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The Black Eagle classroom was burnished with the orange glow of late afternoon as the hours ticked by. The light played most curiously with the deep teal of Byleth’s hair, the warm shadows sharpening her features as her eyes narrowed in concentration.
“It would be more advantageous to keep our forces in the main streets,” she spoke, the deep tones of her voice causing Edelgard’s heartstrings to thrum. “That way we can keep formation and advance as a unified front.”
Edelgard flicked her gaze to the map sketched out on the desk before them. “But wouldn’t we be more vulnerable that way, my teacher? The Kingdom is famed for their pegasus knights. If they employ their aerial forces for this drill, then we’re sitting ducks. We’ll find cover in the smaller streets and alleyways.”
“That’s true,” Byleth began, and Edelgard preened at the acknowledgement but it was short lived as the professor continued. “However, that’s too constrictive. Our forces would be stretched out and all the heat would be drawn towards choke points. Not to mention, pegasi can maneuver well enough around buildings, but our archers will have more difficulty hitting them from an alley.”
“Right as always, my teacher,” Edelgard conceded, disappointed in herself.
Byleth placed a hand on her shoulder, making Edelgard look up at her. “It was a good suggestion, and there may be cases when such tactics are called for.”
“There’s no need to console me,” she huffed but made no move to remove the hand on her shoulder. “I simply need to study the terrain more.”
Byleth gave her shoulder a brief squeeze before withdrawing her hand. “A big city is certainly an unusual place for large-scale combat. It’s unlikely we’ll have to fight there in a real battle.”
Edelgard’s stomach sank. Perhaps large cities were unfamiliar with the battlefield in these times of superficial peace, where violence oft fell to those in the numerous cracks in society. But in just a few months’ time, her war would bring it all to the forefront. She couldn’t promise the safety of even the largest settlements.
Her gaze fell back on the map, apprehension coiling in her stomach. She had to be a better commander, a better leader. The more efficiently she could go about her war, the less lives would be lost.
She traced the details of the map with her finger, the streets, the battlements. The small figurines of their forces casted stark shadows over the parchment. Perhaps they should light a lamp-
“Oh, look at the time!” Edelgard exclaimed, realizing belatedly how dark it had gotten. “I apologize for keeping you so late, Professor!”
Byleth chuffed, hardly a puff of breath, but it was the most she offered in the way of laughter. “No need to apologize. Teaching you is my job, remember?”
“It’s well past your working hours. This time should’ve been reserved for yourself.”
“I like spending time with you, so given the choice, I’d gladly go over more tactics with you should you wish to.”
The way she said it, so simple and earnest, had Edelgard’s heart skipping a beat. She ducked her head, hoping the shadows would hide her blush. “Then it is appreciated, my teacher.”
Byleth smiled at her, more radiant than the sun. The last of the afternoon’s rays shone through the window and lit up the fringes of her hair like a halo.
Her professor looked like a saint, and the imagery was disquieting to her. She glanced at the map, thinking of her coming war. Would Byleth still want to spend time with her then, or more likely, would she level that sharp wit of hers against Edelgard? It wouldn’t matter even if she managed to outmatch her professor’s skills as a tactician. Nothing would be more devastating to her than to see the face before her regard her scathingly.
“I should be going now, I have an arrangement with Hubert tonight,” Edelgard said stiffly. “Allow me to clean this up first. It’s the least I could do.”
“No need, I’ll take care of this.” Byleth shooed her away with a prod to the small of her back. “Hubert would be most displeased if I of all people were to keep you. You’d best be on your way.”
“Has he been bothering you again? Don’t mind him,” Edelgard crossed her arms. She knew her retainer meant well, and she conceded that he had a point about keeping their distance. But fate be damned, she wanted to be with Byleth. To stand by her side and to bask in her warmth. Even if she were to inevitably point her blade at Edelgard, she wanted to at the very least express her feelings to her teacher.
“You already do so much for me,” Edelgard told her, “I’d like to return the favor somehow.”
Byleth swept aside the figurines and rolled up the map. “When you’re less busy perhaps. I’m not going anywhere.”
