Byleth glances at the papers set so orderly on her desk, her eyes instinctively drawing away from the pages, towards the fireplace mantle, as she tries to read the time on the clock. The day is coming to a close, but as the minutes tick by, the young queen cannot help but reflect on the events of the past twenty-four hours, or rather the lack of.

She tries to refocus her attention on the pile of papers that lay discarded on the desk in front of her, absent-mindedly skimming through its contents before dipping her quill on the inkwell once again, so she can sign and amend the documents. Her eyes drift back to the beginning of the paragraph, re-reading each sentence as if trying to scan the paper for a particular collection of words, but soon finds herself unable to concentrate.

"You look as bored as I am." The musical tone came from the doorstep.

The blue-haired woman turns to the source of voice, a warm smile enveloping her lips as she notices him for the first time.

Dimitri stands in the doorway, leaning against the lintel as he drinks her in, tilting his head as if to get a better picture. His arms are crossed, the sleeves of his undershirt rolled up to the folds of his elbows, staving off a heat she does not know how he felt.

It was late Horsebow Moon, and back in Remire the days are still long and sunny, but Fhirdiad was cold even in the height of Summer. She supposes she misses it, sometimes, but there was nothing left for her in the south, against a home filled with people she loved and valued here in the north. Her bitterness with the weather is always short-lived.

"I thought that I was the only one who is allowed to mope." The blond pointed out, a teasing smile gracing his lips.

She giggles, her smile widening as he takes a step towards her. "I do not think that figured on my vows."

"Oh, it is there, alright." He wraps his arms around her shoulders, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. "Somewhere underneath the clause about how it would be inconsiderate of you to look this beautiful, even during my work hours."

"I must have missed that." The woman responds with giddiness, leaning into his touch as he nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck.

The blond monarch chuckles softly, shaking his head in amusement.

"Then I suggest you read over it again, if only merely to see if there is anything else that you have missed." He flashes her a cheeky smile. "If I have learnt anything during my time as the king, dealing with nobles and diplomacy, it is that you always read between the lines and the small print."

Byleth quirks a brow. "Oh, really?"

"Certainly." He nods in agreement, squeezing her gently. "Small print can be sneaky."

"Like you are not sneaky by yourself." She looks up at him with a soft smile, reaching up to touch his cheek "You went straight to flirting, and I did not even get a hello."

He tilts his head slightly, pouting in jest at her words.

"Well, I suppose, being the gentleman that I am…" He kisses her cheek. "I ought to remedy that."

He turns away from her, linking his hands behind his back, retreating back to the doorway, placing his hand on the brass handle. She watches him in confusion, a nervous laugh escaping her.

When she speaks, her words are soft and gentle, the intonation in her voice rising as she queries his actions. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Starting this interaction over, as promised…" His cheeky grin returns, accompanied by a wink.

He ponders back over to her, leaning in to kiss the top of her head; he opens his mouth to speak, but a bashful laugh escapes him.

"Is this the part where I wish you a good evening?"

She shakes her head in disbelief, her lips curling into a bemused smile. "You really are unbelievable. How old are you, again?"

"Oh, dear lady, we have already established my youthfulness." Dimitri runs a gentle hand through her hair, letting it rest on her shoulder as he gazes down at the papers in front of her. "So, what have you been up to in the past couple of hours?"

Byleth follows his gaze back to the pile, her brows furrowed.

"Annotating receipts from the Royal Household." She places the document down, a defeated sigh escaping her. "Though, I do not seem to be making any headway. This is the tenth one, but I just feel like I have not made enough progress today."

"That makes two of us. Paperwork was suffocating me so that I spent a few hours sparring on the training grounds." He hesitates for a fleeting moment before continuing. "Alas, I am afraid that it is something we must do, and not a job that we can put off for much longer."

The queen sighed. "I know. I suppose I just wish that there was not so much paperwork to go through. Stewardship ought to be more efficient."

"There is usually not this many, I must admit…" He chuckles softly, retrieving one of the papers from her pile. He holds it at arm's length, skimming over the details before looking back at her. "Many important businesses were set aside during my uncle's regency, and the affair of my coronation in two Moons time is not helping expedite those along, but I hope you bear with me. Though, I am rather excited to see what may come from our years to come."

"As am I." She taps the desk with her long nails. "It does not change the fact that just looking at all of these makes my head hurt."

His expression turned concerned. "Are you feeling well?"

"Yes. Yes, of course. I am just taken with some malaise." Byleth glances down at her hands, to the ring on her finger, nervously wiping them on her skirt. It was foolish of her, but she was a little afraid he would deny her. "I was… I was actually wondering if you wanted to go out for a walk with me tonight? I am not used with being indoors for so long, you see, and some fresh air would do me good."

