Another day, another letter from her father. The war with Adrestia was finally over, and yet Ingrid still couldn't decide on what to do. It was her dream to become a knight, but her father needed her to marry a noble to keep their house from falling apart.

It was a tough decision, and Ingrid was starting to get very frustrated. Her father's pleas were becoming more frequent as time went on, but she just couldn't bring herself to pick an option.

She'd tried getting counsel from her friends, but they hadn't been much help. While they were all in favor of her becoming a knight and letting House Galatea crash and burn, the blunt way Felix had described it had only increased Ingrid's guilt.

This was getting her nowhere, she decided, as she got and began heading towards the stables. Though she doubted that she'd find the solution there, Ingrid always found comfort in caring for her pegasus, Arthur. She'd never admit it to anyone, she often found herself talking to him about her problems.

She'd taken all of three steps into the stables when she spotted someone right next to Arthur's stall.

Specifically, someone who had literally no good reason to be there.

"Claude, what are you doing to Arthur? Don't you remember what happened last time?" Ingrid's pegasus had never been the biggest fan of the schemer, attacking him whenever he got too close.

Ingrid herself, on the other hand, felt quite the opposite towards the man. Despite her bickering and lecturing, she'd grown quite fond of Claude. She wasn't stupid enough to think anything would come of it, of course. What could he possibly gain from courting her? House Galatea's influence was nearing none, not to mention Claude likely found her too annoying to even consider.

"I was looking for you." Claude donned his trademark smug grin. "I figured you'd show up at some point to talk to Arthur here."

Ingrid felt her face grow red. How the hell did he know she talked to her pegasus? Had he been spying on her?

"Anyway, I have something of a proposition for you." No, not that kind of proposition. She quickly shook those thoughts from her head. "I'm heading back to Almyra soon," he started

"Ok."

His grin dropped. "You were supposed to be surprised that I'm from Almyra."

Ingrid rolled her eyes at that. "Claude, it was pretty obvious to anyone with a brain. All your talk of being 'an outsider' and 'not from around here' really gave it away."

He chuckled at that. "Fair enough. Anyway, in Almyra, the people value strength over anything. The King and Queen both lead the armies into major battles. The same goes for their kids."

"Ok… what does this have to do with me?"

His smug grin returned, a telltale sign he was up to no good. "Well, I may or may not know the prince."

"And?"

"And, he's in the market for a companion, if you catch my drift."

Was… was Claude suggesting what she thought he was suggesting? He really was an idiot.

"There's no way he'd even consider me, Claude."

He looked her directly in the eyes, and said "Trust me; I know the guy, and you are just his type. Fierce, strong, passionate, stubborn. He's gonna love you. And this way, you can still fight and all that jazz."

His proposal sounded too good to be true, if not a little bittersweet. As glad as Ingrid was to have a possible solution to her dilemma, having Claude act so nonchalant about her courtship made her heart twinge. Of course it was no big deal to him; he had no reason to take interest in her.

"Are you sure? What if he doesn't?"

Claude rolled his eyes. "Best case scenario, he likes you, which he will, and your problems are solved. Worst case scenario, I get a top notch pegasus knight guard to escort me across the dangerous wilderness. At least think about it."

It was a pretty obvious choice to make, but Ingrid still wanted some time to think. "I'll have your answer tomorrow around dinner."

"Trying to get me and you alone for a meal? I didn't know Faerghus women were so bold."

Ingrid blushed again. What was likely a meaningless tease to him was akin to a knife in the stomach for her. If only he knew just what all his teasing did to her…

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After packing her things and drafting a letter to her father ("Just tell him Teach plans on improving relations with Almyra. This way, your house will have a head start," Claude had said), Ingrid headed to the stables once again to meet with the man.

She found Arthur already prepped for travel. Claude flashed her a grin. "Got here early; thought I'd prep him for you. You ready?"

Though he'd played it off as no big deal, Ingrid knew how much effort was required when it came to readying a pegasus for long distance travel, not to mention the fact that he'd done his wyvern as well.

Why was he doing so much for her? Sure, they were friends– good friends, at that. But that didn't explain why Claude, Duke of the Leicester Alliance, was going so far for Ingrid, daughter of the near broke Count Galatea.

