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Felix tapped his foot impatiently against the stone tile, the rhythmic clack of his boot echoing in the open air. A perpetual frown had long since plastered itself upon his sharp face, brow furrowed in thought. What was taking him so long? The young swordsman restlessly glanced back and forth, to the courtyard, to the gazebo, to the small gobs of chatting students, to the stone archway leading back to the Monastery—yet no redhead in sight.
Ugh. Of course. He knew Sylvain had a tendency to be fashionably late—to which he would gloss over with a stupid excuse and an allegedly charming smile—but this was ridiculous. He despised the feeling of being stuck in limbo, sitting still, being idle–especially if he could be training or doing literally anything else with his time. His mind itched with the idea of new drills he wished to go over, a flaw in the way he held his sword that he wished to perfect… Why did Sylvain even ask him to meet here, anyways?
“Oh, you know… Old friends deserve a chance to catch up, right? Go for a walk, do a little training, maybe find a good book, see some pretty girls—ow!.. Okay. Noted. Maybe just a walk, then.”
Felix huffed at the memory and pushed himself off the stone wall, rolling his shoulders in irritation. It didn’t matter the reason, he decided. He would confront Sylvain at a later time. The boy rested a hand against the hilt of his sword, perhaps out of habit, then turned on his heel.
”Eep!”
The sound made Felix still mid-stride, head slowly swiveling in the direction of the squeak—just around the corner. What was that? It sounded like a person, but the courtyard nearest him was beginning to clear out, and not a soul stood underneath the archway where the sound came from… he thought. He carefully retraced his steps, copper eyes narrowed in suspicion. After slipping past the wall where he was moments before, he craned his neck to the side, assessing his surroundings… yet it was only by directing his gaze downwards did he see anyone.
Crouched on the floor near the wall’s corner was a familiar purple haired girl, fingers clutching a leather-bound book that she utilized like a flimsy shield to hide her face. Her cheeks were slightly puffed out, as if holding her breath to ensure he didn’t notice her–and promptly yelped when he did, ducking her head. “What do—What do you want!? Am... am I bothering you? No, I get it! I wouldn’t—wouldn’t want me here either! I’ll go!” The words tumbled from her mouth haphazardly, though she was too startled to move. She trembled, dipping her gaze to the side of her book to look up at him with big steely eyes.
“Bernadetta.” It wasn’t really a greeting, simply an acknowledgement of her presence. Felix hesitated. “You’re out of your room.”
“Eek! I know! Is that—is that bad? Do you need me to go back? I can, no trouble at all! Really!” She apologized profusely, lowering her book at last. Bernadetta’s bangs were lightly plastered to her face, the intense worrying coating her anxious brow with a thin veil of sweat.
Felix’s nose wrinkled subconsciously. “No, just... What are you doing?”
She seemed to shrink inward at the question, her lips pursing into a thin line. “Just waiting! I was supposed to, uh... meet someone here. I—I was gonna see, er—I was gonna show him this.” She gestured vaguely to the book in her hands. “But he hasn’t gotten here yet... Do you think he... he doesn’t want to see me? Maybe he changed his mind, and thinks my book is stupid! Stupid Bernie! I should’ve known!”
“Did y—“
“No one would read something like this! It’s weird and stupid anyways!”
”Bernadetta,” Felix butted in firmly, his tone piercing enough to stop the spiral of words she seemed to spout. He carefully crouched down to her eye level, squinting. “Who asked to meet you?”
She exhaled shakily, clutching the book tight to her chest. “Syl—Sylvain...” The girl’s voice rose a few octaves upon saying his name, as if she was going to be reprimanded for ratting him out.
The dark haired boy paused. He blinked once. Twice.
Oh. My. Goddess.
Felix’s eyes widened, the realization hitting him like a wyvern-load of bricks. Sylvain set him up, and even worse, he fell for it..?
Felix pinched the bridge of his nose, half-mad at Sylvain for initiating this, half-mad at himself for even agreeing to it in the first place. No—three-quarters mad at Sylvain, because he didn’t even account for the fact Felix had nothing decent enough to say to Bernadetta once they actually met up.
The girl trembled, growing increasingly more anxious by the second. “Did I say—was it something I said?” She stuttered.
“I’m gonna kill—.”
Bernadetta didn’t even wait until he finished speaking to squeal, snapping the open book over her face again. “Eeeek! I’m sorryyy! I—I have so much more life to live! I’ll never leave my room again, okay?! In fact, I’ll go now!!”
