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Sylvain was alone. 

He swayed in the saddle as his horse took step after plodding step, even her head hung low. They were both going by feel alone. Sylvain blinked and his eyes almost did not open again. His stomach grumbled. He wanted to stop in the next town, enough wagon tracks on the road said that there was one nearby, but he would rather not repeat the last incident. 

He was still in Kingdom territory after all, or what had been the Kingdom. 

After last time, he was sure his father had placed a bounty on his head. Sylvain straightened his back and heard a few of his vertebrae pop. His hood slipped down and Sylvain reached to pull it back up. The Lance of Ruin thumped against his back. It was disguised by the rags Sylvain had tied around it before leaving Gautier territory. That was probably why his father put a bounty on him.

Heat rose in ribbons over the dusty road. Anything that was not within twenty feet of Sylvain was blurry. He blinked the exhaustion out of his eyes and wished he could just lay down to sleep, maybe even in a bed. He knew even that was too luxurious for the pace he had to keep. He had to reach the Empire as quickly as possible. He had to pledge himself to Edelgard. And after that....Sylvain was awfully good at thinking on his toes. At least, he thought so. 

Over the edge of a hill, Sylvain saw red banners unfurling in the wind. He spurred his horse forward, but she did not pick up the pace. Sylvain waited until they were closer to see that there were the eagles of the empire emblazoned on the banners. Sylvain could have laughed. His shoulders slumped and he leaned against his poor horse’s neck. He had somehow made it. 

A guard at the front of the camp raised his spear as Sylvain approached. “State your name and business!” his friend ordered. 

Sylvain smiled, the world spun around him, and he felt himself slip off of the saddle. Sylvain collapsed into the dust. The Empire soldiers circled around him. One called for a healer. 

When Sylvain spoke, he was not sure if the soldiers could hear him. He felt his lips move and air leave his throat, but even to his own ears, his words were quiet. “My name is Sylvain Jose Gautier. I surrender to Emperor Edelgard of the Adrestian Empire. I wish to be brought to her.” And then the world flooded with darkness. 

Sylvain had to escape his father. Lucien, the Margrave Gautier, was rubbing elbows with all the other elite patriarchs of the Kingdom as they dropped their children off at Garreg Mach. Since the Officer’s Academy was foremost a military school, Sylvain had to lug the personal belongings he was allowed to bring up to his room by himself. Sylvain’s parents promised to take him out to eat in the town below the monastery as soon as he was done unpacking. So, Sylvain took his time. He figured his father was busy brokering marriages for his cousins and wouldn’t miss him too bad. 

Sylvain looked at the uniform folded on his bed. It was black with gold piping. He ran his hand over it. It was well-made and not too flashy. He was relieved to pull off the clothes and cloak smattered with the Gautier colors and emblem. His father insisted he wore his finery into the Academy so that everyone knew who he was. Sylvain had heard whispers in the crowd as he rode in. Now, Sylvain was just another student at the Officer’s Academy. 

Sylvain figured his parents were expecting him, so he pulled his door firmly shut behind him and made his way down the stairs. Students and staff milled about the grounds. Sylvain rounded a corner and almost jumped out of his skin. 

A girl stood in front of him. She was still in her traveling clothes, covered with dust from the road, and her hair, shockingly white, was tied up in two buns on either side of her head. “Hello,” she said. 

“Uh, hi.” Sylvain said. 

The girl looked him up and down, and saw his uniform. “You’re in the Academy, too, right? Do you know where we need to check in?” she asked. 

“The dining hall,” Sylvain said, “I’d be happy to show you the way, if a lovely lady such as yourself would like company.” 

The girl rolled her eyes. “I’m sure I can find it on my own, thank you though.” 

“Okay then, but hey, I’ll see you around, maybe we’re in the same house. My name is Sylvain.” Sylvain said. He did not recognize the girl, but it did not alarm him too much. There were plenty of noble families in the Kingdom, surely one or two had a daughter his age he didn’t know about. Who knew, maybe she was one of the few commoners that had made it in this year. His father did say a few commoner girls were among his classmates, but Sylvain had mentally checked out of the lecture on how to not waste his time on them. 

The girl offered a diplomatic smile. “I doubt that.” she said. 

“Come on, what house are you in?” Sylvain asked. 

The girl turned around. “My name is Edelgard Von Hresvelg. Heir to the Adrestian Throne. And I am the leader of the Black Eagle House.” 

Sylvain’s mouth went dry. A triumphant look flickered in Edelgard’s eyes and then she went on her way to the dining hall. 

“So, did you meet anyone today?” Margrave Gautier asked. 

“I saw his highness and his vassal. I saw Ingrid.” Sylvain said. “I did meet someone from the Black Eagles.”

“Oh? Who?” the Margrave asked, taking a sip of his drink. 

“Princess Edelgard.” 

Lucien Gautier choked on his drink and his wife patted him on the back. “That’s wonderful Sylvain!” she chirped as she tried to resuscitate her husband. 

“Wonderful? It’s more than wonderful!” Lucien said between coughs. “Though not what I planned...this could be advantageous!”

“Advantageous?” Sylvain said, processing the word in his head. 

“Yes! I heard she is unbetrothed and it is rumored she has two crests!” 

“Gross, Dad, come on, I just met her.” Sylvain said. 

“Your father is just thinking ahead, dear.” Sylvain’s mother said. 

“How did your first meeting go?” Lucien demanded, pointing at Sylvain with his fork. “Goddess, I didn’t know she was well enough to attend the Academy.” 

“Good? I guess?” Sylvain said. 

“Good? It better be great! You best go and find her tomorrow and work your charm. Actually, don’t. Don’t be you, we all know how that will get.” 

Sylvain could not even protest. 

A realization hit Isobel Gautier. She clutched her husband’s arm. “Oh, Lucien! You’d send him away to marry a foreign Emperor?” 

Goddess help me. Sylvain took a long sip from the ale in front of him. 

“You’re right. You’re right. If he is the consort of a foreign realm, who will take over the title of Margrave, none of his cousins bear a crest...Sylvain!”

“Yes?”

“Don’t talk to this girl.”

“Okay.”

“Actually. Do talk to her. A little. Don’t burn your bridges.”

Sylvain sighed and took another sip of his drink. “Yes, Dad.”

“Enter.” 

The doors swung open and sat atop her throne was Edelgard. Her horned crown shining and her dress glowed a deep, blood red in what little light filtered in through the stained glass. Of course, her hair and skin were pale as bone. She looked down at Sylvain and the rest of her courtiers, her expression blank. 