But I will , Edelgard thought to herself. Much as she wished she could stay, the path she’d chosen would push her over the precipice. Byleth would never follow her over the edge.
Edelgard swallowed down her anxiety. “Very well,” she acquiesced, but she was determined to make it up to her. “Look forward to it, Professor. I will show you the depths of my gratitude!”
It was harder than she initially thought to get a gift for her teacher. The first time, for Byleth’s birthday, the whole class had pitched in to get their professor a present. It wasn’t impersonal by any means, and it gladdened Edelgard every time she saw the Black Eagle pendant upon Byleth’s neck, but surely something more fitting could be provided.
She went over the things Byleth liked in her head. She could get her fishing lures, or maybe even a new sword. A fancier tea set?
Edelgard shook her head. These were all things to be purchased, hardly a trifle for a princess of her station. If she wanted to truly show her teacher the depths of her feelings, she needed to put more than her money into this.
Inspiration struck her in the dining hall. When she lined up to order her favorite dessert at the counter, she ran into Byleth who had queued as well.
“You again, Professor?” the cook had guffawed. “How many servings have you had in just the last hour?”
“No dessert yet,” Byleth pouted.
“I was going to get saghert and cream,” Edelgard told her, “we can share if you’d like?”
Byleth had looked at her then like she’d offered the very crown of Adrestia. It was quite endearing how enamored she was with food, though Edelgard supposed it suited a simple soul like her teacher.
It was then that she decided to make her something. With her own two hands, a home cooked meal especially for Byleth. She could also recall reading somewhere that the quickest way to a man’s heart was through the stomach.
It may be a fleeting thing, enjoyed for only a moment on her lips and leaving her satisfied for a scant few hours at best. But wasn’t their time together at the academy just as ephemeral? They may not be destined to last, but she can hope with all her heart that Byleth would cherish it all the same.
As the past couple of hours Edelgard had spent in the kitchen had taught her, cooking was hard.
She frowned at the blackened lump of a fish in the skillet in front of her, sniffing disdainfully at the burnt smell. How did it even come to this when she followed the recipe? Well, mostly followed the recipe. Surely the dish needed more than just a pinch of salt. She’d concede however that perhaps more fire wasn’t the best idea, but it had been taking too long to cook otherwise.
She tried to scrape off the charred parts to see if any of it was salvageable. Even without the bitter burnt skin, the fish was over seasoned, somehow soggy, and frankly offensive to her palate. She had to drink copious amounts of water to get rid of the taste.
She couldn’t feed this to Byleth! Having no choice but to discard it in the trash with her other culinary failures, Edelgard sulked dejectedly at the counter.
She didn’t always do terribly in the kitchen. She seemed to do just fine when she worked with her classmates or teachers on the task when she was assigned. What went wrong now?
Going over the recipe again, she could see now what other mistakes had occurred. She let her forehead thump against the counter and just lied there for a moment. She’ll try again after a while. At least she knew not to cook it with the marinade next time.
“My lady?”
Edelgard jolted, nearly spilling a bowl of chickpeas. “Hubert!” she cried, whirling around. “What are you doing here?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing.” He strode into the kitchen, eyeing the cluttered setup of ingredients and cooking implements before coming to a stop before her. “It’s hardly the time for kitchen duty.”
She put the bowl down and went about lighting the stove as she considered her reply. “This is more of a personal endeavor. Nothing you need to concern yourself over.”
She kept her eyes on the skillet, but she could feel Hubert’s gaze boring into her.
“If you’re having cravings, you could’ve just told me instead of troubling yourself like this,” he said. “I’ll happily cook for you.”
Edelgard shooed his hands away as he moved to take over. “This is exactly why I don’t tell you these things. I need to do this myself, thank you very much.”
He scoffed. “Who ever said you needed to do anything?”
“I did,” Edelgard insisted. “Besides, this isn’t for myself. This is to be a gift.” Her voice became smaller as she added tentatively. “For the professor.”
All that could be heard was the light crackling of the flames as Hubert considered this information. Edelgard shifted on her feet nervously.
“I can’t say I approve of this,” he said finally.
“I’m not asking for your approval,” she snapped back.
