Chapter Text
Xerxes IV marched through the halls of the palace ignoring all the finery that decorated them. Soft rugs, flower vases that depicted battles, murals of past kings. For a warrior culture, the palace of Almyra was surprisingly artistic. Or so was the first reaction of Xerxes’ wife and queen. At her wide-eyed amazement, he’d laughed and asked if she thought Almyran kings ruled from a cave on a throne of bones and she mumbled that bones had not been part of her vision.
Normally he liked to take it slow and appreciate his home, but today he didn’t have the time. Throwing open the door to one of his son’s private rooms, he scowled at the sight that greeted him. Khalid sat up at the entrance of his father. Surrounding the prince were three young, beautiful women. All of whom weren’t wearing anything. Scrambling for their robes, they murmured a greeting to their king before scurrying out. To Xerxes annoyance, Khalid sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. At the very least, his son had the decency to throw a blanket over his bare body.
“Father,” Khalid leaned an elbow on his knee as he spoke, “to what do I owe the pleasure so early in the morning?” Resisting the urge to growl, Xerxes stared coldly at the young man.
“Son, please tell me you know what day it is today.”
“Of course I do, Father. It’s the 10th of the Garland Moon, year-”
“You know that is not of what I spoke.” Khalid hesitated now to respond. He recognized the warning tone in his father’s voice. Letting his head fall slightly, he spoke more clearly.
“The bride from Fódlan arrives today.”
“ Your bride, boy.” Xerxes rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “I expect you to be ready. And enough of this nonsense.” He gave Khalid a hard look and his son bowed his head.
“As you wish, Father.”
“Better do it before your mother catches wind,” Xerxes grumbled more so to himself before leaving. The door slammed shut behind him.
Byleth could no longer see Fódlan's Locket. The carriage suddenly felt stuffy and she tugged at the collar of her dress. All of this had been her idea of course, but now that she was in Almyra it felt far more real. She’d been allowed to ride on horseback all the way to Fódlan's Throat. There, she had to change into clothes befitting a noble of House Goneril. That was, after all, who she was posing as.
Given that Goneril were the holders of the fort bordering the two nations, it was only natural that Hilda be selected as the bride to cement peace. Byleth received a tear stained letter from her former student begging for assistance in finding a way out of such an arranged marriage. Without hesitation, she’d gone. But a solution was easier said than done. The terms of the treaty were clear: marriage was required. To the daughter of a prominent noble house in the alliance. While there were other, eligible ladies available, once Hilda had been put forward as a candidate, all of the other lords begrudgingly agreed. Their own daughters could still be married off to Fódlan nobility; and thus they had no real reason to oppose a ceasefire.
Hilda, of course, held no such prejudice against Almyrans. But even so, a political marriage was not in her dreams. Byleth, on the other hand, had no ambitions. Teaching had been an eye opening experience for her, but it wasn’t her calling. At the same time, mercenary work wasn’t something she wanted to return to. She had nothing to lose by offering herself to replace Hilda. Besides, Almyran kings could and did have many wives, consorts, concubines, and lovers. And if the rumors were to be believed, this Prince Khalid was no different. Byleth would be but one in a sea of many. If it was truly terrible, she was confident she’d be able to find a way out.
Lord Goneril could not, in good faith, be privy to the switch. Hilda’s older brother, on the other hand, was cautiously for it. With the Goneril siblings’ and Lorenz’s assistance, Byleth received a crash course in politics and manners. The cover was that Byleth was from a branch family of the Gonerils- a cousin of sorts.
Byleth was broken out of her thoughts by a gentle knock on the carriage window. Parting the curtain, she poked her head out. Her attendant and another former student, Cyril, smiled nervously.
“Prof- er, I mean… Miss Goneril, we’re here.” Being of Almyran descent and originally a servant of House Goneril, he’d been the perfect choice to accompany Byleth as a footman.
“You’re going to have to keep practicing,” Byleth teased him gently. Blushing, Cyril nodded before pulling away to rejoin the rest of the servants with the supplies. He’d grown a great deal since graduation, she noted. No longer shadowing Shamir’s every step. But, he still had a ways to go. Taking a deep breath, Byleth closed her eyes. I will not fail .
Khalid stood beside his mother as his father stepped forward to greet the Fódlan woman. The king’s words resonated in his mind. ‘Your bride’. His mouth felt dry as the head servant greeted Xerxes before announcing the newcomer.
“Allow me to present Miss Byleth Goneril.” Byleth? A jolt shot through Khalid. Of course, he’d done extensive research on the houses of the alliance. Who had daughters and who was eligible out of those daughters. Yet, none shared the name. And it was a unique one, one he was confident he’d remember if he read it. Just what is the alliance up to?
The woman stepped out of the carriage and his eyes narrowed. As she curtsied to the king, he was given the opportunity to study her. Shorter than himself, she was dressed in a white gown patterned with black flowers. Dark blue hair fell to her shoulders and framed light blue eyes.
