Chapter Text
There’s a scent of wet grass in the air.
It had been weeks since they survived the flames of Duscur. Countless soldiers lost their lives against axes and dark magic. Multiple animals screeched in pain at being burnt alive in a matter of seconds. Yet, the prince is here, in front of his mother’s abandoned tomb that receives the proper treatment it deserves at long last. The one woman that loved his father unconditionally, the one woman who gave her life for her child fifteen years ago.
A single, forlorn and icy blue stares at King Lambert. He betrayed the memory of his mother, and all for that wretched witch that tried to kill them both. That horrendous monster that was once called Patricia, now lies inside a brig, being slowly devoured by rats.
That’s what she deserves. Dimitri thinks with a smile.
Young hands prop a bundle of lilies, since his father’s knees were too powerful and proud to kneel.
“It’s a blessing that we can be here again.” Lambert says under a whisper, propping a hand over Dimitri’s shoulder.
“Within this broken world, there’s nothing that’s achievable with blessings.” Dimitri says numbly. His father brings him closer.
“Don’t say such things, Mitya.” Lambert pleads softly, “The goddess never wishes for misfortune.”
“She’s absent then.” Dimitri is not blinking. How else is he supposed to feel after losing all his friends on that battlefield? Squires, knights, people who took care of him as family instead of treating him like a prince. “That’s why she ignored Glenn’s arm as it flew off his body. That’s why she looked away as an arrow sliced my eye. Sothis is an unkind goddess, father.”
Dimitri moves away from his father and looks at him with scorn, “You have no right being here. Let my mother, and the rest of the dead, sleep without burden.”
The king is left alone with his regret.
The library has a scent of ale. Dimitri spends his free time training his eyesight, always having half of the nothingness. His uncle Rufus spends more time with him now, and he actually likes his company despite the strength of his breath. His uncle may be a Holy Knight too, but he is not a devotee of Sothis. It fits somehow with his character. He swears fealty to other goddesses, though faithfulness is not something that his drunk uncle has ever mastered.
Ever since the king and prince returned alive from the Tragedy, Rufus has been less coarse with his family. He wonders if that had anything to do with the fact that Fhirdiad’s advisors had accused him of being part of the conspiracies against the king; which Lambert ruled as simple dastard gossip against his dear brother. Dimitri’s best guess is that Rufus was re-born that day, and it shows since the man didn’t stop visiting them now.
“Goddess Arianrhod is a beauty, isn’t she? ” Rufus reads a text in an old language the prince can’t grasp just yet, at least when written. He messes with Dimitri’s short hair as he sits by his side. “ Pale skinned, fair-haired Goddess. The large wise owl which perceives into the dark depths of the human soul, and crushes a murder of crows with her powerful talons to prevent misfortune. She who in shadow devours and abuses her children—” Dimitri lets out a small mumble, something about being too old for nudgies before he moves the hand away. “—Shh, I’m reading to you,brat! She who in light loves her children unconditionally, graces us with moonlight, who teaches us how to weave and gives our people the chance to create life; weaving our fates and time with silk webs before carrying us to the heavenly Northern land once we depart from life. A free-spirited Goddess who is not prepared to bend to anyone’s expectations of her."
Dimitri stares at the fair maiden in the scriptures. Beautiful, light hair. Gentle curves across her body that are hugged by ivy. A lovely smile that’s just as white as her gown.
“Well, I’ll be.” Rufus closes the book on him, and the prince recoils on his seat. “So this is what it takes to awaken that side from you, hm? Naughty little princeling.” He shakes a finger in front of his face, rejoicing on how his nephew’s shoulders hunch. “I don’t blame you, lad. A nurturing woman that gets quite vindictive with you, should you wrong her, sounds like a fun time.”
Dimitri studies his uncle’s face before returning to the texts. Before long, Rufus has fallen asleep on his chair, snoring like a loud bear during hibernation.
His fingers gloss over Arianrhod’s form, before leaving the library in a rush. He needs privacy.
The west of Faerghus tries to rebel against the crown. His father is too weak to defend his rule and people. The crown prince serves in duty and loyalty; for nobody would harm his family ever again as he breathes. Goddess Arianrhod punishes children who abandon their parents, after all.
All of them fall with the swift play of his lance and bend easily with a snap of his wrists. No unloyal lord deserves mercy, certainly not beasts that wear human faces. He laughs deeply and in glee, for that day he’s not a victim for them or even for Goddess Sothis. He’s free in Arianrhod’s hands.
