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There is a note on Jeralt’s desk when he gets into his office, but when he picks it up the writing is so messy and scratchy that it is nearly illegible. Trying to figure it out hurts his head, so he heads next door, where Manuela is staring very intently at a small bottle.
“Are you busy, Manuela?”
She looks up and smiles. “Not for you, Jeralt.”
He gestures at the bottle of medicine. “That not important?”
She looks at the bottle in her hand and then laughs. “Oh, no. But if I look busy, the kids tend to leave me alone.”
He files that away and holds up the note. “Someone left me a note, but it’s impossible to read. Do you know anything about this?”
“Why that’s my note! What do you mean, you can’t read it?”
He examines the note again; he should have known this chicken scratch was a doctor’s writing. “Why don’t you just tell me what it says.”
“This Saturday, at eight, we’re meeting at the usual place.”
Every day. Every day he regretted coming back to this infernal school.
“What are you talking about?”
Manuela looks at him. “Are you telling me no one told you? Every so often, the teachers get together at the usual place and… vent.”
“Vent,” Jeralt says flatly. Manuela winks at him.
“Oh, you know. Air out our grievances. Complain about things. Compare how many pages over the limit Annette has gone on her essays while we eat food designed to send us to an early grave. Think of it as… team bonding.”
“And where is this usual place?”
“There’s a Taco Bell a couple towns over.”
Jeralt doesn't know what that means, and he's too afraid to ask.
Jeralt sighs. “This doesn’t seem like the type of thing Rhea would approve of.”
“Oh, no. Lady Rhea is banned from that Taco Bell. Legally she can’t be within a hundred feet of it. Why do you think we always meet there?”
Despite himself, he finds himself getting interested. “What did she do?”
Manuela shakes her head. “Only Seteth knows, and he won’t tell. His resolve is firm. I’ve tried to seduce it out of him a handful of times, but he never wavers.”
“Have you ever considered changing your methods?” Jeralt says, and Manuela gives him a vicious glare before she laughs, waving her hand about.
“I do hope you’ll come, Jeralt. It really helps with the stress, I promise.”
Jeralt only grunts. “I’ll think about it.”
He is passing through the stables on Saturday when he sees Catherine dressing her horse. “Ah, Jeralt,” she calls out. “You on your way? We can ride together. I’ll show you the way.”
Jeralt thinks about it. “There any alcohol at this ‘Taco Bell’?”
“Not since the Lady Rhea incident, I’m afraid. But come on, I promise it’s worth it.”
“Oh, alright,” he says; Catherine waits for him to get his horse, and then they ride off together, to whatever the hell a Taco Bell is.
Jeralt orders something called a ‘Chili Cheese Burrito.’ Catherine orders a ‘Doritos Cheesy Gordito Crunch,’ although when Jeralt asks her what a Doritos is, she admits that she isn’t sure.
The others are already at a table, so Jeralt takes the tray with his and Catherine’s food and heads over to where everyone is seated. Manuela slides over and pats the seat next to her with a wink. Jeralt sighs and sits down; Catherine grabs her food and tears into it, while Jeralt takes a sip of his ‘Sprite.’
“I caught Sylvain with another girl in the infirmary last night,” Manuela says dejectedly. “Pretty young thing. I wanted to warn her.”
“Something tells me they all know what they’re getting into,” Catherine says around a mouthful of food. “His reputation precedes him.”
“I just don’t think it’s fair that he has a different girl on his arm every weekend, but every knight I go out with leaves town almost immediately,” Manuela says. Jeralt opens his mouth and then thinks better of it, taking a bite out of his burrito instead.
Seteth looks disturbed. “Perhaps we should start locking the infirmary at night to try and prevent these premarital dalliances.”
Catherine mutters “Premarital daliances” under her breath, and Shamir elbows her.
“He’d just find another place to do it,” she says in her dry voice. “Besides, what happens if someone gets hurt and needs the infirmary at night?”
“They would simply have to wake Manuela --”
“Ha!” Hanneman exclaims. His soft tacos are spilling out all over his plate. “Good luck waking her from her drunken stupors.”
Manuela aims a kick at Hanneman, but Alois, who is beside him, lets out a cry and she gives him an apologetic smile before turning to glare at Hanneman. “No one asked you, Hanneman. But for what it’s worth I’d rather clean bodily fluids off the sheets than have to wake up at three in the morning because Felix has accidentally stabbed someone again.”
Catherine says, “‘Accidentally.’”
“The monastery is a place of learning and worship,” Seteth says, in a voice gearing up for a full blown lecture. “It is --”
“The kids are going to have sex no matter what you try and do,” Shamir says calmly. “Just be glad they’re not doing it in your office anymore.”
Seteth chokes while the rest of them laugh. “What do you mean, anymore?”
“Jeritza,” Jeralt interrupts, eager to get off this topic. “What in the hell are you drinking?”
Jeritza takes another long sip of his drink. “They call it a baja blast,” he drawls. Jeralt decides not to ask anymore questions.
“Perhaps we should discuss something else,” Hanneman says, in a pained voice. Manuela perks up.
“Actually, Hanneman, you owe me 100 gold. Annette’s essay was seven pages over the limit.” She holds out her hand, looking smug, but Hanneman just laughs.
“Nice try, Manuela,” he says, before reaching into a bag Jeralt hadn’t noticed and pulling out a stack at least twenty pages thick. “Lysithea not only surpassed the page limit by ten pages, she also stumbled upon a completely different way to summon dark magic that will hopefully not have as brutal a physical effect on the caster.” He drops the essay in the middle of the table. “I am quite eager to experiment with it.”
Manuela sighs, flipping through the essay. “Lysithea von Ordelia strikes again,” she says morosely. “I’ll have to start putting more pressure on Annette.”
