Chapter Text
Byleth stared out at the glittering capital city of Almyra, looking much too stern for a child of two years old. There was a flurry of activity when normally the city’s inhabitants would just be waking. And the bells, they were ringing nonstop, from the royal tower in the palace to the people marching in the street. Bells of music and peels of laughter filled the air.
It all made no sense. She had never seen people act like this even on festival days.
The small girl jumped down from the window and calmly walked toward her caretaker. She knew the servants found her strange, even at two that was something she understood. There was something about the way she carried herself, something that made her seem mature beyond her years, that unnerved other people. It was why Byleth preferred only to interact with Nader and Naima.
“Naima,” Byleth spoke in her high pitched voice, her fingers moving to form the signs Naima needed to communicate. “What is going on?”
The prince was born this morning, Naima signed back to her. She was the only person who seemed to understand and accept Byleth’s strangeness. Byleth was well aware that Naima was not her mother, but she was the closest thing the little girl had to one. The bells are a celebration of his birth.
Byleth thought that over for a moment, her face blank as she processed what Naima had told her. “That does not make sense,” Byleth finally responded. “Babies are born every day, and no one ever makes this much fuss.”
Naima smiled at her, amused by her comment. But not royal babies, Byleth. The prince is important. It means the king has an heir.
“But why is an heir important?”
Because it means a chance at stability. Seeing Byleth’s confusion at the new word, Naima broke off to explain, When the current king either dies or gives up his throne, the prince will have the opportunity to prove himself worthy to take his place. If he is successful, the throne will go to him. If he is not, there will be fighting between the nobles as they each try to take the throne for themselves.
“All the nobles do is fight between themselves,” Byleth pointed out.
True. Naima stood, setting aside the embroidery she was focused on before Byleth had distracted her. Come, I think Nader will be fine with us taking a break on such a momentous day. Let us go see what celebrations are going on in the city.
Byleth slid her small hand into Naima’s larger one, allowing her caretaker to lead her from the estate and into the bustling crowds.
Byleth supposed the new prince was good for something after all. At least she would not be forced to read any political theories today.
/
The king returned to the capitol a week later to the joyful cheers of his populace. Some were calling it a prosperous sign that the prince was born on the morning of the king’s latest victory. But others, many of them discontented nobles who hated that King Mahtab had essentially married an enemy, were already fast at work spreading rumors of illegitimacy and weakness.
Not that Byleth was aware of any of that. Such things were not the concern of a child of only two years old.
No, what concerned her about the king’s return was the subsequent return of her other caretaker. Nader rushed into Naima’s rooms and swept up the young girl just as he did every time he returned home.
“Look at how big you’ve gotten!” Nader laughed, sitting Byleth on one of his shoulders.
“I have not gotten bigger. It’s only been a month,” Byleth pointed out.
Nader paused and shook his head. “But I see you’re just as serious. Have you kept up with your training?”
“Yes.” For an instant there seemed to be a hint of joy in Byleth’s usually monotone voice.
She gave Kasra’s boy a black eye, Naima signed.
Nader’s face lit up all over again as he watched his sister’s fingers form words, bursting out in another belly laugh as she finished. “Did you now? He’s what, six years old and twice your size? How’d you manage that?”
“I hit him,” Byleth answered succinctly.
Nader shook his head again. “That is usually how one wins a fight.”
Byleth knew she confused the big man, but besides Naima, he was the only one who made an effort to understand her. And he was the one teaching her to fight, so Byleth rather enjoyed when the loud man was around.
Are we expected at the palace? Naima asked, changing the subject.
“Tomorrow, not tonight. The king wants tonight to spend with his queen and newborn son. There will be a feast tomorrow we’ll be expected to make an appearance at.”
And Byleth?
Nader thought for a moment, tilting his head to look at the child on his shoulder. “I don’t see why she can’t come. I think it’ll do her good to meet the new prince.”
Byleth’s eyes narrowed, the closest she ever came to expressing her displeasure. They narrowed further when she caught Naima’s next comment.
Good, that gives me time to get her something to wear.
Byleth clung tightly to Nader even as he pulled her off his shoulder. “Come now, Byleth, it won’t be so bad.”
Byleth gave him a deadpanned look, silently telling him she did not believe a word of that.
/
Byleth was not impressed with the new prince. He was a baby, just like every other baby. She did not see what was so special about the wrinkled little thing. The queen beamed down at her child, her attention only leaving him whenever her husband came back to her side.
Queen Odette had greeted her warmly enough when Nader led her forward, and even seemed amused as Byleth studied the baby. “Is the prince not to your liking, Byleth?” the queen asked in a teasing tone.
Byleth looked up to her, and then back down to the baby. “He’s so squishy,” was the answer she decided on.
King Mahtab and Nader both threw their heads back and laughed. Other courtiers joined in, but these were not false laughter. The people surrounding them were the king’s closest friends and advisors, those Mahtab trusted above all others. They were those who laughed with the king, and not to win his favor.
Of course, Byleth only barely grasped that concept. She realized that the royal couple seemed more relaxed than any other time she had seen them, and Byleth found the entire experience strange. Besides, she was distracted when the baby opened his eyes. They were a brilliant shade of green, one Byleth had never seen before.
She leaned over the baby, trying to get a better look. The prince blinked up at her for a moment before cooing happily, and he began to squirm in his mother’s arms.
Odette smiled down at her son, and traced a finger over the bridge of his nose. “It seems like Claude likes you.”
“You’re really calling him Claude?” she heard Nader whisper to the king.
“I can’t convince her otherwise,” Mahtab answered, fondness in his voice as if he was sharing a joke with his friend.
