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The Gautier’s family estate loomed over him, and Felix scowled up at its spires as though its architecture was the source of his foul temper. He knew that from this point on, there was going to be no end to the amount of asinine commentary to endure. Were Felix here for any less compelling reason, he would have thrown up his hands and marched himself right back to Fraldarius, but that would mean abandoning Ann—a useful ally to the war effort, and that didn’t sit right with him after she’d made such a direct appeal for help. With that in mind, he braced himself, approached the front door and sent the Gautier’s butler in search of Sylvain.
He was escorted into a parlor, though he didn’t bother taking a seat. He wasn’t planning on staying long, and anyway his clothes were filthy from traveling. He had little reason to expect the margrave to be home; like Fraldarius, the war was close to the borders of his territory and he would be off commanding his household knights on the frontlines. Sylvain would have been there too, but his father had sent him home to prepare a new batch of knights. After more than three years of fighting, they were down to hastily training and knighting boys that should have served as squires for at least a couple more years. Fraldarius was in similar straights.
The thought of what those boys were headed to was grim—a stark contrast to the luxury of the room around him. Yet the room itself was half-empty. Precious items had been sold off to equip Gautier’s warriors, and though the walls were still beautifully painted and there were a few shining treasures on the mantle, the only furniture in the room were two long couches and a low table for tea. Everything else had disappeared to fund the war effort.
Felix had wandered over toward the fireplace when Sylvain appeared, trying to distract himself from thoughts of her, locked away like some princess in a storybook. But that was an absurd comparison, because he was certainly no prince even if he did mean to rescue her, and those horrid little stories were always so trite and—and romantic—and there was nothing romantic about freeing a captured ally from a prison, even if that prison was her uncle’s house and even if her stupid songs were always stuck in his stupid head and he couldn’t stop thinking about—
“I was wondering how long it would take you to get here,” Sylvain said, breaking into his frankly idiotic thoughts. “You beat my best estimate by eight hours. You must have nearly killed your horse.”
“I brought two,” Felix replied defensively. He might not be any great horseman, but he understood enough to keep from taxing them to the point of pain or exhaustion.
Sylvain was wearing plate armor padded with wool. He looked much more mature than the student he’d been at the Officers Academy, but four years of fighting did that to a man. Of course, that hard-earned warrior’s bearing was immediately ruined by his friend’s mischievous grin. “I knew you’d be worried.”
Felix snorted. “I’m not worried, but we need all the help we can get in this war.”
Sylvain’s grin somehow managed to become even more annoying but he didn’t argue. Instead, he rang for a servant. When the butler appeared again, he requested that the final preparations for his departure would be made.
“Final preparations?” Felix’s brow furrowed.
“I told you I knew you were coming. In four years I’ve barely heard from you, but the second I got Annette’s letter I knew. So I started setting aside some supplies. Everything should be ready to go by the time we’ve had something to eat.”
“That’s ridiculous, I would have come for any of you.” Felix crossed his arms over his chest. “And we shouldn’t waste time by having a formal luncheon.”
Sylvain laughed at that, and Felix had the uncomfortable feeling that he was being mocked for something. He glared at his friend but wasn’t surprised when the redhead didn’t appear chastised in the slightest. “Felix, this is the last hot meal we’re going to have for who knows how long. Let’s eat it while everything gets loaded into saddlebags. Besides, Ingrid has been looking forward to lunch since we finished breakfast.”
“Ingrid’s already here?” That would save them a detour into Count Galatea’s domains, but the knowing look Sylvain gave him again felt like some sort of joke at his expense.
“She was just as sure that you’d show up as I was. Arrived via pegasus last night. She’s probably already in the dining room. Let’s go.”
Sylvain’s prediction turned out to be true: Ingrid was already seated at the table and was chatting amiably with a footman about the meal. She glanced up as the men entered and nodded at Felix as though they often sat at table together. Felix felt another stab of annoyance. Why was everyone acting so casually about this? His fingers twitched with impatience.
“Sylvain didn’t think you’d be here until after nightfall,” she commented. “If you’d flown, you would have been here by breakfast.”
Felix colored and glared at her. “You know my opinion about flying.”
Sylvain clapped a hand on his shoulder before moving toward the chair on Ingrid’s right. “I told you he’s afraid of heights.”
“I am not—”
“He had no problem on the bridge to the cathedral in Garreg Mach,” Ingrid reminded him.
“—afraid of heights,” Felix finished. He should have known that these two weren’t going to focus on the problem at hand. His fists found his hips. “Can we just get this meal over with so we can go?”
“He doesn’t trust anything with wings,” Sylvain said to Ingrid, ignoring him.
“He doesn’t trust anything without them either,” she shot back.
“This is pointless. I shouldn’t have come here. I’m going on ahead; you two can catch up when you’re done.” He spun on his heel and started to head back toward the entryway but was blocked by the first footman arriving with the main course. Sylvain was out of his seat and had caught Felix in a flash, shaking his head at his friend.
“Trust me, we’re just as serious about rescuing Annette as you are.” Then his grim expression cracked and he amended, “Well, maybe not just as serious—”
“Sylvain,” Felix warned, and his friend held up a placating hand.
“I promise you, as soon as the stable boy brings word that everything is ready, we’ll be on the road.”
He was as true as his word. Ingrid had hardly pushed her plate away when the stable boy sent word that the provisions had been packed and the horses made ready. Felix was the first one outside, marching toward the stables with one hand on the hilt of his sword. He knew he needed to get control—to at the very least curb his impatience—before they reached Dominic. A hot temper would be a risk while they were in enemy territory. But he grew impatient every time he thought of Annette stuck in her uncle’s estate, awaiting Cornelia’s pleasure.
Guilt drowned out his irritation as he remembered his initial disgust with her. Edelgard’s army had charged their way into the Kingdom and Baron Dominic had capitulated to Cornelia without much of a fuss. When Annette had remained silent, Felix had assumed that she had capitulated as well. He’d convinced himself that the sting of betrayal he’d felt was actually resentment and focused on the front lines.
Then her letter had arrived, and he had to admit that he’d been wrong about her. He should have known—his instinct was that she would never have betrayed the Kingdom, but he’d deceived himself when she’d stayed in Dominic. She had been biding her time, and when it came she had finally broken her silence. She’d written to plead his aid as soon as she’d been able to secure a means of secret communication.
Well. Not just him. She had written Mercedes, Sylvain and Ingrid as well. Obviously she hadn’t intended for him to come to her rescue alone, like some…like…like some besotted fool in those romance stories that kept coming to mind. He flushed and was grateful that Sylvain couldn’t read his thoughts. This journey was going to be insufferable enough as it was.
It was worse. The weather turned foul as they headed south, and a steady, icy sleet had dogged their travels for two days. What was usually a journey of only a few days threatened to take as long as week, and Felix’s temper had long since frayed. Even Sylvain knew that it wouldn’t be wise to push his friend any further, so all good-natured ribbing about rushing off to save the maiden fair had ceased. While Ingrid hunted for their food, they set about making the camp comfortable and getting a cookfire going. By the fourth day, this was done in silence.
