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Chapter Text

When she was younger, Maribelle had spent a great deal of time imagining what it would be like when she was finally proposed to. The scenario went like this: her beloved would get down on one knee and proclaim their everlasting, undying devotion to her. After vowing never to leave her side, a flock of the most beautiful doves would fly by in the background and trumpets would blare all across Ylisse to celebrate their union. Now that she was older, Maribelle recalled her younger self’s delusions with more than a bit of embarrassment, but the overall sentiment was still there. The most important part was that she was by the side of the one she loved forever and always.

If younger Maribelle could have known how her proposal would really turn out, she would have broken down in a fit of tears.

“Marry me, Maribelle,” croaked out Chrom as he lay on a pallet in the stable behind Ylisstol castle. Maribelle stared down at the prince-turned-exalt she was healing, her nose scrunched up from the pungent smell of horse manure.

“What was that, Chrom?” she asked, pulling the thread she was stitching slightly harder than was truly necessary. Chrom winced at the sudden pain.

“I said...marry me, Maribelle,” he repeated more slowly this time. So she had heard him right the first time. Pursing her lips, Maribelle put away the last of her medical supplies.

“Clearly you hit your head harder than you thought. Once I’m done here, I’ll head to Frederick immediately and he can recommend a tonic to deal with your brain damage.” The prince had taken a rather nasty spill during a riding expedition with a visiting ambassador from Ferox. Having happened to be nearby pouring over a book on the royal family lineage, Maribelle had rushed over at once, moving his body with the help of some servants to the stable and performing a rushed healing while the castle’s head cleric was fetched. She thought she had done a rather good job given the short notice of it all, but clearly not since he was spouting such nonsense.

Chrom weakly struggled to sit up.  Maribelle pushed him back down with one hand.

“I’m...not kidding. Marry me,” he repeated for the third time. She had had just about enough of this game now. Had she been dealing with anybody else, Maribelle would have given them a stern tongue lashing, but this was her prince, the brother of her best friend, and her patient, so she held her tongue.

Keeping her harshest thoughts in her head, Maribelle replied, “Please stay down until the cleric gets here. She’ll know what to do for you.”

“You don’t have to answer me now. Just...think about it.” The sleep spell she’d woven into the pain relieving spell must have been kicking in, for the prince’s speech was getting slower as his eyes began to droop. As always when she looked at him for more than a few seconds, Maribelle was taken away by how blue his eyes were, so deep and beautiful, just like a clear pool of water.

Just like Lissa’s.

“I’m not the one you should be worrying about right now,” she replied, looking away from him pointedly. “I’m not the one who fell head first off a horse going gods only know how many miles per hour.”

“Promise me you’ll think about it,” he said in that blasted princely tone of his. Maribelle gave an irritated sign.

“If I promise you this, will you finally get some rest?” she asked. A small smile curled around his pale lips. Chrom nodded ever so slightly.

“Very well,” said Maribelle with a huff and roll of her eyes. “I promise to dwell long and hard on your impromptu and rather uncouth proposal. Now lay back before you have two head wounds to worry about.”

This seemed to satisfied the man; he laid down and closed his eyes without anymore complaints. Maribelle stared up at the ceiling, wondering how she’d gotten herself into this situation. The stench of the stables must have been getting to her. How did Sumia stand to spend so many hours in this place?

It wasn’t much longer before the cleric’s team arrived with a stretcher to move the prince. They thanked Maribelle for jumping in as quickly as she did, and she brushed off their compliments because no really it was nothing, any other noble of her caliber would have done the same in her place. Then she stepped back to let the professionals take him away.

The rest of the day Maribelle gave no more thought to the prince or to the strange conversation they’d had in the hay and filth.

*~*~*

A normal week passed by without any more proposals from delirious princes or medical emergencies. She spent it as she normally did, studying up on her etiquette and spending every possible moment she could by Lissa’s side. It wasn’t the most eventful life, but Maribelle relished the calmness after the ragtag rush of war.

Naturally she told no one of what had transpired in the stables, not even Lissa to whom she normally told everything. Even the best kept secrets travelled fast at court, and there was no need to stir up any more drama when they had all finally managed to calm down from the last major scandal to rock the royal family. No, this was one secret Maribelle was going to take to her grave.

She probably would have kept it till then too had Chrom not managed to ambush her on her way back to her quarters after supper.

“Milord,” she said immediately, dropping into the customary curtsy. Chrom sighed.

“Maribelle, really. I thought we were past such formalities. Have you already forgotten the conversation we had?” asked the prince. Straightening up, Maribelle looked him squarely in the eye despite being several inches shorter.