Hubert stood before her. His hands behind his back, and his one yellow eye gleaming and trained on Sylvain. The guards pushed Sylvain forward and waited for their emperor's next word: take him away, release him, kill him, or any combination of those. 

Edelgard raised an eyebrow and waved Sylvain forward. Closer, Sylvain saw her expression was not blank. It was a mask over violently annoyed. Sylvain swallowed and bowed his head. 

“I am Sylvain Jose Gautier. Son and heir of Lucien Gautier. Wielder of the Lance of Ruin.” Sylvain paused. Somewhere a courtier coughed. “I have come to pledge my fealty to you, Emperor Edelgard.” 

Whispers rose through the room. Sylvain forced a charming smile. 

“How do we know you’re not a spy?” Hubert growled. 

“You don’t.” Sylvain said. He raised his hands in surrender, but he swore the daggers Hubert sent with his gaze were real. 

Edelgard raised a hand. “Leave,” 

The courtiers and guards filed out of the room, shooting glances at Sylvain. He heard choice words in low voices: “ Traitor .” “ Spy .” “ Whore .” “ Oathbreaker .” 

Sylvain pretended to be aloof, but he could not muster up the nerve to look the members of Edelgard’s court in the eye. Even the guards took their leave. They bowed to their emperor, rested the Lance of Ruin on the ground besides its owner and backed out of the stone hall. Sylvain could reach the Lance, and some part of him wasn’t surprised it was left with him. Edelgard had Amyr next to her and Hubert had been the second quickest magic user at Garreg Mach. Even if this was a suicide mission, it would have been just that: suicide. And then the Imperial Armory would still be left with a useless hunk of metal in the shape of a spear. 

Edelgard and Hubert were silent. Sylvain cleared his throat. “Look, I know I’m not the most honorable guy, but you know I would not just leave my friends, family, and country behind unless I meant it. My father would not let his only heir, or more importantly his family weapon, be at risk of being captured by the enemy.” 

Edelgard’s eyes narrowed. “Then why are you here?” 

“You want a world without crests. So do I.” Sylvain said. “My lance is yours.” 

Edelgard looked like she had tasted something bitter. She rose from her throne. “Very well.” she said. “I have been piecing together an elite strike force of trusted and skilled allies. If what I saw of you at the Academy still holds true, and paired with your knowledge of the former Kingdom, then you shall make a fine addition to the team.”

“Your majesty-” Hubert objected. 

“He will be strategically helpful.” Edelgard said, her eyes boring into Hubert. “Will he not?” 

Hubert bowed. “Of course he will.” he said, his voice grating. “My lady.” 

Edelgard looked down on Sylvain. “Then welcome to the Black Eagle Strike Force.”  She stepped off her dias and strode past Sylvain. “You will recognize the others from our time at the Academy. Our first objective shall be the Great Bridge of Myrdin. Prepare yourself accordingly.” 

Without another word, Edelgard disappeared into her private rooms and Sylvain blinked at Hubert. He was still woozy from his collapse on the road and he offered Hubert a smile. “It looks like we’re teammates! So, am I bunking with you?”

Hubert glared. “This is most definitely a mistake.” he muttered to himself.

Sylvain had been overly polite to Edelgard. His father’s words rang in his ears every time he saw her. Don’t be you. Every time he was in close proximity to her, he minded his titles and manners. Her goon, a pale, floppy-haired boy named Hubert, scoffed every time Sylvain came around. That was, of course, everytime they were somehow close proximity to each other. 

Sylvain wanted to avoid Edelgard. He wanted to avoid any schemes of marriage his father could cook up between him and the would-be Emperor. He just wanted to do school. He wanted to stay up late doing annoying homework, shoe some horses, and oil lances with friends not potential spouses. When Professors Byleth and Manuela had them do group assignments, Sylvain grabbed anyone he could, Felix, Ingrid, Ashe, even Dorothea one time, before Edelgard’s eyes could settle on him.  

“Don’t you want to partner with me?” Edelgard asked one day for a faith assignment. Any one other than Hubert was probably a safe bet. 

“Sorry, your highness, can’t! I’m already partnered with, uh, Mercedes!” Sylvain said with a half bow. 

“We’re partners?” Mercedes said. Sylvain ignored her. 

Edelgard narrowed her eyes. “You were more than willing to talk to me the first day-”

Sylvain wheeled around and joined Mercedes at the table she was sitting at. Edelard left him alone. 

“Sylvain, I’d love to have you as my partner, but what was that about?” Mercedes asked. 

“What was what?” 

Mercedes shot him a look. “You and Edelgard, silly.”

“Nothing.” Sylvain chose to say. “It’s nothing. Let’s start with this assignment, shall we?”

Mercedes shook her head and opened her text book. Sylvain ignored the way Edelgard was glaring at him. It didn’t get better throughout the lesson, or even the week. It was just as bad when the classes were brought together again at the training grounds. The training hall was not built for two classes. Sylvain bumped into Edelgard at the weapons rack. He counted himself lucky it took until halfway through his spar with Dimitri and Felix before he was close enough to her to have a conversation. 

“What’s the hold up, Sylvain?” Felix called. 

“Just a second!” Sylvain called back. He faced Edelgard. “Excuse me.” Sylvain said. 

Edelgard raised an eyebrow. Sylvain laughed off his nerves and tried to step around her. Edelgard took a step to the side as well. 

“Please, your highness, excuse me.” Sylvain said. 

“You’re being awfully polite.” Edelgard said. 

“Well, you’re a princess. I’m the son of a margrave.” Sylvain stated. Edelgard’s look was withering. “I hope we didn’t get off on the wrong foot.”

“Why? Because you want to marry me, Sylvain Gautier?” he could almost hear the phrase: ‘your reputation precedes you.’

“No. Well that’s what my father wants me to do, and I don't like lying to him even if I don’t like doing what he commands me to do.” Sylvain said. 

“So why the formalities?” Edelgard asked.

“Because as custom dictates I should show respect to you. You are above me.” Sylvain said. He bowed his head. “Your highness.” 

Edelgard mulled over his words and bid him to stand. “In Adrestia, a princess is styled as ‘Lady’, not ‘your highness’ like in the Kingdom.” she said. “Anyway, here at the Academy, we are all equal as students.” 