Felix had enough sense to realize he was being the unreasonable one. He usually prided himself on his control, but lately it had eluded him entirely. The worst part was that he wasn’t sure why his nerves were so raw. He was concerned for Annette, but she wasn’t in any immediate danger. Perhaps she was in the least amount of danger, seeing as the rest of them frequently found themselves on the front lines of the fighting.
It occurred to him that shame might be spurring him on, but he shoved that away. Shame had its uses, but there was no point in sitting around bemoaning what he couldn’t change. So what was it that was making his skin crawl with the need to move faster?
When the storm broke, they all packed up and pushed on without a word. Ingrid took the lead; she was a better scout than Sylvain, and Felix—while comfortable with hiking and camping when necessary—was not an enthusiastic outdoorsman. He would have struggled to find a way through Dominic that kept them off of the main thoroughfares, but even with the fresh snow Ingrid was able to keep them out of sight and moving in the right direction.
They reached the estate the next day. Once it had been an impressive wooden keep perched on a small, wooded hill. Nearby, fresh spring water bubbled up from the rocks and would feed a merry stream in the summer, but it had frozen during the storm. A small town lay in the valley below, and a winding road curved its way up to the seat of the Dominics.
The old keep was long gone, though traces of the outer ring wall were visible as scars in the terrain. A reasonably modern stone house sat on the hilltop now, modest but well-designed. It would be hopeless to defend in a siege, but Dominic territory wasn’t an important target, tactically speaking. Besides, the baron had quickly seen which way the winds were blowing, Felix thought darkly. There would be no sieges for Dominic to withstand. At least not in this war.
“So…what’s the plan?” Sylvain asked as they looked over the house from the safety of the woods.
“I’ll go to town. People don’t recognize me with my short hair. I’ll look for Mercedes; Annette said she had written her too so she should be here already.” Ingrid glanced back and forth between her companions. “Try not to kill each other before I get back.”
“Then you’d better come back soon,” Felix said acidly. “Sylvain hasn’t gotten any less annoying over the years.”
“And Felix hasn’t gotten laid, otherwise he might not be so damned miserable,” Sylvain replied. He smiled easily at his friend but there was some heat behind his words. Ingrid sighed and hoped that Mercedes was already in town. At this rate, blood was going to be spilled.
“Behave,” she hissed at them. Then she slipped the hood of her cloak over her head and began picking her way down the forested hillside toward the town.
Mercifully, Mercedes had arrived in town two days before they had. Ingrid brought her back to the camp before nightfall and she perched herself next to the fire Felix had built. Sylvain made sure he was sitting between Ingrid and Mercedes and was taking pains to compliment the later on her new hair in a way that had Ingrid glaring at him. Felix sat slightly apart from the others and tried to keep his eyes away from the windows of Dominic House, otherwise he’d torture himself wondering which one was hers.
“It’s good to see all of you again,” Mercedes was saying. “And I know Annie will be so grateful you came. She was so worried that you’d think of her as a traitor.”
Guilt twisted Felix’s guts into knots. “Have you heard from her since her letter?”
“No, but she did mention that the baron was having all of her correspondence opened and read before it could be sent. It seems like she was only able to find someone to smuggle out a message the one time…I wonder if that means he was caught.”
Sylvain made a noise. “If that’s the case, I hope the baron is more merciful than Cornelia.”
“We can’t do anything about that,” Felix said. “Do any of you have any ideas about how we can get to Annette?”
“Oh, certainly.” Mercedes smiled at him. “My, I never expected you to be so worried, Felix.”
“I’m not worried,” he grumbled. Sylvain let out a bark of laughter but didn’t comment, and Felix felt his ears go red. Why did he have to have such an ass for a best friend?
“What’s your plan?” Ingrid asked quickly, hoping to distract the men before they could start bickering again.
“Well, my adoptive father is a merchant in Fhirdiad. I could say I’ve come to visit. It won’t be hard to convince Baron Dominic that my father has fallen in line with Imperial control. It’s doubtful that he’d have bothered to pay attention to the loyalties of someone so far below him in status, and they’re unlikely to meet. If I present myself as an Imperial loyalist, I don’t think he’d object to me seeing Annette. Then I can help her out of the estate,” Mercedes explained.
“And she could come north with us,” Sylvain said, nodding. “We could use her experience on the battlefield. Fraldarius forces might appreciate another mage too, eh Felix?”
Felix grunted.
“Come for us in three days,” Mercedes said. “We’ll sneak out to the stables at midnight.”
“And if Baron Dominic doesn’t buy your act? What then?” Felix asked. He told himself it was impatience that made him sharp, not worry. But Mercedes wasn’t stung by his tone. Instead she spoke with calm authority.
“I suppose in that case we’d have to break her out with force,” she said. “But it won’t come to that. The baron knows me. He thinks I’m a dutiful young woman, he won’t suspect me.”
Sylvain grinned, his eyes flashing in the firelight. “Sweet Mercedes, you’re downright devious…I like it.”
The smile she gave him was beatific in return.
Two nights passed. Felix watched the windows. Which light was hers? Had Mercedes told her they had come? Or were they too closely watched for that kind of conversation? Had she cut her hair too?
Why the hell was he thinking about her hair?
When he was alone on watch, while Ingrid and Sylvain snored in the tent behind him, he brought out her letter and smoothed it open, reading it over again.
I think I’ve finally earned enough trust for my uncle to relax his surveillance of me, she’d written. I could probably get out of the estate on my own, but I’m not sure how much further I can get without help.
I know it’s a lot to ask and that it won’t be easy, but…I need help. So I’m cordially inviting you to kidnap me. Pretty please. If you’re not busy. Of course you’re busy. But it’s killing me to sit here when I should be fighting with all of you, so if you don’t hate me after all this time, please come.
Your friend,
Annette
Only Annette would cordially invite someone to kidnap her. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to put aside the image of her, singing about food as she watered the greenhouse plants, the playful little sweep and step of the accompanying dance. He’d never met anyone as endlessly cheerful as her. He had been completely prepared to be annoyed by it, by the chirpy remarks and the defiantly positive work ethic. But it had been…endearing.
It made her few moments of vulnerability even more heartbreaking. She seemed to armor herself in joy, so whenever Gilbert snubbed or rebuffed her, her tears made him seethe on her behalf. She let so little break her, but somehow Gilbert retained that power. In their academy days, Felix had to bite his tongue a hundred times to keep from snapping at her, from reminding her that her father didn’t deserve her, that she should leave him to his miserable, self-imposed penance.
He never did, of course. He could handle her scorn. He didn’t want to add to her heartbreak.
Still, if Felix ever saw the knight again, swords would be crossed. Had Gilbert been worth a damn, Annette wouldn’t have needed this rescue.