“With all due respect, milord, that was in the midst of war. Back here in Ylisstol things are...different. The lines are more deeply drawn,” she replied though not unkindly. “Even us speaking like this might cause rumors.”

“Let them talk,” scoffed Chrom. “I shouldn’t have to avoid speaking with one of my oldest friends just because it might get some old crone’s smallclothes in a twist.” A pleasant warmth ran through Maribelle at being called “old friend”, though she didn’t let it show on her face. She was long past the age where mild compliments should have had such an effect on her.

As if on cue a pair of dignitaries walked by them, bowing at sight at Chrom then  whispering behind their hands when they saw who the prince was standing with. Maribelle turned her chin up, refusing to give them the satisfaction of knowing their words had reached her. Chrom watched the silent exchange, then cocked an eyebrow and grinned.

“Why my lady, would you do me the honor of accompanying me into the gardens where we can continue our conversation in private?” he asked in an overblown snobbish accent. Taking a deep bow, Chrom extended an arm out to Maribelle. She knew what they were doing was childish and probably wildly out of bounds, but that didn’t stop her from looping her arm through his with a poorly suppressed giggle.

“Why of course. Let us away, post-haste,” she replied. The two all but skipped through the hallway, ignoring the bewildered looks from servants and other members of the court. They didn’t unlink arms until they reached the very center of the gardens. Upon their arrival, Chrom burst out laughing.

“Did you see the look on Madame Prilant’s face? It looked like she was about to give birth,” he gasped. Maribelle pulled her arm from his. Chrom had a rather undignified laugh for a prince, closer to a guffaw than the polite chuckle she and Lissa had been taught growing up.

“You shouldn't be so crass about your courtiers, milo- Chrom,” she corrected herself quickly as Chrom finally managed to calm down, his face still red. He wiped a tear from his eye.

“You’re right, as always.”

It was a beautiful day outside, calm and quiet with just a hint of cold that betrayed that autumn was right around the corner.. The two took off walking through the gardens at a comfortable speed. By this late in the year all the flowers had bloomed and the whole area was alive with every color imaginable. They stopped before a group of bright yellow flowers.

“The gardens were Emmeryn’s favorite place in the whole castle,” said Chrom wistfully, reaching out to touch one of the soft petals. “Every she wasn’t spending with me and Lissa or undoing the mess my father created she spent out here, planting to her hearts content.” It was the first time Maribelle had heard him freely mention the former Exalt’s name since her death. She didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing.

Unaffected by her silence, Chrom continued, “She always tried to get Lissa and I to plant with her, but we would rather stomp through the flowers than learn about them. These were her favorites.” Chrom paused, then frowned. “Gods, what was the name of this one...?”

“Chrysanthemum” replied Maribelle immediately, reaching out for the yellow plant as well. “They symbolize optimism and joy.” Chrom looked at Maribelle for a few moments, then smiled.

“That does sound like something Emm would plant. Thank you.” Maribelle shook her head.

“Why it’s nothing, milord. The art of flowers is a basic study in any proper noblewoman’s repertoire,” said Maribelle humbly. Chrom smirked.

“So we’re back to my lord now, huh?”

“Ah, forgive me, you know how old habits die hard. I promise to do my best to-”

“Have you given thought to what I asked you last week?”

Maribelle froze. She looked up at Chrom who had an unreadable expression on his face. “Yes,” she admitted. “And I have come to the conclusion that your declaration was the result of a rusty staff on my part. I do sincerely apologize.”

“No,” said Chrom sternly. There was an earnest tone to his voice Maribelle had never heard before. “I mean, yes, the staff was probably rusty, but that’s not the reason I said what I did. I truly wish for you to marry me.”

“Could you please keep your voice down!” she exclaimed, looking around wildly. They seemed to be alone in the garden, but you could never truly be sure when it came to royal life. Chrom didn’t shift his gaze.

“You’ve had a week to think about it. I don’t mean to rush you,but I need to know sooner rather than later.” His words were blunt but gentle. Maribelle fought to keep her bewildered expression under control.

“It’s just- I-” It wasn’t often the noble found herself at a loss for words. She really, really hated it. “What brought this about?”

Chrom regarded her for several moments, then spoke, “Rebuilding a nation is not easy. Ylisse has gone through two wars in the past two decades now, and the fault lines from both still run deep. If I am to keep this peace, really, truly create a peace that will not shatter at the first sign of conflict, then I will need help. I need someone by my side as devoted to the people as I am. I need someone like you.”

Maribelle searched Chrom’s face for something, anything that would indicate that he was joking or that was all some big dream and she’d wake up in her own satin bed at any moment. When she didn’t respond, Chrom took that as an indication to keep going.