"I want nothing more than to spend the evening with you." He runs a gentle hand through her hair. "However, right now it is..."

"You do not want to go tonight." She deadpanned.

"Beloved, I… It is not a good time right now." He sighs defeatedly, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "When all of this is over, after I am coronated and things are settled, then you and I will be able to take some time off. Perhaps a tour to Dominic, where it is warmer, since I know you miss the sun. There shall be no paperwork, no red tape, no deadlines."

He inclines his head towards her, capturing her lips in a soft kiss. After a blissful moment, Dimitri pulls away, his once sorrowful smile replaced with one of contempt.

"I know it is not ideal, but if any of that is to happen, then I need to buckle down. I have been remiss this afternoon, I admit, but I ought to recoup the loss overnight." He concludes.

"It is fine." Byleth bites her lip, her cheeks reddening in her embarrassment. "It is what we must. We can go out another day."

He responds with a curt nod, his gaze softening as he quickly notices her disappointment.

"Thank you for being so understanding." He takes her hand, turning it over in his before pressing a tender kiss to her palm. "I honestly have no idea what I would do without you."

She flashes him a sad smile before glancing back at the paperwork, now left begotten on her desk.

"You would probably get a lot more done than what you are now." She tips her head subtly in the direction of the documents. "You might have managed to read over a couple more in the time that you have spent talking to me."

"That might be true." He kisses her hand once more, his lips ghosting her skin as they travel from the pad of her thumb to the inside of her wrist. "You seem to be quite the distraction, beloved."

She collects the pile of completed receipts before pushing them against his broad chest, her voice taking an almost urgent tone. "Well, this distraction believes that it is about time you go back to work, so that she too can continue doing the task that she has been set."

"Indeed." The king sighs in feigned defeat. "These contracts will not read themselves."

He heads back in the direction of his office, but it is not long before he turns with suddenness, quirking a brow as he studies her questionable demeanour.

"Are there any particular reasons as to why you wanted to go tonight, out of any other?" He folds his arms across his chest, regarding her with a mixture of adoration and intrigue. "Tonight, we have a new moon. Is there some astronomical phenomenon you would like to gaze? Or perhaps some flower that bloomed on the greenhouse?"

Byleth shakes her head, smiling faintly up at him before focusing her attention back on her work. "I just fancied a little break, that is all."

"Very well, then." He tips his head in acknowledgment, though he is able to sense the slight irritability in her voice. "Do make sure that you do take that break, yes? Just please avoid leaving the castle, please. You are a most capable warrior, but you are not invulnerable."

She nods in haste, her smile appearing a little more genuine. "I will, Dimitri. Do not worry about it."

He looks at her for a moment before retreating out of her study, gently shutting the door behind him.

Once she is sure that he has gone, Byleth collects the paperwork from her desk, tapping the ends to align the documents, forming a neat pile in her hands. She opens the desk drawer in the hopes of finding room to store the papers, but a small card catches her attention.

She reaches down for it, but stops abruptly as her ears pick up on the sound of movement in the hallway.

As the sounds begin to dissipate, she finds herself staring down at the card, decorated by images of flowers. She gazes at it momentarily before tucking it away, letting out a despondent sigh as she watches it disappear from her line of sight.

"Happy birthday to me, I suppose."


Dimitri and Byleth met not four years ago, when he joined the Officers' Academy at Garreg Mach Monastery.

The blue-haired girl lived with her father and an uncle, Alois, at Remire, a tiny village just short of the border between the Empire and Church territory. They worked as militia warriors, protecting the road between the town and Varley Castle.

For years, the job was mostly uneventful, with nothing more than a couple of daring robbers appearing between the New Year's and the Rite of Rebirth, hoping to profit from the travelling nobles. On late Great Tree Moon, one of these bands tried to attack a delegation from the Academy, comprised of the class presidents and the head teacher of the Golden Deer. They tried fighting Kostas off themselves, but could not make it against them, and so asked for the militia's help.

The group was impressed by their work, and so they were invited back to the monastery, much to Jeralt's great displeasure. Reaching the headquarters of the Church, which was so close to their home, and yet had ever seen just the reflections of the night lights, they were ushered into the Archbishop's audience hall, where they were offered positions within the Knights of Seiros.

It was certainly a promotion from forming a militia company with a tenuous contract with Count Varley, and the Knights of Seiros are one of the most renowned military orders in all of Fódlan, but her father was displeased and Alois was wary. Nevertheless, they accepted the offer.