“Right. Equal. Got it.” Sylvain said. “In that case, please move. I need to get to the weapons.” 

Edelgard stepped aside just as Dimitri joined in Felix’s calls for Sylvain to come back. Sylvain took hold of what he needed, Edelgard did, too, and she began to walk back to her group. 

“It’s because I don’t want to marry you.” Sylvain blurted. 

“I beg your pardon?” Edelgard asked. 

Sylvain sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. My dad freaked out when I told him I met you, at once praising me for already talking to you, and wringing my neck because of our unequal positions and all that entails. So, yeah, I have a little whiplash whenever I’m around you.”

“And you don’t want to marry me because of who I am?” Edelgard asked, inspecting the weapons in her hands. 

“I’d at least like to be friends first.” 

Edelgard held out a hand. “We can be acquaintances for now.”

Sylvain took her hand in his. “I can work my way up from that.”  

Edelgard slammed her fists against the table. A cry tore through her throat as she shoved papers and unlit candles onto the floor; some landed with a crash and others floated down like feathers. Sylvain stood at the door, his back straight and his arms tucked behind him. 

They had been rather successful since he joined up. Thanks to the Black Eagle Strike Force, their route to the bridge was secure and diplomacy was underway with the Gloucsters, but now Claude was putting up a fight, dragging the people of his Alliance in for more bloodshed. Every move made by their smaller forces was taken out, diverted, lost. 

“If this does not let up, we will have no choice but to change our plans and go to Deirdru after taking the Bridge. Hundreds will be lost. Months will be wasted.” Edelgard spat. “I hate this. I hate battle. I hate this war. I hate my-” but she cut herself off. “Sorry.” Edelgard said, diverting her eyes from Sylvain. “It’s unbecoming for one of my personal guard to see me in such a state.” 

Sylvain shifted. “I don’t hate you.” he said. He had not meant to say it aloud, but it was too late. The sentence hung in the air between the two of them.

“I never-” Edelgard blinked and looked away. “Yes you do.” 

It was said so simply. Like the sky was blue, the grass was green, crests were bad. Sylvain took a step back. “ Edelgard . What-”

“I gave you an opportunity to join me. Twice .” Edelgard said. “For you to be at my side since the start of all this. We were so much alike…” 

“We still are.” 

Edelgard shook her head.“Why are you here, Sylvain?” she asked. 

“I believe in you.” He said. “This world ruled by crests, it cannot go on. And you’re the only person with the will and the power to stop it. I want to see the world you create.” 

Edelgard looked up and her eyes glazed over. She laughed to herself. “I forgot you were flirt.”

“I still am.” Sylvain said. “Or at least, I hope I still have the charm.” He took a step towards his emperor. “But that wasn’t a flirt. I was serious.”

Edelgard looked away. “Why...why did you join me now, Sylvain? What took you so long?” This was not an Emperor demanding something from a subject. This was Edelgard, asking something of a friend who had let her down. 

“I’m sorry.” Sylvain said. “Words are empty. I hope my actions now will make up for it...I thought honor meant serving my family, my country...what it means to me now is...it means to be true to my heart. And my heart says to come to you.” 

Edelgard’s words came out in a breath. “Leave me,” she ordered. 

Sylvain did not want to. He bowed to his Emperor and departed from the room. 

Sylvain had probably broken a poor girl’s heart. She may have broken his nose. It was a fair trade. He sat on the steps leading up to the dining hall holding a rag with chips of ice in it to the bridge of his nose. He winced and readjusted his wet and numb fingers over the bundle on his face. He figured the others would say he deserved it. 

“ You lead her on .” he could practically hear his princeliness say. 

Annette and Ingrid would gang up on him. “You called her horrible, she just wanted to go to dinner with you!” 

It wasn’t just dinner. It was never just dinner. 

It was late, and he hoped no one would see him in the state he was in. He would rather have all the lectures in the morning. 

“Is that you Sylvain?” a voice from out in the dark asked. 

Sylvain didn’t even know who it was. “Yeah, it’s me,” he said nonetheless. 

Out of the corner of his cracked open eye, Edelgard walked around the corner. She had a cape tied around her shoulders, and she was in her night clothes. Her eyes widened when she saw the state Sylvain was in. 

“Out for a midnight stroll?” he asked. It hurt to grin. 

“I could say the same of you.” Edelgard said. “Who did this to you? At this hour?”

Sylvain shrugged. “A date.” 

Edelgard’s eyes narrowed. “I see.” her tone was like venom. “And what did little, old you do to provoke such a vicious attack?”

He was beyond caring. An icy trickle of water traveled down his wrist and soaking into his shirt sleeve. “You really want to know?” he sighed. 

“You’ve piqued my curiosity.”

Sylvain sighed. “I wouldn’t sleep with her.” Edelgard faltered. “Yeah. I’d be shocked to hear it, too.” Sylvain sucked in a breath as he drew the ice pack away for only a second before placing it back on. 

“I’m sorry, I thought-”

“That I sleep with someone on the first date? That at any given time, I can’t wait to get a girl undressed? That I flirt with anything with a pulse?” Sylvain asked. Edelgard shot him a look. “Okay, that last one is absolutely true, but the other ones, no. Not at all.” 

“Then why is all I hear about you is that?” Edelgard asked.

“I guess it’s partially my fault.” Sylvain said. “I’m a flirt. I like to have people around me. Especially beautiful girls-”

“Get to your point, Sylvain, before I lose my curiosity.” 

“Sorry. And...I do do stuff with them. I kiss. I let them kiss me. I do stuff, you know…” Sylain looked sheepishly at the princess of Adrestia. 

“But you don’t... sleep with them.” she said slowly. 

Sylvain pointed at Edelgard with his ice pack. “Bingo.”

“Why’s that?” Sylvain and Edelgard’s eyes met and her face flushed red. “I’m sorry, that’s too personal. I shouldn’t-”

Sylvain waved her off. “No. It’s okay. Really. We’ve gotten to know each other well in the past ten minutes.” He gestured next to him and Edelgard took a seat on the steps. She smoothed out her cape and did not press him for an answer. “I’m scared of kids.” Sylvain said. “ Having kids.” 

Edelgard looked up. “ Oh ,” she said, like the breath was knocked out of her. “I didn’t think you’d be so...sensible.” 

“This isn’t out of sensibility. I’m not some kid, and I belong to an ancient, influential, and wealthy family from the Kingdom. I can take care of dozens of bastards if I wanted to.” Sylvain said. 

