Thunder rumbled, and Shadowstar tensed under Edelgard. He was a smart beast, whatever Ferdinand said, and he didn't like the weather any more than she did. The rainy season was long past, but afternoon showers had become a downpour. Her cloak was almost soaked through. The road, always in disrepair, was muddy where the stones had been torn up. When I have united Fódlan, I will maintain the roads. It was not an auspicious beginning to her reign. She was being silly, she knew, to ascribe any hidden meaning to a storm. Especially when she would begin casting down the false gods very soon. Still, the miserable weather and the even more miserable faces of her men made her uneasy.

Or perhaps it was merely the silence. Her professor had been chatty and joking when they had set out from the monastery, but she had retreated into herself ever since Edelgard's coronation. When Edelgard had first met her, she had wondered if the mysterious mercenary who had saved her from her own miscalculation was something other than human. There had been nothing on her face as she had single-handedly decimated Kostas' men. Edelgard had been more than a little dazzled by that. But it had been the professor who had taught her so patiently of magic and whose eyes had flashed with rage when Edelgard had told her of the torture she had endured, that had reduced her to making sketches in the margins of her notes. To see her cherished teacher regress wounded her.

She tightened her grip on the reins. It didn't matter. When she revealed herself as the Flame Emperor, indifference would be the best she could hope for.

Her captain slowed until he was walking beside her. He was about Gilbert's age and nearly as devoted to the Hresvelgs as Hubert. "Your Majesty, I suggest we take shelter soon. It's not safe for the horses to continue on in this state."

Edelgard said nothing. This patch of countryside was sparsely populated and she would rather sleep in the rain then ever step foot into the only village that could possibly find space for their retinue. "The people of Remire have suffered enough. I will not burden them further."

"Better to burden them than lame the horses. Not to mention the risk to your own health." He ducked his head and lowered his voice so that only she could hear. "We finally have a vital Emperor who can lead us to greatness. I don't wish to squander that."

He was right, blast it all. "Then to Remire we shall go. Pay double the gold to the innkeeper. I will repay them for this inconvenience." Forcing herself to see the scars her allies had inflicted would be good practice for the war. She must do terrible things to free humanity from the false gods, but as long as she didn't turn away, as long as she tried to make things right afterwards, then she would remain human.

Her captain nodded and spurred his horse back into formation, leaving her alone with nothing to do except watch her silent teacher.

New orders were shouted down the line, and soon Remire appeared over the crest of a hill. Edelgard squinted through the rain. It looked like many villages in Fódlan, with its thatched roofs and animals left to pasture. There was no sign that this was the place where those who slithered in the dark had committed an atrocity. Beside her, the professor tensed. Neither of them would forget what they had seen that day.

The villagers made their way out of their homes and shops to stare as the Imperial procession made its way towards the inn, heedless of the rain. They seemed paler and sicker than she remembered, but their eyes were bright as they caught sight of the gleaming armor of the guards. Low whispers broke out among the adults while children pointed furiously towards the professor and Edelgard. She tried not to look at them. This was doubtless the most exciting thing to happen this season, but she only wanted to change into dry clothes and be on her way back to the monastery and away from memories and a professor who had lost the power of speech.

No such luck. The spectators broke into a cheer as if they were commanded by some invisible conductor. The sound reverberated off the stones until it filled the air and smothered all other sensation. "Hooray! Hooray for our heroes! Hooray for the chosen of the Goddess!"

No. No no no no no. But they were smiling and cheering and shouting the professor's name. Her name. Because of course they would. The professor truly had saved them and now she had hair so like the depictions of Seiros' that it was uncanny. And Edelgard been eager to repay her false allies with her axe under the excuse of maintaining her cover. The villagers would be eager to hail them. Never mind that it was all a terrible lie.

At least the professor looked no more comfortable than she felt. "I'm no one's chosen one. Can't you get the guard to get us inside faster?" They were the most words she had spoken since Enbarr.

