Chapter Text
It was a warm day out. The kind of day better spent outside, basking in breathtaking sunlight. Or, alternately, enjoying a rare moment of quiet in what was an otherwise noisy, bustling campus. What Dorothea had found out early in her nearly two months since school began was that privacy was a luxury . If there were a chance for her to snatch up that rare moment of peace, it would be when everyone crowded around outside—a moment that wouldn’t necessitate her sweet, smooth facade, or her coy and playful smile.
Dorothea glanced about the library in search of a place to sit. At first, it seemed like it was empty. The light from the hall window behind her scoured her shadow across the wooden floor. It took her eyes a moment to adjust, to drink in the soft creaks from the steps she’d take, the books, the massive globe at the center. Then a familiar sight of a bright yellow regalia alongside a glint of gold caught her eye: a boy seated alone at one of the tables, nearly lost beneath the several books stacked before him. It was none other than Claude von Riegan, his family’s sole heir and first in line to be the Leicester Alliance’s next Duke Riegan.
Not to mention her new house leader.
There wasn’t much else she knew about him, apart from the fact he frequently disappeared after class to go about his own business. For someone who had a tendency for disrupting class with his extensive lines of questioning and wisecracks, he certainly kept to himself often Perhaps this would finally be her chance to get to know him, lips curling as she approached his table.
“My, my, I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Startled, he turned to face her, pulling his nose from where it had been buried in his book. He blinked his eyes like he hadn’t seen anything aside from words printed on paper in hours. Though, what little surprise he showed quickly withdrew, replaced by a pleased look.
“What can I say?” he began, grinning as he lowered his book to the table, cheek propped on his free hand, “I’m full of surprises.” He took what she had to assume was a moment to collect himself, taking her in, observing her, before he continued, “What brings you to this side of the monastery, Dorothea?”
“Oh, nothing important, really,” Dorothea hummed as she plucked Claude’s book from in front of him. “Honestly, I was just taking a short tour through the areas I’ve been meaning spend more time in. There’s so much of this school that I’ve yet to discover—like your interest in Herbs of Dagda: The Composition of Medical and Magical Concoctions .”
“You never know. Teach might just drop a pop quiz that’ll catch us all by surprise.” Claude shrugged. He reclined in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, a smirk on his lips.
Of course, it was an obvious ruse to Dorothea. She was a master of deflection, after all. She dropped the book back onto the table as she leaned towards him, the teasing look on her face mimicking his own. “Do you really expect me to believe that? You could have just said you found it interesting.”
Claude couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, but the chances of you following up with a ‘ why would you be interested in that ’ were way too high for my tastes.”
Dorothea smothered a laugh, his impression of her voice absolutely comedic with how awful it was. “Alright then,” she rested a hand on the table to support her. She tapped her nails on the wood, grin growing wider as she decided to play along. “Why would you be interested in that?” she mimicked.
“Honestly, I’m far more interested in you, Dorothea,” Claude answered instead, voice lilting with a warmth she hadn’t expected.
Her brows rose in surprise, why, Goodness, she was taken aback! That was a bit more forward than she had expected from him. But nonetheless, she was experienced in dealing with far more arrogant attempts at flirting with her.
“Y’know it’s weird that, despite being with the Golden Deer for almost a week now, we haven’t had an opportunity to get to know each other,” Claude finished with a wave of his hand.
It took Dorothea a little longer than she would’ve liked to gather her thoughts but, when she did, a small smile managed to tug at her lips. “That was my exact same thought!” Her next exhale was bemused, caught off guard. She hadn’t expected the conversation to flow quite like this. She’d thought he’d be more evasive, roundabout in his answers. She much preferred this particular directness. “But I just never seem to be able to catch you outside of the classroom.”
Sitting herself on the table, Dorothea made herself comfortable. Her skirt slid up her thigh as she crossed her legs and, for a brief second, she caught Claude’s eyes darting down before he lifted his eyes back to her face just as quickly. Feigning ignorance, she tilted her head towards him and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Hardly proper etiquette for a library on her part, but who was there to reprimand her? It was just the two of them in the room, after all. She met his gaze, smiling down at him, warm and open.
“What would you like to know about me?”
Claude suddenly became very thoughtful, not answering immediately. “Let’s start with what I already know about you,” he mused.
“Well, you already know that I was a diva for the Mittlefrank Opera Company. That’s how I introduced myself to the class.”
Claude chewed on the inside of his cheek, studying her face. “Huh, come to think of it… Why would an admired, successful diva such as yourself choose to enroll at the Officers Academy? Don’t you think that’s a bit of a jump?”
Dorothea exhaled a small laugh, her brows drawing up as she closed her eyes in thought. Admittedly, it was a question she found herself asking quite frequently as well. What was she doing at the monastery? She wasn’t an heiress to any rich, noble lands. She had no intentions of becoming a knight. Compared to everyone else, she had little to no knowledge of Fódlan’s politics or history, and even less when it came to battle skill.
“Stability,” she answered him curtly, and although she gave him her utmost honesty, she felt that crippling pang of humiliation clutch at her chest. It felt belittling to confess the reason for why she actually enrolled at the monastery. It was an acknowledgement that she came from nothing, and that this was what she believed to be her best and only option to secure a good future for her.
“When I was a songstress, there was someone I very much looked up to. I still do, today,” she started, her expression softening as she returned her gaze to him. Claude’s eyebrows lifted in response. “You’re familiar with Professor Manuela. When she left the opera to teach at the Academy, it got me thinking about my own life and what I wanted my future to look like. I asked myself: when my fame and beauty eventually fade away—what then? I was orphaned as a child with no family to turn to, no money to maintain a comfortable life for myself when I grow old.
“Which is why I studied hard, passed the entrance exam to enroll here so I could find a suitable partner to live the rest of my days with.” While it was mortifying to admit her motives, she knew that the only way to keep her pride was to take control of her own story. As long as she could pretend like it didn’t matter to her, no one else could use her shame against her. Her lips pressed together tight, and Dorothea feigned a smile she hoped Claude wouldn’t catch as an act.
But even if he did, he showed no signs of acknowledging it. Instead, he exhaled deeply.
“Gotta admit, that’s pretty impressive.” With the hand on his cheek, he fiddled with his earring. She did take some pride upon hearing that. Passing the Academy’s entrance exam was no walk in the park, especially for commoners. She had to juggle that alongside her work as a songstress, and she would be lying if she said it came easy.
“But if money was an issue, what’d ya do to get in?” He raised an eyebrow. The corner of his mouth quirked playfully. He leaned, propping his chin on his hand, peering into her eyes to gauge the truth.
“Did you schmooze up to some filthy rich noble and have him pay for your entire stay?”
Dorothea’s blood ran frigid cold, and Claude’s teasing grin fell as quickly as her jaw dropped. Then in one quick beat, her brows snapped together, anger flaring in her hard stare. She watched the color drain from Claude’s cheeks, but it was too late for regret in Dorothea’s eyes. She hoped she startled him when she stood so quickly to her feet, relishing the look of fear that crossed his face as she pointed an accusing finger towards him.
“You’re a real big jerk, Claude,” Dorothea snapped, words laced with spite. She couldn’t fathom the nerve of—! She spun by the heel, leaving him there stunned with embarrassment. “Don’t even bother speaking to me again!” she called behind her as she stormed out of the library.
She didn’t get to see Claude run a hand through his hair as he sunk into his seat. “Fuck,” he groaned, “definitely said something wrong.”