This thought crumbles as he finds a small locket between a monster’s fingers, caked with mud and spew. He takes it and looks at what's inside. His chest aches at seeing a lock of light hair, and an image of Arianrhod.
“You…you monster.” Felix’s frightened,then angry voice whispers behind him. “What have you done to these people?”
Dimitri doesn’t eat that night, less stays with his soldiers. He has failed his people.
Within a dream, Dimitri hears the soft lullaby of a woman. Gentle, caring and so warm. Forgiving. All an illusion that grows from the depths of his delusions, or so he wants to believe.
If you’d trust and give life to me, then you'll be rewarded for all time as my devotee. Breathe, quickly lad, wake. For a love so true I shall deliver among a river’s glimmer should you no longer stray away from your people and land.
Dimitri wakes up, crying.
Dark winds howl in between the proud mountains of Fhirdiad, though moonlight graces over the horizon, and keeps company to lone wolves. Within the king’s chamber, Blaiddyd descendants observe the endless sea of snow that falls over their people, soothed by the time they can share with each other. Endless lines of parchment and refreshments adorn their tea table.
Three years have passed since that fateful day in Duscur, and Dimitri wonders how his father can stay standing. From the other side of the table, he can truly see what the Tragedy has taken from his father—strength, hope, trust. While the flames and the death of countless soldiers left a mark, he’s certain that Lady Patricia’s and Cornelia’s betrayal was a wound that just couldn’t heal in the king’s heart.
The love of his life had wished for their deaths, with a long-time advisor being the one to connect all the threads and make that wish possible. Such pain brought constant sick days and many sleepless nights for his father. Dimitri still cannot fathom why Lady Patricia would hate them so, less fight against the thought that perhaps he is to blame for being such a horrible son.
Both women are now dead, sleeping below an endless land of snow after the king’s court found them guilty of treason and attempted regicide. The empire cared little for both, deeming them traitors for leaving their country behind and serving under the Blaiddyd family. However, the threat of war is always latent between their countries—may it be by Imperial loyalists who desire to see the Empire control the entire continent once more, or just the Emperor’s court devising a way to avenge one of the many consorts that Ionius von Hresvelg IX has.
Dimitri feels nervous at meeting Edelgard once again; though he can’t say traveling with Felix will be a treat either, not when his friend still blames him for Glenn’s missing sword arm and despises what he did in that skirmish two years ago. Sylvain and Ingrid are joyous for their reunion, at least that’s reassuring.
Older now, he understands that he was harsh with his father in front of the queen’s tomb.
“Securing a princess is paramount for this country. One of your duties as Crown Prince is to find a compatible partner that has the nation’s best interests, and that will bear healthy children with our family’s blood. The civil war has left a clear gap of unrest in our bloodline. We need to reassure our followers that the Blaiddyds has deep roots across every county, and that no danger shall befall upon them as long as Areadbhar has a master.”
“Is violence the only way we can keep this country safe?” Dimitri bites, but looks down once his father stares at him with a hurt expression. “Forgive me... I understand.” Dimitri says softly. His chin falls, staring at his reflection upon a golden drink that King Lambert has prepared for both. The end of the year is among them, and soon the prince will need to depart from his birthright in order to attend the most elite military academy on the entire continent, Garreg Mach Monastery. However, as Crown Prince of the Holy Kingdom, he has an obligation to attend in order to foster the strong bond that connects The Church of Seiros with his country.
“A knight of Faerghus will always lift a sword and shield for the people. Words are not enough to quell those who desire power.They care little if they must trample over the weak and young.” Lambert keeps scribbling on parchment. Taking care of the last letters of the day, but his son’s silence disturbs his heart. “You’re a smart boy. This is a reasonable time to search for a partner, one that you have genuine feelings for. I was exactly your age when I met your beautiful mother.” He eases their conversation, “Ah, Meredith, she had the best swinging arm in the whole academy! I truly believe that your lance play comes from her and not me. You just got my clumsy strength. Don’t tell Gustave I said that. ” He looks at him with a kind smile, reaching a hand between them until he can lift his son’s face with the tip of his fingers. Feeling sullen when a black eyepatch meets his way, always now. The cost of surviving The Tragedy of Duscur, together. He would give both of his eyes to him if Sothis were to appear and perform a miracle. “You're very handsome, just like your father. I’m certain you will have no trouble finding the one in the monastery.” He winks.