Frustrated, she went back to her cooking. She reached for a bottle of oil when Hubert stayed her hand.
Whatever retort on her tongue was lost as he spoke over her matter of factly.
“The skillet isn’t hot enough.”
“Pardon?”
He held both their hands over the metal to demonstrate his point. “If the skillet isn’t properly heated before you add your ingredients, they won’t cook properly.”
“I see,” she said thoughtfully. “Should we add more fire?”
“Patience, Lady Edelgard,” he chuckled wryly, “this isn’t a battle you can rush. Other preparations can be made in the meantime.”
He turned to the other ingredients, measuring them and dividing them neatly in small bowls. Edelgard watched him work. She tried to find an opening to insert herself, but Hubert was as efficient as ever.
She had to fend him back with a spoon but he did leave the actual cooking to her, albeit with ample coaching.
Eventually, they made an impressive dish of grilled fish and vegetables. The aroma was tantalizing and the presentation was akin to the plates she’d been served by the royal chefs at the palace.
Or more accurately, any dish her personal retainer would make her.
Hubert for his part looked rather pleased with the outcome. “Excellent work, Lady Edelgard. I doubt the professor’s palate is that refined to begin with, but I’m certain she’ll be most impressed.”
She snorted. “I can’t give this to the professor. You practically did all the work.”
“Does it matter? She wouldn’t know the difference if you don’t tell her otherwise.”
“It matters to me,” Edelgard said emphatically. She didn’t want to deceive Byleth anymore than she already was. Let this gift be the one honest thing she could give her if nothing else.
Hubert sighed as he shook his head. “I’ll never understand why you feel the way you do around the professor.”
“Because it’s ‘illogical and ill-advised’?” She drawled, beginning to pick at the fish. They may as well have it if it wasn’t going to her teacher.
“Among other things,” he huffed, crossing his arms. “I fail to see what attracted you to begin with.”
Edelgard raised an eyebrow. “Surely even you are impressed by the professor’s martial prowess and keen mind?”
She wouldn’t wax poetic to him about Byleth’s warmth toward her as she held that closer to her chest. Not to mention, it might make Hubert more leery. Sufficed to say, he would likewise find any appeals to the professor's appearance even more absurd.
Predictably, he remained suspicious. “She’d certainly made an impression,” his eyes narrowed as he spoke. “I can see how much of a threat she poses should she face us on the battlefield. I can also see how much she distracts you. We can’t trust her.”
Edelgard harrumphed, petulantly eating as she took her time to respond. “Then I’m grateful you lent your assistance despite your reservations.”
He was silent again for a long moment, regarding her carefully. “For your sake, Lady Edelgard, I hope we don’t end up regretting this.”
She set her fork down, folding her hands together as she closed her eyes. She envisioned Byleth, her subtle smiles, her patient instruction, her fierce empathy when Edelgard bared her heart to her on a quiet, sleepless night.
She hadn’t told Hubert that she’d already revealed so much of herself to their professor.
“I won’t regret a thing,” Edelgard said, resolute and certain. No matter what the outcome, she’d do it all over again simply to be at Byleth’s side, if only for a few stolen moments.
Edelgard was on her way back from the market, a basket full of ingredients tucked under her arm. She poked through the basket, making sure that she had everything she needed. With the skills she picked up from Hubert, she was determined to get everything right this time around. Cataloging her items, she confirmed that she had all her vegetables, spices, and most importantly a fresh fish.
She had considered catching her own fish for her gift. However, being so close to the edge of deep bodies of water made her uneasy and not even the monastery’s pond was exempt. Besides, the professor was a frequent visitor as well and Edelgard would find it awkward to fish in her presence.
Market bought ingredients would have to suffice, but she was proud to include some of the vegetables she and Bernadetta had been growing.
She was on her way to the kitchen when something made her stop in her tracks.
“Meow.”
A black and white cat stood in her path, pupils round and wide as it stared up at her imploringly. “Meow!”
Edelgard crouched to get closer to its level as she scratched it behind the ears. “Hello there, little one. I’m afraid I didn’t bring anything for you today. Next time, I’ll make it up to you with an extra special treat. How does that sound?”
