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Lysithea gathered ingredients in the dining hall kitchen, pickily browsing the cabinet for her favorites. She carefully organized a spot to begin her greatest creation. She checked off a mental list of everything she had: bowl, whisk, flour, sugar, cream, and various other ingredients used to make sweet concoctions. She rolled up her dress sleeves, tied an apron around her back, began pouring the heavy bag of flour into the bowl.
One could argue she had more important responsibilities than baking a cake. Afterall, with the war over and Nemesis defeated the time to rebuild Fodlan us upon them. She was scheduled to leave the monastery in a couple days to return to Ordelia territory and start the process of her family’s dissolution. She would help her parents bring stability to their region before they renounced their nobility. Then she would travel to Derdriu to rule as queen at Byleth’s side.
But that was still a couple days off. She waited this long because today happened to be a very important day. The nineteenth of the Horsebow Moon. A very important day to her now that she had a future with the man she loved.
She could barely lift the substantial bag over the rim of the bowl, but managed to pour enough flour for the recipe. She let the bag drop to the floor, white powder puffing into the air, throwing her lungs into a coughing fit. She dusted her apron and added cream, sugar, and an egg. She excitedly whisked them together, careful not to spill any. She didn’t understand her nervousness today. She’d baked plenty of cakes before, with much more efficiency to boot. Maybe her passion was a result of who would be receiving the cake? Normally she baked for herself, but today she was baking for…
“What are you up to?” a calm voice spoke behind her.
She yelped and spun around, nearly dropping he bowl and its contents. She set it down and caught her breath. Byleth stood there in his own muted way, with a small but welcoming smile on his face.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that”, she tried to chastise. She stood up straight hoping to regain some her pride and turned checked the bowl.
“Sorry”.
With her back towards him, she smiled. He was so awkward, more awkward than her. But he was so earnest when he tried. She couldn’t even pretend to be mad at him.
“If you must know”, she said resuming her whisking, “I’m baking a cake.”
A few seconds of silence past between them.
“May I assist you?” he asked.
Her whisking stopped as silence returned. Her immediate thought was to reject his offer. This cake was meant be a gift for him. Not only would it spoil the surprise, but to make him work for his own cake? On today of all days? He already had too much on his plate already, with the coming coronation and future ruling. She hoped she could take some burden off him, at least for today, by baking him a sweet delectable he could relax to.
And yet, as she watched him stand there with one of his heartwarming, once uncommon smiles, she didn’t have the heart to turn him away. They were bound together as a couple now. The silver ring on her finger was token proof of their love. And couples did things together, right? Even though it is his day, they share the burdens.
“Alright”, she playfully relented, pointing to a smaller bowl on the counter, “then you can make the icing how I want it.”
Maybe if she pretended the cake was for her, he wouldn’t suspect its true purpose. Trying to trick someone like Byleth was a fool’s errand, but she attempted anyways. He nodded his head and stepped up, grabbing the bowl, and pouring in the sugar and cream. He neglected to don an apron. Already, white powder clung to his ever present robe and gloves. She chuckled to herself.
He glanced at her, and she snapped back to work, embarrassed that he caught her staring. The sound of her whisking was matched with his. They worked silently in tandem. To the outside, it might seem like an awkward interaction, but in reality, both of them felt calm in such an environment. They trusted each other so much that together their nerves relaxed in the quiet work.
She finished her whisking and ignited the stone oven. She poured the batter into a pan and used the peel to place it in the hearth. She set the peel aside and turned to Byleth. He was still whisking, but humorously, had a drop of frosting on his nose. She studied him, bemused. If he noticed, he didn’t show it.
She sauntered next to him. He didn’t acknowledge her. She lifted her finger to his nose and wiped off the icing. She tasted it as he stopped whisking and gazed blankly at her. She contemplated a moment.
“Needs a couple more grams of sugar”, she teased. His expression didn’t change. He stared at her a second longer and nodded, adding the desired sugar and returning to his work without another word. She wondered if she had done something wrong. Did she hurt his pride by pointing out a silly little mishap? Maybe it was the way she did it.
“It was pretty childish…”, she thought.
She returned to the oven and withdrawn herself to watching for the cake to rise. She heard Byleth stop whisking, probably finished with his task. She remained at her position observing the oven as she heard him mess with various bowls and ingredients behind her. Eventually, the cake batter appeared risen and done. She removed it with the peel and set it on the stone slab to cool.
As she turned to Byleth, she saw him oddly in the same spot as before, but now doing absolutely nothing. He stood staring blanking at the bowl of icing, unmoving. He didn’t even acknowledge her. It was unnerving. She tiptoed closer and saw once again a splotch of icing on his nose. He had to have noticed this time, right?
She cautiously approached, planting herself beside him again. His stare didn’t waver from the bowl despite her obvious presence. She wanted him to make the first move, paralyzed by her own irrational fear. After it became apparent he wasn’t going to budge, she hesitantly lifted her arm again. She was much less confident as she scraped his nose with her finger.