“Tad!” Dimitri pulls away from his touch, a deep blush adorning his cheeks, unable to stay mad at his father. “Here I thought Uncle Rufus would be the worst of my worries. He’s more excited about escorting me to Arianrhod than my friends and I are about leaving for the open road, combined.”
“That sounds like your uncle, all right! Hah!” Lambert bursts out a laugh, but soon a dry cough attacks his throat and leaves him feeble. Dimitri frowns, standing up and going towards him, trying his best to soothe his father’s back.
“That’s enough, I’m not a small child that needs a burp.” Lambert flaunts his hand, but keeps Dimitri close to him, with sudden, tired eyes. “Mitya, promise me you will listen to my words. I don’t want to part from this world without seeing a strong, loving partner beside you…I wish to hold at least my grandchild once.”
“Father, please, don’t speak that way. You have much bark to give just yet!” The prince runs a hand through Lambert’s dry, bristly hair. All selfishness leaves him. It’s his duty as prince and son to help his father and kingdom. “You really are not making this journey an easy one for me. I promise on my honor and lance, that I shall try... courting someone in the monastery.”
Lambert smiles, “Don’t forget your kindness and bravery.” Lambert sets a hand over Dimitri’s chest, “Your kingdom and partner, also need this. My, with that rough exterior that you have, you might unintentionally leave no candidates for that Sylvain boy. ”
Dimitri just cringes with a smile, feeling overwhelmed with his father’s teasing and honesty. “Please, having two womanizers in my life is already embarrassing.” Of course, his heart already belongs to the kingdom. Honestly, it’s a lark that he may be successful in obtaining a strong connection in the monastery. A year can’t possibly be enough to leave a print in your skin, less on your soul.
Even so, that promise he received from goddess Arianrhod gives him hope.
The trip towards The Silver Maiden had been pleasant if you could ignore Felix’s exasperated sighs and Glenn’s tiny chortles.
“I can’t believe Lam— His Majesty is really ordering me to not assign a bigger gambit for you. Has he not learned his lesson?” Rodrigue dreads as he reads Lambert’s letter by Arianrhod’s gate. “It’s a five-day trip from here to reach the monastery, and that’s if the weather permits it. Surely, you see that having at least one Warp master is a necessity.”
“Your Grace, let the lads and lady go. We were all their age once. You don’t plan to rob them of the beautiful scenery, do you? They deserve to see more than snow and horse drops on the roads!” Rufus intercepts beside him, “They managed our resources fantastically on our way here. Besides, if they encounter any trouble, they have Glenn and his hawk with them.” He plays with his short beard and looks at the knight.
“Lord Rufus…” Rodrigue stares in bewilderment.
“No harm shall befall them. I swear it. This hand still crackles a nasty thunder and miasma.” Glenn nods with a small smile, lifting his hand over his chest as he adjusts on the seat of his dark horse. “I fear for any bandit who tries to score a free meal with us. My little hawk pecks roughly, my lord.” He looks at Ingrid with a small smirk, enjoying how she keeps adjusting the saddle on her pegasus, completely oblivious. “She demands quite the haul at dinner time, however.”
Ingrid lifts her eyes when she notices a small silence, and everything goes hot since Glenn is giving her a look. “Glenn!” She slaps his leg and walks away, fumbling on every step towards the drinking troughs.
“On second thought, give us a gambit and keep Glenn.” Felix groans at his father, sitting inside the wagon that had all their equipment. He adjusts a bow over his shoulder. “He’s insufferable.”
“That was good, that was good! Oh, she is pissed!” Sylvain states excitedly.
Glenn ignores Sylvain, for now. “All of them have done well in their training drills. His Highness’ noble command was successful and even praised by his soldiers during the western rebellion over Kleiman's territory. He’s more than capable of leading us well, and safely, to the monastery.”
“Hmph. Slaughtering surrendering villagers is considered a performance that exudes nobleness?” Felix says distantly, gaining a look from everyone except Dimitri. He huffs with gritted teeth, lying down on the wagon and settling to ignore everyone.
Rodrigue sighs, refusing to bite the bait. He gives in against their request, wishing them a safe trip as all of them leave together by daylight.
Dimitri rode quietly for half a day, with darkness nesting inside his lone blue.
