Ever since Severa told her what would happen in the future, Cordelia couldn't stop thinking about it. It couldn't be such a bad future if she got to sleep with Chrom, she thought. No, that was unfair. That was unfair to everyone. Her selfishness probably hadn't helped matters, and Chrom's lack of discretion couldn't have helped, either.

More surprisingly, she discovered that she couldn't bring herself to hate Lucina. She liked Lucina. She was blunt and guileless, and wounded and strong. She acted like someone who was trying to act like Chrom, and failed because her own personality shone through too brightly. She wondered how often she saw Lucina, in her future-past. She wondered if she liked her then as much as she liked her now. Probably not, she guessed. Not after what she did to them.

For all that an apocalyptic scenario seemed to be playing out—their children were more jittery than usual, having seen the effects of Grima's presence in this world—Cordelia had little reaction to what was going on. She did what she did best: played the part of stable, structuring teammate and good friend. She refused to talk about Chrom, even indirectly. She acted as if she had gotten over Chrom for good.

And then there was Sumia. She couldn't even imagine betraying her best friend. Sumia had helped her through so much during their days as recruits: she was the only one who would talk to her; maybe she was a little clumsy, but she was sweet and genuine and kind most of all. Cordelia tried to imagine a scenario that would fracture their friendship, and make it so that she felt capable of doing this, but the future was always unpredictable. It would be impossible to tell. Maybe it had been nothing at all.

She couldn't. She wouldn't dare. If Sumia hadn't been there, she would have given up on becoming a knight and gone home to become a housewife. Not here, and not today. She would nip it in the bud before it ever happened.

Today, she was going to tell Chrom.

Cordelia was hovering around the medical tent that morning when Panne stopped by.

"You're always an early riser."

"I can hear your heartbeat from twenty feet away. What's gotten into you?" Her tone was patient, motherly. She would have made a better mother for Severa, Cordelia thought in a fit of delirium; when she realized that none other than Chrom would be in there, she panicked and couldn't bring herself to step inside. She was hardly surprised that Panne could hear her heart pound.

"I'm going to tell him," she replied, pacing back and forth. "Or at least I thought I was. I can't. I'm a coward."

"Oh? Why now?" Panne stood still, in that rabbity way of hers.

"Well, Grima's been summoned," she said anxiously. "Now's a good a time as any, I suppose."

"You're lying."

"I hate that you can tell."

"What happened?"

"Severa told me that something happened between us in the future."

"Which would be..."

"It's awful."

"The world ended. Of course it is."

"No I mean..."

Panne sighed. "You're not going to be able to tell him anything if you're skittering about like a frightened rat."

"That's an ugly comparison."

"For an ugly state of mind."

"I don't know what to do, Panne."

"You're married."

"I know that."

"If he's half the man I was led to believe he is, he'll do the right thing."

"Did she tell you?"

"Did who?"

"Did Severa?"

"Tell me what?"

"Nothing," Cordelia said, and Panne shook her head at her. Her ears swayed like pendulums. The seconds ticked by. "I'm going to tell him," she said again, and stepped toward the tent.

She reeled back. "No, no, I can't."

"What did you do in the future?"

The words spilled out of her mouth. "We had an affair. At least I think that's what happened. That's what Severa thinks happened, but how does she know what future me was thinking? I don't even know what was going on then. All I know is that we all died and then Risen took over Ylisstol."

"You and Chrom had an affair." She heard amusement in Panne's voice.

"You don't think it's possible?"

"No. But it's a little ironic, considering."

"Shut up," she said, and stopped in front of the tent. "Even I have pride. I'd never stoop so low as to become the other woman."

"Even though you love him?"

"Some days all I want is to destroy them both." She took a deep breath. "Which is why this needs to end now." Cordelia left her fear behind, and marched into the tent.

He wasn't there. She swore under her breath.

"I haven't heard that one from you before."

"Lucina, have you seen your fath—oh goodness, look at your face! Have you been crying?"

She wanted to put on a brave face and say that no, she just had a little dust in her eyes, that was all. She didn't.

"No, I haven't." It had been in response to the first question, so it wasn't really lying. The world turned to pleasant darkness.

"I've been looking everywhere for him. He shouldn't be walking around when he's injured like that; he could reopen his wounds." With every word, Sumia squeezed harder.

"Mother..."

"Yes, Lucina?"

"Can't... breathe..."

"Oh. I'm sorry." Sumia let go of Lucina's head, which had been shoved up against her chest in a way that was very mother-like, but inappropriate for a daughter of that age. "Are you feeling better now?"

"Yes, Mother."

"Are you sure? You don't want me to bake a pie for you?"