He realized he was grimacing when his jaw started to ache. He forced his face back into a neutral expression and tucked the letter back into a hidden pocket in his coat. Gilbert’s neglect was disgusting but not relevant. Where her father failed, he would succeed.
Midnight was black and cold. Mercedes had chosen her night well: there was no moon, and the winter starlight was weak. There was little chance they’d be spotted if they could just make it back to the tree line. Cautiously, Felix followed Ingrid and Sylvain toward the stables. The horses were asleep, swaying gently as they shifted their weight. Ingrid gestured to the tack room and Sylvain and Felix hauled down enough tack to saddle two of the sturdier mares for Annette and Mercedes. Their own horses were ready for a quick departure back at camp. Taking a couple of the baron’s mounts was risky, but they’d need to put some distance between themselves and the estate, and sharing horses would only slow them down and tire the animals.
Ingrid and Sylvain was just double checking the straps on the saddles when Mercedes and Annette appeared, their breaths clouding the cold air. They were wearing heavy winter cloaks and boots, but the rest of their clothing was on the impractical side. Still, it was a miracle they had made it out at all. Felix would quibble about their dresses later.
It was just at that moment Annette lifted her eyes to him and suddenly he stopped caring about practicality at all as his chest constricted. He was breathing but his lungs protested anyway, and his heart was thumping heavily against his ribs. Mercedes murmured something to Ingrid and Sylvain but Felix couldn’t hear it over the roar in his ears. Then Annette tilted her head and smiled at him like she wasn’t sure that was the right thing to do, and suddenly he was on fire. He took one step toward her, opened his mouth to say some stupid thing—
—and the stable door opened.
Everyone turned. Felix’s sword came to his hand first, but Ingrid and Sylvain were only a half-second behind. Even as his blade cleared its sheath, he saw that it was not a guard in the door but a woman, dressed in a nightgown and wrapped in a thick wool mantle lined with fur. Her hair, a milder strawberry blonde compared to Annette’s fiery waves, was loose and fell down her back. She looked at them all, then at the saddled horses, before finally letting her gaze come to rest on her daughter.
“You know I can’t let you leave,” she said. Annette’s eyes had gone huge in her pale face. Felix glanced at her as she licked her lips and gathered her courage.
“I’m sorry, Mother. I have to go.”
Annette’s mother studied the rest of the group again, this time looking closer. Felix saw the moment she recognized them.
“Your classmates?” she asked her daughter.
“Yes.”
“And rebels.”
Annette’s eyes flashed but there was only a small waver in her voice when she said, “Yes.”
Her mother sighed. A frown pulled together her delicate eyebrows. “You would call down Cornelia’s wrath on your uncle for these people?”
“I’m sorry for that. I really am. But I have to follow my heart.” Annette stepped closer to the group and Felix edged toward her, folding her into the group. Ingrid mirrored him, pushing the unarmed women toward the center of their loose circle.
“Your heart? Annette, what is this nonsense?” Lady Dominic demanded.
“I…I’m in love,” Annette replied, this time unable to mask the tremble in her voice. Lady Dominic’s eyebrows flew up.
“What?” she asked.
That was exactly what Felix wanted to know. He hardened his expression against his surprise and attempted to ignore the wave of discomfort that was cresting over him. He tried to catch sight of Annette’s face from the corner of his eyes, but she was too far back and too focused on her mother. Was this real, or just a scheme to win Lady Dominic’s sympathies?
“Yes. I’m in love and engaged to be married, and I won’t be kept away from my betrothed any longer,” Annette was saying, and her confidence grew as she spoke. Relief washed over Felix as quickly as the panic had come. It was a scheme after all. Well, he wasn’t going to be the most affectionate of pretend lovers, but if Annette thought this idiotic plan would work, he could act like a besotted fiancé for a few moments.
“You got engaged in the middle of a war? And you didn’t tell me?” Lady Dominic sounded hurt—and skeptical. Felix swallowed and prepared to move to Annette’s side, meaning to confirm this wild story by any means necessary.
“I—I did. Mother, please allow me to introduce Sylvain Gautier…my fiancé.”
And just like that, Annette was pulling Sylvain forward and linking their arms. Sylvain, quick on the uptake and always eager to cozy up to a pretty girl, broke into a wide smile and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. As he watched in horror, something rose and then dropped in Felix’s stomach and he wondered for a moment if he was going to throw up.
“Nice to meet you, Lady Dominic,” Sylvain said, “or should I call you Mom?”
And though this wasn’t the first time Felix had wanted to turn his blade in his friend, it certainly was the time he most wanted to cause serious damage.
There was a silence after Annette’s announcement. Ingrid shot Felix a probing glance, no doubt hoping for some hint of his feelings on this development. He kept his expression stony and didn’t look back at her. She’d probably read into that as well, but at least this way he felt as though he’d maintained a little of his personal dignity.
“How could I possibly support you running away in the middle of the night to elope and turning rebel against the Dukedom? Annette, I loved the Kingdom dearly, but it’s time to face the reality of our situation. We don’t have your father’s support or protection, our territory has been occupied, and your uncle is already in a precarious position. Gustave’s loyalty to the royal house has cast doubts on all of us. If you do this, Cornelia may execute the only family that remains to you,” Lady Dominic said. Her words fell on deaf ears.
“I’m leaving. And if you can’t allow me to go, you’ll have to come with us.”
Felix made a disgusted sound but gestured for Ingrid to head back to the tack room. He recognized the hard edge of determination in Annette’s eyes and knew there was no prevailing against it. They’d just have to saddle another horse.
Lady Dominic caught the movement and understood Annette’s words at the same time. She turned as though she was going to make a break for the grand house, but Felix had been waiting for that. He slid around her; years of training had made him as quick as a cat, which made it possible for him to block the exit before Lady Dominic could make use of it.
“This is a bad idea,” he said to Annette, wishing they weren’t the first words he’d spoken to her in years.
“Letting her go would be a worse one,” she replied, and it was hard to argue with that, so he fell silent again.
“And here I’d hoped to make a good first impression on your family,” Sylvain quipped as he helped Mercedes onto her horse. “I suppose there’s no coming back from a midnight kidnapping. Your mother will just have to hate me, darling.”
“Stop being an idiot and help Ingrid with that horse. We need to go,” Felix snapped. This fake betrothal turned kidnapping was going to be a situation he had to live with for days, maybe as long as a week. Sylvain wasn’t going to survive it if he didn’t shut up.
A few minutes later, six people and three horses left the stable. Again, Felix found himself grateful for the lack of moonlight. They made for the tree line, moving as quickly as they dared. There had been a bad moment when the group had been certain that Lady Dominic would start shouting for help, but she had glanced at Felix’s sword—loose in its sheath and never far from his hand—and thought better of it. Perhaps Annette had won more of her sympathy than she’d let on, or perhaps Felix’s glower had convinced her that he would have no qualms about forcing her to be silent. Either way, they moved into the welcoming darkness of forest without incident.