“You’re the heiress to one of the oldest noble houses in Ylisse. You know all there is to know about court life and your knowledge of Ylissean law is second to none. With you by my side, Ylisse would flourish in ways it has not in over 20 years.” Maribelle blinked, slightly taken aback.

“You have clearly thought this through,” she mumbled, for how else was one supposed to reply to such high praise? “I appreciate your kind attestment of my virtues, I truly do, but-” There were a million things she could have said, a million reasons why this was such a bad idea, why it was not nearly as simple as he was suggesting, but one question jumped to the forefront of them all. “What about Naira?”

Chrom’s face darkened instantly at the tactician’s name. “Naira is in the past,” he said, keeping his voice as even as possible. “My priority right now is the future.”

He didn’t say any more on the subject, so Maribelle assumed it was not up for discussion. She knew that talking about his former fiancee was not an easy task for the man. There was so much more that needed to be said, but the middle of the royal garden was not the place to say it all. Chrom closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them again.

“I take it you don’t have an answer for me then?” asked Chrom.

“If you would be so kind as to answer just two more questions for me, milord,” asked Maribelle. Chrom nodded.

“Ask whatever you’d like.”

“What would happen were I to decline your invitation?” asked Maribelle.

“I would be most saddened," he replied slowly, choosing every word carefully, "but of course I’d respect you decision. And I would hope that my rudeness would not ruin your friendship with either me or Lissa.” Maribelle shook her head, hard.

“Gods forbid! Nothing you could do could ever erase my feelings for Lissa,” she replied. What a silly thought!

“Will that be all?” he asked, but Maribelle shook her head once again.

“Just one more.” She steeled herself, then asked, “Do you love me?”

There was silence. Her voice was calm, but on the inside Maribelle was anything but. She watched several emotions play over Chrom’s face, and not for the first time she wondered exactly what god they both had angered in a past life to put themselves in such an unfair situation.

“No,” he said quietly. “I do not.”

Maribelle nodded. It was what she expected to hear, but that did not lessen the words’ impact any less. She opened her mouth to say something, but Chrom beat her to it.

“However,” he continued, “I do love the people of Ylisse, and I know you do as well. I know it’s not the ideal base for a marriage, but I believe it to be enough.”

His words hung in the air for a long while, drifting between the petals and blossoms. Under any other circumstances a proposal in such a venue would have been romantic beyond words. Still, Maribelle wasn’t one to dwell on what could not have been.

“I thank you for your honesty,” she replied, truly meaning it. Relieved, Chrom’s featured softened.

“So when can I expect a reply?”

“You’ll have your reply by this time tomorrow. That I can promise you,” said Maribelle curtly. Chrom nodded, then bowed deeply.

“You have my thanks. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must head back to my quarters. No doubt Frederick will be out for blood if I’m even a second late.” It wasn’t a particularly funny joke, but she laughed anyway.

“Good night, Chrom.”

“Good night, Maribelle.”

She watched him walk away, the flowers tugging at his cape as if trying to pull him back. Then as soon as he was out of sight, she sat on the nearest log and thought for a long, long time.

*~*~*

That night was the worst Maribelle had ever endured and yes, she was counting the time she had spent as Gangrel’s hostage. So intense was her tossing that she fell out of bed not once but twice. No matter how she moved or willed it away, her conversation with Chrom replayed over and over again in her mind like a faucet that refused to shut off.

It would be lying to say she wasn’t a tiny bit pleased by his offer. Of all the ladies he knew in court he had come to her! Her! It was beyond flattering. What young child hadn’t dreamed of one day becoming royalty and ruling over the land? It was like something straight out of the fairy tales Sumia was was always going on about.

But then the butterflies would pass and she’d be dragged back to the present and realize just what Chrom was asking of her. Most noble marriages were done for strategic gain rather than out of any sense of romance, that she’d always known, but it hadn’t stopped her for dreaming of a more romantic future for herself. Plus it was one thing to dream of being queen- but actually taking over the role? Even if she was suited for the role, Maribelle was not the most well liked lady at court; there was a very good reason why for the longest time Lissa had been her sole companion.

Oh gods, Lissa. Maribelle’s stomach twisted. Sniffing, she held her pillow tighter.

She should be grateful for this opportunity to once and for all become a part of Lissa’s family. It was more than she had any right to ask for she should have been overjoyed, ecstatic even. And yet...Maribelle sighed, hugging her pillow tightly to her chest.

There was only one logical course of action: she had to turn him down. As soon as the sun was up, she’d head to Chrom’s quarters and politely but firmly reject his offer. It was the most proper course of action.

Making a decision should have made her feel better, but the horrible knot in her center didn’t abate. Still, Maribelle closed her eyes and did her best to rest.

