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After all, Monica thought, it hadn't been her intention to come across them together. It just so happened that Hubert had said that Her Majesty had gone to the training grounds to spar and she'd gone to look for her since it had already gotten dark and the emperor hadn't yet returned. When she'd reached the training grounds she'd found them deserted. She'd been about to call out when she'd spotted the flutter of Her Majesty's cloak. And then seen the other figure with her. The Ashen Demon.
And they were not sparring.
Their mouths were pressed together, bodies flush, and Monica might have thought the Ashen Demon was taking advantage, except that Her Majesty's hands were gripping the other woman's jacket, tugging her closer. Her Majesty's eyes were shut, her skin flushed. A strand of her pale hair had escaped its tie and fallen across her brow. Her axe lay abandoned on the ground. The Ashen Demon's fingers trailed down Her Majesty's cheek and the sight of it sent a shiver down Monica's spine.
She turned away, knowing she would forever have the image engraved in her memory, a perfectly preserved artifact. She would remember it as neither of the two would. Even the Ashen Demon couldn't know how unutterably beautiful Her Majesty looked in that moment. No, that was something only Monica knew and she would treasure that knowledge.
***
Monica made a point of not being the first to arrive for the war council. She had provided Her Majesty's attendants with some sweet confections to put out for everyone and she didn't wish to be too obvious by being there when the platters were laid out. Her Majesty might be loath to admit it but Monica knew she had an irresistible penchant for sweets. And indeed, a smile tugged at the emperor's lips when she entered the room and her eyes fell on the pile of fruit tarts, cinnamon cakes, and honey-almond biscuits.
Monica watched with rapt attention as the emperor took her seat and immediately reached for a biscuit. She drank in the smile and the blissful sigh that escaped Her Majesty's lips as she consumed the treat. Her chest filled with warmth at the knowledge that she'd been able to provide her emperor with some small amount of pleasure during these difficult times.
She started when the emperor addressed her. "Monica, I didn't get the chance to inform you earlier, but Byleth will be joining us today."
"You invited the Ashen Demon?" She could feel heat rising in her cheeks as she realized how shrill her voice had become.
The emperor's eyebrows shot up. "Please, Monica, I thought we'd all agreed to call her by name instead of by that moniker. She doesn't care for it, you know."
Monica ducked your head. "I'm very sorry, Your Majesty. May I ask why she's joining us?"
"It's come to my attention that she has a great deal of tactical knowledge. I'd like her to offer her insights for the upcoming campaign."
Through a truly heroic effort Monica managed to restrain a snort. Tactical knowledge indeed. Like how to seduce an emperor via sparring routines. The image sprang to mind again with perfect clarity, Her Majesty and the Ashen Demon locked in a passionate embrace. The memory of that stray hair across Her Majesty's brow could still make her heart flutter just so. Surely the Ashen Demon's heart didn't do any such thing.
Monica did her best to ignore the smile that spread across Her Majesty's perfect lips when the Ashen Demon entered the room. And the way, after the council session, Her Majesty called her over to speak with her. How close to her the Ashen Demon stood, too close for any respectful subordinate. And oh how Her Majesty kept smiling. Monica knew it was wrong of her to wish for it, but if Her Majesty would smile at her like that, if only for an instant, she would treasure it forever. The Ashen Demon, with her dull gaze and flat tone surely could not comprehend the radiance of Her Majesty's smiles. But Monica did and she would store each one like a gem tucked away into a hidden chest.
***
"So yeah, we basically just discussed how to deploy my mercs," Shez said as she sorted through a box of dry goods.
Monica, busy counting the pantry's remaining flour sacks, groaned. Why was it Shez found it so difficult to retain the important details? If she wanted a tactical report she'd have asked Hubert. "But did she mention the book?"
"Book?"
"The group of bandits we fought yesterday had apparently looted a manor in Hrym territory. One of the items we recovered was a book offering detailed analysis of the past monarchs of Fódlan and their styles of rulership. I'm positive it's something that Her Majesty would find useful."
Shez combed a hand through her hair and her face contorted in an expression of deep and effortful thought. "Now that you mention it, she did say something about someone leaving a book in her office."
"And?" Monica prompted.
"And what?" Shez hoisted the box of goods and placed it on the proper shelf while Monica watched with mixed dismay and annoyance.
"And what did she say about it?"
"Oh umm… that she was going to look at it later? Or maybe that she was looking forward to looking at it later? I'm not sure."
Something akin to a growl poured out of Monica's throat. "How can you not be sure?"
Shez shrugged and turned to the next crate waiting to be sorted and stacked. "We don't all have your memory, Monica. Oh that reminds me… She did mention that after our meeting she was going to have tea with Byleth."
"Again?" Monica moaned. "It's the third time this week."
"Yeah, they're really getting along," Shez said, looking far too pleased with the prospect.
Getting along indeed. She could still see the Ashen Demon's fingers on Her Majesty's face, stroking the soft skin of her cheek as if she had any right to touch her, any appreciation of the honour being bestowed on her. Monica shoved a lopsided bag of flour back into place. "What Her Majesty finds so fascinating about run-of-the-mill mercenaries, I will never know."
Shez turned from the crate and eyed her with what Monica could only describe as a pitying look. "You're sounding jealous again."
"What could I possibly have to be jealous of?" Monica snapped. "I'm sure Her Majesty's interest is simply a passing fancy. After all, what could she and the Ashen Demon possibly have to talk about?" Her stomach churned at the thought that perhaps they weren't talking at all.