The guards must have heard and taken pity on her because they politely but firmly screened the pressing crowd and the retinue made its way with all the speed the horses could muster in this weather. It seemed to take forever, but eventually they came to a courtyard, one side of which was dominated by the largest building in the village. The sign of a boar's head hung over the door and looked freshly painted. Through the window, she could see a fire burning in the common room. Edelgard allowed herself to relax. The village had recovered nicely in only three months. Whatever she had to do to make her dream a reality, she could and would heal the scars and lead the world to a new dawn.

If anything, the interior was even more inviting. The fire chased away the cold outside, and the aroma of fish wafted through the air, reminding Edelgard that she hadn't eaten since breakfast. She cast aside her muddy cloak and it didn't even matter that they patrons were staring openly at her and her men. She was going to be warm and fed and clean.

"Is that—"

"You know, I think it is. My Rudolf said a girl with pale hair lopped off the head of a mage who had cornered him."

"And the other one...Oh by the saints, look at her hair. She really has been touched by the Goddess."

Was there nowhere where she might find peace? It would be disastrous for her plans, but part of Edelgard wished that they knew the truth. At least then perhaps small knives would stop digging into her. The professor had gone still again and looked completely miserable, and those knives within her stabbed more deeply. Please, my teacher. I'm not gone yet. Tell me what troubles you.

A large, balding man who must have been the innkeeper ran to her and threw himself to his knees. "Your Highness. It's such an honor to be graced with your presence. You and your professor. We'll never forget what either of you did for us. How may we be your humble servants?"

Years of etiquette training kicked in, and she managed to keep her face blank as she gestured for him to rise. "My men and I require stabling for our horses, rooms, and a meal. You will of course be generously compensated for the inconvenience."

"I—of course." His gaze swept over the crowd of soldiers. "There may be one small problem."

Edelgard barely resisted tapping her foot in impatience. "Which is?"

"We aren't accustomed to so many guests. You'll have to double up. Even you, I'm sorry to say, Your Highness."

Was that all? Edelgard gave him a fond smile. Being forced to share a room with one of the soldiers was nothing compared to her months in squalor beneath the palace. It would be good practice for and she was on campaign and space was at a premium. "I'm not so fragile as all that."

"Excellent!" he said with relief. "You and your professor will of course have the very best room."

Her mind stopped, and the floor seemed to vanish beneath her. Room? Professor? He wanted her to share a room with her professor. Her mouth went dry, and heat spread across her cheeks. Share a room with her professor. Lie next to her in a bed, separated only by a very thin sheet. It sounded like something she had dreamed about in her dormitory room, except they did a good bit more than just share a bed. "What?"

"It's the one we keep for our most important visitors. There's no table, so you'll have to take your supper in the common room, but at least you'll be warm."

"T—that's not necessary." The professor wrung her hands and looked around the room as if she were a rabbit or Bernadetta. "I—Her Majesty deserves...she deserves a private room. I'm a simple mercenary. I can sleep in the stable."

People were staring again. Not just the villagers this time, but her own men. It was a horrible idea to share her bed with someone who was so clearly keeping their distance, but gossip would be even worse. She couldn't look weak, not when war would surely begin within a month. And the sheer terror on her professor's face stung more than it should have. "Nonsense, Professor," she said through gritted teeth. "It would be terribly rude of us to decline."

"Of course," she said with all the enthusiasm of a woman going to her execution.

Edelgard cast aside her sodden cloak, took a seat near the end of one of the weathered tables, and tried to enjoy her fish. Her professor sat next to her, and seemed to find her food very interesting. Most of the time. She kept glancing at Edelgard when she thought she wasn't looking. And in the fraction of a moment between when Edelgard saw her and when she looked back at her food, her professor did not seem like a ghost. Her eyes were somehow dark and fiery all at once. Over Edelgard. Her father must have looked at her mother that way.

She was going as mad as her brothers and sisters. This was nothing more than the fantasy of an infatuated child afraid of losing someone she cared for. Edelgard cast about for something, anything, else to talk about. She spied one of the villagers, careworn but openly astonished by his dining companions. Well, if the villagers insisted on being so grateful, they could at least distract her. "The village seems much recovered since I was last here."