“But?”

“But I am a knight and a man of some honor. I’d see that the mother was cared for too, for the rest of her days.” Sylvain said. His eyes stung and watered, he chalked it up to his nose. “I don’t want some kid of mine to be a free meal ticket for someone else. No one seems to agree with me though.” Edelgard was silent. “You want to know what that girl I went out with tonight said?”

Edelgard cast her gaze away. She held her cloak in a white-knuckle grip. “What did she say?” 

“I was giving her the benefit of the doubt, I thought she actually might have wanted to be with me.” Sylvain said. “And I said we shouldn’t...continue our activities because I didn’t want one thing to lead to another. And she says to me: ‘Why? Don’t you want your line to continue? Don’t you want your Crest to live on?’” Sylvain’s stomach rolled at the memory. “Anyway, she started listing her pedigree, how a great-grandmother had a minor crest of whatever, how she was one of ten and an aunt had six children or something...I stopped listening. I called her horrible and left. I’ll probably be the talk of the town tomorrow after she goes and cries to her friends about what I said to her.”

“Don’t you want to tell your side?” Edelgard asked. 

“What good would it do? It’s happened enough times and I’ve gone far enough with enough girls that it just fits the idea people have of me.” Sylvain said. “Some lusty, young man who only wants to bed pretty girls for a night or two and leaves them broken-hearted.” 

“I shouldn’t have made assumptions.” Edelgard said, looking at her feet. “Thank you for correcting me.” 

Sylvain shrugged. “Thanks for listening to my sob story.” Sylvain adjusted the ice and winced again. 

Edelgard turned to him. “Allow me.” Edelgard said, and she raised a hand. 

Sylvain lowered the ice pack and he half expected Edelgard to punch him where his face was turning purple. Instead, light blue magic flowed out of her hand and onto his nose. Sylvain sighed as the throbbing pain subsided and his breaths became easier. When he opened his eyes, Edelgard was right there next to him, poised to continue her healing. 

“I thought you hated magic.” Sylvain said. 

“Well, I, uh,” Edelgard tried. 

Sylvain laughed. “It’s okay, I hate it, too. Useful. Very useful. But so annoying and technical.”  

Edelgard smiled back and leaned against the steps. They sat listening to the frogs and owls of the monastery, the occasional bark of a dog or yowl of a cat rose from far away. The sky was mostly clear, and only a few wispy clouds dancing on the breeze dared to block the sparkling of the stars. The thrum of magic still hung in the air. 

“You know magic?” Edelgard asked. 

“Mostly reason, or else I would’ve healed myself.” Sylvain said. “Margrave Gautier wasn’t too keen on it. ‘We are Gautier men, we use weapons,’ he would say.” 

Edelgard looked out over the pond. “Is that why I’ve never seen you practice magic before?” 

“Yeah.” Sylvain said. He tossed the ice into the fishing pond and shook out the rag. “I wanted to be a Dark Knight as a kid.”

“You can still be one!” Edelgard protested. 

“Nope. Because of my Crest I have to be a Great Knight.” Sylvain said. 

Edelgard made a gagging noise. “It’s so unfair.” she said. 

“It really is.” Sylvain said. “But there’s nothing to be done.” He stood and tucked the rag into his pocket. “Thanks for the heal, Edelgard, I’ll see you around. Don’t stay up too late.” 

He started to walk towards the dormitories when Edelgard called after him. “What if there was something we could do.” Sylvain turned and there was Edelgard standing with her cloak tied around her night clothes, stray white hairs floating in the breeze, and her eyes alight with flames. 

Sylvain laughed a little. “You’d have to change the whole damn system.” 

“It can be done.” Edelgard said. “When I am Emperor, I’ll-”

Sylvain held up a hand. “Edelgard. Stop. Please.” he said. Edelgard snapped her jaw shut, but she looked like she was going to tear his throat out. Maybe she would heal that for him, too. “Thank you, for being nice to me. Really. And...thank you for giving me something to hope for, but I gave up childish dreams like that a long time ago.”

“Sylvain-”

“Good night, Edelgard.”  

The night of the ball should have been a great night for Sylvain. There was free alcohol, delicious finger food, and beautiful outfits on even more beautiful girls. Yet, there Sylvain stood as a wallflower. Girls stole glances at him and whispered to their friends behind their silken gloved hands before clutching onto each other and scurrying away back to whatever hole they crawled out of. Boys just shook their heads at him. Even Seteth looked at him woefully. 

“I’m going to dance with all the ladies, so they at least have one good dance of the night before being given over to you clowns.” Sylvain had said at lunch one day to the other Lions. 

“I am a very good dancer! The professor has been helping me!” Dimitri objected. 

Sylvain held back a joke about what other private lessons Professor Byleth must have been giving him. Then Ferdinand Von goddess damned Aegir poked his head into their discussion. 

“Oh please, you’re not gentlemanly enough to dance with even one lady.” Ferdinand said to Sylvain. 

“What, and you are?” Sylvain shot back. 

He heard Hubert snicker from the Black Eagles table. Ferdinand gasped like he was genuinely offended, and knowing Ferdinand he was. 

“Sylvain, you have no decorum! Anyone who dances with you...no one would be lowly enough to dance with you!”

The Blue Lions had laughed. Some of the Golden Deer and Black Eagles, too. Even Dimitri and Dedue cracked a grin. The professor even looked amused. It seemed that Ferdinand’s prediction had borne fruit. Sylvain downed a second flute of champagne and scuffed his shoe on the floor as he watched Dimitri take the hand of their professor, the poor prince was trembling. Ferdinand had politely asked Dorothea for a dance and she unfortunately obliged him. Sylvain rolled his eyes. At least the only other of his father’s sons Sylvain had known about had been Miklan. He at least had that on Ferdinand. Or so he kept telling himself. 

Sylvain put the empty glass on the nearest table, shoved his hands into his pockets, and sulked his way out into the courtyard as a volta began to play. The night air was blessedly cool compared to the great hall and he took a deep breath. Stupid Ferdinand. Stupid everyone. Sylvain made his way to the Goddess Tower; he may as well make fun of people on their way to test urban legends. 

Sylvain found a secluded corner on the first floor of the tower, and ducked into the shadows. People in love would be too giddy to see him. So, Sylvain waited. A few students came by, but did not dare to go up the tower. They shared chaste kisses before getting too swept up in it all and having to walk away. Sylvain rolled his eyes. The night was growing long, and stars bright as silver were dusted across the sky. Sylvain let his head rest back against the wall and his eyes slipped closed. 