A traitorous part of her brain whispered that maybe he returned her feelings, but that obviously wasn't true as he was currently helping her find a husband that wasn't him.

The journey from Garreg Mach to Almyra was fairly lengthy, one that could not be done in one flight. So, the pair took their first break in the wilderness. They'd come prepared, or so Ingrid thought, with tents, provisions and the like.

Turns out, Claude had forgotten something very important.

"I was supposed to bring two tents? Why? That's just inefficient packing."

He had a shit-eating grin on his face, telling Ingrid he wasn't sorry in the slightest.

Giving him a stone cold glare, Ingrid responded "Fine, but if you try anything, I swear to the goddess you won't live to see your Almyran pals."

He nodded, completely unfazed by the threat. Did this really mean nothing to him?

It was just another testament to the fact that he didn't see her as a romantic candidate, she supposed. Not even Claude would be this blasé with someone he saw as 'girlfriend material.'

Unfortunately for Ingrid, no amount of proof that Claude didn't reciprocate her feelings could stop her heartbeat from bumping into overdrive once they'd both settled down. At this rate, she'd go into cardiac arrest before ever reaching Almyra.

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After a very awkward morning of untangling limbs, Claude and Ingrid continued their journey to Almyra. They took their second and final stop just outside Fodlan's Throat, in Goneril territory.

Luckily for her heart, they had much more professional accommodations this time around, courtesy of Hilda. Ingrid sent the lazy girl a silent prayer, thankful for a night of actual rest this time around.

Before she turned in, however, she overheard a faint conversation between Claude and his former retainer.

"Going home to Almyra, then?"

"How come everyone knows this already? I thought I'd kept it a secret."

"Oh, Claude, I know you too well for that. I can see through any ruse of yours, and you know it."

"Yeah, and I can tell when you're putting on an act to get out of work, so it evens out. Guess that comes with knowing each other for so long."

Ingrid's heart clenched in jealousy. Hilda and Claude had been close for a very long time, and she wouldn't be surprised if they were romantically involved given how well they knew each other. They were the subject of many rumors around Garreg Mach, both during the academy and the war.

Though, Claude was the subject of many romantic rumors regardless, so Ingrid tended not to put stock into them. Despite that, she couldn't help but suffer a little whenever she heard or saw any evidence that could possibly point to their accuracy.

It really pissed her off that she did so, as it was plainly clear to anyone with eyes that Claude had no interest in her. What was the point in mourning the loss of something that was never yours?

"Speaking of seeing through your schemes, I hope you know what you're doing with this one."

"Relax, Hilds. It'll be fine. It has potential to be my most successful scheme yet."

Hilda snorted. "We'll see about that. Be sure to write me about every single bone of yours that gets broken as a result."

What was Claude up to? Did it involve her? Was Claude going to be in danger?

Ingrid pondered these questions until she was finally overtaken by the blanket of much-needed sleep.

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Hilda was a very accommodating host, Ingrid found, as she and Claude finished their breakfast and prepared to set off on the last leg of their journey. She caught him chuckling at her as she shoveled the food into her mouth and shot him a cold glare.

It was only now really setting in that the purpose of this trip was Ingrid's marriage to the Crown Prince of Almyra. Despite Claude's assurances, she wasn't exactly sure the prince would like her at all. What did she have to offer him?

She voiced these thoughts just before they took flight once more.

"Are you sure this is going to work out? I just don't see why the Prince of Almyra would have any reason to-"

"We've been over this, Ingrid. It'll work out. Trust me." Claude wore an expression of smugness, one that screamed 'I know something you don't.'

The thought that Claude thought her a good marriage candidate for a prince still caused her stomach to twist up. Ingrid would have to work on better concealing her crush on the schemer, especially if the two were as close as Claude claimed.

Hilda showed up to see them off, though with the same tardiness she'd had in the academy days. When Claude wasn't looking, she gave Ingrid a suggestive look, raising one eyebrow.

Ingrid was too exasperated to shoot a glare back, so she just sighed, kept her neutral look and tried to ignore the girl. It seemed even Hilda was aware of her unrequited feelings for the man. Honestly, it was a miracle that Claude himself hadn't figured it out yet, one for which Ingrid was very glad.