"I suppose," he said in a monotone and returned to his food. Edelgard waited for him to elaborate, but he never did.

"Don't mind Gaer," said a woman. "He's been touchy ever since the attack. His son was one of the first the mages got to, you see."

"Don't talk about my son he's some back fence gossip! I had look in to his face and stab him! Because some mage was doing an experiment!" His gaze was wild. "I suppose I should be grateful for everything you students have done but couldn't you have been a little faster? Damn that mage. Damn the Flame Emperor. Damn them all."

Oh she had been a fool. There were always going to be consequences and sacrifices in her war for a better world, but knowing that wasn't the same as being trapped with this stranger and his hopeless expression. She could give Remire all the gold in the world to rebuild, and abolish all the corrupt nobility, but she couldn't raise the dead. What else was she going to be forced to do?

Glass broke, and someone screamed, forcing Edelgard from her reverie. Sticky liquid coursed over her hand. She looked down. It was blood. She was bleeding, and there were bits of glass sticking out of her hand where she had been holding her tankard a moment before. Pain, hot and sharp, barreled past her shock. It was the least she deserved.

Her professor seized her. "Edelgard!" She muttered an incantation under her breath, and Edelgard's hand was bathed in a golden light. The pain receded, and the glass in her skin fell harmlessly away as the cuts closed up. The healing felt differently than it did on the battlefield. That was impersonal and distant. But here she could feel her professor's hand in hers, the little calluses from a lifetime of holding a sword, her long fingers, the warmth and strength of her that meant Edelgard didn't want to be anywhere else.

"We need to get you to your room," she murmured and Edelgard could only watch in a daze as she made excuses to the mortified innkeeper and led her from the room.

She made vague note of the room—spare, a slightly threadbare rug, warm—as the professor led her to bed and sat her down. "Let me see. "There was a quaver in her voice, like there was when Edelgard had had a close call on the battlefield.

Edelgard obediently stretched forth her hand. Her foolishness had left no marks that she could see. She flexed her fingers. They were a little stiff, but there was no pain. "It's all right, Professor. I was merely foolish, and you're an excellent healer."

The professor grimaced. "Before I came to the Academy, I'd hardly ever done a bit of magic. Now I'm practically Maneula. And I probably just convinced everyone down there that I am the chosen one of Sothis."

Edelgard blinked and focused. She didn't really want to think about gods that weren't gods right now, and definitely didn't want to remember what she would have to do in the Holy Tomb. "It's not your fault that these people don't normally see magic."

"It's not just them. Rhea thinks Sothis is talking to me because I have a magic sword and a Crest." She twirled a lock of her unearthly hair between her fingers. "And Sothis—well I'm not special. And I don't want to be special, not the way they want me to anyway."

"What do you mean?" Edelgard leaned forward. Her professor was talking. It was worth her foolish injury almost for that. "And of course you're special."

Perhaps it was merely a trick of the light, but her professor's face seemed to color. "Less than you think. Rhea wants me to be the second coming of Seiros or something and I just want things to be better. What those people did to you and Lysithea, it's not right. And the only people who are doing anything this are monsters." She clenched her fist. "Damn Rhea, damn the Flame Emperor and damn the things that took my father!"

Her breath came in harsh pants. Edelgard wished she was brave enough to take her hand. She wished she was brave enough to tell her everything. But she wasn't. "I'm going to do something."

"Yes, you are. You're going to go back to Enbarr and be Edelgard the Magnificent." She looked down and Edelgard felt her withdrawing into herself. "You should get some rest. I'll sleep on the floor."

Edelgard broke. She was going to lose what she loved and she felt terrible and the look on that villager's face was seared into her and it was all too much. "No!" she said loudly enough that the professor's head snapped up. "You can't go back to being a ghost! At least tell me what you've been so cold!"

"I, er..."

She looked even more like a rabbit, but Edelgard was Emperor of Adrestia and she would have answers. "Tell. Me."

The professor swallowed. Her hands shook. "Because of you. Ever since I came to the monastery, I've felt things. For you. And you're going to go away. I thought going back to the way things were would be easier if I started now. It's not working. All I can think about is how much I want to stay with you."