“Surely you should be focused more on teaching, and less on your wager with Hanneman?” Seteth says peevishly. Manuela laughs.
“Annette learns by being challenged, Seteth. You’d think you’d know that with all the times you sit in on my class.”
Seteth does not look at all apologetic. “If you would stop showing up to class hungover, perhaps I wouldn’t have to sit in as often.”
“Let’s not forget, Manuela,” Hanneman says sternly. “Trying to influence their work is against the terms of our bet.”
“Oh, I know, Hanneman, there’s no need to be such a wet blanket,” she says lightly. She takes a bite of her food and then turns to Jeralt. “Tell me, Jeralt, how is your child enjoying teaching here?”
Seteth leans forward a bit. “I am eager to know, as well,” he says, eyes narrowed in poorly disguised suspicion. Jeralt takes another bite of his burrito.
“Byleth isn’t exactly forthcoming with their emotions, as you know,” he says, thinking about all the times they had gotten hurt as a child, the way they would tug on Jeralt’s sleeve and show off their injury without any hint of pain or tears on their face, just waiting to be taken care of. “But I think teaching is good for them.” He’s not exactly thrilled about this, of course, something he and Seteth have in common. He doesn’t really mind that Seteth doesn’t trust him or his child -- Jeralt doesn’t much trust Seteth, and he definitely doesn’t trust Rhea.
“Well the kids love them,” Manuela says. “I’ve already lost two students to their class, although if I’m being honest, I think Sylvain was less interested in their teaching style and more interested in -- well. Regardless, I am glad they’re settling in.”
“An excellent fisher,” Alois says suddenly. “Which reminds me! What do you call a --”
“They are remarkably skilled with the sword,” Jeritza says, completely cutting off whatever horrible joke Alois was about to tell.
Alois claps Jeralt on the arm. “They got it all from Captain Jeralt, here!” He says loudly, voice booming through the restaurant. Jeralt has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Alois' enthusiasm was ultimately harmless, even if it was annoying.
"That's not true," he disagrees. "Byleth will be a better swordsman than I ever was, mark my words."
Silence settles over the group as everyone takes a chance to eat their food. Jeralt finishes off his burrito and wonders if he should get another one.
“So what is this place? I don’t remember it being around the last time I was at the monastery.”
“Ah,” Hanneman says, in a tone of voice that says that Jeralt is going to regret asking. “Have you ever heard of the Bell family?” He doesn’t give Jeralt a chance to answer. “They were a very minor noble house in the Empire. Ten or so years ago the heir to the entire house decided to renounce his title and open up this restaurant. It was quite the scandal when it happened, but he has done exceedingly well.”
“Shamir and I found it while out on a mission, shortly after it opened,” Catherine says. “Been coming here since.”
Jeralt nods. “And Lady Rhea?”
Almost as one, every head swivels around to look at Seteth, who wipes his mouth delicately with a napkin. “Lady Rhea has reached an agreement with Lord Bell that is between them and them alone. It does not concern the rest of you.”
“There’s a picture in the women’s bathroom of her with the word ‘banned’ written across it,” Manuela confides to Jeralt. Seteth glares at her.
“Gossip is not an attractive trait, Manuela,” he says.
“No,” she agrees. “But it is fun to pass the time with, and I think there’s been enough time for us to form opinions on the most pressing question of all.” She takes a sip and then leans her chin on her hand, winking at no one in particular. “We’re lucky to have all three future leaders of the country with us this year. So… which do you think is best suited for their job?”
“I don’t think gossiping about the children --” Seteth starts, but Catherine laughs loudly.
“You’ve got a little something,” she says to Seteth, pointing at the corner of her mouth, and Jeralt holds back a laugh with the rest of them as he watches Seteth wipe at nothing.
“He says this every time,” Shamir says. “But every time he accepts our invitation anyway.”
“I think each of them exhibits exemplary traits that will ensure their success as a leader and will work to make Fodlan even stronger,” Seteth says severely. But then he adds, slightly reluctantly, “Although I must admit the way Edelgard looks at me sometimes makes me nervous.”
Jeritza says, “Dimitri is nearly unstoppable with his lance.”
“More than that,” Hanneman says. “He is incredibly empathetic and seems to truly care about his subjects.”
Manuela moves her straw around her cup. “Dimitri is a wonderful boy,” she agrees. “But history has never been kind to gentle kings. Claude, on the other hand --”
“Too smart for his own good, if you ask me,” Seteth says. “It’s going to get him in trouble one day.”
“You only say that because he got you with that itching powder the other day,” Alois says jovially. Seteth raises his chin defiantly and doesn’t answer this.
“Let’s not discount his archery skills,” Shamir says. “I think he has a sharper eye than even me.”
“I must speak up for the future emperor!” Alois interjects. “Don’t let her size fool you! Miss Hresvelg can wield an axe like no other!”
“There’s no need to shout,” Shamir says dryly. Jeralt snorts, and the attention of the group turns to him.
“What about you, Jeralt?” Hanneman asks. “How do you feel about the future of Fodlan?”
Jeralt takes another pull of his drink. “I think the future is ever changing,” he says slowly. “And it is important that we are always prepared to change along with it.”
Silence settles after he speaks; Seteth is looking at him with something like respect.
And then Catherine says, “Okay, but who do you think would win in a fight?”
Chatter kicks up again as they all argue their stances; Jeralt chuckles as he listens to them.
He does end up ordering another burrito, and he gets something called a Crunchwrap Supreme to take back for Byleth. But before they all head back to Garreg Mach, Shamir surreptitiously hands him a rolled up piece of parchment, and when he opens it, in the secrecy of his office, he can’t help the laugh that bursts deep from within him as he looks at a startlingly detailed painting of Rhea, with the word ‘BANNED’ written in bold red letters across it.