Soon after, she had inquired her uncle why did they stay if they did not like the idea of working for the Church.

"There are some things that are inescapable in life." He responded, with uncharacteristic seriousness.

Alas, they remained. A few weeks in, Byleth noticed the creepy attention in which Rhea set her apart from the other knights and measured her development. She might not know why it was inescapable, but she certainly agreed with the notion that the Archbishop would not let her leave the monastery peacefully.

She was not the only one observing, though. The class presidents which they saved that night were all too keen in recruiting her for their nations' service. Her former liege's daughter, Bernadetta, was as meek as gossip believed, but the Imperial scion, Edelgard, was certainly dedicated into swaying her back to Adrestia. Claude, the heir to the Alliance, made some lofty promises of gold and prestige under his suzerainty, but the young woman had the distinct feeling that he was hiding something crucial from her, and so she has always taken the promises with a grain of salt.

Dimitri, the Faerghusi Crown Prince, was the last one to make his move. As the Moons passed, Rhea had been carefully testing Byleth for unknown reasons, and while she excelled on the physical aspects, she floundered on the mystical demands. When, by Ethereal Moon, the Archbishop insisted in testing her for Divine Revelation and absolutely nothing happened, as expected, the holy woman went mad, expelling her from the monastery and threatening her with an execution order.

As she settled back in Remire, at her aunt's home, Dimitri and his vassal stopped by the hovel, carrying an offer for her service in Fhirdiad, in exchange for Blaiddyd protection. She was quite shy about taking an offer for another suzerain, after her last foray into knighthood ended so badly, but Jeralt encouraged her to take it.

Byleth often wonders why, since, as she reaches the Kingdom capital with the prince, news breaks that Edelgard had been found dead in her room at the monastery, and the main accused were Jeralt and Alois. Naturally, they were both summarily condemned to death by hanging, carried out summarily by the Archbishop's aide.

She was devastated with the news, of course, especially when it was known that Marquis Vestra had ordered death by burning of her aunt and cousin, in reprisal for the conspiracy. She was suddenly all alone in the world, and moreover a prisoner in the Kingdom, as Imperial and Church forces alike would still like it very much executing her.

This emotional turmoil made her weak to the offers of devotion and protection offered by the prince. He would love and protect her, just as long as she helped him navigate against the influence of his uncle and Lady Cornelia.

Byleth did as she was told, and her magnificent job at it earned her a marriage proposal from Dimitri. The nobles all found a strange proposal, marrying a commoner, daughter of a regicide. Alas, the prince pointed out that, while she was Crestless, her father had the Crest of Seiros, and therefore is believed to be of Hresvelg blood. In the absence of any heirs, anyone who bears it in the future would be a valid successor for when Ionius IX finally passes. It would be a great boon if this was to be someone from the House of Blaiddyd.

She knows her husband loves and treasures her, and, in a level, she does him too, but she often has the feeling that, while both of their priorities are to carve themselves a place in the world to belong, they went about doing that in very different ways. The woman supposes she cannot begrudge her husband's methods, but she cannot help but feel rather lonely in his company at times.

Alas, this is her life, and she will make do with it.


Less than an hour later, Byleth finds herself perched on the edge of Dimitri's desk, her legs dangling over the edge as she watches him read over her work, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Well?" She encourages, as his eyes stop running through the parchment.

He looks up at her, his focused expression dissipating into one of contempt. He smiles, placing the document on his desk.

"It is actually very good." He lets out a sigh of relief. "You did some incredible work. The attention to detail is exquisite, and your organization skills are enviable, beloved. This will be of much help, thank you very much."

"I thought you might like it." She runs her hand along her thigh. "I like to keep myself organised, and what better way to do so than having a system that, though can be occasionally flawed, has withstood the test of time and continues to impress?"

He chuckles softly, resting a gentle hand on her back, his fingertips slowly inching under the material of her dress. "You could just brew me a cup of tea and I would still be impressed by you."

He shuffles closer, his hand travelling up her back; she gasps at the touch, playfully hitting his arm as she removes herself from beside him.

"You do realise that your actions are not particularly professional right now, do you not?" Her eyes turn judgemental, and her demeanour becomes haughty, befitting of her position.

He shrugs, his icy blue eyes glistening with mischief. "What you and I do behind closed doors is not to be the business or concern of any of our servants, guards and knights, Byleth."

"But we are still in plain sight!" The woman points out, rather indignantly. "It is hardly courteous or even appropriate."