The camp had already been broken down in anticipation of the need for a swift departure, so it took only a few moments for everyone to be mounted on their own horses. Before leaving her side, Ingrid made sure that Lady Dominic was bound securely to her mount. She would be made to ride in the middle of the pack so any escape attempts could be instantly thwarted. Annette rode beside her for a time as they wound their way through the shadowy woods. Their whispers were swallowed by snow-covered trees, yet it was easy to tell that the tension between them was high. Felix wasn’t surprised when Annette urged her horse away in favor of Mercedes’s company. It was going to be a long ride back to the last bastions of the Kingdom.
They worked their way steadily east, moving up into the mountains between Charon and Galatea. They’d cut north soon, but it was going to stay chilly. Though there were weeks to go before the Ethereal Moon would begin, Faerghus was giving them a hint of what was to come this winter. Felix poked at the fire, trying to coax the flames high enough that he could cook the fish Sylvain had caught for breakfast. Normally he didn’t spare much thought about the weather but pondering about how to feed the rebel army through the coldest months of the year kept him from thinking of Sylvain’s enthusiastic acting.
For two days he’d been subjected to the sight of his idiot friend putting his hands on Annette any chance he could get. His arm would find her waist if they were standing near one another. He would sweep the hair back from her face. He dropped kisses to her hands or her cheeks, once even placed one on the tip of her nose. He laughed whenever she blushed and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm even if they were only walking from one side of the camp to the other. Then there were the little whispers and the way he saw her off to her tent at night and then sent longing glances in the direction of the closed flap.
He was taking the whole thing way too far, as usual. And as usual, Felix had to play along because if he allowed his temper free rein, he’d ruin the whole charade.
Furious with himself for giving a damn in the first place, he cleaned and spit the fish on sharpened branches, then leaned them over the flames and sat back to watch them roast. When that was done, he waited, knowing it wouldn’t be long before the smell of breakfast tempted hungry travelers from their tents.
Ingrid was out of her tent first, followed by Lady Dominic. Mercedes and Annette emerged from a second tent before Sylvain finally dragged himself into the sunlight. The moment Sylvain spotted his fiancée, as he was so fond of calling her, his face split into a grin and he sidled up close enough to toss his arm around her shoulders.
“You look lovely this morning, my darling,” he told her, ignoring her stony look. Her hands went up to the wild waves of her hair and Felix smirked a little as she attempted to flatten it against her head.
“Don’t tease her, Sylvain,” Ingrid grumped. Her eyes were on the cooking fish. “Please tell me those will be done soon?”
Felix shrugged. “They’re not too bulky, it shouldn’t take long.”
“I still have some bread, we could toast it,” Mercedes suggested.
“Let’s do that. It won’t last much longer, then we’ll have to switch to pottage,” Felix agreed. Lady Dominic’s face was a picture of horror, but the rest of them were well-used to road rations. Even during their school days, whenever they’d gone on campaign Byleth had insisted they try to emulate field conditions as closely as possible, and that meant eating whatever terrible food they could carry or forage and fighting on a half-full stomach.
They settled to eat, and for a few minutes all was quiet. Felix began to hope that he wouldn’t be subjected to more of Sylvain’s attentions to Annette, but it wasn’t to be. Between bites of his breakfast, Sylvain turned his most charming smile on Lady Dominic.
“I was thinking Annette and I could elope as soon as we get back to Gautier territory,” he was saying. He winked at Annette and then shot Felix a smug glance. “I figure…why wait any longer? This war has already kept us apart for too long. Don’t you agree, sweetheart?”
Annette was too busy finishing her fish to answer. Sylvain nudged her. “Sweetheart?” he urged.
“Hm?” She blinked at him, then looked to her mother. “Oh. No, I…doesn’t that seem too sudden? I’ve never even met the margrave, perhaps we ought to wait a few more weeks—”
“I don’t know if I can, darling. I just love you so much. Don’t you want to get married as soon as possible?” he asked, batting his eyelashes at her. Annette’s expression took on a tinge of panic, but she tried to keep a smile on her face for her mother’s benefit.
“Uh…if-if that would make you happy, of course we can! Mercedes can help me make the cake.”
Felix rolled his eyes and stood. “While you two plan your happily ever after, I’m going to take care of the horses. We should get moving.”
“Don’t mind him,” Sylvain stage-whispered to Lady Dominic. “He’s always like that.”
Felix gripped his sword and strode away before he was tempted to draw it (again).
Sylvain and Mercedes saw to tearing down the camp while Ingrid helped Felix with the horses. Lady Dominic stood in the center of the activity, watching her captors as they worked. She didn’t offer to help. Normally Annette would have been doing her part to pack up their supplies, but this time she found her way to Felix’s side. She watched in silence as he settled the saddle over the blanket on the back of her horse, but as he tended to the girth strap she spoke up.
“I’m sorry. I should have thanked you for coming sooner,” she said. Her eyes were locked on his hands, so he kept his gaze there too, though he’d done this often enough now that saddling a horse was mostly muscle memory.
“It’s fine,” he told her, trying to keep his tone light. It came out more sharply than he’d intended, and he glared down at the girth strap like it had offended him. Why did she always make him feel so clumsy and stupid?
“I’m trying to be nice,” she said, clearly stung by his short response.
“There’s nothing to thank me for.” Finally, Felix forced himself to look at her. “You needed me, I came. You’d have done the same thing if our situations had been reversed.”
She frowned at him, but he could see some of the hurt draining out of her eyes. Then she nodded. “I would. So you can stop pretending you’re some lone wolf having to do everything all alone. You might be able to, but you don’t have to. And now I owe you one, so…you know. Don’t forget.”
He shot her an amused glance. “Is that how you think of me? A lone wolf?”
She glared at him. “I don’t think about you at all, Felix Fraldarius.”
Though her bravado was a dead giveaway that she was lying through her teeth, he still felt a flash of pain. “Ah. Well, that’s not exactly a surprise,” he said, and very carefully kept his face blank as he turned back to the horse. “You should go see to your mother.”
“I—it really does mean a lot that you came,” she said doubtfully, aware that somewhere their conversation had gone wrong once again.
“It was nothing,” he said. She gave him one last uncertain look before turning away, and suddenly he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He flipped around and caught her wrist before she could leave. “Annette—why did you say you were engaged to Sylvain?”
She turned toward him and caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “Well…Mother knows Mercedes and I are just friends, and I almost said Ingrid instead but then I thought it would shock her too much and Mother would be able to tell I was lying.”
“I…you’re probably right about Ingrid,” he admitted, determined not to ask her why it hadn’t been his name that had come to her lips. Obviously she wouldn’t have said his name. He didn’t exactly come across as a doting lover type.
She tilted her head as she studied him, her eyes roaming over his face slowly in her search for clues about what he was thinking. He was relieved she’d never know how thoroughly that little lip-bite had gotten under his skin.
