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For the first time in her life, Byleth is dreading class.
Most of the time, she’s indifferent to her classes. She attends them, does her assignments and studies for her exams, and moves on with her life. What is there to dread? But today is different. Today she has to face Claude after ending their fake relationship via text and then deliberately avoiding him. The worst part is that she has no idea what to expect from him. She can envision several different scenarios, each featuring a different reaction and all equally plausible. She doesn’t think he’ll make a big scene, but she’s been wrong before.
“You did what you had to do,” she reminds her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Then she sighs, brushes her teeth and puts on her uniform. There’s no use putting it off any more; better to get the reunion over with than to sit in her room and worry about all the hypotheticals.
She skips breakfast at the dining hall but that means she gets to the classroom way too early. She’s going to have to find a way to kill the next half an hour before class starts, but before she can come up with anything, someone else walks into the room.
“I never thought you’d leave me hanging, Teach,” Claude says as he takes a seat next to her. “Didn’t seem like your style.”
His tone is mild and his eyes are cool and distant. Somehow that’s worse than the anger she’d expected. She looks down at her hands and tries to think of a defense that doesn’t involve her admitting that she developed very real feelings for him over the course of their very fake relationship.
“I’m no good at pretending,” she says at last.
He hums softly in response, but she can’t tell what he’s thinking. A silence stretches out between them for so long that she thinks maybe the conversation is over already, but he breaks it at last.
“I still need your help.”
She looks up at him but now he’s the one looking away, staring off toward the podium like someone will appear there and tell them how to handle this.
“For what, Claude? I mean, would it be so bad, dating someone for real?” She tilts her head as she watches him, trying to gauge his reaction to her words. “Wouldn’t it be...less complicated?”
His laugh is uncharacteristically bitter and he slices a glance at her, his green eyes cutting. “Not at all. None of those people out there want me for me .”
“Why wouldn’t they?”
“Because they don’t know me, By. And the minute the word prince got attached to my name, it wiped out any chance of them wanting to get to know me. Now they see the position, they imagine the jewels and the parties and the palaces. They think a relationship with me would be romantic and exotic, without considering who I am at all.” He pins her with a stare. “It’s not real.”
“Well, neither were we,” she points out, feeling a pang in her chest. His lips twist into a sad little half-smile.
“At least it wasn’t a trick. We agreed that it wouldn’t be real together.” He sighs and taps the desktop with impatient fingers for a moment. “Look, just give me two more weeks, alright? That big traditional ball is at the end of the month. Get me through that, and I’ll owe you. Whatever you want, you got it.”
“You’re aware you just made me an open ended promise, right?” she asks. Those from Claude were rare and had to be earned. The fact that he trusts her with one makes her feel a little better.
“Don’t worry, I’m aware.” His smile is slightly more genuine and he holds out his hand to shake on their new deal. “Two more weeks?”
She eyes his extended hand for a moment. It’s going to be sweet torture but...he needs her. She’s never been able to say no to him before and she guessed today wouldn’t be any different.
“Two more weeks,” she agrees, trying not to sound defeated. She shakes his hand and he clamps his fingers around hers and brings it up for a kiss.
“You’re amazing, Teach. I don’t deserve you.” He gives her a squeeze and releases her.
Their professor arrives before she can think of a suitable reply.
-=-=-
Annette leans over the table at lunch and says, “I’m glad you and Prince Khalid patched things up. You’re a really cute couple.”
“Oh.” Byleth isn’t surprised that Annette noticed their awkward moment at the football pitch, but she’s a little surprised that Annette genuinely seems to care. A second later she realizes that it’s kind of nice that someone cares, and she manages a small smile. “Thank you, I’m glad too. Any luck with Felix?”
Annette shakes her head. “I...haven’t worked up the nerve. But I will! I just need to do it before the ball.”
Felix groans as he joins them at the table. “Not you too. Everyone’s talking about that damn ball. What do you need to work up the nerve for?” he asks Annette. Immediately she flushes a deep red and chirps “Nothing!"
“I suppose this year I have to find a dress,” Byleth says to distract him. “I didn’t bother last year.”
Felix spears a bit of broccoli as though it has personally offended him. “I don’t see the appeal. It seems so...outdated.”
“Tradition is important. And everyone likes dancing,” Annette tells him, and just like that the pair of them are bickering about the merits of what Felix calls ‘mandatory fun.’ Byleth tunes them out until Claude joins them, dropping a kiss to the top of her head as he takes a seat.