Edelgard opened and closed her mouth. The rational part of her mind told her the professor couldn't mean what she wanted her to mean, but her heart hammered in her ears. She had to know. "Professor—my teacher—are you in love with me?"

The professor nodded and buried her face in her hands.

Her professor was in love with her. Edelgard dug her nails into her palm, and didn't wake up. A bark of laughter escaped her. Fate had never been on her side, and so she had resigned herself to an unrequited infatuation. Except at long last, she was being granted a rare and precious gift. Why did the professor look so miserable? Didn't she know that this was the one thing Edelgard had dreamed of for herself?

She pried the professors hands away. "My teacher, my teacher," she murmured and planted a kiss to her temple. Her skin was rough from a lifetime's exposure to the elements, but it was the most exquisite feeling Edelgard had ever experienced. She pulled the professor unresisting into her lap and ran her lips over every bit of her face that she could reach. Every time the professor shivered at her touch felt like a victory.

"Edelgard." Her voice was raw. She squeezed Edelgard's uninjured hand, and Edelgard stopped at the silent command. The professor shifted and kissed her. In Edelgard's fantasies this moment had always been frantic, desperate. But the professor kissed her slowly, varying the pressure and twining her hands in Edelgard's hair and leaving her lightheaded. She tried desperately to match her movements, tracing the lines of her professors back and arms with clumsy hands.

When they broke for air, Edelgard settled herself into the crook of her neck. Her crown, her dreams, her responsibilities, they all felt very far away. She wanted nothing more than to luxuriate in this warmth forever. "My teacher," she repeated.

Her professor shifted so that they could look at each other. Her smile was sad, but genuine and her eyes no longer far away. "I think you can call me Byleth now."

"Byleth," Edelgard said, rolling the word around in her mouth as if it were a new sweet. "Byleth. This is so much better than I imagined."

"You imagined me? No one has ever imagined kissing me. At least no one ever told me. I never had much desire for romance. Now look at me, pining like a student."

"Pining? For me?" Edelgard felt unaccountably pleased with herself at the thought.

The way Byleth's ears turned red was positively endearing. "Don't look so smug. It doesn't suit you. And yes, pining. Ever since you told me about your dreams of a world without Crests or nobles. I guess I wanted a little of your fire for myself. You and your causes, you make me feel human." She ran her fingers through Edelgard's hair. "I'm glad we had this before you left. It's better than not knowing."

The breath left Edelgard's lungs. She had almost allowed herself to forget. Nothing had changed. She must go back to the monastery. She must don the Flame Emperor's armor one last time. And then Byleth would know the truth and despise her. Ah, there was the fate she knew.

Byleth kissed her once more. "You should get some rest. And now I really do have to sleep on the floor."

"Why would you—oh." Heat spread across her. She had thought about that too sometimes when she was safely alone in the dormitory, even though she had only herself and a few erotic novels one of the other students had smuggled in. She'd wondered what it would like to give herself over completely. There were a number of admirers would have been happy to show her, but only one she trusted enough to surrender control.

It was wrong perhaps, to seduce Byleth when she knew what must come after. Edelgard closed her eyes. She had spent months with only rats for company and allied with her tormentors for the sake of freeing the rest of Fódlan. She wanted this one thing for herself. Her two Crests had already ensured that she would have no future. One night of happiness was not too much to ask for. She cupped Byleth's cheek. "Stay with me tonight. Please."

Byleth blinked. "You're certain?"

"I wouldn't ask if I wasn't. I want you, my teacher."

A kiss was her answer. Byleth's tongue darted tentatively forward, and Edelgard opened her mouth by instinct. Their movements were slow and awkward and their teeth scraped together but still Edelgard felt she might burst at the seams. She broke the kiss. Byleth's hair flew in every direction. Edelgard licked her lips. If fate would only grant them one night, she was going to be greedy. She attacked Byleth's neck, lavishing her with kisses and nips and treasuring every gasp and whimper.

"I want..." Byleth choked out.

"Yes?" Anything you want. You have only to ask.

"I want to undress you."