"Maybe you should tell her."
"Tell her what?"
Shez laughed. "That you've got a thing for her."
"Oh I could never do that. It would be a terrible imposition." Not that the Ashen Demon seemed to care about that, but unlike that boorish mercenary Monica knew her place in the world. "Her Majesty is the sun and I know I'm nothing more than the moon following behind and bathing in her radiance."
"And keeping track of her tea habits," Shez added as she rolled a barrel of pickled herring to the far corner of the pantry.
"We've been over this, Shez. That is valuable information that must be committed to the annals of history."
"Right." Shez flashed her a grin. "What are you gonna do when she gets married, huh? Hide in the bridal suite and count how many times she—"
"Shez! I will thank you not, under any circumstances, to speak of Her Majesty in such lewd terms."
Shez actually had the audacity to laugh even as Monica could feel her face turning red up to her ears. "I was worried for a minute there that you were too far gone to realize how weird that would be, but it looks like there's hope for you yet."
Even so, she made a mental note to make polite enquiries about whether the Ashen Demon had been making late night appearances at Her Majesty's tent. These things were, after all, important to document for posterity.
***
They'd thought their position secure.
The enemy were few in number, just a handful of Kingdom soldiers holding out in one of the few remaining fortresses at the edge of the conquered western territories. Their hit and run attacks on supply lines had made it necessary to eliminate them. And so the imperial army had turned its sights on the region. The emperor herself led the charge rather than divert forces from other positions; after all this could be nothing but a diversionary tactic at the start of a renewed offensive by the northern Kingdom lords.
As always Monica had stayed close by Her Majesty's side. They'd systematically fought their way through the fort's defences, securing each chamber before they moved on. What they hadn't expected was the sliding panel on the far side of one room that revealed a hidden passage.
Monica, closest to that side of the chamber, had heard the creaking hinges in time to see bevy of soldiers gathered in the passageway, throwing spears at the ready. In time to see those spears take flight towards the unprotected flank of her allies who'd been marching towards the doorway to the next chamber. In time to recall the exact position of the emperor and calculate how likely it was that she'd be able to turn and raise her shield before the spear crossed the space between them. In time to throw herself into the path of that very spear.
All this in a heartbeat and then the world erupted into agony and blood and darkness.
#
When Monica woke the first thing she was aware of was the wafting scent of bergamot. For a time she lay there with her eyes closed, letting the scent envelop her. It was a scent she associated with Her Majesty and it gave her such comfort that she might have drifted back to sleep had she not also noticed the sound of shuffling papers.
Her eyelids felt leaden, her eyes full of sand, but she forced them open—only to find herself gazing at the emperor of all Adrestia, who appeared to be sipping tea and skimming what looked like her perpetual sheaf of reports at Monica's bedside.
"Your Majesty?" Monica croaked.
The emperor looked up from her papers, her expression of surprise melting into what might have been relief. "Monica! You're awake. How are you feeling?"
"I'm well, Your Majesty."
The emperor snorted. "You were skewered by an enemy's spear. I doubt very much that 'well' is an accurate description of how you're feeling. Now please, an honest answer so I can give an accurate report to the healers. Are you in any pain?"
Monica shook her head. How could she feel pain when Her Majesty sat at her bedside and looked on her with such concern? How could she complain when she'd been graced with such a gift? "No, not at all. A little stiffness at most."
"Good. I told them to take care of you as they would me. Do you remember what happened?"
Monica almost laughed. She remembered everything that happened, always. Even looking down at herself to see blood blossoming on her side like a summer flower, the same vivid red as Her Majesty's cloak. "Yes. We were attacked from a secret passageway. What happened after that?"
"There were casualties but we managed to repel the attacks and take the fort." Her Majesty's lips thinned to a line. "You were very lucky the spear only struck your side and missed anything vital. You barely survived as it was and only because Byleth rushed you to the healers."
"The Ashen—Captain Eisner did?"
"I'm told she was covered in so much blood they didn't believe it could all be yours."
"I—" Monica was torn. Somehow, even in her greatest moment of heroism and sacrifice the Ashen Demon had still managed to monopolise Her Majesty's attention. But she'd also saved Monica's life and allowed her to have this beautiful moment of waking up to find Her Majesty by her side, full of more concern and devotion than Monica could have ever dared to wish for. "Please pass on my thanks to Captain Eisner," she managed finally.
"I shall." Did Monica detect a blush on those pale cheeks? She tried not to think of how Her Majesty intended to thank the Ashen Demon, of how the Ashen Demon might stroke those flushed cheeks, might press her mouth to those soft lips and down the sharp lines of her jaw and the pale expanse of her throat. She tried—and failed utterly.
"Now, Monica, I want you to listen to me very carefully. I have an important request."
"Of course, your Majesty. I'd do anything for you, as I'm sure you know."
The emperor leaned forward, her fingers coming to rest on Monica's wrist. It was the barest of touches but it set Monica's heart thrumming. "Please don't be so reckless with your life." Monica opened her mouth to protest but shut it immediately as Her Majesty held up a hand. "Consider this a personal request. Whatever you may think, you are a treasured friend and I would be most grieved to lose you."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Monica was uncertain if she could truly fulfill that request; surely it was her duty as Her Majesty's loyal servant to lay down her life for her. But she would certainly try. And though perhaps the Ashen Demon might know the delights of Her Majesty's lips and touch, Monica knew she would forever hold this moment in her memory, a perfect treasure of being treasured.