The cat bumped its head against her arm, meowing stubbornly. This particular feline Edelgard knew to be quite the demanding fellow. It caught a whiff of the contents of her basket and pawed at it hopefully. “Meow!”
“This isn’t for you,” she told it sternly, lifting the ingredients out of its reach. “I’m going to cook something for the professor and I haven’t anything to spare.”
The cat continued to meow, loud and bereft. It lied down at her feet, rolling over and exposing its belly as it wailed.
Edelgard looked down at it, conflicted. She wanted to carry on with her cooking but she simply couldn’t leave the cat upset like this. In the end, she couldn't resist its cries.
Defeated, she picked the fish from her basket and offered it to the cat. “Alright, you have convinced me. Here you go.”
The cat bolted to its feet and began to scarf down the fish like it was starving.
“Hey, slow down or you’ll choke!”
A cough.
“See, I told you so.” She began to stroke its fur as it continued to eat. “Honestly, you act as though I don’t feed you regularly. And with how plump you’re getting, I’m sure you have other sources of nourishment as well.”
The cat only purred between mouthfuls of fish.
Edelgard sighed. She’d better head back to the market to replenish her ingredients quickly if she wanted to make it to the kitchen before the lunch rush. “I’ll be going now, finish that up okay. Good kitty.”
Soon enough, Edelgard returned to the steps leading up to the kitchen only to once again find her path impeded. This time, a veritable army of cats had commandeered the staircase. All of them looked at her with pleading eyes and plaintive meows. The black and white cat from before was loafing in the middle next to a picked clean fish bone.
“I see how it is.” Edelgard hefted her basket in one hand as she placed the other on her hip. She had the foresight to predict such a development and had come prepared. She’d bought heaps of extra fish from the market so she could appease the cats and still be able to make that dish for Byleth.
The cats began to crowd closer as she distributed the fish, mindful to save one for her cooking.
“No need to squabble, I brought enough for everyone. That’s it, good kitties. Hey, you’ve already had! I saw you!”
She was picking her way delicately up the steps, careful not to step on tiny paws or wayward tails. She almost made it to the top when she noticed one of the cats was robbed of its share. It was smaller than the others, perhaps younger, and was helpless as a larger cat made away with its fish.
“Get back here!” She called after it, marching back down but the thief had absconded. The small cat mewled as it glanced up at her.
“Poor thing,” she cooed, sitting down next to it. Fortunately, she had one last fish to give it. The cat purred happily as it began to eat while Edelgard stood guard against would-be larcenists. It wasn’t until the cat ate its fill that she realized that she had no more to cook with.
Urgency made her pulse pick up as she considered her options. If she was quick enough, she might still make it to the market and back. Before she could move, however, the small cat had crawled onto her lap and curled up there, effectively rendering her immobile.
Defeated once more, Edelgard allowed herself to be pinned in place, the other cats rubbing at her in thanks for the meal.
“At least I fed someone today,” she huffed as she petted the cats. Unable to be upset with them despite the hassle.
A voice spoke behind her, making her jolt. “I was wondering where they all went.”
“My teacher!” Edelgard stammered, whirling to see the professor padding toward her.
Byleth surveyed all the cats that were lingering at the staircase, content to lie down now that they were full. She sat down next to Edelgard. “All the cats in the monastery seemed to have suddenly vanished. I didn’t expect to find them here with you though.”
“Oh, I was just- that is to say,” Edelgard stammered, beyond embarrassed to be caught in such a situation. She was covered in fur that was starkly visible against her otherwise pristine uniform and the cat in her lap had begun meowing to berate her for her sudden movements.
Finding little of her dignity left to salvage, Edelgard accepted the situation for what it is and lifted her chin despite the heat burning her cheeks. “I was just… feeding the cats. We might’ve gotten a bit carried away.”
Byleth smiled. She reached over to pet the cat in her lap, which was quick to melt into a purring puddle of fur under her ministrations. “Seteth told me before not to feed the cats. He said they won’t do their job of pest control if they’re being pampered.”