There’s still a day to reach the monastery, and they have depleted their food supply. Dimitri doesn’t know what to do about this situation, except walk beside his horse since none of them can put too much pressure on their companions, less they want to drag noble, war-born beasts to exhaustion and death. The pebbles of the road are doing a number on his feet, but not more damage than the fires of Duscur have already managed.
“No harm shall befall them, you said.” Felix says with gritted teeth, walking alongside Dimitri. Everyone has been wearing the same traveling clothes for days now, and it shows. “Who needs a Warp expert, you said.”
“Felix, Glenn is hardly the one to blame for this!” Ingrid immediately defends, looking at Sylvain with a soft glare. “He wasn’t the one who had a few drinks with some random women while we were out hunting!”
“How was I supposed to know they were thieves!” Sylvain recoils behind his horse, or else Ingrid’s eyes would kill him. He holds down to a torch as he walks ahead, trying to pierce the small fog that screws over with their view. “They were too beautiful to be thieves!”
“We are lucky they couldn’t take the horses!” Felix fixes his hair. “Ha, you know what? It’s the boar’s fault!” Felix points dismissively at Dimitri, “He was the one who left Sylvain in care of our belongings!”
Dimitri allows himself to laugh since in the past days he’s only been thinking of retribution against those FILTHY rats. “I cannot disagree with that.” He scratches his cheek, calming the itchiness on his stubble.
“Damn right.” Felix scoffs with a smile.
“Hey, come on!” Sylvain protests. ‘What was I supposed to do?”
“Keeping your needs in check would have been a good start.” Glenn finally intervenes and sighs, rubbing his neck as the weather here is certainly warmer, yet still crisp, due to the fog. “There’s no use in bickering. We’re already in Garreg Mach’s territory. It won’t be long before we pass the monastery’s large farms and cattle houses.”
After a few seconds, Glenn chortles, “I can’t believe I had to inform my father that all of you need new uniforms and supplies. We must stay alert for any other incident. If anyone else robs us of the little we have left, they should attempt to do so now.”
“We can throw Sylvain as bait.” Felix suggests. “He can arrive at the academy with nothing but his underclothes.”
“Agree.” Dimitri and Ingrid say unanimously, and their friend sighs in despair.
“Give me breathing ground here. At least His Highness won’t have to wear that ugly uniform that his uncle got for him. That golden embroidery that was on the chest? Nasty! Who the hell thinks golden gauntlets look good?”
“I wasn’t the only one who hated those things?” Felix asks curiously. Everyone laughs.
Dimitri tightens his hold on the reins after a while. He prays that he still gets any type of gauntlets. He feels too vulnerable by just wearing riding gloves. “Prepare yourselves. We must listen to Sir Glenn’s advice. Everyone, stay alert!”
Everyone nods, but then Ingrid stops abruptly and gasps.
“Ing, you okay?” Sylvain asks with concern.
“Do you... not smell that?”
“Smell what?” Glenn gives her a look.
“That!” Ingrid points in a certain direction.
“Yes... There’s something in the air that smells delicious.” Dimitri nods,“Definitely something with cheese.”
“Are you two hound dogs now?” Glenn says, “It may be the bandits having a nice feast with our supplies. We better get out of here.”
To the knight’s dismay, Ingrid had already taken to the air, while Sylvain and Felix had gone into the forest on horseback, together. They’re left like abandoned pauldrons in the corner of a blacksmith’s shop. “They never told me knighthood was being a babysitter part-time.” He blows away a few wavy strands from his face and gets on his horse, too. “Your Highness, may I suggest adding more authority to your future orders?”
“Denied.” Dimitri says simply, enjoying how Glenn gives him a small smile before they rush together after their friends. The sight that greets them after almost a ten-minute chase is odd, but welcoming. There are tall torches stuck to the ground by the river, and a bundle of children skipping rocks over the water. The scent of fish, cheese, and pumpkin is stronger now, but there’s also the presence of a few adults who chatter and give their thanks to the one who has given them a free meal. Modest tents stand strong nearby, where a knight’s gambit drinks ale and guards all those present, but they are also offering free meals to Sylvain’s worn horse.
There are enormous cauldrons heating water by stone walls, with burning logs beneath. Two priestesses stand by the fire of a much smaller cauldron set near the river, and also a bewitched Ingrid that can’t stop staring at the large soup that is simmering slowly inside; Felix eventually grabs her and takes her away from the food once she’s given a plate.