"Indeed." He smiles brazenly, his fingertips finding the curve of her waist; he pulls her closer, her knees mere inches from his chest. "However, if my observations are correct, the door is closed."

She quirks a brow. "But is it locked?"

He thinks for a moment, his mind lost in thought; after a minute, he sighs in defeat, removing his hand from underneath her clothing.

"No, it is not." He admits.

"So… Anyone could walk in, if you think about it." The queen argues.

He reaches up to caress her cheek, taking hold of her jaw as he moves closer, inclining his head towards hers. She subconsciously leans into his touch, meeting him halfway before connecting her lips to his. After a few seconds he pulls away, a satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as it lingers mere inches from her own.

"Is that what you think?" He smiles wolfishly. "Or is that exactly what you are hoping for?"

Byleth smirks, capturing his lips once more; the kiss starts off as soft, but it is not long before Dimitri deepens it, his fingers clasping onto her hair as he instinctively pulls her closer, moving her legs so that they are on either side of his hips.

"Hm…" She sighs in contempt. "Maybe a little bit of both."

He rests his forehead against hers, a hearty laugh escaping him.

"One of these days, you are going to get me into trouble." He kisses the tip of her nose. "You are aware of that, right?"

"Of course, and I wager you are going to love it, Your Majesty." She responded.

The pair begin to get comfortable, but before long, the door to his office flies open, causing Dimitri and Byleth to break their focus. Sylvain enters the room with a flouter, accompanied by a rather puzzled Ingrid and a shame-faced Felix.

The redhead takes a couple of steps forward before stopping, noticing the intimacy of the couple's embrace. His amber eyes widen at the sight, her mouth slightly agape in surprise.

"Ah, well, I see that this might not be the best time…" He says, sheepishly, as Felix hits the back of his head.

Dimitri clears his throat in annoyance, narrowing his brow as he glares at their unexpected visitors. "You know it is polite to knock, Sylvain."

"I know, but…" Sylvain shifts his attention between the pair, who stare back at him, the shock of the intrusion causing Byleth's cheeks to redden as she pulls away from Dimitri, removing herself from his grasp. "We wanted to surprise Her Majesty, and I thought that… Well, knocking wouldn't have the same effect, now, would it?"

Dimitri frowns in befuddlement. "Surprise her? What for?"

He swiftly makes his way out of the room, returning only moments later with an abundance of parcels, wrapped delicately in brown paper. In his other hand, a lone balloon tied around his fingers, the paltry magical spell taking it higher than originally anticipated.

"Happy birthday, Your Majesty." Ingrid announced with a soft smile. "The Royal Household said we could not throw a party this year, but the knights pooled together some presents."

Dimitri remains silent, focusing his attention on the young vampire as he regards her in shock and disbelief. He turns to look at Byleth, his eyes widening as the realization of the date dawns.

"It's... Today is your birthday?" He stutters, befuddled.

She nods bashfully, bowing her head as if trying to avert his gaze. She begins to play with the hem of her corset, her eyes trained on the threading. Dimitri takes a step towards her, placing a gentle hand on the curve of her waist.

"Why did you not tell me?" He reaches up to caress her cheek, running his thumb across her bottom lip. "Now it is so late! It is nearly over…"

"I… I… I thought you were busy, you even said so." She whispers softly. "There was too much to do here, and this was not as important."

The blond man sighs. "Byleth, I…"

"Wait a minute…" Sylvain chimes in, holding up his hands as if they are helping him to process what is happening before her. He looks between the pair, his voice tinged with shock and befuddlement. "Are you telling me that His Highness forgot your birthday? And you did not think to remind him?"

"Way to go, Your Boarness." Felix sneers. "You forgot your wife's birthday before your first year of marriage. You are really setting yourself up for failure."

"Felix…" Ingrid holds out a hand, trying to appease the atmosphere.

Byleth, in turn, shakes her head, nervously tugging at the sleeves of her woollen dress. "We had a lot to do today, and I did not want to bother him, it is all."

"You did not want to tell your boyfriend that it was your birthday… Because he was busy?" Sylvain looks at the faces around the room, his brows narrowing in confusion as he focuses his gaze on Dimitri, who shuffles uncomfortably on his feet. "I honestly cannot believe what I am hearing, Goddess above."

"Do not try to make him feel any worse than he already does." Ingrid interjects, regarding Sylvain with an icy glare. "When you are the King, you have a lot of responsibilities and tasks that demand full attention. It is easy to forget things!"

"Like your own wife's birthday?" Felix counters. "Face it, he did not remember because he did not care to remember. Best not to expect too much consideration from His Majesty from now on."

"Felix, enough." The monarch barks. "You had your fun. Now out with you."