"You have better things to do right now than bake pies."

"I always have time for pie."

"I wouldn't want to burden you."

"You're not a burden. You're my daughter."

"I'm not hungry, really."

"We leave for Mount Prism tomorrow, you know. If he gets himself hurt now..."

"Do you want me to help look for him?"

"Oh, no, I couldn't."

"Please, let me help. It's the least I can do."

"Well..." she said, but Lucina cut her off.

"I'll be right back," She dashed off.

"Wait, but I already looked in that direction!"

She found him sitting by the edge of a spring a little ways from camp, sun beating down hard on the water and the hard-packed earth. Tall grass sprouted up around the water, but the spring was too small, too shallow, to give rise to trees and shrubs. The bigger one was in the middle of camp, where everyone went to fetch water. That one may have been prettier, but this one had Chrom.

He turned to face her. "Cordelia?"

"Vaike told me where you were," she said quickly. "He always seems to know where you are, for some reason."

"Oh," he said, and turned back to his reflection in the water.

Cordelia stood. She wasn't sure what to do now that she had found him. The Plegian afternoon sun was hot, and today it felt hotter than usual. Her mouth felt dry.

"Um," she said. "So are you coming back?"

"I think I'm going to stay here for a little while longer."

"Everyone's worried about you," she said, and then sat maybe a foot away from him. She was afraid of getting too close, of betraying herself.

"How's Severa," he said, but it sounded less like a question than a statement. He seemed distracted, far away. Cordelia wondered if he had caught her fever after all.

"Severa? Oh, she's... She's wonderful."

"Is she?" A ghost of a smile flicked past his face. He continued staring into the water. "You know, Cordelia..."

"Y-yes?"

He shook his head. "No. Never mind."

She groaned. They were never going to get anywhere like this. "Chrom, I have to tell you something."

He looked at her then. Her well of confidence dried up just as quickly as it had filled.

"Um." Her heart began to pound. "But you have to... You can't..."

He blinked. He looked confused more than anything else. Cordelia wondered if she was making any sense to him. Her mind was blanking.

She buried her face in her hands. "It's been a while, all right? Just... Just give me a minute."

"All right?" he said, nonplussed. "Take your time."

Stupid, stupid, stupid...

"Chrom, I love you."

"Oh," he said. He looked at the ground. "Oh, uh. You, uh. You what?"

"I mean," she said, "I... I used to. I'm married now, so I—I mean, I don't anymore, I just—"

"No, I completely understand. That you're married. That means—"

"I don't want to do anything with you; I-I just wanted you to know."

"I see. Th-that makes sense."

"So. Uh." She pulled her legs closer. "I've had my eye on you for a long time... but... Obviously it's too late now."

But it's not too late, some part of herself screamed, and Severa's words came to mind and she remembered Lucina and her angry threats, and the amiable concern she had shown for her during what seemed like forever ago, but was really only a few days ago.

She thought of all the people who had affairs who managed to keep them secret, and no one knew about them except the two parties involved, and the truth had been well-guarded until it faded into oblivion. She wondered what Chrom thought of her, anyway.

"You," he said, and stared at her. His expression was unreadable. "So this had nothing to do with Sumia?"

"Sumia? What about Sumia? I mean she... She married you."

"No, I don't mean about that, I thought she..."

"What? What about her?" Now she was the one who was confused. Why did he have to bring Sumia into this? None of this was her fault; she was blameless as a lamb.

"She said that she shouldn't have married me and that everything was all her fault."

"What on earth are you talking about?" She stood up. She sounded angry to herself.

"Is that why...?"

Cordelia sighed. "What has she been telling you?"

Then, somehow, everything started to make sense.

"Um... Lucina..."

"Mother? You followed me?"

"I needed to talk to you about something, actually. It's about what you told Chrom."

"Oh..." She backed away. "Oh, no. Oh, no; I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"No, shh," her mother said, approaching her. "It's all right. Don't worry."

"No, it's not. That was horrible of me. I really shouldn't have." She kept her head down. She couldn't look her mother in the face.

"Well, you definitely inherited my tendency to apologize," Sumia mused. "But wait. Um, so why don't we go to your tent? It's around here, right?"

"My tent? If you say so."

Her tent wasn't very large, but it offered privacy enough to carry on what promised to be a very uncomfortable conversation. They sat down on the ground.

"We had a long talk, after you told him what Severa thinks happened back then, about our marriage, and our future, and about you."

Lucina shifted in discomfort. She didn't like the way this conversation was going; she didn't want to know where it was headed. She looked anywhere but directly at her mother.