Dimitri’s attention stays on the woman that’s carefully stirring the soup. She looks far younger than what a bishop from the Church of Seiros should be, but her white vestments are unmistakingly ordained and well detailed. A tall hat with blue details frames her round face beautifully, and the large white veil that connects with a small golden chain on her forehead hides from prying eyes all hair. The beautiful maiden is smiling with warm cheeks, with lips that have the color of his favorite berries. She’s staring with two gentle greens at a child that has returned with an empty wooden bowl.
Her hands are delicate, but as she returns a well-served meal to the child, he can see worn-out calluses and burnt fingertips. The hands of a holy knight that has plunged cold justice by a sword or with fire casting. There’s no ring on her promise finger, and that ignites something low and indecent in his heart.
Somehow, her eyes found his deep, vivid blue. That shocks his entire body, more when she’s not looking away. Instead, a mesmerizing smile sets on her face as she waves at him.
“Your Highness?” Glenn calls.
Dimitri feels free again, unwillingly. He looks at his knight, who’s now giving him a doubtful look.
“Apologies, sire. I had to ask if we should approach. They seem to be one of the Church’s caravans that offers meals and warm baths to the villagers of this area. I understand if we step aside, considering our... embarrassing status. We can ask the others to bring us a meal and assist our horses.”
“Sir Glenn, I can’t believe you.” Dimitri glares and his voice goes stern, “You insult the altruist labor these people bring to the less fortunate. There’s nothing embarrassing about needing assistance. However, if you find the situation unbearable, I shall take in all shame. That is my duty as your prince.” He gallops ahead, ignoring Glenn’s further input.
“Welcome.” One priestess goes near him. “Oh, you poor thing. You are far more worn out than what your friend Fefe told us. Look at those dark circles around your eye. Let sister Sitri take care of you, hun.” She says sweetly, taking the reins from Dimitri’s horse once he gets off.
“Fefe?” Dimitri asks puzzlingly, giving a look to Felix, who attempts to melt his brain by the large fires. Sylvain is laughing at him while Ingrid is too invested in the soup. “Sister, thank you. I feared that we would have to sleep in foreign woods with no shelter for us or our companions. We have little now, but I’m willing to sign a promise of payment.”
“Your name must carry a heavy burden. Are you Dimitri?” She gives him a smile when he nods. “That soldier by the river must be Glenn, then. That pegasus girl has told us briefly what transpired. My husband is already preparing to set off in search of those thieves.” She gestures towards a tall man that was inside a tent with open flaps, discussing a map with a few soldiers. “It’s common that they roam these areas when the school year is about to start. Try to give him more information before he leaves. He has a good knack for finding things. You don’t need hunting dogs with him around. ” She lifts a hand, “There’s no need for payment, dear. The goddess’s plentiful bounty gives everything here. We simply offer it ready for you. Besides, as knights of the Church of Seiros, it’s our obligation to take care of our students.”
It was nice to hear the lack of his title, though he should have expected that their status as nobles would be a given. “Still, I must insist after all that you will do for us.”
“Faerghans really do not enjoy having debts, hm? If it will ease you, then I thank you for your future donation, whatever you may give.” Sitri lets out a gentle laugh. “I pray for your kind heart, my boy. Let me tell you a small secret, my daughter can never leave the monastery’s lands. Why not share with her a story as you get yourself a meal.” She looks towards the back before setting her eyes on Dimitri again, “I’ll go look if we have clean clothes for your size.” She walks away, clicking her tongue to ease the horse near the others.
He offers a curt bow. Now that Sitri is gone, he can’t deny the obvious relationship between her and the alluring lady that stands by the fire. Dimitri is having one issue now, and it’s that he doesn’t know how to approach the bishop without acting like a fool. He has no plate, so perhaps securing that would be his first worry. Maybe, he should go near his companions to discuss their plans before settling down here. Glenn hasn’t given up on staying away from prying eyes—
“Oi, blond boy.” The bishop calls, monotone yet her eyes host starlight despite the fog.
His skin bristles as he jumps slightly. He points at himself, bashfully.
She smiles just like before, and his soul is really gone now. It’s ridiculous at this point but he doesn’t question this light feeling that’s edging a small voice in his mind. She’s a woman that has sworn devotion and purity to Goddess Sothis, but the timbre of her voice is so soft and deep, and he desires that only for him in the near future. After all, goddess Sothis has taken so many things from his hands—it’s her turn to surrender something to him.
