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Chapter Text

The sun hung high in the sky in the makeshift camp for the Faerghus troops. Morale was high, with the Blade Breaker and the Ashen Demon having been hired as allies. Most soldiers were glad to no longer have to face the fearsome mercenaries in battle. Jeralt had been able to assimilate quickly with some old comrades in the Knights of Seiros, despite keeping his distance from the clergy.

Byleth didn't find herself quite belonging with her new allies quite yet. Most kept their distance unless they found her at the training grounds. Very quickly she had learned that she enjoyed teaching the soldiers various ways to improve their techniques, and more often than not, she started to find herself training a class of sorts. Her thoughts and emotions had begun running wild, even if only her father noticed. It was unnerving, yet somehow familiar.

Today, however, the training grounds were empty, except for one other lost soul. Dimitri, Tempest King of Faerghus, was swinging a practice lance at dummies and invisible enemies. Byleth found herself watching him intently. His strength and skill were obvious to anyone, but Byleth could tell something was...off in his stance, but it wasn't something she could know for certain simply watching him.

Dimitri felt eyes upon him and turned his head. He was sure no one else would come to the training grounds at this particular hour, yet the Ashen Demon stood watching. Curiosity filled her calm, almost cold eyes, her head tilted as she observed. The king opened his mouth to speak, but could not utter a word before she sprung to action.

Byleth grabbed a training sword and effortlessly leapt over the fence that separated them. "Care for a spar, Your Majesty?" Her voice was calm and collected, obviously evaluating her new employer.

"If you wish," Dimitri turned his body to face her. "Though I must warn you, my bloodline has gifted me with immense strength."

"So has mine," Byleth slowly came to a fighting stance. "Hold nothing back."

Quickly, Byleth made the first attack, aiming for the king's side. He dodged and made a strike of his own, holding back as to not be lethal. She did not dodge, instead blocking his strike with little effort.

"I said," she kicked him, knocking some of his breath from his lungs. "Hold nothing back."

Dimitri was stunned for a moment, eyes wide. Most would be overwhelmed by even his most controlled blows, much less be able to easily brush it off.

"If you insist." A smirk crept onto the king's face, the cruel boar Felix spoke of beginning to overtake him.

The pair continued to spar. Each time Dimitri came close to an advantage, Byleth pushed back and remained unharmed. The sound of lance and sword clashing rang out for no one to hear in the empty grounds, the only sound save for their grunts and breathing.

Dimitri found himself flat on his back, the Ashen Demon standing above him. Her dulled sword was pointed to his throat, with her nearly emotionless, mint eyes piercing him instead.

"I..." he took a deep breath. "I yield."

Byleth nodded and sheathed her sword before extending a hand to him, a show of good sportsmanship. Dimitri hesitated before taking her hand, only to be forcefully yanked to his feet by this deceptively strong woman.

"You fought well," she began, her cool voice betraying kindness. "But you rely too much on your brute strength. That probably serves you just fine against most enemies, but it won't against someone with more strength or skill." She paused for a moment, thinking. "Or an opponent with a greater will to survive. Your Majesty, what are you fighting for?" Her words left her quickly, as if she needed to speak before her mind could stop her.

"For my people," The reply was practiced, automatic. "For Faerghus. For those who have fallen."

"Hm." Byleth frowned slightly, thinking. "That sounds more like an obligation than a reason. Is that what you live for?"

"I suppose," Dimitri sounded unsure. "In truth, I'm not sure what you're asking of me."

"May I speak plainly, Your Majesty?" Byleth waited for him to nod before continuing. "When we're on the battlefield, I get the sense you don't care much for your survival. Like you're waiting for the day you'll be struck down." Once again, she tilted her head slightly, resting a hand under her chin. "Or am I wrong?"

Dimitri's eyes widen slightly from shock, shaken to his core. How could this sell-sword, a former enemy no less, be able to read him so perfectly? In his youth, he was known for wearing his heart on his sleeve, but as king he had put walls around himself as to not worry his citizens and allies. For the most part, these walls had served him well, yet this demon saw right through him in an instant.