“I didn’t think it would bother you,” she said at last. The words poured out of her in a nervous rush that made his heart flip. More tentatively she asked, “Does it bother you?”
He closed his eyes and searched for calm. It eluded him completely. “Of course it bothers me, Annette.”
A furious blush flooded her cheeks. Her eyes had gone wide and her lips had parted, and he had to turn his face away before he did something stupid like kiss her when they were twelve feet away from her ‘fiancé’.
“Wel-ll, I guess…we’ll be out of the Dukedom soon, and then we can let Mother go and…and it will be over. No more engagement,” she said.
“Ah, so she doesn’t want to attend your elopement at the margrave’s estate?” he asked, and the corner of his lips twitched as he watched a look of slight panic cross her face. She’d always been easy to tease.
“I really hope she doesn’t insist! Why did he even bring it up?” She covered her face with both hands and groaned. Feeling more relaxed now that the air had been somewhat cleared between them, Felix gave a dry chuckle.
“That’s why you never ask Sylvain to improvise,” he told her. “The damn fool is always talking us into trouble.”
“I guess it’s up to me to talk us out of it again,” she said with a sigh. “Well, I better get back.”
“Yeah.”
“And…it’s good to see you again.” She smiled, a crooked little smile he’d never seen before, which paired with her pink cheeks was perfectly designed to soften even the hardest of hearts. “Even if you are evil.”
“Maybe you’ll make up a song about me. Evil Felix and the Exploding Library. I wouldn’t mind hearing it,” he retorted, and she rolled her eyes and groaned again before turning and jogging back toward her mother. Felix watched her go, though he could feel Ingrid’s eyes on his back and knew he was making his interest too obvious. Then he returned to the horse, giving her girth strap one last good tug. He felt better now. It would never be easy watching Sylvain tuck Annette against his side or drop kisses to the top of her head, but he was comforted by the conversation they’d just had. Perhaps everyone would make it back to friendly territory in once piece after all.
They skirted past Conand Tower to the east and continued their way north into Fraldarius territory. The weather was holding and warm autumn winds blew them along, chasing them away from the mountain range as they traced the river toward Felix’s childhood home. It was so different from the freezing trek southward that it was hard to believe it had been the same season. The terrain changed from forested mountains dusted with snow to rolling moors and craggy highlands covered in heather. Felix took the lead as they came closer and closer toward the heart of his father’s territory. They’d decided to release Lady Dominic once they’d reached Rodrigue’s estate. She would be given a choice of staying or traveling back toward Dominic with an escort. Everyone else would rest for a few days before continuing on toward Gautier territory and the front lines.
The ambush came at twilight, just after the camp had been set up and everyone had gathered to prepare their dwindling rations for supper. Even Felix had relaxed his guard now that he was home, and he didn’t see the Agarthan mages and Imperial soldiers materialize out of the moors like smoke. They slammed into the camp like a battering ram that happened to be one fire, forcing a wedge between Ingrid, Sylvain and Mercedes and Felix, Annette and Lady Dominic.
Instantly it was chaos. The horses, which had been tethered to long leads that had been staked into the ground, began rearing and kicking as the mages torched the nearby tents. A man with a pike was running at Sylvain, but Felix lost sight of him as an axe man rushed at him with a battle cry that sounded like Edelgard’s name. His sword was already out of its sheath and he planted his feet, bracing himself for impact.
Glyphs flared into the gathering darkness and a blade of air sliced past him, catching his attacker right under his raised arm. The man faltered just as a second blade slashed into his neck and face, and he fell to the floor before Felix could engage.
“Now we’re even,” Annette said from behind him. “A rescue for a rescue.”
He snorted. “I didn’t need a rescue,” he told her.
One of her shoulders lifted in a dismissive shrug. “You got one anyway. Just be grateful.”
Before he could reply, they both had to return to the fray. A small but fierce battle was now joined over the wreckage of their campsite, and the travelers were outnumbered. Annette was flinging Wind and Wind-adjacent spells like some sort of elemental spirit, while Ingrid had managed to disarm one of the Imperials with her sword and take his lance. Soon she was using the longer weapon to devastating effect as Sylvain grimly chopped his axe into anyone that drew near enough.
A Nosferatu spell flashed into the enemies and a gash on Mercedes’s thigh resealed itself nearly as fast as it had appeared. Even Lady Dominic had shot off a sizzling Miasma spell, though there was a deep frown on her face as she engaged the forces that should have been her allies. Felix doubted this small raiding party would even care that Dominic was sympathetic to the Empire. All they wanted were horses, money or food. Not even a ransom would likely tempt them too much since they’d have to wait to negotiate any sort of reward.
They were holding their own, but the Imperials’ superior numbers were a problem. And then there were the Agarthan mages. Sinister black masks flashed as fire spells burst from their spread fingers, punching into the horses and making the animals screech in agony before succumbing to their wounds. Then those fireballs were turned on the humans.
Desperation made Felix fight like a demon. He lost count of the men he cut out of his way. Beside him, Annette thinned out the enemies as best she could from a distance. Lady Dominic tried to call out to the leader, tried to identify herself, but the sounds of battle drowned out her appeals. Two of the horses were dead and one was rolling on the ground, badly injured. Sylvain was favoring one arm, and Ingrid had an arrow in her shoulder. He had taken a grazing slash from a spear and blood was pouring down his chest. Yet they were gaining ground and he could see the bloodlust draining out of the Imperials as they realized this was a harder fight than they’d counted on. As their morale flagged, the lieutenant in charge signaled a retreat and Felix redoubled his efforts to keep his friends alive for just a few more moments.
It seemed they were going to survive the encounter until a burst of flame hit one of the two horses still on tethered near the camp. The flames almost instantly engulfed the entire center of its body. Driven mad with panic, the animal took off at a gallop. The lead didn’t stand a chance—one powerful wrench dragged the stake out of the ground and the freed horse was now fully out of control. It burst through the fighters, scattering them left and right—but Annette was still locked in a deadly dance with an Imperial pikeman, trying to keep herself out of range of his long weapon while firing spells off to distract him. She realized there was another source of danger too late, and even as Felix and Mercedes shouted her name, the screaming horse trampled right over her before streaking across the moors, still on fire.
Felix cut down two more men as he fought his way toward her, but the Imperials were swiftly disappearing back into the mist and heather even then. He didn’t care. His eyes were locked on the still, broken form of Annette. She was face down and the earth was churned up all around her, muddying her hair and clothes. Blood was already starting to soak through her dress, but he couldn’t tell where exactly it was coming from. He dropped to his knees beside her and tried to determine where he should apply pressure, but she seemed to be injured everywhere.
Mercedes swooped down on them next, just as Ingrid and Sylvain approached. Lady Dominic came closer too, pale as a ghost.
“Is she—?” the woman asked.
“She’s alive,” Mercedes replied, already constructing the glyph for healing magic. “But there are broken bones, internal bleeding…I need to focus. This is going to take all my skill.”