“Stop. I’m not talking about you. This isn’t… your fault,” he replied, a hint of awkwardness seeping into his usual sternness. The young swordsman inhaled, adjusting his tone with visible effort. “Just… calm down, before you give yourself a heart attack.” Not the best thing to say to a regularly anxious person, but Felix didn’t have many other ideas. He wasn’t very good at comforting people normally, let alone someone at Bernadetta’s… decibel. Was this supposed to be what Sylvain was talking about earlier, with finding a good book and a pretty lady? That’s ridiculous. As if he’d find her taste in literature good, or her face pretty… Felix grumbled under his breath and averted his gaze, scowling at nothing in particular.
Besides, if Sylvain ever found out he was ever so slightly right about anything, Felix would never live it down—regarding the books. Obviously the books.
“So, you’re—you’re not..?” Her words seemed to trail off into a nervous, high-pitched squeak. Her knuckles had gone white from clutching her book so tight, but after a moment, she carefully tucked it under her arm. She was hardly calm, but the shrill edge to her panic seemed to dull.
A beat of silence passed between them—broken only by the chatter and footsteps of loitering students—before Felix rose to his feet in one fluid motion, clearing his throat. He figured it best if Bernadetta didn’t know about Sylvain’s bright idea to force their interaction. “Uh… Sylvain won’t be coming. Something came up at the last minute, so… No use staying here. I’ll walk you back to your room.”
“Wha—what? You want… to walk? With me? Like… together?! With—with you??” Her voice wobbled, cracking at the last word as if she couldn’t even entertain the idea.
Felix’s brow twitched faintly. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”
Yet again she squeaked, nearly stumbling over her own two feet as she stood, her stance slightly hunched. “Well… uhm—okay. I mean, no! I—I mean, yes?” She shook her head, gesturing wildly with her hands, “I mean, no! You won’t—er, you don’t have to worry about me! I know the way back, it’s—it’s my room, of course I know where it is! You’re probably ju—just saying that to be nice! I bet you have lots of better things to do! Like—swording things! Training! Wi-With your….sword…”
Felix gave her a long, unimpressed look. “Just move your feet.”
“Moving! Moving now!” She trilled, quickly skittering through the courtyard. However, she only managed to stumble down the hall before abruptly stopping, turning around. She shuffled a few paces back towards Felix, looking at him expectantly yet saying nothing.
He sighed, raking a hand through his dark hair. Wordlessly, he walked forward, watching as Bernadetta fell into step beside him—hunched over like she was trying to hide herself in his shadow.
The silence they fell into would have been comfortable, if Bernadetta stopped blubbering to herself and tripping over her own feet; an erratic taptaptap noise occasionally interrupted by the scuffing of shoes. Felix’s eyes narrowed, but strangely enough, he didn’t find himself as annoyed with her antics as he thought he’d be.
“You… you know… y-you really don’t have to walk me back. I-I don’t mind…” Bernadetta insisted quietly.
“I don’t care either way. Besides…” He huffed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “It’s not your fault he didn’t tell you he wasn’t showing up. Might as well talk to someone before you head back.”
The purple haired girl seemed to physically relax at his words, eyebrows raising slightly. “You want to talk to… to me?”
Felix’s eyes narrowed, his straight nose crinkling slightly. “Its better than listening to you screech about all your irrational fears the entire way back.”
“You think they’re irrational?! You-you’re right! That must make me seem so!—“
“Your book. Tell me about it,” he interrupted, making a mental note that he shouldn’t mention the fact that she was afraid of anything either.
Bernadetta suddenly paused her stride, cheeks growing a bit red. She hugged her book tight to her chest, as if debating whether to answer. “Oh, it’s nothing, really… Just, um… something I wrote. I-I mean, I’m no author!
“You must take yourself seriously enough that you’re willing to share it with others,” he mused flatly, eyes still glued to the end of the hallway. “Why not share it with me?” He spared a slight glance through his peripheral, noticing Bernadetta’s surprised expression as she looked up at him.
“I mean… yeah, sure..! If—If you’re offering, I guess I…” She gulped, gaze dropping to her feet. “It’s about a knight, and she’s brave and strong… Not scared of anything at all. And—um, she has to save a prince. The prince is—well, he’s capable, but… his parents don’t respect his wishes. He just—he just wants to leave the throne and not deal with royal duties, and things like that… But they got sep—separated, so it's about her journey back to him.” Bernadetta nearly smiled, yet it dropped just as quickly as it arrived, her face paling. “Oh no. I’m sorry for—I’m sorry for rambling so much! You probably didn’t w—want me to go that in depth!!”