"I suppose you're not too far off." He spoke quietly, averting his gaze. "I do live and fight for my people, but it is my duty to do so, an obligation as you put it. Regardless of any desires I have, that is how I must live, as king."

Byleth's expression softened, a sight few ever had the chance to see. She frowned once again, but from empathy rather than being lost in thought. "That's no way to live, no wonder your allies worry about you so much." The mercenary let out a small sigh. "Though I suppose I'm not one to talk. I fight for my father and I to survive, that's all I live for. I suppose I've taken enough of your time. Thank you for the spar, Your Majesty."

The Ashen Demon gave a small bow and turned to leave, leaving a confused and stunned king behind.

Chapter Text

"I'm sorry, I swear I will... I just need more time..."

The king muttered to himself, trying to stay as quiet as possible to not alert any other restless soldiers in the encampment to the voices only he heard, yet needing to appease them all the same. If he could just get to the chapel and lock himself in for a bit, he could gain the solitude he needed to converse with them without worrying anyone. Their voices had been screaming in his mind, their faces clear as the day they lost their lives six years prior. It did not matter that their demands made him the very thing he despised. A killer. As the sole survivor of that day, he had no right to live for himself. The family and friends he lost must be avenged.

The short walk to the makeshift chapel felt like an eternity with the screams still filling his ears. As quietly and gently as his strength allowed, he opened the door, only to discover he was not the only lost soul in the room. He could make out faint whispers, half of a frustrated conversation. The door shut behind him and he released it, startling the person in the room to stand.

"Who's there?" It was the Ashen Demon, turning to face him. Her hand was at the ready at the dagger at her waist, only to soften when she recognized the man in front of her. "Oh, its you."

Well, this was a surprise. "My apologies for disturbing you. I did not expect anyone else to be here." He tilted his head slightly. "Though I did not take you for the devout type."

"I'm not." Byleth shook her head. "I hardly know anything about the church. I just thought it would be quiet here." She appraised him in turn. "And yourself? You are the king of the 'Holy Kingdom', but I don't pin you as devout either."

"You're...not wrong." He admitted. "In any case, it is rather late to still be awake."

"I could say the same thing about you, Your Majesty." A slight bit of humor was in her voice, barely perceptible under her cool presence.

"That is true, but it is not unusual for me. Is it the same for you?"

"It...didn't used to be." Byleth looked away. "But it's been a bit more frequent recently."

"I am sorry to hear that." No one else should suffer like he does. "Are your accommodation lacking? Or are you uncomfortable among our ranks?"

"No, it's nothing like that." Byleth shook her head. "Actually, most of your allies have been more kind than I expected, and you're treating Jeralt and I better than most clients we've had. There's just been...a lot on my mind."

"Would you like to talk about it? It may ease your mind enough to get some rest." If only he could follow his own advice. But he needs to present a strong image.

"I'm not sure I can. If I discuss this with a client, I could be dismissed." She let out a sigh, a subtle loneliness flashing in her eyes. "I feel crazy just trying to put it into words for myself, regardless."

"I am in no position to call anyone crazy, I assure you," The king let out a humorless laugh. "I will not force you to speak of it, but it does worry me to see you look so troubled."

"Troubled?" She sounded almost shocked, raising a brow. "I look troubled?"

"Ah, perhaps I am mistaken-"

"No, you're not. It's just that..." She took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Only Jeralt has really ever been able to tell when I'm feeling anything. I've always been seen as emotionless. That's why I'm the Ashen Demon, after all."

"I have been curious about that title..." Dimitri mused. "It is true you do not express your emotions as much as most, but I've never seen you lacking them entirely. Although," he chuckled to himself lightly. "I could just been looking a bit too closely."

"Why?" Her quick question was blunt and direct, back to her cool persona.

"Well," He rubbed the back of his neck. "I am not often good with facial expressions, so I tend to watch other's closely to better emulate them. Also, as your 'client', would it not be better for me to understand you?"

"I'm not the one you need to get along with." Byleth gave a non-committal shrug. "That would be Jeralt. I am part of Jeralt's Mercenaries after all."