Edelgard scoffed at that. She had received the same reprimand some time earlier in the school year but she didn’t pay it any mind. “I’m not one to bend to authority. Especially when its demands are nonsensical.”
“Really?” Byleth looked at her curiously, her eyes twinkling in that distinctive manner of hers. “You’ve been a model student to me.”
“Well…” Edelgard balked at that, unsure how to respond.
“Is there a problem, Edelgard?” Byleth asked. She picked up the cat by its front paws to wave them at her face. “Could it be that a cat has gotten your tongue?”
Now she really didn’t know how to respond to that.
She’s saved from further embarrassment when the familiar gongs of the church bells sounded.
Byleth’s expression lit up. “Ah, it’s lunch time.” She stood up, dusting the fur from her hands before offering one to her. “Would you like to join me for a meal?”
Edelgard’s gaze flicked to the basket at her side. She was supposed to cook Byleth’s lunch today, yet she let the day’s events get the better of her. She swallowed back a sigh. There would still be next time.
For now, she had to coax a cat out of her lap so she could take Byleth’s offered hand.
While the importance of a plan well plotted could never be overstated, there were times in which a change in tactics was called for. After much deliberation, Edelgard decided a different recipe could yield her more favorable results. She was once again on her way to the kitchen when another cat brushed against her legs with an inquisitive meow. She let it sniff her basket and upon finding nothing of interest to it, the cat didn’t have much reason to bother her. It still followed her to the kitchen however, and so long as it behaved, she decided to let it be.
Edelgard decided to try her hand at pastries this time. She wouldn’t have to compete with the cooks around meal times and surely Byleth enjoyed sweets just as well. She set her ingredients about her and began to sort and measure them accordingly. She even had a small notepad with Lysithea’s advice scribbled in it for consultation.
The cat quickly proved to be untrustworthy around the batter and had to be gently escorted outside.
As Edelgard mixed her ingredients together, a small unlabeled bottle gave her pause. She set her spoon and mixing bowl down to inspect the bottle. It wasn’t from the kitchen, she’d been around long enough to tell. She hadn’t brought it either, so someone else must’ve left it here.
Curious, she opened it and gave the contents a sniff. The aroma was stronger than she expected, and from the small size of the bottle, whatever this ingredient was must be quite concentrated indeed. It had a strange, savory sort of smell, reminding her of truffles but something was off.
“Hey, Princess! Fancy running into you here.”
At the sound of the voice, Edelgard’s regard for the bottle immediately went from casual curiosity to deep-seated dread.
“Say, have you seen a bottle lying around here?” Claude asked, “I might’ve forgotten something when I was on cooking duty earlier.” His arms were folded nonchalantly behind his head as he swept his gaze over the kitchen counters. His demeanor was as laidback as ever, but Edelgard was wise to his tendencies and detected the urgency in his movements.
She screwed the bottle closed and held it in front of him, in plain sight but out of reach. “Is this what you’re looking for?”
“You got it!” Claude grinned, but the look in his eyes was far from relief. “You’re a lifesaver, Princess. Now gimme.”
Edelgard snatched it away from him as he moved to take it. “What is it?” she demanded first.
He kept smiling, but his gaze was notably sharper now. “Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head over. Just trust me that you don’t want to use that in whatever you’re cooking right now.”
The fact that it was poison went without saying. Claude didn’t appear inclined to tell her anything but there was one thing she needed to clarify before she could let him go.
“Is it airborne?”
“Good question,” he exclaimed brightly, “how much did you inhale?”
Her response was a deepening glower but he merely laughed her off. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. You were the one who opened the bottle. Frankly, I’m more worried for myself than you…”
Claude at least had the decency to carry her to the infirmary when the effects started to kick in. Manuela gave him a stern talking to, which Edelgard found to be quite gratifying even as the antidote the doctor administered took its sweet time in alleviating her muscle cramps. Toxic fumes were much trickier to purge than ingested poisons. Typical Claude.
Though he was right to be more concerned for himself than for Edelgard, or so Hubert told her after he’d made sure she was comfortable in bed. He left soon after with a dark chuckle and a bid for good rest.
All things considered, Edelgard was just upset she didn’t get to finish her pastries.