After that, the queen allowed Byleth to sit next to her, but was pretty much forgotten about by the adults and older children. The adults talked over her, trading jokes and jabs about topics Byleth had no idea how to place. She absentmindedly swung her legs back and forth, ignoring the occasional whisper about what a strange child she was.
After a few hours, Odette handed over the prince to one of her handmaidens. There was a flash of hatred in the woman’s eyes that seemed to go unnoticed by the adults in the room. But Byleth knew that look. It was the one the noble children gave her because she was an orphan from Fódlan.
Byleth slid off the chair and followed the woman. No one noticed her, not even the woman as she placed Claude in his crib. She unfolded a fresh blanket, and looked over her shoulder. But Byleth, hiding behind the crib, was the only one paying her any mind. The handmaid pulled a vial from her skirts, her actions hidden from the royal couple by her own body. Byleth watched as she popped off the cork on the vial and spread the powdered contents on the blanket.
The woman picked up the blanket by sliding her hands under it, careful not to touch the top. Warning bells went off in Byleth’s head as the woman turned to the prince. That look in her eyes, it wasn’t one someone who was supposed to care for another should have. She looked so angry.
Byleth did not really think about what she was doing. Before the woman could drop the blanket onto the newborn baby, Byleth pulled her leg back and kicked the woman’s shin as hard as she could.
The woman cursed loudly, the rest of the room fell silent, and dropped the blanket. She cursed again and clasped her hands together, eyes blazing as she turned to Byleth.
“Byleth,” Nader’s voice cut through the silence, “why would you do that?”
She felt his presence behind her, acting as a bulwark between her and the hostility many of the courtiers were directing her way. “She put something on the blanket,” Byleth said. It was as if she sucked all the air out of the room. Every adult went rigidly still.
“It was simply powder to help his skin from drying out,” the woman protested. She moved her hands behind her back, obviously wringing them together. Her face was twisting as she tried to hide her pain, but she was failing miserably.
Nader stepped around Byleth and grabbed the woman, ignoring her cry of pain as he dragged her hand forward. Already the flesh was turning red and starting to crack. It looked incredibly painful.
Mahtab stepped around his wife, carefully picking up the blanket with gloved hands. His face was blank as he turned toward her, but he radiated hatred hot enough that Byleth shrank behind Nader to hide herself.
“Why?” was the one word question Mahtab asked, the weight of the woman’s life hanging by that word.
The woman’s face twisted as she gave in to her hatred and pain, and she spat at the king’s feet. “You should be ashamed,” she hissed. “You dare taint the throne with a Fódlan whore, and now you give us a prince tainted by her weakness for an heir! We will never accept such a creature as that-” she jerked her head toward the crib where the baby was still sleeping, “-on the throne.”
Mahtab took a deep breath, studying the blanket he held. The entire room held its breath when he finally opened his mouth. “My son will be the greatest king to ever sit upon Almyra’s throne. But of course, you won’t be around to see that.” He moved forward, the woman’s eyes widening in fear as he raised the blanket, and wrapped the poisoned fabric around her face.
Byleth clung to Nader’s leg as the woman screamed. It did not last long. The contact poison tore through her skin, causing her to convulse in the king’s grasp. The sounds she made as her throat and face were destroyed were terrifying. Mahtab did not flinch. He held her there until the woman stopped moving, until those distorted screams died away. Only then did he let the body fall to the floor.
His eyes were softer when he turned to Byleth. Mahtab leaned down, a tight smile on his lips as he addressed her. “You saved my son, Byleth. I owe you a debt, little one. Thank you.”
Byleth shook her head, leaning into Nader’s comforting touch as she continued to try and hide herself behind him. She did not like being the center of attention. Mahtab nodded once more before he straightened, barking orders at guards and servants. Byleth was quickly forgotten by everyone besides her caretakers.
Nader picked her up, holding her close as the room erupted into a flurry of activity. “You did good, Byleth,” he whispered to her. “I’m proud of you.”
Naima was quick to reach her brother’s side, taking the small girl from him. “I’ll need to help Mahtab with his investigation. Can you take Byleth home?”
Naima nodded, holding onto Byleth tighter than she usually did. Naima was scared, and Byleth was not sure why. Surely the danger was passed now that the woman was dead.
Byleth gave one last look over Naima’s shoulder to the tiny prince, meeting his bright green eyes before he began to bawl.
He was certainly noisy for such a small thing. How did those tiny lungs make cries that loud?
/
“Naima?” Byleth said and signed as her caretaker began to tuck her in for the night.
Yes, Byleth? Naima signed back when Byleth offered no other words.
“How did the king know my name?” Byleth asked. It had bothered her ever since Mahtab addressed her. “He was not beside the queen when I introduced myself to her.”
Naima hesitated, something flashing across her face that Byleth was too young to understand. Nader is the king’s best friend, Naima signed, her fingers fumbling over the words as she attempted to sign too fast. As his ward, it is only natural that you would come up in conversation from time to time. Now, it is time for bed.
Byleth let Naima tuck the blankets in around her, and closed her eyes. Seemingly satisfied, Naima blew out the candles, her skirts swishing around her as she walked out of the room. Byleth waited until the sound of Naima’s footsteps faded away before throwing the covers off and slipping out of bed. She pulled a chair to her window, climbing on it to stare out at the palace.
It was a logical explanation, but for the first time in her short life, Byleth felt like she had been lied to. It did not sit easy with her. There was something about the king that made Byleth feel connected to him. When he had talked to her it was too familiar. It was almost the same way Nader talked to her.
Byleth did not like it, but she had no idea what to do about it. So instead she settled for staring up at the stars, watching the constellations wheel overhead until she drifted off to sleep. She was vaguely aware of Nader picking her up and tucking her back into bed, whispering goodnight before she drifted out of consciousness.