"True, although if I were to ever be a father, I'd prefer for those around me to understand my child. Not to mention how valuable you are in your own right."

That seemed to stun the demon in front of him into silence. She was observing the king intently, even closer than she had prior to that moment. It unnerved him, but he could not break the silence. Even the dead dare not speak and break her calculations.

That was a first.

"You know, I haven't been quite sure what to make of you, Your Majesty," She spoke, breaking her silence. "There's a lot of conflicting stories about you. In some circles, you're called the Tempest King, causing so much destruction on the battlefield that it's like a storm passed through. But then I hear how you wish to save as many people as possible, that you despise this violence you're so good at. Many say you're easy to get along with, but then I'm also told you keep others at arm's length. Depending on who's talking, you're either incredibly intelligent or an idiot. You're praised as being a regal and wise king, but that you're also so unlike a king that commoners assume you're a funny knight when they first meet you. And all of that is so different compared to the man I see standing before me."

"I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised by this, but it is still strange to hear how others view me..." he mused more to himself than to her. "But in that regard, I suppose we are the same. Our titles and rumors do not reflect who we are."

"I guess so." Byleth nodded before covering her mouth to muffle a small yawn. "Thanks for the talk, Your Majesty. We should both try to get a bit of sleep. See you tomorrow."

"Ah, right." Dimitri was surprised by her sudden goodbye. "Rest well, Miss Eisner."

Byleth's brows furrowed at that, almost frowning. "Just call me Byleth."

"Byleth..." He said her name slowly, giving a small nod. "Then please, call me Dimitri, as my friends do."

"Friends, huh?..." Byleth's eyes relaxed, a small smile coming to her lips at the thought. "Then, as your friend, Dimitri," She carefully said his name, her tone turning a bit more serious. "Most of your allies say you do too much. You should worry about your own sleeping habits before you fret about mine." She opened the door to the chapel, her voice trailing off as she spoke more to herself. "I already have a voice in my head doing that for me."

Before he could reply, the door shut, leaving him alone. It was quiet in the chapel, almost deafening, even within his own mind. He was aware of his own exhaustion, a yawn easily escaping him.

Finally.

"A voice in her head?" He quietly spoke to himself. "To think we have that in common as well..."

Chapter Text

"It's hard to believe this village can hold a festival in the middle of a war."

Dimitri looked down at the woman beside him as they walked into the town, a small smile creeping onto his face upon seeing her curious expression.

"It seems they've somehow been able to avoid it this far." He replied. "Any reason to celebrate is a good one. In any case, this is a perfect opportunity to obtain supplies for our troops."

"I still don't know why you brought me and not one of your vassals, like Duke Fraldarious."

"Felix?" The thought almost made the king snort. "He despises such festivities more than anyone I've ever known. Besides, you have not seen much of Faerghus, correct? I thought it would be a fine opportunity for you to experience the country I've hired you to fight for."

"I see." The Ashen Demon replied, cool and composed, even as she seemed slightly distracted.

"Oh would you just be silent and enjoy your outing with royalty?"

The childish voice was exasperated, ringing loud and clear in Byleth's mind for no one else to hear. Since being awoken a few moons before, she had grown increasingly restless, giving her vessel her own version of guidance.

Ignoring Sothis, Byleth turned back to Dimitri. "Lead the way, Your Majesty."

The comment caused Dimitri to pause. "About that..." His tone turned more serious. "While we enjoy the festivities, may I request that you refrain from using my title?"

"Very well, Dimitri," Byleth nodded. "It's not as if you hadn't asked me to refer to you be name before. Why the request?"

"Well," he began, getting sheepish. "You recall that commoners assume I am a mere knight upon first meeting me? To be honest, it is much easier to communicate with others when they do not know my status. People are less likely to say what they believe I wish to hear and will speak much more of their mind."

"I understand." Byleth gave a nod.

The village's celebration was in full swing, a spring festival with music, flowers, and smiling faces. The pair spent time observing the residents and perusing various stalls filled with artisan wares, looking for any supplies they made need back at camp.