He prays that feeling captivated by a holy woman is not a crime in the eyes of the great Moon goddess, in general. She’s the only deity that he cannot fail.
“Come now, you must be hungry. I promise my food isn’t terrible.” She uses her wooden ladle to point at the priestess that was cutting vegetables over an old tree trunk, besides her, “Not like Flayn’s, mind.”
Flayn lets out a loud gasp. “Oh, that’s rude! Don’t listen to her!” She turns to see Dimitri. “She’s exaggerating.”
“It’s only fair to warn before you take advantage of him.” The bishop quips, and with the ladle deviates a soft stroke from a knife.
‘We’ll see who’s laughing when my brother gets notified of your very rude speech towards me and those present here, Byleth. You know Seteth hates it when you talk like a mercenary!” Flayn hums and stabs the tree trunk, going towards the children instead.
Byleth. Beautiful. He has to bite his tongue to not roll out the name.
Dimitri blinks at the interaction until it’s over. All tranquility returns when he’s offered a full plate. “Ah, many thanks.” He takes it carefully from her hands, even if her eyes were piercing right through him now, studying his profile in a way that his toes curl. “I must say, and I hope I do not insult you, but you’re the youngest bishop I’ve ever met on the road...well, in general, it’s odd to see bishops away from their cathedrals.” He offers a short bow, “Thank you for all your hard work and dedication.”
Byleth just gives a short nod. “There’s no need. Goddess Sothis once lived among her children and took care of them without fail. Heroes are never born from happiness, and everyone deserves a home where they come back to a warm meal.”
Dimitri can’t hold in the scoff at the mention of Sothis. Even if he tries, “Even those who are vile miscreants, your excellency? Does Goddess Sothis enjoy seeing her children suffer?”
“The goddess leads all but doesn’t control us." Byleth withstands his stare, "We all have a will and an undefined purpose. There’s no constant evil or purity in people when the world has strife in it. I'm not...above my people's struggles." She says calmly, settling the ladle over the pot's ledge, "My duty as a healer is to mend and protect, not judge and destroy.”
Dimitri can just stay still and listen, lost in her kind eyes.
"Hm, you’re turning pale. Have I offended you?”
Dimitri sways his head, “No, you just have given much to think about.” He smiles weakly. "An honest conversation is naturally uncomfortable. Believe me, you have given me a favor instead of a wrongful time."
“I'm glad I didn't overdo it. I know living can be a burden for us who have chosen a blade, for time tends to capture us in unforgiving tears, but I have learned not to bend to the will of everyone’s expectations. Not even from the goddess’.”
He’s speechless.
“You seem to have much on your mind. If there’s anything that keeps you restless, please, come this way. I do not sleep early myself... not when there are many stories for the travelers to share.”
He softly laughs. “I see.” He turns to see his friends that are still bickering, and returns to Byleth’s neutral face. “I must confess that your open approach is refreshing, and...soothing. Would you allow me to share this meal with you?”
Byleth responds by clearing everything away from the tree trunk, though the knife has to stay in her hands. “Take a seat, though I usually ask for travelers to share any details from their journeys. It’s insightful, and frees my spirit with knowledge.”
“I’d be honored.”
Jeralt stretches after speaking with a young knight for a few minutes. He will depart as soon as he gives his wife a goodbye kiss, and smacks his kid across that big, thick head of hers. Before he can leave the tent, Sitri enters and gives him a tight hug.
“Well, what do you know? How kind of you to come into my arms instead.” Sitri slaps his chest softly, but he doesn’t even recoil. “What’s with that look?”
“Jeralt, you must see!” Sitri moves away from him and tries not to be too obvious at where their attention should be at. “Look at her, she’s been talking non-stop with that young man.”
“Oh no, not another one of these.” Jeralt sighs and rubs his eyes. “When will the church give her the ring that asserts her celibacy?”
“Lady Rhea has already done so. Byleth is not wearing it right now.”
Jeralt gives his wife a look, but then stares at the young man a moment longer. He seems...familiar. “Hmm...she does seem quite yappy right now. Tell me, these kids arrived with horses right?”
“Yes, very healthy. Dimitri’s is the most beautiful. It’s been so long since I saw a Fhirdiad steed. I’m weak for chestnut bodies and thick fur.”
Jeralt would have fallen for his wife’s flirt had his mind not connected the dots at hearing that name. “Blond hair, eyepatch on the right, Fhirdiad steed, 1-handed knight...Oh fucking shit that’s His Highness!”