Today. Today for sure Edelgard was going to cook for Byleth and she wouldn’t let a damned thing stop her. It was a good sign when she arrived at the kitchen unimpeded and there didn’t appear to be any extraneous materials lying around that could prove hazardous.
She began sorting through her ingredients again, measuring the flour and cutting up the butter.
She heard the footsteps before the scandalized gasp, and she’s already bracing herself for the worst before she turned around.
“Is something wrong, Ferdinand?” she said in a measured breath.
“‘Is something wrong,’ she said,” Ferdinand exclaimed with theatrical displeasure as he began to array a jarringly similar spread of ingredients on his side of the kitchen. “Could it be, Edelgard, that you heard tell of my endeavors and have taken it upon yourself to exert your superiority by beating me at my own game?”
She pinched the bridge of her nose, already feeling the beginnings of a headache. “Only you would arrive at such an inane conclusion.”
He crossed his arms with a harrumph as he regarded her, a challenge burning in his eyes. “Yet here you are, attempting the same thing as I am. I find the evidence to be rather damning, would you not agree? Did Dorothea put you up to this as well?”
“Dorothea? No, this has nothing to do with her. In fact, what I am cooking is for the professor.”
She wasn’t enthused about telling Ferdinand her plans, but if she could nip this one-sided competition in the bud, perhaps it wouldn’t be intolerable to share a kitchen with him. As it was, that seemed to mollify him somewhat.
“I see,” he stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Perchance the professor also likened you to a bee?”
“Excuse me?” she raised an eyebrow.
Whatever hopes she held for peace seemed to be dashed as Ferdinand put his hands on his hips, keener than ever on his deluded rivalry. “Even so, you would find yourself already outmatched, Edelgard. We might appear to have the same ingredients, but did you toil in the fields for your flour? Did you put in the work for your sugar, or for your right to be in the kitchen?”
“What on earth are you talking about?” she asked, beyond exasperated and utterly baffled. “Whatever’s on your mind, I suggest you keep it to yourself. I’d like to cook undisturbed, thank you very much.”
He had the gall to laugh. “You have your eyes on the prize. I respect that. However, do not think for a moment that you are the only one with the single-minded determination to-”
At this point, Edelgard simply tuned him out. He still kept going, his chatter blending in with the ambiance of clinking crockery and the light crackle of cook fires. Ferdinand wasn’t all talk, of course. She was loath to admit it, but she did find his company to be pleasant when he wasn’t bumping shoulders with her in his attempts to goad her into competition.
In the end, they come up with identical batches of cinnamon rolls.
“Impressive, Edelgard, but even you will have to admit that mine are more symmetrical and well-baked than yours,” he insisted, to which she rolled her eyes. “That said, the flavor will be the true metric by which these ought to be judged.”
She swatted his hand away before he could touch her batch. “These aren’t for you, remember,” she scolded him, “these are for the professor.”
Speaking of which, Edelgard caught a glimpse of a grey overcoat fluttering outside. Her pulse began to quicken. Picking up the tray, she dashed out of the kitchen with her heart in her throat as she called out, “Professor!”
Byleth stopped to face her, appearing surprised.
“My teacher, look.” Goddess, when did she get so breathless. “I just baked these. Would you like some?”
A smile graced her lips as she looked over the pastries, but her expression was apologetic as she glanced back up at her. “These smell lovely, but I’m afraid I promised Rhea I would have tea with her this afternoon. Some other time, alright, Edelgard?”
“Some other time,” Edelgard repeated stiffly, the wooden smile she plastered on her face already falling as Byleth turned around to attend to her arrangements with the archbishop. She looked down at the slowly cooling treats in her hands as she was left alone in the hallway.
Edelgard had been a fool to believe there could’ve been anything soft between her and Byleth. Time slipped by like sand in an hourglass and once their academy days had been emptied, there would only be broken shards left between them.
What was Edelgard trying to accomplish with all her dalliances in the kitchen? Byleth’s allegiances were as clear as day and even the Goddess appeared to be bent on preventing Edelgard from ever bridging that gap. Anything she tried to nurture would be quickly cut down. What had been her reasoning earlier? Some ephemeral treat her professor might enjoy? Utter nonsense. Anything she’ll give her would turn to poison in her mouth the moment Byleth sees Edelgard for what she truly was.