“Getting some satisfaction by being a creep?” a sharp voice asked. 

Sylvain’s eyes snapped open, and there standing above him was Edelgard. “Or I could’ve been waiting for you.” Edelgard scoffed and folded her arms. “We have to stop meeting each other like this, Princess.”

“Stop always being in such a sorry state and then maybe we can come to an agreement.”

Sylvain sighed. What was there to argue? He pushed himself up and stretched his arms over his head, letting his spine pop. “So, what brought you out here?”

“Taking a walk, the ball can be...overwhelming.” Edelgard said. “I would say the same of you, but it didn’t look like you did much dancing.”

Sylvain groaned. “Don’t remind me.” Edelgard squared her shoulders and held out her hands. “What’re you doing?” he asked.

“Well, it would not do for someone like yourself to not have at least one dance on the night of the ball.” Edelgard said matter-of-factly. “Plus, we can both stick it to Ferdinand.” 

A smile quirked on the edges of Sylvain’s lips. “Okay, then,” he bowed, “May I have this dance?”

“You may.” Edelgard said. 

Sylvain put one hand on Edelgard’s waist and took up her one hand in his other. She rested a hand on his shoulder. Music from the ball floated up along the cold night wind. It was a slow love ballad, mournful and everlasting. “I don’t think I know a dance for this one.” Sylvain admitted. 

“Then we’ll make one up.” Edelgard said. 

Sylvain smiled, and Edelgard cracked into a grin. Step by step, they moved across the floor of the Goddess Tower. Sylvain spun Edelgard and her laugh rang out. It shocked Sylvain at first. He didn’t know Edelgard could laugh. It shocked Sylvian that he would do a lot of things to hear it again. Sylvain twirled her a second time to do just that. Edelgard crashed into Sylvain, but instead of pulling away and continuing their unofficial waltz, she only pulled Sylvain in closer. Sylvain’s heart leapt into his throat; he lowered his head so that his lips ghosted over Edelgard’s shoulder. He let his eyes slip closed. The world spun around him and the only constant was Edelgard, and found he did not mind that. 

“They say when a boy and a girl come up here and make a wish that it comes true. You have a wish, Princess?” Sylvain teased. 

“Join the Black Eagles.” Edelgard said. 

Sylvain pulled away. “Excuse me?”

She stared up at him, unblinking. She picked at one of her nails. “We don’t know what’s to happen in the coming moons. I would feel better if you were with us.” 

Something bright and wonderful dawned on Sylvain. “Aw, you like me.” 

Edelgard’s eyes widened. “I did not say such a thing!” Sylvain flashed her a shit-eating grin and Edelgard smacked his arm. “Don’t make me rescind the invitation! I value your skills and your input!”

“Right, my input.” Sylvain said. He released Edelgard and backed away. He could not meet her gaze. 

“Are you sure?” Edelgard asked. “The invitation will remain open as long as we are here.” 

“Can I offer you an invitation in return? A wish even?” Sylvain asked. He took a step closer to Edelgard. 

“Depends on what it is…” Edelgard’s eyes darted to his mouth. 

Sylvain took another step closer. Edelgard rested her hand on his arm, but did nothing else. Sylvain leaned in and kissed Edelgard. It was feather-light and barely there, yet her lips were soft and she responded in kind, more forceful than Sylvain. Sylvain rested his hand on Edelgard’s hip and dared to kiss her again before pulling away. 

Edelgard sucked in a breath and rested her forehead against Sylvain’s cheek. “You’re drunk.” Edelgard said a little too loudly, like it was an announcement. 

He had never felt more sober in his entire life. “I’m not.”

“It’s what we will say when people ask.” Edelgard said, averting her gaze. There was a giggle from behind a corner and Sylvain’s stomach dropped.  “I-I’m sorry, Sylvain. I have to go. They’re probably looking for me.” Edelgard said. She looked back once at Sylvain and then she was gone. 

Sylvain leaned against the cool stone railing. Edelgard had sounded so worried when she asked him to join the Black Eagles, and he did not know why that would be. He should have made his wish more specific. 

Sylvain heard a scream of pain. He looked over and saw Edelgard backed into a corner of the river-smoothed brick of the bridge. Her arm hung limp at her side, and she struggled to catch her breath. Aymr was too far out of her grasp. The Alliance soldier towered over her, his sword in hand. Sylvain debated throwing his Lance but knew it wouldn’t get far enough. So, Sylvain reared his horse forward with a sharp command, and charged. 

The soldier turned at the sound of hooves. His eyes widened under his visor. He snapped out of it, and moved into a stance to cut at Sylvain’s horse’s ankles. Sylvain reached out with his Lance. With a flourish, the Alliance soldier knocked the Lance of Ruin out of his hand. Before, the Alliance soldier could take pride in his victory, and before Sylvain could even think about doing it, he punched his hand forward. “ Nosferatu !” 

The Alliance soldier gasped and buckled. Sylvain felt his body absorb energy like he just drank a vulnerary. He slowed his horse to stop and turned her around. He wiped the sweat off his brow as Edelgard looked up at him, her eyes round as saucers.  

“You used reason?” Edelgard asked, as if she couldn’t believe it. 

“Yeah, but it sucked.” Sylvain said. “And technically, it’s taught as faith, but some scholars argue-” 

“Yes, but you used it.” Edelgard said. She picked up Aymr and it hummed in her grasp. “When did you….?” A cheer rose up from the Imperial soldiers. She turned. Her concern wiped from her face. “Thank you, Sylvain. Now, let’s return to our troops, I believe we may have just captured Myrdin.” 

I did it because you told me I could. Sylvain thought. He kept it to himself. He spurred his horse forward to follow his Emperor. 

Edelgard was the Flame Emperor. Edelgard was the one making their lives a living hell since school started; if Dimitri was to be believed it had been even longer. Sylvain could not shake what he saw in the Holy Tomb out of his head. The Flame Emperor’s mask slipping off to reveal a shocked Edelgard. Dimitri’s shoulders going limp and then his manic laugh bubbling up and exploding like a geyser. Sylvain had never seen the prince express so much emotion since they were children. And Edelgard had been her usual steadfast self. 

She had insisted she was not responsible for anything Dimitri accused her of, namely the Tragedy of Duscur. Dimitri didn’t care. He slaughtered her men. He would have slaughtered her too if Hubert had not warped her away. 