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It dawned on Ingrid during the flight that Almyra likely had a different language to Fodlan. She figured Claude had 'neglected' to mention it on purpose. Honestly, the man was so infuriating.

It wasn't until they'd all but reached their destination that Claude began drilling her on the basics. Due to some stormwinds, the duo had been forced to make the rest of the journey on foot. Ingrid didn't really mind, though. It wasn't much further.

On that walk, Ingrid learned some basic phrases like 'hello,' 'thank you' and even 'I do not speak Almyran.'

Finally he gave her some formal greetings for the king and queen. Up until that point, Ingrid hadn't even thought about the fact that she would have to confront the ruling monarchs of the country. She was beginning to regret this more and more.

Oddly enough, a couple of the phrases near the end of the formal greeting sounded somewhat familiar. Ingrid chalked it up to the idea that at some point, she had likely heard the names of the king and queen before. They were probably similar even when spoken in Almyran.

All the practice did nothing to calm her nerves. Of course, having Claude nearby never helped in that matter, regardless of the context.

The next period of time went by like a rush. They'd been escorted by guards through the palace, unfamiliar words buzzing around her. Finally, they made it to the throne room. Ingrid took a deep breath and prayed she'd make an okay impression.

The two rulers sat there, oddly casual for royalty. Their postures seemed familiar, and now that Ingrid thought about it, so did their appearances. In fact, the queen looked more like she was from Fodlan than Almyra...

As Claude and the king and queen conversed, Ingrid could only stare at Claude, bemused by a slightly nervous expression she'd never seen on him. She was quick to banish any other thoughts on his appearance.

Ingrid was jerked out of her revelry when the queen began laughing. Claude began rubbing the back of his neck, and the king just put his face in his hand and chuckled.

What was going on? Were the Almyran royalty this casual? If so, Ingrid could see why Claude was so… Claude.

Speaking of royalty, where was the prince? Wasn't she supposed to be… marrying him?

Ingrid felt incredibly out of place. She had no idea what the three were saying, and as time went on, her discomfort only increased. Eventually, the tension was broken by one action.

The queen looked Ingrid dead in the eye, and in perfect Fodlanese, said "Welcome Ingrid. I've heard much about you from Claude here. I am Tiana Von Riegan, Queen of Almyra."

Von… Von Riegan? But, but that meant…

What was going on here?

Ingrid remained speechless and slack jawed as Tiana continued. "So sorry to embarrass you like this, but it seems my dear son neglected to mention some minor details about the royal family of Almyra when talking to you."

This whole time… Claude was the Prince of Almyra? But that meant…

'I know the guy, and you are just his type.'

'He's gonna love you.'

She turned to the man, a million questions in her mind. For some ungodly reason, Claude Von Riegan liked Ingrid Brandl Galatea?

No, not liked. Loved.

He bore a sheepish smile, and extended his hands to the sides.

"...Surprise?"

Instead of running to his arms, embracing him or professing her love for him like some cheesy novel, Ingrid clenched her fists and delivered her coldest stare yet.

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" She grabbed his collar and slammed him against the wall, fully intent on throttling him until she remembered the other two people in the room.

Instead of horror or anger directed towards the girl who dared lay a hand on their son, Ingrid was surprised to only find mirth in the eyes of Claude's parents as she turned to face them. In fact, Tiana was barely holding back her laughter at this point.

"I have to say, you really outdid yourself picking this one, Claude. She lives up to every word you wrote about her."

No longer concerned about the king and queen, Ingrid turned back to Claude and gave him another death glare.

"How dare you! Do you know how it felt the whole trip, thinking you were willingly sending me off to some other man? I was miserable!"

Despite the anger in her tone and his precarious position, Claude lit up at that. "So, you like me back?"

Ingrid turned red at that. "Of course I do!"

"And you're still going to marry me?"

"Obviously!"

"Good, just checking. That's all I really care about."

Ingrid blushed even harder, and then kissed him.

In the future, this memory would likely incite laughter from both parties.

But it wasn't the future yet.

So Ingrid punched him in the face.