"And I got to thinking... This really can't go on, you know? Especially if it leads to a future like that. I mean, it probably wasn't the cause of your future—that's not fair to say—but Cordelia's my friend, and regardless of what might have happened to you, she's not the same person now as she was in your future, just as I'm not the same mother you had now as you had then. You understand that, right?"

She tossed her hair away from her face. "Y... Yes, I do. But what are you..."

"Suggesting? Nothing. But I want you to accept you for whatever happens. Besides..." She bit her lip. "I don't think it was her fault that it happened..."

"What?" Lucina nearly leapt to her feet. "What could you possibly mean? You had nothing to do with it! It was all her and Father. You're the victim here!"

"Wait, Lucina, listen..."

It had been during their days as Shepherds, while patrolling Ylisstol in the spring, that Sumia found the book. It was nothing more than a silly court romance, a story about a man and a woman and another woman, and how the two women fought over the man. Sumia read it until the binding began to come apart. Cordelia had finished it all of once, and had never touched it again.

She mentioned it again in the fall, while they were busy polishing their armor in the barracks.

"You know that story I read," she said, "about the prince and the two women that he loved?"

"Yes," Cordelia responded testily. "What about it? You've read it a thousand times; you've practically memorized the thing."

"Well, I was just wondering..."

"Wondering what?"

"Well... The women didn't start out hating each other. In fact they were the best of friends! It was their shared love for him that eventually turned them into—horrible, ugly, green-eyed monsters. Harpies!"

"And...?"

"And it made me think about... how awful jealousy must be and—I don't know, why couldn't they stay friends?"

"It's a romance novel. There has to be some conflict for there to be a plot."

"I thought love was supposed to be a positive thing, though."

"It isn't always."

"Cordelia," she whined, and balled her hands into fists. "You know what I mean."

"I'm afraid I don't."

"I mean, what if that happens to us?"

"To us?"

"What if we—and—I want to stay friends with you! I don't want us to be broken apart over something like that. What are we supposed to do?"

"I... I really don't know. I've never had any experience with anything like that."

"That's no good. Help me think of something!"

"Honestly, Sumia..."

"He likes them both, right?" she said. "And if they stayed friends, then maybe..."

"You can't be thinking of—what I'm thinking of." Cordelia made a face.

"Well... Why not? It's better than the prince getting murdered in a fit of jealous rage at the end. That's terrible!"

"But Sumia—"

"Are you saying you don't like me?"

"That's... That's not what I meant."

"Wait, before you say anything," said Cordelia. "Let me guess."

"O... OK?" Chrom said. He was... nervous? Cordelia had never seen him quite so antsy before.

"She suggested a threesome."

"Ah." His mouth hung open slightly. It would have seemed cute, if it didn't make him look so daft. "You're... right. How did you know that? Don't tell me she told you, too."

"She didn't. Not just then, anyway." She shook her head. The wind buffeted her hair. "I... really don't understand what's going through her head sometimes."

"So in the future—"

"What about the future?"

"No, never mind."

"No, Severa told me the same thing."

"Wait, what about Severa?"

"Lucina didn't—"

"She said we had an affair. It was a threesome, wasn't it? But that only works if..." Chrom turned bright red.

"I'm beginning to wonder if there's something else she hasn't been telling me..." Cordelia said, and they stared at each other for longer than they ever had before.

The color didn't fade from Chrom's face. "Um, Cordelia."

"What?"

"Do you...?"

Heat started rushing up to her face. She grimaced. "Maybe several years from now. Whatever the case," she said, offering him a hand up, "I'm sorry we've caused you so much trouble. I'll talk her out of this stupid idea before she tries to... seduce me or something."

She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. Chrom would probably never look at them the same way again.

"Just... One more thing," he said as he stood up, and looked at her.

Strangely, she was feeling much more relaxed now. "Yes, Chrom?"

"Even though this situation is... beyond reprehensible, I still have to thank you—for everything you've done for my wife. She wouldn't be the same person she is now, if it weren't for you."

She rose an eyebrow. "Are you sure you want to say that?"

He smiled at her, and it was the most beautiful smile she had ever seen. "Yes. I do."

Meet me on the training grounds before dawn.

Lucina didn't recognize the script, but it looked fairly neat, and strangely somehow average. She would have mistaken it for Stahl's handwriting, though she assumed Stahl's would have been messier. It was good, but it wasn't great. Then again, you could say that about a lot of things.

As she headed over to the training grounds, she didn't consider whether it could have been a trap. Instead, she wondered who the handwriting belonged to. Severa would be the type to challenge her to a duel, but Severa would never opt to leave a note: she would simply bark at Lucina in person and then expect her to show up. Kjelle might leave a note, but duels between them weren't anything particularly special. Cynthia only seriously dueled other people on mounts, and she couldn't imagine any of the boys challenging her. Or at least, not with that handwriting. Still, she brought Falchion along just in case.

