On her free day, Byleth finally had a chance to reevaluate her combat choices.

On one hand, she felt perfectly fine as the Enlightened One − a unique class made just for her. However, at one point in time, fine wasn't enough anymore. The moment it was joined by the feelings of boredom and stagnation, the woman made her decision.

It was time for some changes.

"With your skills, you could easily be a Swordmaster," said Catherine, giving Byleth a scrutinizing look.

"Thank you, but I'd rather take a Master Class exam," replied the professor, unsatisfied with the suggestion.

"Maybe a Holy Knight, then? There's nothing more noble than treating the wounds of your fellow knights! Who knows, maybe one will catch your eye, eh, Professor?"

Manuela supported her speech with a meaningful wink. Byleth forgot how to speak.

"Er… No. Definitely not."

"What do you want to accomplish on the battlefield?" asked Alois with a smile on his face. "You want to be a recon squad, a heavy artillery, an unbreakable wall?"

Byleth considered the options she was given.

"No," she said at last. "I want to be able to protect everyone. I need high mobility to reach the endangered units as soon as possible. But I don't want to be a mage; I'm sick of using spells."

"I recommend a Falcon Knight."

Everyone's eyes landed on Seteth, who had been passively listening from a far corner.

"What?" the man added, confused with everyone's sudden interest in him. "She'll have everything she needs. High mobility, no spell casting, and the ability to use the Sword of the Creator."

Although her facial expression didn't change, Seteth could have sworn that Byleth beamed at him.

"That's a brilliant idea. I should start at once."

During her routine walk around the monastery, Byleth approached Dimitri.

"Hello, Professor," he greeted her. It was a nice change after the last several months of being dismissed. "Don't you simply enjoy the sunny weather after days of rain?"

The teacher followed her student's line of sight. She had to admit, despite the buildings being partly damaged, the view was magnificent.

"Yes," she said, her eyes back at the man before her. With his back straight and hair lighted from behind, Dimitri looked… different. More like a ruler, she supposed.

"Hm?" The prince's brows went up when he caught the professor stare. "Do you perhaps want something from me?"

"I do, actually," said Byleth, her face blank. "I wanted to tell you that I'm training for the Falcon Knight exam."

Dimitri smiled at her. He seemed impressed.

"Good for you, Professor," the prince said with a nod. "I believe you will make a great knight."

"Thank you," answered Byleth without losing the eye contact. She made a step forward. "Now, I would like to ask you for private lessons."

"Me?" asked Dimitri, taken aback. He closed his eye and shook his head. "Forgive my bluntness, but I believe Seteth is a better choice."

There was a short silence.

"Maybe he is," the woman admitted, "but I'm asking you. Unless you don't want to."

Was it just him, or did the professor sound uncertain?

"I do," he assured her. With a hand gesture, he said, "After you, Professor."

The Training Grounds were empty, so Byleth was at least spared some of the embarrassment.

She stood in the middle of the room with a training lance in her hands. The woman resembled a villager holding a pitchfork and was about as dangerous. Dimitri couldn't help but smirk.

"This is not the way to hold a lance." He walked towards Byleth. "Here, let me show you."

Before the professor could protest, she felt Dimitri's wide chest pressed against her back. She was well aware of his warm breath on her neck. It gave her shivers. He reached from behind to grab her hands. Gently but firmly, the man moved her palms further apart.

"Now it should be easier to maneuver," said Dimitri inches from Byleth's ear.

He stepped away just as suddenly as he appeared.

"Right," replied the professor, weighing the lance in her hands. Her grip on the wood felt much sturdier indeed.

The prince took the second weapon from the stand.

"There are a few basic pushes that are relatively easy to learn." He stood in front of his teacher, so that she could see him as her mirror reflection. "Try to follow my lead."

The lesson was going well. Dimitri had to admit that Byleth was a quick learner. For someone who'd never wielded a lance before, she was making significant progress in a short amount of time. Seeing her master block and thrust made his heart swell with pride.

When they made a short break to catch their breaths, Byleth glanced up at the man. He was smiling.

"What?" she asked, panting slightly.

"That feels new," stated Dimitri, gesturing between him and the professor. "Me teaching you."

On Byleth's face, there was a curious expression.

"Is it a good feeling?"

The prince gave it a thought. A soft smile graced his lips.

"I guess it is."

Feeling nostalgic, Dimitri recalled one of his lessons from the academy. He dropped his weapon.

"Dimitri?" There was a note of confusion in Byleth's voice. "What are you doing?"

The prince made a few more warm-up moves before he replied,

"The same thing you did to me when I wished to learn how to use a sword."

The professor's lips curled up a little at the fond memory. Back in the times when Dimitri was younger and more carefree, he'd already been an excellent lancer. And yet, one day, he came to her and asked to be taught about swordsmanship.

"You never fought with a sword, though," noted Byleth, also getting ready. "What did you want to learn it for?"

The man didn't meet her gaze as he said,

"Maybe I hoped we could have something in common."

Unable to find the words to respond, the professor simply stood where she was. Meanwhile, Dimitri took a fighting pose, clenched his fists, and stated in a calm voice,

"Come at me, Professor."

Byleth didn't have to be told twice. With a swift move, she ran towards him and attacked. Her swing was meant to graze not hurt, yet it failed to do even as much. Her former student was fast, much faster than she anticipated. She had troubles landing a single hit. She didn't remember it being so hard to beat him when their roles were swapped.

She also didn't remember noticing the way Dimitri's muscles worked under his skin. His sweaty hair dancing around his face. Nor his cheeks reddening from the effort he put into the fight, which made him more handsome than ever.

Apparently sensing that she dropped her guard, the prince began to counterattack. He caught Byleth's lance near its blade and knocked it out of the way. Another fast move and he was inches from her face, his forearm to Byleth's neck. She could see his chest raise and fall, as he breathed hard. The woman could swear that his icy gaze reached right to her soul.

"You're dead," he said in a low voice, trying to slow his breathing.

"So I am," replied Byleth, surprised to find her lips dry as parchment.

For several heartbeats, none of them moved. The air between them felt tense, although the professor did not understand why.

Finally, Dimitri stepped back. He took the weapon out of the professor's hands.

"I believe you've had enough for today. Forgive me, but you seem rather tired."

Or distracted, thought Byleth but said nothing. How could she explain to Dimitri something she was having trouble to grasp herself?

"Thank you for teaching me," she said instead, attempting to produce a smile.

"Anytime," said Dimitri, and, to her surprise, he leaned forward to place a light kiss on her cheek.

Trying to ignore the warm feeling on her face, Byleth stated,

"That's one thing I've never done after our private lessons."

The light was probably playing tricks on her, although the professor could have sworn that Dimitri recoiled at her comment. When he spoke, his voice sounded different.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped your boundaries."

Out of the blue, Byleth felt a sudden urge to correct his assumptions. She tilted her head to a side.

"I never said I didn't want to."

As she walked away, she couldn't see Dimitri's shocked expression nor his half-open mouth. Before she left the room, however, the woman turned around and asked,

"Same time next week?"