"Mind your tongue, hoggy!" The blue-haired man bites back. "You are the one who screwed up. We wanted to make your wife feel welcome here, something that you seem to be actively trying to prevent."

"Felix, Goddess give me strength, do not test me tonight!" The monarch countered, his expression turning bright red from rage. "Out! Now!"

"Fine." The duke's scion complied and left.

"Happy birthday, Your Majesty." Ingrid says, as she follows. "We are sorry for the mess."

"Yeah. Our hearts were in the right place, I swear!" Sylvain defends. "I hope you still can enjoy the gifts we brought you."

The door is shut on their way out. Dimitri lowers his gaze to the floor, the upset of forgetting evident in his expression. He runs a dejected hand through his hair, his palm resting at the nape of his neck. He exhales slowly, training his eyes on Byleth as he focuses his attention on her once more.

"The silks and gifts that would not stop arriving this morning, the invitation to a walk…" He lets out a defeated sigh, his voice lowering to a soft whisper. "Byleth I… I am so sorry. Truly. I do not have words to begin explaining myself."

She remains silent for a moment before responding, shrugging half-heartedly.

"It does not matter." Her previous excitable smile has disappeared, replaced with a nonchalant frown. "It is not important."

She turns her attention back to the packages that Sylvain brought along, her bashful demeanour soon dissipating into one of intrigue and giddiness.

"Can we just focus on something else?" The queen offers. "Perchance we could discuss how beautifully wrapped these gifts are?"

"Byleth, I…" He takes another step forward, his hand instinctively reaching for the small of her back. "I…I really am sorry."

"It really is not worth worrying about, Dimitri." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, biting her bottom lip. "It is just another day…"

"It certainly is not! It is the day you were born!" The king exclaims, his fingers loosening around the ribbon of the balloon as it floats up to the ceiling. "Why did you not tell me it was your birthday?!"

"Because you… You were so busy, and…"

He cuts her off.

"That is not an excuse!" He runs an agitated hand across his face, his gaze softening as he looks at her, his eyes laden with guilt. "I love you, I… I should have remembered."

"We all forget things from time to time…" She offered, weakly.

"Yes, but not one's wife's birthday, Byleth." He shakes his head in disbelief, a humourless laugh escaping him. "I would have planned something special. A special dinner, a ball in your honour, a fireworks display, an opera troupe. At the very least a gift and a damn cake! Instead, I dragged you to my office and handed you dozens of contacts to annotate!"

"It has not been that bad." She smiled, consoling. "I do not mind the quiet, and this is all for a greater good, is it not? In a way, helping build a brighter future for Fódlan is still a gift on its own."

He looks up at her with suddenness.

"Is it? Is it really? I forced you to work, I… I told you that I was too busy to accompany you to a walk. Goddess!" He sighs, glancing at the present that lay discarded on his desk. "Were you ever going to tell me? That I had forgotten?"

She shakes her head. "I could tell that it had slipped your mind when you did not mention it this morning."

He huffed. "And was I the only one? That forgot…"

She responds with a curt not. He exhales sharply, running a disappointed hand through his hair.

He looks harshly at her. "What are you not telling me, beloved? Why have you not just told me?"

A bashful smile blesses Byleth's lips as she lowers her gaze to the floor, her cheeks a shade of crimson.

"I suppose you know my mother has died during childbirth when I was born, right?" She begins.

The blond nods. "Yes, of course. You have told me before."

"Well, my father… Jeralt loved my mother very much." The queen says, a wistful and distant gaze befalling her face. "He struggled with the idea of celebrating the life of what killed the love of his own. My aunt and uncle would try to make up for it, but they feared displeasing my father, so the 20th of Horsebow Moon was never reason for joy while I was growing up. I am accustomed to it, and it does not hold any weight over me any longer."

"I see." He breathed out, and then reaches up to caress her cheek, running his thumb across her bottom lip. "I am so sorry, Byleth. I will do everything in my power to make it up to you next year."

"You really do not have to, Dimitri." She insisted. "I told you it does not matter."

"It does to me." He retorts, a rashness to his voice. "You mean the world to me, beloved. I cherish you with everything that I am, and I mean it when I say that I will make it up to you."

She smiles sadly up at him, her fingers tugging at the lapels of his waistcoat; he wraps his arms around her, holding her close to his chest. "Is that a promise?"

"Yes." He rests his forehead against hers, leaning in to kiss the bridge of her nose. "It most certainly is."

He picks up and leads her into his chambers. He spent the rest of his night proving that all he wants of life is serving his wife hand and foot.