After a moment, his father turned to introduce them. Smoothing his features, Khalid stepped forward. Bowing slightly, he took her hand to place a kiss on the back. He was surprised to note calluses on her fingers and palm. What noblewoman has rough hands?
“Miss Goneril, allow me to welcome you to Almyra.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.” Her voice was calm, almost cold. Khalid liked to consider himself a decent reader of other people, but he found it difficult to get any sort of emotion from her. Interesting.. . Either Byleth had a very good poker face or she truly wasn’t shaken by this arrangement.
“My mother, Queen Tiana,” as per tradition, Khalid introduced his mother next. Soon, they were moving to the dining room. Normally when people walked the halls of the palace for the first time, they looked at everything in one of two ways: greed or awe. Such was not the case. Khalid watched Byleth examine everything with a calculating look. Her eyes darted to every guard they passed. To servants to doors and windows and even up to the rooftops. It’s as if she’s planning an escape route. Khalid found it amusing. Content to watch her, there were no words exchanged during their walk.
Dinner was a bore, if Khalid said so himself. None of his siblings were present so there was no one for him to verbally spar with. Or glare daggers at across the lamb. Pleasantries were exchanged. The queen sought news from her home land and the king described the beauties of Almyra happily. Byleth remained politely attentive throughout the ordeal and it ended without mishap. Before he could retire, a sharp pain shot through his leg. Holding back a yelp, he glared towards his father. But the king refused to back down. Pressing his lips together, he turned to Byleth.
“If I may, I’d love to show you the gardens. They’re beautiful at night.” Ignoring his throbbing shin, he offered her his arm.
“I’d be delighted to join you.” Accepting, she rose and the two slipped away. Khalid watched her critically. Her gait was graceful, but there was something off about it. It wasn’t like the other noble ladies who worked to catch his attention. Her weight distribution was different. Less like a dancer and more like a fighter. Of course, Almyran ladies could fight. But they mostly fought with bows and arrows or polearms. It would not affect their balance so much.
“What is your assessment thus far, Your Highness?” As they reached the gardens, Byleth spoke at last. Startled, he blinked at her for a moment. Unyielding, her gaze flickered towards him to meet his. Recovering, he shook his head.
“Please, call me Khalid.” He paused in front of a water fountain. The sound would do well to muffle their voices. “If we are to be married, we should drop the formalities, don’t you think?”
“Very well then, Khalid.” Contrary to expectations, she agreed. He assumed she would claim that she couldn’t possibly, given that he was a prince and she was.. well, he didn’t really know what her station was. Or perhaps she would do so on the grounds that she didn’t wish to become terribly intimate with him. Arranged marriages could be complicated like that. Khalid himself wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted out of the relationship aside from the ceasefire. “Your assessment. Do you believe me to be dangerous?” He hesitated at the question before shaking his head helplessly.
“I don’t know yet. But I know you are not of House Goneril.” Leaning forward, he dared her to deny it. Since we’re doing this now . Byleth’s head tilted up slightly.
“You’re right.” The honesty threw him off. “Your original intended is a former student of mine. She asked for my help.”
“If it’s discovered you’re not a noble from the alliance, there could be war.” Khalid warned. She shrugged.
“Then we had better keep it a secret.” Frowning, he studied her. Just like before, he couldn’t read anything from her expression despite the pale light of the moon shining directly on her offering him a clear view of her face.
“And if I choose to use it as a means of getting out of this?”
“You won’t.” That got a snort out of him. She was right, of course. But there was no way she could know that for certain. “You don’t wish to see a full blown war any more than the rest of us do, Khalid. Isn’t that why you agreed to the marriage?” She eyed him back. “In addition, your mother hails from Fódlan. I doubt she wants to see more bloodshed. No, this is a secret you’ll keep. I imagine you’re good at it.” With no other argument readily available, he switched topics.
“You believe my mother has the power to stop an attack in retaliation?”
“I do.” Nibbling his lip, Khalid considered her words. Perhaps Queen Tiana couldn’t stop one, but she might be able to delay it. Still, there was nothing protecting Byleth and her servants from being executed for their hand in such deception. Unless there is… He never got the chance to ask. “What are these?” She’d moved away from the fountain towards a couple red and yellow flowers.
“Schrenck’s Tulip,” Khalid answered immediately. The rest of the evening was spent walking the gardens pointing out various plants of interest before he escorted her back to her rooms. “Good night, Byleth.” Kissing the back of her hand, he stared up into her eyes.
“Have a good night, Khalid.” The door shut softly and he stood there for a moment, remembering the image of the woman standing in the doorway. A part of him didn’t want to return to his quarters. Only now did he notice the pounding of his heart. Clenching and unclenching his fists, he forced his feet to take him back to his own rooms. She’s definitely hiding something . That had to be why he hadn’t wanted to leave her side. And yet.. as he lay in bed and closed his eyes, doubt wormed its way into his heart. His dreams that night were dominated by a single woman.