Felix raised a brow yet again, head tilted as they turned a corner. “It sounds… cliché. But it could be worse.” He internally chastised his own rudeness when he noted Bernadetta’s lower lip quivering, quickly changing his opinion. “I mean, it’s… fine. It’s good. It’s very… alright, I guess. I would like to… read it, if you’d let me.”
“Read it?!” She echoed worriedly, but immediately snapped her mouth closed, watching Felix quirk a brow. It seemed he was having a difficult time keeping up with her ever-changing mood. She looked around, noting that they had arrived at her dorm and paused. With a start, she quickly sat down in front of the door. “Um.. Okay. I’m–I’m sitting down. And I have the… the book. And I’m-gonna-give-it-to-you-and-not-freak-out-and-you’re-probably-going-to-not-like-it-but-it’s-fine-because-I’m-not-freaking-out!” She squeezed her eyes shut, shoving the book into his palms as he sat down beside her.
Felix blinked a few times, silently opening the story to a random page—not realizing it was unfinished, so all he saw was blank parchment. He tried again, flipping to an earlier portion, which appeared to be a flashback to when the knight served under the prince before their separation.
…The Knight had long since drawn her blade, her stance widening to accompany the added weight of her large sword. She was fierce off the battlefield just as much as she was on it, and struck down the training dummies with unrivaled skill. Sweat glinted from her brow as steel cleaved downwards, splintering the wood haphazardly. With a final exhale, she sheathed the sword, turning to a figure approaching through the training ground’s marble columns.
“I don’t often receive guests this late,” she said as the Prince came into the dim candlelight, meeting his gaze. He wasn’t joined by his usual retainers, but he rarely followed rules of what was expected of him.
“Forgive me, but I found myself unable to sleep.”...
Felix looked up from the book, meeting Bernadetta’s incredibly wide gaze. It seemed she was watching him expectantly, knees drawn up to her chin.
“You hate it!” She suddenly cried.
Felix leaned back slightly, utterly confused. “I didn’t even say anything yet—”
“Then what are you—why are you making that face?”
“That’s just how my face looks,” he muttered defensively, though made a conscious effort to unknit his furrowed brow. When Bernadetta averted her eyes apologetically, he sighed. “It’s… fine. You have good handwriting,” he relented, “but this part is incorrect. Swords are made to be lightweight, not clumsy and heavy. If you change it so she’s lighter on her feet, it’d be… good.”
“I knew it! I don’t know why I—wait. R-really?” She asked, suddenly pausing her erratic squeaking. She tilted her head a bit, as if lost in thought. “Um… I never held a sword before, so…”
Felix set the book down in his lap, his free hand moving to the sheath at his belt. “...Here. You can see for yourself if you wa—”
He could scarcely even get the sentence out before Bernadetta yelped, dashing into her room in the blink of an eye. She was so fast, in fact, that Felix didn’t even have the reaction time to notice her leave, only interrupted by the sound of her dorm door shutting.
“...Bernadetta?” He asked, standing up with the book in hand. His gaze dropped to his sword, then back up to the door, lips pursed in a thin line. Right. Rookie mistake on his part to try and give her a sharp object. “Bernadetta, you left your book out here.”
After a few moments of waiting, Bernadetta slowly opened the door just enough to stick her hand out, palm outstretched to receive her story.
The raven-haired boy exhaled deeply. “Look. If you want help with this swordfighting thing, I’ll be training after our lecture tomorrow. As long as you aren’t screeching the whole time, and you just sit and watch… you can join me.”
Bernadetta seemed to hesitate a moment, then gave him a nervous thumbs up.
Felix sighed, placing the book in her hand. He watched as she quickly retracted her hand, shutting the door hastily and retreating to the confines of her room for the evening. Well… that was weird. Did he really just offer to meet with her again? That’s… unlike him. Though, he found himself not entirely hating the idea as he resumed his walk down the hall, turning a corner.
“Felix, there you are! I was just looking for you! How did everything go? I hope it wasn’t too big of a hassle that I couldn’t make it. Just got caught up in the dining hall, you know how it is. Good food with a pretty lady really makes you lose track of ti–... Uh… Why are you looking at me like that?”