“I knew he was carrying the burdens of the massacre, but to go off like that…'' Sylvain wondered aloud. The other Blue Lions looked up from their seats in their classroom. Dimitri had long retired to his room, shuffling along with sunken eyes. “There’s got to be more to this than we know. Especially with Edelgard.”

“She is a coward and a traitor.” Dedue gritted out. 

“She would have been the same age as Dimitri at the time of the Tragedy. I don’t know about you, but I wasn’t plotting mass murder as a teenager.” Sylvain said. 

“That’s enough, Sylvain.” Professor Byleth said. Sylvain felt like he had been smacked in the back of his head. “We are all tired and emotional from today. We should get some rest.”

Sylvain and the other Lions rose from their seats and made their way back to their rooms. Sylvain pulled his door closed behind him and tried to ignore the sound of his prince’s dry-heaving next door. They were going to have to fight Edelgard and therefore the Empire. He knew it. Dimitri would drag them all with him for his revenge. Sylvain, as his knight, would have to follow him to hell and back. 

Sylvain wasn’t sure if Edelgard was guilty.

An owl pecked at Sylvain’s window. Sylvain cracked it open and the bird shoved its foot in. Sylvain took the letter and before he could untie it, it hooted at him, waiting for an answer. Sylvain unfurled it, it was a scrap of paper really, on it scrawled in perfect handwriting were five words: ‘the invitation is always open’. Sylvain crumbled the paper in his hand and shooed the bird away. 

He plopped down on his bed and buried his face in his hands. I’m sorry, Edelgard .

Before life as he knew it took a nose dive, Sylvain saw Edelgard. 

Her army swarmed the monastery like ants on a hill. Sylvain’s horse, which he only got after a hasty promotion to knight, screamed underneath him as some kind of demonic beast roared far away. Sylvain’s head whipped around- looking for an enemy, looking for an ally; Hell, looking for something to help with the arrow biting into the meat of his shoulder. His eye caught a familiar, pale figure. Like a reaper herself, her red armor cascading down her body. 

She was wearing armor fit for her new title as Emperor and she bore Amyr; it glowed fouly red. Her hair was still in ribbons. Sylvain was sure the arrow buried in the shoulder of his armor was lightly poisoned. Their eyes locked across the battlefield. Embers fell like rain around them and smoke wrapped its tendrils around their forms. 

Sylvain opened his mouth to say something, but the heat of the fires scorched his tongue. Edelgard blinked once. Then turned away. Ignoring him, as if he were nothing. 

Sylvain sat at a corner table in the kitchens. The staff had long since departed to go about their outdoor chores between meals. Sylvain, of course, had been late and had to scrounge for his mug of ale and heel of bread, butter, and dry cheese he was dining on. The door creaked and Sylvain was about to greet one of the scullery maids when Edelgard strode in. 

“Your Majesty-” Sylvain said, trying not to choke on his food. 

Edelgard stepped up to the side of his table and took a breath. “I am going to need you for the battles to come. After we take the Alliance we will be in the Kingdom. Your home.” she said. She let the words mull in the air. “Swear to me,” Edelgard said.  

“Anything.”

“No, you nit, you have to listen to what it is first!” Edelgard said. Sylvain put his mug of ale down and nodded to Edelgard. “Kneel.” she ordered. Sylvain did, like he did when he won his knightly lance. “Swear your loyalty to me. Swear that you will never leave me. That you will never leave my side. Until all of this is over.”

“I do so promise and swear.” he said. “I will never leave your side, so help me goddess.” 

A smile twitched on Edelgard’s lips. “Thank you.” she whispered. She reached out and bid Sylvain to stand. He kissed her hand and rose to her level. “Rise, Sylvain, my steadfast sword.” 

Sylvain had to be the only one in the Imperial Palace. Everyone else was out celebrating the last victory over the Alliance or getting ready for the next battle in the Kingdom. Since he was on no council, Sylvain was in the palace’s training hall. There were far more dummies intended for magic practice than there were in the steel and sword country of the Kingdom. He debated trying his hand at it eventually. Instead, Sylvain thrust his Lance of Ruin forward, he felt his crest activate like electricity coursing in his body. The Lance hummed in response and shuddered. 

The door to the training hall opened. Sylvain glanced over his shoulder and saw Edelgard step in. 

“Oh, hey, Edelgard.” he said. 

She said nothing in response. Sylvain buried the Lance of Ruin into the dummy’s chest and ripped it out, fluff flew in the air along with the sparks from his Crest of Gautier glowing above his head. When Edelgard continued to say nothing, Sylvain turned. 

“Can I tell you something?” Edelgard asked. Her voice was small. 

Sylvain felt his heart leap into his throat. He put his lance aside. “Sure.” 

Edelgard bit her lip. She stared at his crest, slowly fading into the wind. “I-” Edelgard sighed. “I did not think I would feel something so trivial being upset when I told you this.” 

Edelgard held up her hand and peeled her glove off. Underneath, her hand was lacerated; it looked like someone had torn Edelgard to shreds and barely stitched her back together. The scars were pink on her white body and criss-crossed around her hand. Edelgard pushed the sleeve on her dress up, and Sylvain saw the scars traveled up her arm, they even got worse. 

“ What- ?” Sylvain breathed. He couldn’t even finish his thought. There was nothing to finish the thought with. 

The air above Edelgard’s hand crackled and glowed. A Crest of Seiros appeared. Sylvain knew she had that crest, expected it even; it was the crest of the House of Hresvelg. Then the lines blurred and morphed, turning into a crest Sylvain had not seen before, except for in Professor Byleth. 

“ You have two?! ” 

Edelgard nodded and lowered her hand, letting her crests disappear. She ripped her sleeve back down and fought with her glove to shove it back on. 

“But- how ?!” Sylvain asked. “That’s not possible! I’ve never heard of- You can’t have two crests .” 

“ Well, I do. ” Edelgard said. 

“How?” Sylvain asked again. 

“They were forced on me.” 

Sylvain balked. 

“When I was a child, my father made a bargain with my uncle and his allies...the royal family needed more power. They needed a child with a crest. And so, all of my siblings and I were taken one day to a lab underground. We were experimented on. Those who didn’t die from the procedures themselves went mad and then died. I was the only one left.” Edelgard said. 