Perhaps it was for the best that Byleth never got a taste.
The habit to cook had still stuck with Edelgard. At the very least, she could make herself little treats when she was upset. Presently, she was setting out the candy hearts she’d left to harden the day prior. The kind of confections lovers would exchange on Saint Cethleann’s day.
Edelgard sighed as she slumped against her desk, forlorn as she regarded the treats in front of her. Perhaps this wasn’t the healthiest way to cope with her grief, neither nutritionally nor emotionally, but she couldn’t bring herself to care at the moment.
A knock at her door made her lift her head. Who could possibly need her attention at a time like this? It didn’t sound like Hubert.
“Just a moment,” she called, her voice measured. She might be a pathetic mess of a girl, but she was still a house leader and would play her role as needs demanded.
Arranging herself to be passably presentable in the mirror, she answered the door and was surprised at who she found.
“My teacher?” she gasped.
Byleth stood in the hallway, a sheepish smile on her face and a bundle of carnations in her arms, the scent of cutting still fresh. “Hello, Edelgard. May I come in?”
“Er, yes, certainly!” She shuffled aside to welcome her into her room.
“You seemed rather listless in class earlier, so I wanted to check on you,” Byleth explained as she found a vase to put her flowers into. “How are you feeling?”
“Was I so obviously despondent?” Edelgard couldn’t help but pout. She really needed to get her act together. “Apologies for worrying you, Professor, but I’m alright. I was just… a little upset over something.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Byleth was looking at her with those bright blue eyes, so attentive and filled with concern.
Truly, Edelgard didn’t know what to do with herself.
“It is rather personal, I will admit,” she fiddled with her hands self-consciously. “I’m afraid I couldn’t tell you. But it’s heartening to know you think of me. Thank you, my teacher.”
“Of course,” Byleth was quick to say, “it’s alright if you can’t tell me, but I want you to know I’m always here for you.”
Edelgard pursed her lips, disquieted by her certainty. It was misplaced, but Byleth had no way of knowing that. “As you say,” she replied mildly, unable to meet her gaze. Her eyes fell instead towards the tray at her desk.
Byleth followed her gaze, her curiosity piqued. “What are these?”
“Candy hearts.” She nudged the tray toward her, “would you like to try some?”
“This is food?” Byleth seemed genuinely surprised at the notion. She picked one up and inspected it closely. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen something like it before.” Tentatively, she touched the tip of her tongue to it.
Edelgard laughed despite herself. Her teacher was certainly a strange one, yet somehow she never failed to lift her spirits. “It’s a popular treat in the capital, especially around certain holidays.”
Byleth popped it into her mouth. Her expression was blank for but a fraction of a second before lighting up like a lantern. “It’s so sweet!” she remarked. She made to grab another when she seemed to recall her manners and stopped herself with an apologetic glance at Edelgard.
Edelgard was thoroughly amused at this point. “Please, help yourself, Professor. You can have it all if you’d like.” She had given up in making something for her teacher, yet here Byleth was, finding her way into her heart against all odds.
“But you love sweets,” Byleth insisted, “and you put in the effort to make them too. You should enjoy the fruits of your own labor. Here, we can share.”
Byleth placed a candy in her hand. She wasn’t wearing her usual gloves, so their hands had touched briefly as Byleth pressed a little red heart onto her bare and calloused palm.
Her teacher was looking at her eagerly.
Feeling heat prickle on her cheeks, Edelgard ate the candy. She had to cover her mouth with her hand as she chewed into it, the sweetness on her tongue coupled with Byleth’s beaming expression was making her smile in a way that was surely unflattering. Nevermind the butterflies kicking up a tizzy in her stomach.
She swallowed thickly, the sugar and her sentiments catching in her throat. “Thank you, my teacher.
Byleth actually laughed. An honest to goodness laugh that put church bells to shame with how heavenly it rang in her ears. “No, Edelgard,” she said as she favored another candy heart, “thank you .”