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The whole palace was quiet.
News of the king's failing health has been the talk of the nation for months, but everyone expected him to get better: with the power of the Fell Star by his side, no challenge seemed insurmountable, be it a political or physical problem.
Byleth knew something was different the moment she woke up. Even at his age, Claude rose with the sun: a habit he carried from the war, 50 years ago. Instead, she felt the shallow rising and falling of his chest as he struggled to breathe, the feeble thrumming of his pulse against his wrist. She started wrapping her hands around his wrist 10 years ago, a steady assurance that he is there, still with her.
When she sat up to look at his face, she saw him already awake, green eyes alert, but unfocused somehow. Slipping.
"My love, I think... it's my turn to go into a long sleep. A never-ending sleep," he said, still some mischief in his voice.
Byleth nodded, gently brushing away his silver hair from his forehead. She traced his face carefully with the tips of her fingers, feeling her heart ache as she took in just how old he's gotten, how his handsome features succumbed to time.
"You're the only friend I need," she said, remembering the conversation they had on their 10th wedding anniversary.
"Yes," Claude croaked. "It was a good life, By. There's no one else I would've wanted to share my bed with. Even though you made me feel like a dirty old man about 20 years ago. Damn eternal youth."
Byleth bit back her retort, focusing instead on each breath he took, more labored than the last.
"Getting old feels scary," she murmured to his chest.
"Says the goddess who will never age," Claude teased. "I'm sorry I can't share that burden with you," he added seriously.
She shook her head, knowing the decision they made was right: Fódlan and Almyra would be better off with actual humans at the helm. When the time was right, Byleth would leave and live in the shadows.
"You're the only friend I need," she said. "In all ages, in whatever lifetime."
He hummed at that. "You'll never be alone, By. Not when I'm gone. Not ever."
Claude's last words to her were: "sweet dreams."
After she saw the light drain from his eyes, she started laughing. Hollow, mirthless laughter that hurt her chest. In her mind, she also heard Claude's laughter, the pure joy of having pulled off the perfect scheme, one last time. They rang and echoed across the palace as she left the grounds, ready to travel back to Zanado and melt into the shadows.
His laughter will haunt her as long as she lives, and so would millions of other tiny memories. He's never coming back, and they won't be enough. They never will be.