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1
Felix spent the majority of the meal poking at the peach sorbet. He had no idea why Professor Byleth thought this might be something he’d like to eat. But to grow strong, he must consume sustenance, so Felix made an effort. After two spoonfuls though, he mostly poked at it and just barely replied to the Professor’s questions.
Annette, fortunately, did most of the talking. Annette was always talking, and if she wasn’t talking, she was singing or humming. Felix heard her voice in his dreams and in battle and, well, often in person.
When the Professor leaves them, Felix slides his half-melted sorbet towards Annette.
“Here,” he offers.
Annette frowns, clearly unimpressed. “Are you giving me your leftovers?”
Felix shrugs. “You don’t want it?”
“I didn’t say that!” She narrows her eyes at him, only a little bit suspicious. Still, she draws his sorbet closer since she’s now finished her own. “What do you want, Felix?”
“Want?”
“Why are you trying to bribe me?” She drops her spoon with a clatter. Annette turns her head so suddenly he’s surprised she didn’t hurt herself. “Did you just counter-bribe me?!”
“No, I—”
Annette pushes his sorbet back, but there’s barely any left because she obviously ate it. “You tricked me so you could tell people about my songs!” she accuses. Annette rises from the table and stomps away.
2
The galette is an indulgence during wartime, but even Felix isn’t so cynical that he’ll say that to Mercedes’ face. She smiles as she gives him a small piece and then moves on to Ingrid. Felix bites into the crust, buttery and flaky and acceptable, but winces when he gets a piece of the sweet apple filing.
Beside him, Annette licks each of her fingertips, hoping to finish any lingering crumbs.
Felix snorts and holds his piece out to her. “Take it.”
Annette blinks. “But what about you?”
Mercedes’ back is turned as she and Ashe discuss other desserts they like baking with apples.
“You know I don’t care for sweets,” Felix reminds her. He still doesn’t understand why people like to force them upon him. “Eat it for me.”
“Are you sure?” But Annette has already grabbed the galette.
“It’s either you or Ingrid,” Felix mumbles. “At least you savour it. Ingrid would just devour the whole thing in one breath.”
“That’s not a very nice thing to say, Felix.”
He shrugs. “I’m not a nice person.”
Annette smiles though, leaning into his space with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “But you are, aren’t you?” she whispers. Or what Annette considers a whisper. “It’s okay. I’ll keep your secret as long as you keep giving me your dessert.”
Felix raises an eyebrow. “Blackmail? I guess you’re not very nice either.”
3
As it stood, having Annette beside him didn’t do much to deter the various nobles intent on foisting their daughters upon him. People were so eager to marry come peacetime. They made introductions during the soup course, they ignored his seat partner during the salad, and they mentioned the piano forte but nothing about singing during dinner. When dessert came and Felix saw another man force his daughter to her feet, Felix dug his spoon into the chocolate mousse with chocolate shavings and held it in front of Annette’s face.
“Open wide,” he drawls.
Annette drops her jaw, more so out of shock than for the incoming dessert. His spoon is still in her mouth when she asks over the cutlery, “Did you just feed me?”
Felix shrugs. “You want my dessert?”
“I mean, obviously, but since when do you feed me?”
Felix’s eyes flicker towards where Lord so-and-so pauses with his daughter. It’s a testament to how well they once communicated on the battlefield that Annette immediately understands his intentions.
“Using me, are you?” Annette pokes his cheek as she smiles. “That’s very rude of you Felix.”
“I’d say this is a fair trade.” He offers her another spoonful. “Now pretend you’re interested in me so they think we might be courting.”
Annette accepts bites of his dessert between bites of her own. “That shouldn’t be too hard.”
4
There’s no rule saying he has to, but somehow it feels like a bad omen to deny his own wedding cake. Felix pokes at the frosting, thinking that if maybe he just ate some of the sponge, he wouldn’t openly gag on the one night when everyone was watching him and his new wife.
Beside him, Annette laughs. “Don’t force yourself to eat it.”
“I’m not forcing myself.” He shoves a forkful into his mouth. “To be strong, I must eat. No matter how disgusting the food might be.”
“I’m so happy to hear you say that at our wedding feast,” his new bride tells him.
“Okay,” he relents after one bite. “I tried.”
“You probably could’ve had something else instead of a three-tier wedding cake. I don’t know. Um, a jerky tower.”
“That sounds gross.”
“Ingrid would think it’s a good idea!”
“Who cares what Ingrid thinks?” Felix grabs her hand and marvels down at the ring adorning her finger. “Today is about you.”
“Today is about us.” She smiles, reaching towards his plate like he isn’t seconds away from giving to her. “So can I have your cake?”
Felix rolls his eyes fondly. “You can probably have the whole cake if you want it. It’s your wedding.”
“It’s our wedding.”
There’s a small smudge of frosting on her lip that Felix wipes away with his thumb.
She’s had his heart for years and his name for a day. She’ll have everything he can offer her. Of course she can have his stupid cake.
+1
“Is it yummy?”
Felix has never been a good liar, so he avoids his daughter’s eyes, chewing on air since he’s long since spat the disgusting cupcake into a napkin.
“Of course,” Annette says for the both of them. “You’re such a talented baker, sweetheart.”
The girl is positively beaming. Her blue eyes light up and Felix remembers why he forced himself to bite into the dessert that was somehow salty and sour despite the overly sweet frosting. He knew it was a terrible idea to let his daughter bake cupcakes with Sylvain of all people, but she was so insistent it be him. Felix could only assume that the idiot was flirting with the cooks and not at all supervising.
“What about you, father?”
Felix forces a smile onto his face. “I…” Annette elbows him as if that will help him find a lie quicker, “loved it?” She elbows him again. “So much. I could...eat a whole plate of these.”
The girl claps. “Really?!” Then, to their utter horror, Sylvain walks in with a plate of the other cupcakes. He winks at Felix, ruffles the girl’s hair, and then all but skips away. Their daughter grins at them. “You guys can have all of them!”
Felix’s eyes widen. He looks to Annette, his wife, his partner, the woman he trusts to always have his back. Her gaze whips from their daughter’s disgusting cupcakes and then back at him.
“Well…”
On that day, Felix learns betrayal.
“Since your father loves them so much, I suppose I can give him my cupcakes.” Annette slides the entire plate his way.
“Annette,” Felix pleads through clenched teeth. “My love. My life. You don’t have to do that.”
“But I love you so much.”
“And I love you.”
“Therefore I must make this sacrifice.”
“You never need to sacrifice anything for me.”
“I love you too much to not.”
Felix glares at her. “Do you though?” The cupcake’s aftertaste still lingers in his mouth. “Do you really love me, Annette?”
“Yes!” Annette stands, her escape plan in motion. She presses a kiss against his cheek that he only barely remembers not to lean into. “You’ve been sharing your dessert with me for years, Felix. Let me return the favour just this once.”