Felix gave a jerk of his head indicating that he, Sylvain and Ingrid should form a loose ring around the two women on the ground. Lady Dominic stumbled over toward her daughter, her grey eyes wide in her white face. A soft glow radiated out from Mercedes’s hands as she began repairing her friend’s body. Felix tore his gaze away from the blood—so much of it, too much of it—and forced himself to watch the landscape for any hint of trouble to come.
Mercedes worked her white magic for a long time.
By the time the birds began singing in anticipation of the dawn, Felix was barely keeping his composure. Every sound, every subtle movement as Mercedes shifted or turned Annette gently to examine a different injury, was slowly cracking through his armor. Despite the cooler weather, he could feel the sweat trickling down his spine while he waited for any indication that Mercedes’s desperate efforts had paid off.
Finally, as the rising sun did its best to burn through the cloud cover, Annette made a noise. Felix twisted to look at her. She’d lost so much blood that her entire face was white, making her look like a ghost under her muddied red hair. She looked up at Mercedes in a daze.
“Everything hurts,” she managed.
“I know,” Mercedes replied, smoothing the loose strands of hair out of her friend’s face. “Try to rest. You’ll feel better soon.”
“Is everyone—?”
“We’re all okay,” Felix said, unable to stay away any longer. He edged closer, trying to keep his voice gentle. It didn’t come naturally to him. “Everyone is safe for now.”
Annette sighed. Her eyes slipped shut and she drifted into unconsciousness once again, comforted by the knowledge that her mother and her friends were in one piece. Felix thought that if he ever came across the mage that had done all this damage, he would take great pleasure in making sure the bastard never hurt anyone again. His hands shook and he clenched them against his sides, trying to regain some sort of composure.
“Let’s pack up. We should get to safety as soon as possible,” he said. A glance in Ingrid’s direction was enough to gain her assistance as he set to work. Sylvain remained where he was, watching the horizon for any hostiles while also keeping track of Lady Dominic. The daylight should have made the moors feel safer, but Felix felt too exposed out here amongst the heather. His hands moved faster than normal as he tried to salvage some supplies from the ruined camp.
He and Ingrid picked through the ash and cinders until they’d found every last scrap of food that hadn’t been destroyed. Then they chased down the surviving horses. There were only two left and they pranced with anxiety as Ingrid drew near, but eventually they came back to the campsite willingly.
“We can use the tent materials to create some sort of sled for Annette. It won’t be the most comfortable ride, but I don’t think we have enough time or supplies to make anything better,” Ingrid said. “We can pile up our blankets and try and cushion her.”
“No. There’s a town not far. I’ll get a cart or a wagon or something. Lady Dominic can ride with her daughter. The rest of us will walk,” Felix said. He glanced over and watched as Sylvain gave Annette’s hand a squeeze, trying to maintain his role as her devoted fiancé. But he shot Felix a guilty look and pulled his hand back as soon as he could, and a strange silence settled over the group.
“We should move,” Mercedes said, breaking the spell. Her gentle reminder was all that was needed: Felix took one of the horses to the nearby hamlet and returned with it harnessed to a small haycart. It had cost him a small fortune, but he had handed over the gold without argument and would have paid twice the asking price if it helped safeguard Annette from further injury. Once back at camp. they made Annette a bed of blankets and carefully lifted her into it. Lady Dominic climbed in as well and sat at the back of the cart, her legs tucked beneath her.
“She needs you,” Felix reminded her. “Take care of her for once.”
Lady Dominic’s eyes flashed. “Does her betrothed know you’re in love with her? Does she?” she asked in cutting tones. Felix’s mouth tightened.
“Try to keep her comfortable,” he ordered, and strode away without another word.
Fraldarius castle rose out of the moors, as cold and grey as the swirling mist around it. It was every bit a fortress, though the inner keep had been furnished luxuriously enough to appease the honor of a duke. Felix felt a strange mix of emotions at the sight of it. It was his childhood home, but he’d also spent half his life in Fhirdiad. It was both familiar and strange to him, and he felt odd as he presented it to his companions. Sylvain had been there, but Ingrid had never stepped foot inside. Mercedes and Annette certainly hadn’t. Lady Dominic might have met her father in the capital, but it was doubtful she’d ever come so far north or east.
He led the way through the gates. Though they’d switched out the horses pulling the cart, the animals were both tired and in need of hot oats and careful rubdown. Annette was still pale and unconscious in her nest of blankets and Lady Dominic had dozed off beside her, but not before wrapping one of her arms around her daughter’s shoulders.
Servants immediately rushed out to help the ragged group. Felix gave orders for baths and bedchambers to be prepared for all of his guests, and in the meantime instructed a boy to run to the kitchens and find them something hot to eat.
Annette was carried through the great hall toward one of the massive fireplaces. Though there were four in the room, only one was lit. She stirred as she was lowered in front of it, turning her face to the light and warmth.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“This is Felix’s castle,” Sylvain said, nudging through the group to kneel beside her. “Do you think you could eat something?”
She nodded and he pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. Felix ignored his prickle of envy and gestured to one of the serving boys that had been dashing back and forth from the kitchen to the dining hall.
“Have the cook send some warm broth,” he requested. Then he paused and added, “And some milk with honey, but only a little.”
She’d like the sweet treat, though her stomach probably couldn’t handle more than that.
Lady Dominic was the one that fed Annette, spooning the broth into her daughter’s mouth patiently. Sylvain stayed too, so Ingrid brought his food to him. Felix forced himself to return to the dining hall with Mercedes and Ingrid, and they ate their meal in silence. Afterward, they reconvened near the fire and Felix gave instructions for Mercedes to be led to the room she’d be sharing with Annette, and for Annette to be carried there if she was done eating.
“I can walk,” Annette protested. No one thought this was a good idea, and she could see it on their faces. She let out an unhappy breath but didn’t protest.
“You need to sleep,” Lady Dominic said. “It will help you heal.”
“I need to sleep too,” Mercedes added. She looked nearly as pale as Annette did. “And then we should talk about splitting up.”
There was a brief silence as her words sank in, and then the entire group turned to look at her.
“Splitting up?” Sylvain shook his head. “We were almost slaughtered as it was, you can’t think we’d be safer in smaller groups.”
“Annette can’t go to the front lines like this. She won’t be ready to set foot on a battlefield for weeks and she’ll need my help to ensure she heals correctly. But your fathers need you to get back to the fight.” Mercedes ran her hands down her skirts before letting her shoulders drop in fatigued defeat. “We’ll have to release Lady Dominic. I’ll take Annette with me when I return home, and the rest of you can get back to the fighting. We’ll join you when we can.”
Felix let out a gusty sigh and looked away, unhappiness turning his expression even more stony than usual. “I’m sure my father won’t mind if I provide you with an escort, but you don’t have to leave. You’ll have the run of our castle for as long as you wish. It would be safer than traveling anyway.”