They rose on unsteady legs. Byleth's hands shook, but she made short work of Edelgard's uniform and in no time at all, she stood in nothing but her underclothes and stockings. The room felt suddenly cold as she watched Byleth watch her with naked hunger and never mind that this storm must have made her look a fright. Her professor was peeling back the layers, and Edelgard fought the urge to cover herself. She had been stared at by everyone from her torturers to would-be suitors, but it had never mattered the way it did now. She forced herself to meet Byleth's gaze. Whatever else she was, she was not a coward.

"You're beautiful," Byleth whispered and kissed her again. Her lips traveled slowly downward across her neck and shoulders. She hesitated the briefest of moments when she reached Edelgard's upper back, and Edelgard froze. This scars were little more than faint white lines, but there was no hiding their origin. Not from Byleth. Her breath hitched as she pressed her lips to the scars.

"No," Edelgard said gently but firmly as she turned to face Byleth. "They aren't special." She reached for the top button on her uniform. "My turn."

Beautiful was not a word Edelgard would have used to describe Byleth, any more than she would have used it to describe a dragon or lightning. She was all lean muscle and her flesh was dotted with new and old scars. Edelgard ran her hands over her, possessing claiming. "You're magnificent," she breathed.

"Flatterer."

"I never flatter." She looked down. "I'm not sure how to proceed. I mean, I know what I'd like for myself but…"

"Then tell me that." Byleth's voice was a growl. "I barely know what I'm doing either. But I want—" she nipped at Edelgard's neck "—to learn what's good for you."

"K—keep doing that." Speaking was difficult. Coherent thought it was difficult. "I like you kissing me."

Her legs wobbled, and Byleth led her back to the bed. Edelgard tumbled down, and they were lost in a frantic tangle of lips and limbs. The swell of her breasts, her stomach, nothing seemed off-limits. Her entire body was alive to sensation and all she could do was gasp and try to guide Byleth's head. Byleth had wanted guidance, but everything felt so good. "More. Just like that."

Byleth moved down and planted a tentative kiss to the inside of Edelgard's thigh. She shivered. Her body was taut. She had only an academic knowledge of what came next, but she felt like a warhorse awaiting the command to charge. And yet Byleth looked up at her, uncertain. "Like this?"

"Yes," Edelgard said and guided her back down. Every swipe of Byleth's tongue was a jolt. The pleasure spiraling through her was a wild coursing thing. The day she had left her cell, she had vowed to have no master but herself, but her body seemed to have a mind of its own. But this was Byleth. Byleth who had taught her of magic and who had read every book on statecraft in the library just so they could discuss them. Edelgard could trust her, did trust her.

She let go.

It was a long time before Edelgard came back to herself. Her limbs felt delightfully heavy. Byleth lay beside her, smoothing Edelgard's hair and smiling. Edelgard smiled. She could happily stay like this for the rest of her life. "You always amaze me, my teacher."

"I had inspiration."

Edelgard kissed her and shivered at the taste. Outside, the storm raged on as hard as ever. It would be a miracle if they left by morning. Morning. What a foul word. Night should last forever so that she and Byleth could gorge themselves on each other. But she had to walk her fated path. The Flame Emperor must take the Crest Stones from the Holy Tomb. And the woman who bore the Sword of the Creator would do what she had to. It would be a kind of death, not of the body but of the life and love that they had built.

There was a reason the Emperor abdicated and crowned his successor. She couldn't stop death but she could choose have to face it. She could sear the memories of tonight into both of them. She rolled atop Byleth. "You deserve a reward."

Byleth cupped both her cheeks. "I already have more than I deserve."

Edelgard forced down the pain in her chest. Her teacher deserved so much more than she had gotten. She deserved better than Edelgard could give her. Edelgard would give her all that she could regardless. She trained her eyes on Byleth's face as her hand drifted between her legs. It felt strange to be doing this for someone else but Byleth obligingly canted her hips against her hand. She whimpered and called Edelgard's name as she broke apart and it was a victory as sweet as any on the battlefield.

She's mine. Just for tonight she's mine. No goddess or fate will take her away.

It would have to do.