She nibbled on the icing, the satisfying sweet blend bringing a small smile to her face. Byleth leapt into action, enveloping her in a large hug and lifting her up, eliciting a small scream from the helpless noble. He buried his head into the crook of her neck, tightening his embrace. Lysithea was equal parts mortified and tranquil. If anyone walked in right now, they would catch an embarrassingly sweet display of their affection. The rumors would spread like wildfire and she would have to leave for home earlier than expected.
But she relaxed into his warm grip. She could feel the tension in his body relax as he let out a deep breath, releasing his pent-up stress. She rested her head against his, and they stayed like that for a few moments. He began to stir, and they separated. He gently set her down and they gazed at each other, smiles on both of their faces.
His hand unexpectantly launched at her face and pressed a dab of icing onto her nose. She recoiled, but he quickly leaned in and kissed her nose, taking the icing with him. She back away flustered as he watched with a seemingly smug grin.
“I-I t-think we should put on the icing”, she stuttered through blushed cheeks. He nodded and placed the bowl next to the cooled cake. He grabbed the spatula, but in a desperate attempt to regain the advantage, she placed her hand over his on the spatula. He did not respond, only smiling to the side and guiding their hands to the bowl of icing. She had failed, and now her entire face was red.
They applied the icing, together, smoothing the sides and making sure it was even. After it was finished, she grabbed some berries and cream and decorated the cake. The edges were painstakingly etched with the berries symmetrically placed throughout the perimeter. The center was rather empty. But it was finished and looking delicious. She removed her apron, noticing Byleth tried and failed to dust himself off, the adorable fool.
She grabbed the cake and made her way out of the mess hall, Byleth in tow with plates and utensils. She set it on the center of a picnic table outside the reception hall. She sat herself down and stared at the cake in awe, eager to dig in. Nothing could ruin this moment.
“I will leave you to it”, Byleth said.
Except that.
“Wait”, she said before he turned around. “You’re leaving?”
“I don’t want to interrupt you from enjoying your cake”, he answered flatly.
“But… it’s your cake”, she whispered.
“My cake?” he asked uncertainly. “You made this cake for me? Why?”
Did he really not know? She thought it was super obvious. That it was barely hidden secret.
“Byleth, do you know what today is?”
He contemplated the question, his brows furrowing slightly.
“It’s the nineteenth day of the Horsebow Moon”, he answered. He observed as she nodded for him to keep going, but he stood in confusion. Her eyes widened. Could he truly not know?
“My love. I made your birthday cake. Today is your birthday” she announced inadequately.
He looked between her and the cake, his eyes widening at the revelation. He tentatively stepped toward the table and took the seat across from her. His mouth opened and closed several times, failing to speak.
“Today’s my birthday?” he finally spoke.
She chuckled, but it wasn’t funny. She could not blame him for forgetting his own birthday. Goddess knows she had forgotten hers before, too. But normally, when you remind someone it’s their birthday, they at least remember the date. But Byleth’s reaction seemed different.
“My love. Did you know today was your birthday?” she asked.
After a moment’s hesitation, he shook his head, no.
“Have you ever celebrated your birthday?”
After a longer hesitation, he shook his head again, slower this time. She winced at his response. She knew he had an unusual upbringing, raised by his father, but to not know your own birthday? She didn’t learn her birthday until she was older, but she at least had the wherewithal to remember it.
“How did you know today’s my birthday?” he interrupted her thoughts. She snapped back to attention.
“Claude told me a few days ago. I don’t know where he got the information. I’d assumed you told him”. She fidgeted in her seat. Awkwardness suffocated the air, and she lost her appetite.
“He probably learned from my father’s journal”. He sat down across from her, resting a hand on his chin. Her interest piqued at the respose.
“Your father’s journal?” she asked. “I assume you… lent him that journal?”
Knowing Claude, he could have swiped it in the middle of the night from his bedroom. Both he and Byleth had a nasty habit of prowling the monastery in the dark hours of the night. She had been spooked by both to varying results: comfort from Byleth and endless teasing from Claude.
“I did”, he replied. He looked past her, not focused on anything. He smiled, and she could understand he was reminiscing about something.
“The entry about my birth is actually dated on the twentieth”, he said. “I guess Claude assumes I was born the day before.”
They returned to silence, and Lysithea could feel a little relieved watching a warm smile return to his face. Still, it seemed his own birthday wasn’t in Byleth’s interest. She would apologize and promise to see him later. It would be a shame to let the cake go to waste, though.
“How big do you want your slice?” he asked. She looked up from the table and noticed Byleth holding the cutting knife, watching her expectantly.
“You’re staying?” she queried.
“Of course”, he replied tenderly. “Spending time with the woman I love, eating cake on a beautiful afternoon. I wouldn’t exchange it for anything.”
A pink dust glowed from her cheeks, but she smiled merrily at her betrothed.
“Maybe a piece about this big”. She measured a wide width with her fingers, pointing to the cake expectantly. He smiled at her antics and obliged her request. He handed her the slice and cut his own equally sizable piece. They ate in a calming quiet, exchanging quick glances that turned into longing stares.
Before he was even halfway finished with his slice, she was already asking for more. He spent the rest of the afternoon with her, eating cake and enjoying her company, prepared to spend many happy birthdays in the future repeating the same.