A blacksmith caught Byleth's attention, a small hint of determination in her features as she picked up a metal chain.

"I didn't realize you had an interest in jewelry," Dimitri noted.

"It's not for me," Byleth replied as she weighed the chain in her hands. "It's for Jeralt."

"Jeralt?"

Byleth briefly glanced at the king, realizing he wanted her to elaborate. "He wears a chain like this to hold onto something precious, but it's gotten rusted lately."

"Ah, I see," Dimitri nodded in understanding. "Would it be alright if I split the cost with you? I'd like to thank you and Jeralt for your hard works. It's been a blessing having you in our ranks."

"Sure," Byleth gave a non-committal reply, but a faint smile came to her lips. "Jeralt will appreciate it. That's very kind of you, Dimitri."

"It's nothing," Dimitri placed a few pieces of gold in her palm, waving away the compliment. "Truly, it's the least I can do."

"If you say so," Byleth muttered as she handed over the payment.

The pair continued to browse, Byleth purchasing a sweet juice as they walked.

"By the way, I've been meaning to ask," Dimitri began, a thought striking him. "Why do you refer to Jeralt by name rather than 'father'?"

Byleth paused, tracing her memories. "When I first started mercenary work, some of the others assumed I was getting special treatment since I'm his kid, even though he was harder on me, if anything. So I started calling him Jeralt like everyone else did. I guess I'm just used to it now."

"I see..." Dimitri mused, almost speaking more to himself. "I never would have thought of it that way, I assumed that you inherited his strength, or that he trained you well."

"He did." She nodded, returning to her more blunt persona. "Jeralt said the guys who said it were jealous. Never really understood that."

"I'll admit that I'm personally envious of you," He added. "But that is because you still have your father to rely on."

"I am grateful for that," Byleth replied. "But you also have a group of very close friends that care for you. That's not something I've ever had."

"They could be your friends as well, you know," Dimitri gave a smile. "Who knows, they may come to enjoy your company more than a cruel man like myself."

Byleth coughed, startling the king. She had taken a sip of her drink right as he made his last statement. Dimitri was about to ask if she was alright before she quickly composed herself.

"Cruel? You?"

"Yes?..."

Byleth wore the most expression on her face that Dimitri had ever seen, and it was full-blown shock and confusion. Her eyes were wide, one brow raised, as if she had heard the most ridiculous thing in her entire life.

"We've met on the battlefield both as enemies and allies." Dimitri spoke slowly, trying to make sense of the situation. "If there's anything I've learned about you, it's that you are incredibly perceptive. I'm not sure why this is such a shock..."

"He does have a point..." Sothis's voice perked up in Byleth's mind. "You have seen his wrath first-hand. I do not understand why you are so confused."

"Anyone who calls you cruel is wrong," Her voice contained a hint of anger directed at the goddess in her head, before turning her gaze to the man before her. "Even if it's yourself. I've been on the battlefield for a long time, longer than you. I've seen cruelty. We've kicked mercs out of Jerlat's Mercenaries because I've seen it. I've seen it in your own ranks, even among your friends." Her eyes softened. "Yes, there is a darkness about you, a need for vengeance. I don't know the details, but I know the tragedy that took your family changed you. I've known mercs that sought revenge for their loved ones. Just like you. It's not because they were cruel. It's because they cared too much, and they believe in justice in an unjust world. Because they're too kind." Byleth gave a small smile. "People like that, I would try to stand with through anything, until the bitter end."

"Why?" Dimitri asked, growing desperate and confused.

"Because maybe they'll care about me too."

The king froze for a moment, stunned into silence at her words. She saw right through him to a place in his heart even he had misunderstood. This mercenary, a former enemy of one of his closest friends, a woman who had seen his destruction firsthand, calling him "too kind"?

"Dimitri, are you-"

Byleth didn't get a chance to finish her question, the wind nearly knocked out of her. Dimitri's arms wrapped around her tightly, shaking with a silent sob as he embraced her seemingly out of nowhere.

A brief moment passed. Dimitri felt Byleth's arms struggle in his embrace. He was about to release her and apologize, but instead she wrapped her own arms around his neck, returning the hug. A few villagers walked past, some giggling at the display, causing Dimitri to release her.