“Thank you,” Mercedes said with sincerity. “But I know feeding us would be a hardship, and anyway my family will need me soon. We’ll stay until worst danger has passed.”
“And it’s not like we’ll never see each other again,” Sylvain said. He tried a jovial smile that wasn’t quite as natural as he might have wanted it to look. “There’s always our promise to return to the monastery for the Millennium Festival.”
“No one’s at the monastery,” Felix reminded him. “It’s a ruin. There isn’t going to be any festival.”
Sylvain shrugged. “A promise is a promise.”
Mercedes smiled at him. “I’m still planning on going too,” she said, “and I’m sure Annette will want to come with me.”
Ingrid’s lips turned up in a reluctant smirk. “I have to go, or else Sylvain will probably end up getting killed on the way. So that just leaves you, Felix.”
He glared at her, but then his expression softened when he glanced over at Annette, smaller somehow in her bed of fur-lined blankets. His lifted his hands in a helpless gesture and shook his head. “Fine. I’ll come back for our stupid reunion, even if it’s a terrible idea and no one else is going to show up.”
Sylvain clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit!”
“Fool,” he snapped, just as Ingrid stepped between them and separated the two with a gentle push.
“Come on,” she said. “We all have journeys to prepare for. We’ll meet up again for breakfast.”
And after that, there was nothing to do but retreat and get some rest after their long, cold journey.
Mercedes spent the next week tending to Annette. To speed along her healing, white magic was worked over Annette’s body once every day. By the end of the week, she was walking with the help of makeshift crutches, though her ribs were still tightly bandaged and she couldn’t move very quickly. Some of the color had come back to her cheeks, and as the courtyard grew busy, she grew restless.
It was the day they were to separate. Felix, Sylvain and Ingrid would continue on to the front lines. Mercedes and Annette would travel back to Mercedes’s family with a strong escort. And Lady Dominic was free to go where she chose. She would have two armed men to get her to her destination, or at least to a border, and then she would have to rely on her Imperial allies for safe conduct.
Felix was ensuring that the men he’d selected as escorts were well-equipped for their journeys and was quizzing them on their chosen routes when Lady Dominic turned to Mercedes.
“I will tell Baron Dominic where she’s gone. It’s my duty.”
Mercedes blinked at her slowly, as if she was finding it difficult to comprehend Lady Dominic’s words. “I’m sure he must have guessed by now but do what you must.”
“And if he wants her back?” Lady Dominic’s chin rose.
“She won’t be going back,” Mercedes replied with a shrug. “If he’s prepared to lose men in the attempt, he’s welcome to try and retrieve her.”
“I don’t think my father would just sit back and allow my betrothed to be kidnapped, either,” Sylvain interjected as he came to a stop next to Felix. “I’m sure he could spare a few men for her defense.”
“I can hear you,” Annette reminded the group, “and I can defend myself.” She turned cool sea-grey eyes on her mother. “You might be on opposite sides of this war, but you’ve made the same choice Father once made: duty before family. Once you’ve gone straight to my uncle and told him everything, I’m sure you’ll tell yourself that you had no choice. But I’m your daughter. I’m fighting for our home. That is where your loyalty should lay.”
The color had drained out of Lady Dominic’s face as Annette spoke. She stared at her daughter, held together by some bandages and a bit of fury, and then looked away. Felix hoped she felt a bit of shame.
“I’m trying to preserve what’s left of our House,” Lady Dominic said at last, though she spoke to her feet and not to Annette’s face. “Your father disappeared the day Prince Dimitri was taken into custody. Cornelia already had suspicions about my loyalties. I had no choice but to turn to your uncle.”
Annette turned away. “Well, I do have a choice, Mother. I’m going with Mercedes. I would appreciate it if you kept that detail to yourself, but I don’t expect you to.”
There was a long silence after that. “I’ve earned this scorn,” Lady Dominic said softly. She finally lifted her gaze and studied Annette’s profile. Then she let out a sigh. “Of course I’ll protect you, Annette. Your uncle won’t hear about your plans from me.”
There was a pause as the group processed those words, and then Annette took a step toward her mother and they embraced. Felix thought the older woman was getting off too easily, but he didn’t bother voicing it aloud. It certainly wouldn’t help matters, and the sooner Lady Dominic was out of his father’s castle, the better.
She was the first to leave. She climbed up into a modest, unmarked carriage. One of her two escorts made his way into the driver’s seat while the other perched himself on the back, and with a flick of the reins they were off. When they were past the outer gates, the carriage took the southwest road. She’d be back in Dominic in three or four days if the weather held; his father’s seal would grant her safe conduct through this last bastion of Kingdom territory, and then she’d have to rely on her family name to see her through the Dukedom.
As soon as the carriage had rumbled out of sight, Sylvain let his arm drop away from Annette’s waist.
“I’m almost sorry it had to end,” he said as he winked at her. “But if you need me to play the role of your fake husband in future, consider me at your service.”
Felix gritted his teeth at that, but Annette only rolled her eyes. “Nice try, Sylvain.”
“If you’re so keen to play husband,” Ingrid added, “I could use a rescue. My father is still courting nobles, even in the middle of a war.”
Sylvain’s eyes flashed to hers and there was something shockingly earnest about the smile he gave her.
“Fake a wedding only to have you question my devotion to you for the rest of our lives? Nah,” he said, trying to make it sound like a joke. The slight hitch in his voice gave him away, and Ingrid’s lips parted in surprise as the implication of his words sank in. Then he cleared his throat and glanced around the remaining group.
“Ah, but I’m afraid farewells must be made instead of proposals. Annette, it was an honor being your fiancé. And lovely Mercedes, parting from your serene beauty is always more bitter than sweet,” he said with a bow.
“Hmm,” was Mercedes’s doubtful reply, but she smiled when he swept up her hand for a kiss. “May the goddess protect you on your journey.”
“We’ll see you soon,” Ingrid promised. “The Millennium Festival isn’t far off, even if we don’t meet before then.”
Mercedes nodded and then they all looked at Felix. He stared back at them, unsure of what to say. He was well aware that farewells were not one of his strengths. He cleared his throat and looked away, glaring down at the packed earth of the courtyard.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” he said at last, muttering the words in Mercedes’s general direction. “I…wouldn’t want to hear of anything happening to you.”
She reached out and touched his arm. “We won’t take any risks. And we’ll miss you, won’t we Annie?”
Annette’s ears burned red and a blush rushed up her neck to flood her cheeks as well. “Uhm,” she said, trying not to look directly at Felix, “y-yes. Yes. You all should do your best to stay safe too. I expect to see everyone at Garreg Mach, after all.”
Then she retreated to the carriage that waited for her and Mercedes. Ingrid and Sylvain began drifting away toward their waiting mounts, but Mercedes tightened her grip around Felix’s arm before he could escape.