There are two weeks left until the ball. Two weeks until this whole charade is over. She can’t tell if she’s dreading it or looking forward to it. Claude turns the conversation to football instead, no doubt sensing that Felix would appreciate the rescue, she watches him. Lets herself imagine what it would be like to be preparing for an actual date with him. SHe’s never been one to get excited over clothes and shoes, but she’d put in extra effort for the special occasion. Would she be nervous? She can’t imagine getting nervous about a school function, but then he shoots her a playful look with those devastatingly green eyes and she’s not so sure she wouldn’t be feeling butterflies.
Well, fake or real, she’s in over her head. She’s going to need help if she wants to dress up for the ball, and there’s one person especially that comes to mind. She ignores the argument next to her about tactics on a football pitch and leans over to Annette.
“Does Mercedes still do makeup?” she asks, and the redhead lights up.
“She sure does! Good idea, we’re going to have to get started right away if we want to have everything ready in time.”
Byleth resists the urge to jab Claude in the side. Two weeks of prep work for one evening? What has he gotten her into?
-=-=-
One week later, and she’s glad they got an early start because it took several trips into town before she found a dress. Somehow the group had grown to include Hilda, Marianne and Dorothea, which meant that each trip ate up the entire evening, and even with all of them relatively satisfied with their attire, there’s still makeup and hair to be sorted out over the next week.
Just the thought makes her tired, but she’s grateful for the help. She doesn’t want to make Claude look bad, and she knows that they’ll be the center of at least a little attention. She isn’t much good at shopping or makeup but Hilda and Mercedes are great at it, and she has to admit that it’s kind of...fun. Even if she is exhausted.
She decides to climb into bed early that night, and she’s just snuggling underneath her sheets with a novel when a noise by the window catches her attention. She looks up just in time to watch Claude tumble through it and onto the floor of her room in an awkward heap.
“What are you doing?” she asks, staring at him with slightly widened eyes as he straightens himself out and brushes off his clothes. He meets her gaze and grins at her.
“Something romantic,” he replies. “If you’d been on the second floor, I would have thrown rocks at your window. Since you weren’t, I had to come up with a better idea.”
“And that idea was to break and enter?”
He laughs and crosses over to her bed to sit beside her. “I’ll have you know that this is a scene worthy of a romcom.”
“If Seteth finds you in here, we’ll both get expelled.”
“That’s my girl--always so practical.”
She wishes he wouldn’t call her his girl . It does funny things to her pulse. It only gets worse when he takes his shoes off, kicks his legs up onto the bed and stretches out beside her. She should kick him out, but the words don’t come. Instead she watches him with wary eyes, wondering what he’s up to. There’s no one here to perform for, after all.
“Come here,” he says to her, holding out an arm. Byleth tilts her head, wondering what he means, and then she realizes: he means for her to curl up against him.
“Claude…I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she replies. He pats his chest invitingly.
“Just give it a chance, will you Teach? You might enjoy it. I’m told I’m quite warm.” He gives her an impish grin. “And I’ll be on my best behavior, I promise.”
Why? What’s the point of this? asks some tormented inner voice, but she doesn’t speak. Instead, she finds herself scooting toward him, hesitant but too tempted to do anything else. He tosses the comforter over his body but doesn’t get under the sheets, and when she’s close enough he curls an arm around her and hauls her the rest of the way into his chest.
“Comfy, right?” he says, sounding supremely content. She nods and closes her eyes, trying to memorize this sensation as she isn’t likely to experience it again. Her fingers curl into his shirt before she can stop herself, and she shoves her silent doubts away.
“Lorenz is going to give me a hell of a lecture in the morning,” Claude comments after a few long, quiet moments. “He saw me jimmying the window open.”
“Better get some sleep then,” Byleth replies, though all she can think is that of course someone saw him. He’d meant for them to. This was still part of the show after all.
His arm tightens around her and his lips brush over her forehead. “Just what I was thinking. Goodnight, setareh . Sleep well.”
They settle deeper into the bed, adjusting until both are comfortable, but Byleth doesn’t drift off right away. Instead, she listens to the steady beating of his heart and savors the way his fingers dance up and down her arm, light and soothing.
I love you, she thinks, and the thought echoes over and over until she falls asleep.