"My apologies," He cleared his throat, steading himself. "It's...been a long time since anyone has spoken to me like that."

"It's fine," Byleth shook her head. "Isn't that the sort of thing friends are for?"

"I suppose you're right," Dimitri's smile return. "Thank you, my friend. Let's return to the festivities, there's still much to see."

"Lead on."

Chapter Text

As the spring festival continued, a small musical ensemble arrived and began to perform. Villagers gathered near and began to dance, a smile on each face. Byleth couldn't help but stare at the sight. She had seen people dance before, but never had she felt the loneliness of being left out of the merriment.

"Do you wish to join them?"

Byleth quickly turned her head to Dimitri, startled by how he was able to accurately read her emotions. It was weird, but not unwelcome.

"I've never danced before." She shook her head, giving a blunt reply.

The king glanced back at the crowd, analyzing their movements before nodding in understanding. "This is a fairly simple dance. I'm not an expert by any means, but I would be willing to teach you if you'd like." He turned to her with a boyish smile. "I promise to not get upset if you step on my toes."

"Alright." Byleth nodded, giving away little of her nerves and excitement.

The pair walked to the edge of the crowd, close enough to watch and listen, but far enough to not disturb the dancers.

"Alright, to start, take my hands." Dimitri held both hands in front of him, waiting for her to place hers on top. "The steps go like this, you'll want to mirror my footwork." He paused, waiting for her to copy him. "That's the basics, from here we follow the rhythm of the music."

It took a few bars, but soon Byleth was able to follow his steps. With a little more time, she didn't have to look down at their feet, and looked back up to see if the king approved.

"You're doing quite well, it's hard to believe this is your first time dancing." He chuckled softly. "Much better than myself during my lessons as a boy."

"Thanks." Byleth's voice remained neutral, but she almost smiled at the praise. "It's not much different from learning footwork for swordplay."

Dimitri let out a hearty laugh, surprised. "I suppose that's true. I've never heard dancing described that way, I almost wish I had when I had to learn."

"You don't like dancing?" She almost sounded apologetic, worried she had forced him into something he hated.

"It's not dancing itself I dislike," He spoke quickly, not wanting Byleth to feel guilty. "When I had lessons as a boy, it was always in preparation for a ball or other such large, formal occasion. I've never felt at ease at events like that." Dimitri sighed. "I hate to admit it, but I dread having to attend and host such events in the future."

"I think I understand how you feel." Byleth said more to herself. "I don't think I'd be able to connect with others at something like that."

"Perhaps you'll have to join me then." Without thinking about it, he gave her hands a light squeeze. "Then it could be a bit more bearable for the both of us."

Byleth blinked, unable to respond.

"Ugh, if you are going to dance with a king, he should at least be teaching you properly."

Sothis had woken up yet again, berating her vessel with more of her "guidance". Byleth couldn't respond verbally, but glanced at her surroundings in a silent question.

"Do you not see how the other dancers stand closer together? Why must he hold you at an arm's length?" She laughed somewhat cruelly. "Then again, it is already a bit ridiculous that The Vigorous would dance with a mere vessel."

"Are we supposed to be closer together?" Byleth asked Dimitri plainly, trying to ignore the goddess in her mind.

"Oh. Um. Traditionally, I suppose." The question caught him off guard, causing him to stutter slightly. "If you're comfortable with that, I mean. I know it's your first time dancing, and-"

"You think too much." Byleth cut him off, stepping closer as she followed the dance. "If I am uncomfortable, I'll tell you. But I'd like to learn this properly."

Dimitri swallowed, nodding as if given a sacred task. "Understood. In that case..." He placed one of her hands on his shoulder before moving his to the small of her back. It was not quite the casual dance the villagers were performing, but it brought them closer together. "Is this acceptable?"

Byleth took a deep breath. Her pulse raced as if she were on the battlefield, but it wasn't unpleasant. "Yes." She could feel warmth blossoming on her cheeks, which grew more intense as she noticed his expression. "Um, is something wrong?"