“I always thought there was an accident involving the Imperial family...Edelgard, I’m sorry-”

“You couldn’t have known.” Edelgard wrapped her arms around herself. “It gets worse. My procedures were a success. I came out with the hopes of Adrestia, two crests and all their power, in exchange, my body is put under a massive strain. I am going to die young.” 

Sylvain felt like the wind was knocked out of him. “How young?” 

Edelgard shrugged. “Young enough.” 

Sylvain set his jaw and ran his fingers through his hair. “Who knows?” he asked. 

“My father, the men who did this to me, Hubert, and now you.” 

“We’ll kill them.”

Edelgard stepped back. “Sylvain-”

“We will. I swear on my life.” 

“They are far more powerful than either of us.”

“So? You’re conquering Fódlan and destroying the crest system and the church. We are already doing a lot more than killing a room full of cowardly old men.” Sylvain said. “You know what. We’re going to get rid of your crests, too.”

Now, Edelgard laughed. “That’s impossible.”

“Improbable. Nothing is impossible.” Sylvain insisted. “I’m not going to lose you to crests. You’re not going to lose you to crests.” 

“Where would we even begin?” Edelgard asked, looking at the scars on her hands. 

“I don’t know. Linhardt’s a crest scholar, right? We could ask him if he knows anything. And when we catch these people who made you the Flame Emperor, we can always ask them. And if they don’t want to talk, well, there’s other ways.” Sylvain said. He had been talking so fast and pacing, that he did not realize Edelgard had remained frozen in her spot. “What is it?” Sylvain asked. 

“Do you remember when we were younger, the night I fixed your nose?” Edelgard said. 

“I do,” Sylvain said. 

“And I told you we could fix the world?” Sylvain nodded. “Well, how you felt then, is how I feel now.” 

“What are you going to do when this is all over?” Sylvain asked one day. The windows in the Emperor’s study were thrown open, and fat bees bumbled along on the lazy, summer breeze.  

“After I defeat the church and its supporters, I’m going to rework the bureaucracy of Fódlan from the ground up.” Edelgard said. 

“And after that?” 

“After that?” Edelgard asked as if it were the first time she heard the words. 

“Yeah, say everything goes well-”

“ And it will .”

“ And it will.” Sylvain said. Pleased with the addition, Edelgard went back to her paperwork.“We defeat the Church, crests are no longer a factor in any part of life, from inheritance to military commision, there’s no one left to fight, what will you do then? Surely, you’ve thought of it.”

Edelgard sighed quickly through her nose. “I’ve never had the luxury.”

“ Oh, come on .” Sylvain whined. 

“You’ve clearly given it some thought, please, enlighten me about what you’ll do.” 

Sylvain huffed. “I think I’d go to a town or city where no one knows who I am, probably in the southern Alliance. I heard the weather there is beautiful all year long. I’ll kick back and enjoy life for a little bit. Maybe I’ll be a mercenary, find some people who won’t care about who I am and just...be myself.” He paused. Edelgard had stopped her work, but she still kept her focus down on it as if she would return to it at any moment. “But you and I will probably depose my father and someone will have to take over the Gautier lands, and you’ll probably give it to me in return for my oh so loyal service. If that’s the case I’ll gladly accept and become a benevolent lord.”

“I’m sure the people of your land will love that.” Edelgard said. 

“Oh, we don’t have many people in Gautier,” Sylvain said, leaning back into his chair. 

“You don’t?”

“No. We’re mostly a buffer state between the rest of the Kingdom and Sreng.” Sylvain said. “What we do have is lots of land. Mountains. Meadows. Forests. Rivers. People come from all over Fódlan to hunt and ‘take in nature’, when there isn’t border disputes, of course.” 

“I see.” said Edelgard. 

“You should see it.” Sylvain said. “You’ll love it. It’s harsh land, but it's pretty. You’ll want to paint it.”

Edelgard’s gaze shot up and Sylvain winked. Edelgard blinked and cleared her throat. “Yes. Maybe I will like to paint it one day.”

Sylvain collapsed onto the floor of his tent. 

Sylvain couldn’t breathe. He recalled every rudimentary part of his basic faith training. He had to do it to learn reason. A requirement from Professor Byleth. Professor Byleth. He couldn’t even think of her. Sylvain couldn’t breathe. His throat spasmed. There was pain in his chest, like a burning knife.

If the left arm is numb that is a sign of a heart attack. 

His arms were sore from battle, but other than that...

Sylvain fumbled with the straps on his breastplate, but the leather slipped through his shaking fingers. 

There was a tap at the flap of his tent. 

“Go away!” Sylvain choked out. 

If the victim is speaking, that means they will be fine. Speaking was good. The airways are open. The brain is working. 

“It’s me.” It was Edelgard. 

Sylvain breathed out a ragged breath, his entire body shook. His hands curled into the rug beneath him, as if that would ground him to reality. He blinked so that the tears wouldn’t fall. There was a rustle and Sylvain heard the clinking of Edelgard’s armor as she stepped into the tent. He heard her small gasp when she laid eyes on him. 

“I don’t want to see you right now.” Sylvain mumbled to the ground. 

“I-” Edelgard began. “If they had surrendered I would have spared them. All of them. I swear to you.” 

They never would have. 

Racing pulse. Not a sign of a heart attack.  

Sylvain tried to take a deep breath and he let himself collapse into a sitting position. Edelgard knelt at his side, but did not dare to draw closer. Sylvain did not raise his eyes. He thought of all he had seen on the Tailtean Field. 

Dedue trying to protect Dimitri. Felix falling to Hubert after an extended magic fight, the bite in Felix’s last word of ‘traitor,  as he locked eyes with Sylvain. Ingrid’s pegasus shot down. And so many of the others. All of the others. Even Professor Byleth. 

Dimitri had run to their professor who was supposed to have died five years ago, but it had been too late. She looked surprised at the sword in her chest. When Edelgard stood aboved Dimitri and bid him, the King of Delusion, goodbye, he had looked ready. He had nothing left to lose. 

“This is the cost of war.” Sylvain stated. What else was there to say?

“I know.” Edelgard said. “I’m sorry.” 

He wanted Edelgard to reach out to him. To help him unbuckle his armor. To sit with him and mourn the people that had been their friends. He knew she wanted to as well. 

“Go away.” was what he ended up saying. “Please, go away, Edelgard.” 

And she did just that. When she was gone, Sylvain drew his knees in close and cried. 

“We might be dead tomorrow.” Sylvain said. 