-=-=-
The week before the ball is nearly unbearable. Sylvain catches Claude sneaking out of her room the morning after his little break in (just as Claude had intended, Byleth is sure), and news of that flies quickly through the Academy. Then he ensures that every day thereafter, the pair of them are inseparable. He seems to constantly be touching her: he tosses an arm over her shoulder or loops it around her waist. His fingers intertwine with hers, or he gives her little shoulder rubs while they chat with their classmates. For Byleth, unused to physical affection as she is, it’s almost a sensory overload. Between spending time with him and Mercedes’ help with preparations for the ball, her energy is beginning to flag.
But the evening of the dance arrives at last. Byleth examines Mercedes’ work in the mirror and admits to herself that she could never have achieved such lovely results without the help. The dress is nice too, feminine without making her feel too vulnerable. She wonders what Claude will think, if he’ll like it.
But when he does see it, he doesn’t say anything. He stares at her with wide eyes and she wonders if he’s feeling alright: he looks a little flushed. Then, still silent, he offers his arm and escorts her toward the reception hall. As for him...well, he’s stunning in a simple suit, with artfully tousled hair and eyes that are almost glowing with anticipation for the evening.
As they enter the large room, which has been cleared out of furniture in order to make room for dancing, Byleth catches sight of Annette and Felix. She wouldn’t believe it if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, but Felix is actually blushing . He’s trying his best to look as though he isn’t enjoying the evening at all, but Byleth can see the way he cradles Annette to him with gentle hands, and she sees the way Annette can’t stop smiling in response. It makes her feel something new: envy. But she’s happy for the couple too, and she waves back when Annette catches sight of her.
Hilda and Marianne sweep by, already dancing. Lindhart is steadfastly refusing all of Caspar’s attempts to lure him onto the dancefloor, but Ingrid is dragging Sylvain there by the scruff of his neck. Mercedes accepts a dance from Ferdinand with gentle amusement, as he makes a great show of bowing over her hand like a courtier of old.
“Claude,” Byleth says, tugging slightly on his arm so he’ll lean down. “I can’t dance.”
He grins at her. “There’s something my dear Teach isn’t an expert at? How can that be?” When she glares at him, he laughs and adds, “Don’t worry about it. All you have to do is follow my lead.”
“I’d really prefer it if you danced with someone else--” she starts, but it’s too late. He’s pulling her onto the dance floor without heeding her protests at all.
The world falls away as soon as his arms are around her. She looks up at him and finds herself trapped in his gaze. As they begin to move, her mostly on instinct, he smiles at her gently.
“I should have said earlier, but I was speechless. You look very beautiful tonight. And...I really can’t thank you enough, my friend,” he says softly. “You saved me from packs of ravenous gold diggers. I know it can’t have been easy, pretending to be infatuated with me.”
“It…” Byleth shakes her head, at a loss for words. “There’s no need to thank me.”
He pulls her closer and a shiver runs through her. There’s a pause as she drinks in his warmth, her own arms tightening around him in a moment of weakness, and then his lips brush over her ear as he whispers in it.
“You’re trembling, setareh. ” And it’s true, she is. Then he adds, “I have a confession.”
“What’s that?” she manages, her own whisper a little breathy.
“This scheme of mine? Us, pretending to be together? I may have...stopped pretending.” He pulls back just a little to look into her eyes.
She blinks at him, not sure she’s hearing right, and he grins a little at her confusion.
“Byleth...I’ve been fascinated by you for a long time. And then I found out that my cover was about to be blown, and I thought you would be the perfect person to help me keep the wolves at bay. And all of a sudden, somewhere in there, I wasn’t just fascinated by you anymore. I...I…”
For once, he’s the one that looks away, unable to hold her gaze. “I want this to be real. I want us to be real. I don’t think I could ever let you go, not now that I know how good we are together. Do you think you could want that too?”
They’re so close now that only a few centimetres separate their lips. She imagines herself closing the gap and it sends her heart racing.
“Before I answer, I have a question of my own,” she says.
“Sure, whatever you want to know,” he replies immediately.
“What does setareh mean?” she asks.
He smiles at her, his eyes warm with affection. “It means ‘star,’” he tells her, and he’s still smiling when she buries her hands in his hair and kisses him right in the middle of the dance floor.
Time spins out and contracts as they kiss and when she finally pulls back for a breath of air, he can’t stop himself from capturing her lips in two more short, but heated, kisses.
“Claude. Khalid. I love you,” she says, staring up into his eyes. His hand comes up to cradle her face and his eyes go soft.
“I love you too,” he replies. Then he smiles a little impishly at her. “So I guess I better take you out on a real date.”
Her own smile is so wide that it’s beginning to hurt her cheeks. “I believe I was promised baby wyverns,” she says, and then pulls him down for another kiss.