She wasn't surprised to see who was standing in the center of the grounds.

"Lucina," she said, and her tone was the kind of casual it had not been for a very, very long time. "You finally showed up."

"I never turn down a fight."

"So how about we make a bet?" Her expression was difficult to make out in the darkness. "I beat you, and you forget about this affair business and start treating me like a regular human being again."

"And if I beat you...?"

"You can do whatever you want with me. Outside of killing me, of course. You can humiliate me, or beat me, or do whatever else your conscience will allow. I think you've deserved that much, at least." She held her training lance aloft. Its length would give her the advantage in this fight, but the odds were stacked against her. She was used to fighting on a mount, and she had none. It seemed as if she were setting herself up for failure.

"If you just want to apologize," said Lucina, "you don't have to go through the trouble of doing all this, you know."

"I don't intend to lose."

Lucina jumped out of the way of an offending lance tip, and parried it with her own sword. Cordelia dodged her stab effortlessly. She was like a completely different person. "You're trying to take away everyone I love, aren't you?" she sneered, and even to her ears it sounded ridiculous. "You're just as bad as Grima."

Their weapons smacked against each other, wood on wood. As the sun began to rise, Cordelia smiled. "Am I? You want to make me your archnemesis too?"

Lucina hit flesh, and sidestepped away from a thrust of her lance. "How about I make it so that you can never walk again? I'll break your legs in half."

"Big words coming from a little girl."

"I am not a little girl." The lance shaft slashed her side. Lucina jabbed it away, and made a downward slash toward her shoulder. It hit bone, and loudly.

Cordelia was indomitable. "I talked to your mother."

"Are you sure that's all you did?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

The tip of her lance swiped her chest, and she jumped out of the way. As she lifted her sword up, Cordelia brought her lance down against it. Lucina resisted the pressure.

"You ruined them both."

"I know we'll probably never be friends, but..."

Lucina let go, and blocked. "But what?"

"This is what I told her," she said, and as she relaxed Lucina brought her sword down hard on her lance. The wooden shaft snapped off. "I told her that she loved Chrom more than I ever could, and that she deserved him more than anyone else in the world."

"So is this my win?"

Cordelia flicked her wrist violently, and Lucina tripped over something beneath her legs. Something pointed and sharp dug under her chin. If it was pushed any closer, it would draw blood.

"Let's call it a draw."

Lucina clutched the broken end of the lance, grinning. "That doesn't help either of us, does it?"

"I don't think I could change your mind, anyway." She pushed harder.

Lucina yanked it out of the way, and drove the broken lance into the ground before standing upright. She unsheathed Falchion at her side, and held it aloft, as if she were pointing it at an enemy. Then she dashed forward and brought it up over her head.

Just as she was about to bring it down on her, she let the sword fall from her hands. It fell with a thump onto the ground.

She laughed. She couldn't stop laughing. "Gods... This is just like one of Mother's bad romance novels."

"Lucina...?" Cordelia looked pale, and maybe a little bewildered.

She shook her head, wiping the tears from her eyes. "No. You win this time. You win." She couldn't breathe. "My parents are such idiots, aren't they?"

"Well, yes," Cordelia said thoughtfully, "but they're your parents, and they're here, and they love you more than anything else in the world. I'd say you have it pretty good, all things considering."

Lucina picked up Falchion and sheathed it and stared at Cordelia for a long, hard while. "Um," she finally said. "I'm sorry I almost killed you."

"I'm sorry I didn't follow your advice."

She frowned. "Excuse me?"

"You told me to take care of myself."

"Did I? I don't remember."

"You did, but I didn't. I should've listened to you after all."

Lucina made a complicated face. Cordelia, stubborn as she was, was finally conceding that she had done something wrong, but it wasn't the thing that she had done wrong, but she couldn't possibly apologize for it because she hadn't even done it yet, and had even tried to prevent it from happening in this timeline, not to mention her mother's... contribution to the whole matter. She had lost.

It didn't feel like a bad loss, though.

"Well," she finally said, looking away, "if Mother thinks it's OK..."

"L-Lucina?"

"Then I think I'm ready to let this one go." She looked at Cordelia, and suddenly felt very young, and very small, and very unsure of herself. "Can we... Can we make a fresh start? I know I've made a lot of mistakes, but I don't think there's any point in dwelling on them. Not when we've got so much at stake."

Cordelia stared at her until she blushed.

Then she smiled. "Of course we can."