"Ah, my apologies." He shook his head, trying to focus himself. "I've just never seen you smile like that before."

"Oh, am I smiling?" No wonder her cheeks felt a bit strained. "It's not something I do often. Do I look strange?"

"Not at all!" His voice came out louder than intended. Taking a breath to regain some composure, he continued. "Your smile is quite captivating. Downright beautiful."

"Oh." That caught Byleth off guard. He was so...sincere. "Thank you. Your smile right now is nice. You usually fake one to make your friends happy, but for once you look happy yourself."

"So you noticed... Your perception truly knows no bounds." Dimitri lowered his eyes, almost ashamed. "It's been a very long time since I've known what happiness would look like for me, but it's not something I wish to trouble my allies with, especially as I do not deserve it. My friends know me for the boy I used to be, rather than the man I am. It often feels as though I wear a mask, one that you see past almost immediately. It's...comforting that you still choose to speak with me, knowing that. It makes happiness easier to accept."

"I understand the feeling." Byleth replied, her smile fading. "I'm used to my presence scaring people off. I'm told I have a blank stare. Jeralt used to be the only one who could read me, even when I tried to express myself more. I had given up connecting with others for a long time. I didn't think there was a point in trying, and being hard to read makes fighting easier." A small smirk came to her, almost out of character. "So I'm glad we're friends now. I'd still kick your ass, but it would be a harder fight since you can read me."

The king laughed again, the hardest he had in a long time. "Don't count me out so easily, I'll best you one day."

"Says the man who hired me so we wouldn't have to fight." She teased. "You still haven't won a spar."

The two laughed, continuing their dance. While the conversation ceased, Byleth found herself opening up easily, despite Sothis teasing her in her mind. The realization both startled and excited her, having not grown close to others before joining the Kingdom Army. Between Dimitri and his allies, she finally had...friends, while Dimitri gained yet another thing to live for.

Chapter Text

With the defeat of the leader of the Agarthans, Garreg Mach Monastery was once again under control. The kingdom and alliance armies took a few days to rest at their old campus, reliving memories and resting for the march back to stop the remaining imperial forces.

Like many evenings, King Dimitri found himself in an office reviewing official documents, working tirelessly for his kingdom. Only a few papers left, and he could rest.

A knock at the door brought him to reality.

"Enter." He spoke, regal and more confident than he actually was.

The door opened as Byleth pushed herself into the room, carrying a tray with two bowls and sets of utensils. The smell of onion and spices filled the room, bringing a smile to the king's face.

"Byleth, it's you!" He began happily, before groaning at a realization. "And I was meant to have dinner with you hours ago." Dimitri leaned his forehead on his hand, annoyed with himself. "I am so sorry, I got carried away with my duties-"

"It's fine." Byleth cut him off before he could continue to self-deprecate himself. "I figured you were busy, so it seemed easier to bring dinner to you. Shez made it special, they said it's one of your favorites." Careful to not spill, she placed the tray on the desk, avoiding the papers. "They also said you'd better eat every bite, or they'll be consequences."

"They said that?" He chuckled. "Well I wouldn't want to incur their wrath. Thank you, and sorry again."

"Less talking, more eating." She teased lightly, digging into her portion with gusto.

Soon, a comfortable silence filled the room, save for the light clinks of the silverware as they ate their onion gratin soup. Dimitri tried to avoid staring, despite how fascinating it was to see her enjoy the food he couldn't taste. But a question burned in his mind, one he knew she wouldn't answer until he was done.

"Since you're here, there's something I've been meaning to ask you about."

Byleth, who had finished much sooner than him, gave a nod in response.

"Once the war is over, so is your contract," He began, trying to quell his nerves. "What do you plan to do after that?"

"That's up to Jeralt," Byleth was non-committal. "But probably what we usually do, head out and look for a new client. You should really be asking him though."