The night sky was starting to turn rosy. The air was crisp and cool, and dew gathered on the grass below, it reflected the light of the coming son, turning the whole world into one of light. Edelgard and Sylvain walked the ramparts of the outer walls of Fhirdiad. Somewhere in the inner walls was Rhea, holed up in the royal castle. 

Edelgard held back a laugh. “When we were at the Academy, everyone praised you for being a diamond in the rough, they thought you would be a great leader one day.” 

“And?” 

“And that’s not very motivational.” 

Sylvain shrugged. “Good thing you’re the one that gives the speeches.” 

They looked out into the sunrise. Rhea and Thales must be watching the same one. Although, Thales was a serpent who had burrow after burrow to hide in, their fight with Rhea was definite and imminent. 

“Do you think about the Academy?” Edelgard asked. 

“Sometimes I do.” Sylvain said. “I think mostly about what could have been different. If we all just realized how much we had in common. I’m glad I figured it out pretty easily.” 

“I’m glad, too.” Edelgard said. She sighed and rested her hands on a stone older than their grandparents. “What if we were just normal? With no crests. I wonder what my life would’ve been like there.” 

Maybe we could’ve been together. “Edelgard-” Sylvain began, but he stopped himself. “You’re making that life now, for millions yet to live their lives.” he said instead. 

Edelgard reached out and took his hand. She looked up at him, tears at the corners of her eyes. “Thank you for walking this path with me.” 

The answer came out as easy as breathing. “Of course.” He pulled Edelgard into a hug and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. That was enough. To have Edelgard with him, to have the word she envisioned in their grasp. 

“I love you, Sylvain.” She had said the words so quietly, Sylvain was sure he misheard her. Sylvain pulled away. Edelgard blinked. “Did I say something wrong?” 

“No! It’s just…can you say that again?” 

A small smile spread on Edelgard’s lips. “I love you, Sylvain.” 

“ I love you, too .” Sylvain said. He smiled. He laughed. 

Edelgard laughed, too. Sylvain pulled her close again and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Edelgard melted into his touch. She loved him. Edelgard loved him. 

The Emperor loved him . It was like ice water was thrown over Sylvain’s head. ‘ Don’t be you’. His father’s ghost said. 

“No one has to know about us.” Sylvain said. “If you were associated with me…it could ruin you.”

Thoughts swirled in his head. He was a traitor. From a noble, but old and weird family from the Kingdom. He had been promiscuous; his name had just been another word for a girl making a stupid decision. He was him. 

And here was Edelgard. The savior of Fódlan. The bravest, and most clever person walking. If they weren’t destroying the church, he thought she would be regaled as Saint Edelgard in a handful of decades. 

“People already talk.” Edelgard said, drawing Sylvain closer. “Let them.” 

Sylvain kissed her. He kissed her as dawn broke over the world. 

Sylvain rushed past guards as they swarmed through the smoke . Sylvain kicked open the door, splinters flew through the air. The person inside gasped in surprise. Sylvain marched in and pointed his spear at the man hiding under the table. “ You .” 

“How dare you point your lance at me-”

“ How dare you even breathe .” Sylvain said to Thales. “I would tell you to stand on your own two feet like a man, but you’re not even that.”

Thales looked him up and down. "You defeated that she-demon? That false saint? A congratulations are in order, my boy. For you and for my little-"

Sylvain tossed his Lance aside and held up a ragnarok spell. He gripped Thales by the front of his doublet and shoved the spell under his nose. Thales glanced down at it . “What will you do with me, now that you have me, Sylvain Gautier?” Thales asked, his voice even despite the spell inches from him. 

“It’s not what I’m going to do to you. Believe me, I want to rip your stinking guts out and leave it for the vultures to peck, while you watch with your head in your hands, but unfortunately that’s not for me to decide.” Sylvain said. “You are going to tell me about anything involving the experiments done on Edelgard.”

Thales chortled like he had just been caught off guard. Then he laughed, a deep belly laugh. “Are you serious?” he asked. “You know who I am! You know what organization I lead! And all you want to know about is what happened to a stupid, little-” 

Thales did not get to finish his sentence. Sylvain shoved the ragnarok spell against his temple. The purple spell engulfed the side of Thales’s face, including his entire eye. His laugh turned into a scream. Smoke from the burns rose up and curled into Sylvain’s nose. He ripped his hand away and flicked his hand into a healing spell. Thales whimpered. 

“Now, now, I can’t have you passing out on me.” Sylvain said. He hauled Thales into a sitting position just as he heard footfalls in the corridor. Sylvain looked over his shoulder and flashed the person in the doorway a smile. “Ah, there you are, darling.”

Edelgard stepped into the room and looked past Sylvain down at Thales. Thales groaned. 

“Uncle.” Edelgard said. “We have much to discuss.” 

The mountains were like jagged teeth sticking out of a fossilized jaw, and the rivers ran rampant and frothy with all the snowmelt. Yet, the sky was blue and eagles flew overhead calling to one another. Sylvain set down the overly heavy case he was carrying and stretched. His muscles burned, and after a winter of being inside his nose was stuffed from all the new spring flowers. 

“Sylvain! Come on!” Edelgard called from up ahead.

“Coming, dear.” Sylvain said. He tried to sound nice. He was really trying, because he could never genuinely be annoyed at her. Edelgard did not seem to hear any shift in his tone. Sylvain picked up the case again and trudged after Edelgard. 

He came over the crest of the hill to see Edelgard still at the top. She stared out over the valley, transfixed by its majesty. The wind tugged at her cloak and hat. She blinked, and Sylvain was not sure if it was from the wind, but her cheeks were pink and her eyes had tears in them.

“You like it?” Sylvain asked. 

“I love it.” Edelgard breathed, and Sylvain’s heart melted. “Thank you, Sylvain.”

He rested the case of her oil paints and easel next to her and then flopped down onto the long grass. “Wake me when you need me to carry that again for you, until then make sure you get my good side.” 

“It was one time!” Edelgard said as she bent down to open her box. She shot Sylvain a devious look. Her straw sun hat slipped off the top of her head and Sylvain’s hand flashed out to catch it. He smiled when he saw the brown roots in her hair. 

“What is it?” Edelgard asked. 

“Nothing. Just you.” Sylvain said. Edelgard rolled her eyes and began to set up her easel. She closed one eye and made a right angle with her hand as she began to get the scale of the valley in her mind. Surely, this would be a painting worthy of their great hall. “Thank you for sharing this world with me.”