“I’m sure she’d like a private goodbye,” she said, nodding her head toward the carriage. “And while you’re doing that, I’ll say one last prayer for our safe travels.”
He started to sputter a protest, but she was already walking away. How she managed to be so meddlesome and so serene at the same time was both baffling and infuriating. He’d have to remember to tell her so one day. He watched her retreat to a shaded bench, and then his gaze slid unwillingly to the carriage. A guard was lifting Annette gently inside, and she gave him a warm smile of thanks—and suddenly it hit Felix that it could be a very long time before he saw that smile again, or heard her voice, or caught a flash of the sun off of her brilliant hair.
He hadn’t even finished that thought before his feet began taking him in her direction, moving without conscious decision on his part. He didn’t fight it but let himself be drawn into her. It was a weakness he wouldn’t normally have tolerated, but in the wake of what they were facing, one he couldn’t help but indulge.
She jumped when he climbed into the carriage after her. “Fe-felix!” she gasped as he settled onto the seat across from hers. “What are you—?”
How was it just now occurring to him that he had no idea what to say? His cheeks heated as he held her gaze. “I just wanted to say…You should, ah…you should take good care of yourself. If I have to show up to this ridiculous reunion, so do you.”
“I’ll be there,” she promised.
“Don’t stop singing,” he added, glaring down at the fists he’d balled on his knees and cursing himself for not planning out something better to say. “I mean…if you love it, keep doing it. You’re good at it and…I…I want to hear new songs when I see you again.”
She shifted uncomfortably but he could hear the hesitant smile in her voice when she said, “Alright. I’ll try to come up with some good ones.”
He gathered his courage and forced himself to meet her eyes one last time. “I’ll see you soon, Annette.”
“See you soon, Felix,” she echoed, and just as he started to maneuver his way back out of the carriage, her hand flashed out and covered his. “Be safe.”
He nodded, unable to squeeze any more words through the tightness in his throat, and then followed Ingrid and Sylvain across the courtyard to his own waiting horse. Mercedes gave him a cheerful wave as he passed, and he watched as she joined Annette in the carriage. A moment later, it led the way out of the castle gates and onto the main road, and then he was forced to turn north while it carried on to the west.
Sylvain opened his mouth to make what was no doubt an asinine comment, but Ingrid smacked his arm and jerked her head toward their destination, and they started on their way to Gautier in silence.
Ethereal Moon, 1185
Felix did not allow himself to think that his journey to Garreg Mach was to see Annette again. He knew it was true, but he didn’t dare put it into words even in the privacy of his own mind. Instead, he thought about what a pain it was to travel all this way on bandit- and Imperial-infested roads, and how annoying it was to climb the switchback road up to the ruined village, and he did not imagine the warm smile of one pretty mage.
His heart started to pound as they closed in on the wreckage of the town. It was so loud that it took him a minute to realize that he could also hear the sounds of battle.
“Well,” Sylvain said with a sigh as he looked back at Felix and Ingrid, “I guess we were right about the bandits.”
Ingrid tightened her grip on her lance. “Do you think it’s the rest of the Lions?”
“They all promised to attend this fool reunion too,” Felix said. “They probably spooked whatever rats had gone to ground here.”
“Let’s go see,” Sylvain suggested, and with weapons ready, the three of them entered the husk of the village.
The shock of seeing the boar again, not to mention the professor, was only checked by the need to focus on the unfolding battle. They’d joined late and were on the far side of town. To compensate, the trio sought higher ground.
His eyes hadn’t played tricks on him. Dimitri was alive, and so was the professor. The sight of the prince scything his way through enemies like ripe wheat arrested him for a moment, but then something else caught his attention: a huge blast of wind, shaped into blades thanks to the efforts of a skilled mage, burst through the shells of the ruined buildings a few blocks away.
Annette was there, hair flying around her face as she worked her magic. Her feet weren’t touching the ground and the controlled fury on her face stirred his blood. She was in perfect health and was fighting with all the passion he remembered.
“They’re here!” Mercedes called to the professor, and Byleth turned to spot him, Ingrid and Sylvain as they fought their way toward the bandit leader in the center of the town. She waved and then made a gesture, indicating she wanted to conduct a pincer attack on the core group of enemies. And just like that, the Lions were fighting as a unit, each doing their best to meet the professor’s expectations and carry out her orders.
It was a route from that point forward.
Afterward, Felix found himself joining the group that had gathered around Dimitri and Byleth along with everyone else. But his eyes kept catching on Annette’s hair, longer than he remembered it and rolling past her shoulders in loose waves. He listened in as each of his former classmates expressed their shock and gratitude at Dimitri’s return from the dead, kept his mouth firmly shut as the rest of the group realized that Dedue was lost and Dimitri’s torment had only grown worse over the years. By the time everyone began making their way up the last of the road to the monastery, the euphoria had been replaced by something more melancholy.
He felt it too, of course he did. But he couldn’t deny how good it was to see Annette again. A warmth had bloomed in his chest when he realized how fully she had recovered, how much she had thrived even in these dark times. She and Mercedes were walking up the road together, gossiping quietly with Ashe, and Felix trailed them, content to just be nearby.
“And it’s good to see you too, Felix!” Ashe suddenly said, and he looked up to see the archer smiling brightly at him. “Annette was just telling me about how you rescued her.”
His eyes slid to hers.
“It sounds like it was quite an adventure. I wish I could have helped,” Ashe continued. Then he turned back to Mercedes. “Did you hear about Lorenz? He and his father are estranged, something about him fighting with his father about supporting Edelgard…” His words drifted off as he and Mercedes continued ahead, and suddenly Felix found himself walking beside Annette.
“You kept your promise,” she said, sounding vaguely surprised.
“I told you I’d keep my word about it,” he replied evenly. He gave her a sideways glance. “Were you worried I wouldn’t?”
“No!” she shot back, far too quickly. She flushed and dropped her eyes to the road in front of her. “Maybe. You aren’t the sentimental type.”
Felix felt his mouth twitch a little. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he replied, and saw her surprised look from the corner of his eyes.
“Oh?”
The urge to tease her was impossible to ignore. “You promised me new songs,” he said. “How could I stay away after that?”
Her steps immediately became stomps. “Do you even like the songs or are you just being evil?”
He stopped and after one more stomp for good measure, she did too. They were facing each other at last. Above them, Garreg Mach’s towers soared into the blue sky, beckoning them home.
“I like the songs, Annette,” he said. “But that’s not the only reason I wanted to see you again.”
“You wanted to see me again?” she murmured faintly.
He ran his sweaty palms down his sides and turned his gaze up to the monastery. “Yeah. I did.”
“Oh.” There was a pause. “I wanted to see you again too. A little.”
That warmth that had filled his chest now threatened to overwhelm his entire body. He began walking once more, slower this time. She fell into step beside him as he said, “Well…in that case I’m glad I rescued you.”
She smiled and nudged him with her elbow. “So am I,” she agreed, and they took their first steps into Garreg Mach together.