"I actually did earlier, but..." He let out a sigh, taking in a breath after to prepare himself. "He approved with me making you an offer. Once the war is over, would you consider returning to Fhirdiad with me? You have a talent for teaching combat, which I would like to see put to use for our soldiers and knights. I wouldn't be able to pay you as well as I am now, but you'd have your own room in the castle, as well as meals provided." Feeling his nerves return, he felt the need to add more. "Of course, you don't need to decide right now..."

"He wishes for you to return to his country?" Sothis perked up for only Byleth to hear. "The boy is smitten! It is so obvious!"

Byleth shook her head, ignoring the goddess and returning to the conversation. "Why me? I'm sure one of your allies would be just as suited, if not more so since they're not...outsiders."

"Perhaps, but they lack your talent and skill, as well as time due to their own responsibilities and endeavors."

"Are you truly going to act so oblivious?!" Sothis was nearly screaming. "Are you so inexperienced that you fail to see what he is trying so desperately to say?!"

"You know I am..." Byleth whispered to Sothis, hoping Dimitri couldn't hear. The goddess retreated, having made her point known. "Dimitri," She spoke up. "There's something you're not telling me about this."

"Your father said something similar..." He chuckled humorlessly. "I see where you learned your perception." His eyes returned to hers, nervous but resolute. "I meant what I said before, you truly are the best person for this, but... It is not the entire truth. I've really enjoyed having you at my side these past few moons. You have a comforting presence, one I would like to bring to Fhirdiad with me." One of his hands balled into a fist. "And, perhaps, if you consented, I could...formally court you?"

Byleth blinked, silently stunned.

"He wishes to wed you?!" Sothis laughed. "A mercenary with a king?!"

In his nerves, the king began speaking again. "Of course, the offer still stands if you don't-"

"You're going to have to explain that last part." Byleth was blunt, keeping her emotions in check.

Dimitri froze, before letting out a laugh. "Apologies, sometimes I forget you haven't grown up with our customs. I suppose it would be...enjoying meals with you, inviting you to balls, horserides, things of that nature? To, um, determine if we are compatible to be..." His voiced trailed off. "Married."

"Ah." Byleth looked down, thinking. "Did you mention that to Jeralt as well?"

"Yes," He nodded. "At first, he laughed at me. He said the only blessing I need is yours. That he would support anyone you deemed worthy, provided you are treated well."

"I see..." Byleth reached behind her neck. "That explains a lot..."

She took off the chain hiding under her armor, holding it in her hand to show Dimitri.

"That's the chain we got for Jeralt..." Dimitri noticed.

Byleth nodded. "This is what he kept on it."

She opened her hand to reveal a silver ring, purple jewels glittering in the soft firelight.

"Jeralt proposed to my mother with this." Byleth explained. "It's the only memento he has of her's. Apparently he's intended to give it to me for a while. He hopes that one day, after the war, I'd give it to someone I love as much as he loved her." She paused for a moment. "I never knew my mother, and Jeralt never talked much about his past, but I know he loved her very much. I'm not sure what that's like, but..." A soft smile came to her lips. "I'd be willing to try with you."

Dimitri blinked, frozen into silence at her statement, before a knock at the door brought him back to reality.

"Your Majesty, are you still awake?" The deep voice of Dedue was muffled behind the door.

"Ah, yes, come in."

Dedue opened the door, carrying a tray of his own with a teapot and teacup.

"My apologies for interrupting," Dedue was almost sincere. "But it's getting late, you should really get some rest, Your Majesty."

"It's fine, I was about to leave." Byleth stood up, walking to Dimitri's side of the table. "To be perfectly clear, I accept your offer, Your Majesty."

Acting quickly before she could stop herself, she brushed aside the hair resting on the king's forehead, planted a soft kiss there, before grabbing the tray she had brought and exiting the room.

Dimitri's eyes were wide, slack jawed for a moment before what just happened clicked. A huge smile grew on his face, barely able to believe it.

"I believe in this situation, the saying is 'I told you so', Your Majesty." Dedue chuckled as he poured the herbal tea into the cup, gently placing it in front of the king.

"Yes, you're right," Dimitri laughed before taking a sip.

"Do you want to tell the others, or should I?" Dedue kept his smile. "Either way, I believe some gold will be passing hands..."