The next morning dawned bright and clear with Maribelle feeling more horrible than she could recall feeling in a long, long time.

There she stood outside Chrom’s door, her hand inches from the polished wood. All she needed to do was knock, say what she needed to say to say, and go on with her day. All she needed to do was knock. Her hand hovered, unmoving.

“Oh, Maribelle. You’re here early.”

Maribelle jumped back in surprise, nearly tripping backwards over the hem of her dress. Chrom looked down at her with a confused expression. One side of his hair was mussed up in all directions, quite like a certain knight they both knew. Coughing slightly, Maribelle straightened up.

“Good morning. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“Don’t worry, it was time for me to get up anyway. What was it you needed?”

The whole speech she’d had prepared flew out of her head. Years later, Maribelle would look back on this moment and wonder what in the holy name of Naga she’d been thinking. She’d never know why the words caught in her throat the way they did or why, as she looked up into Chrom’s eyes, she found herself drawn to the twinge of sadness she’d never noticed before. One day she’d look back at this morning, her standing in front of the prince’s room while he stood with behead in his pajamas, as the moment where her life went out of control.

But at that moment, all she could say was one thing.

“I’ve come to accept your proposal.”

Chapter Text

“You’re marrying Chro~m! You’re marrying Chro~m!”

Glancing at her friend in the mirror, Maribelle marveled at how high Lissa could jump in such a restricting dress. The bed had been squeaking on and off for the past hour since she had shared the news news of her engagement with the princess, and it was probably on the verge of collapsing completely if she didn’t intervene in some way. More amused than upset, Maribelle picked the brush off the boudoir she was sitting at and said,

“Lissa, darling, I appreciate the enthusiasm, but please do quit jumping about. You are better than that.”

Lissa fell backwards with an excited giggle, sending several pillows tumbling to the ground.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t help it! This is all so exciting!” she exclaimed. Maribelle knew she should probably reprimand her for such behavior, but the Lissa’s ecstasy was absolutely infectious; besides, there was no way she could stay ever mad or even mildly irritated at her. This was the first moment alone the two had had since the engagement, and just being with Lissa calmed Maribelle down more than even a cup of the finest Valmese tea.

Very little had changed in the two days since Maribelle had accepted Chrom’s proposal. They’d decided to keep the engagement quiet for the time being, agreeing to tell only their family and closest friends while they got all the details sorted out. However, they’d argued over who got to tell Lissa with Maribelle winning out in the end. If Lissa ever got secretly engaged and she heard the news from anyone but the girl herself, there would be bloodshed. It was only fair she do the same thing with the situation reversed.

Maribelle pulled the brush through a lock of her hair, keeping one eye on Lissa the entire time. More gently than before, she drawled out, “Excitement is all good and well, but that doesn’t mean you need to fall off the bed like a monkey out of a tree. Imagine what a sight you’ll be in your maid of honor outfit with your head bashed in!” Lissa’s eyes went wide.

“I’m going to be your maid of honor?” she asked in a hushed, awed tone. Maribelle sat down next to her best friend and took both her hands in her own.

“It would be a disgrace on my honor to let anyone else near the position."

Lissa sighed happily, putting her hands to her cheeks.

“This is so amazing. My best friend and my best brother- okay, my only brother- are getting married. It’s like a dream come true,” she said wistfully. Maribelle could only nod.

She wished she could share in Lissa’s excitement, she really truly did, but it was hard to be that excited when the truth had yet to fully sink in for her. In a few short months she’d be Queen of Ylisse, helping to defend and rule the realm and protect all of its people far and wide from the lowliest goatherd to the most prestigious of nobles.

Some moments she wondered if she’d wake up and this would all turn out to be some dream.

Some moments she wished she would.

“Lissa dear, come here. Let’s see what can be done to save your hair before we head out to lunch,” said Maribelle, glancing at the bouncing curls of Lissa’s pigtails. Lissa obediently slid off the bed and sat down at Maribelle’s feet. With a careful air that would have impressed even Frederick, Maribelle slowly undid the other girl’s hair. Lissa’s golden curls fell far past her shoulder blades, landing squarely down her mid-back. Maribelle swept a hand through it, impressed.

“I swear your hair gets longer every time I work on it,” she mused. “Its got to be an inch longer at least.”

“That’s cause it’s hair, Mar. Growing is what it does.”  Unlike Maribelle’s own hair, which was closer to the color and texture of dull wet straw, Lissa’s was soft and silky with a hue akin to that of a canary. As children Maribelle had often chastised the younger girl for being so careless with her hair. Lissa would always reply with some smart comment or switch the topic to one she found more interesting, such as frog catching or jumping in mud puddles. The memory of those long gone days left a surprising smile on her face and ache in her chest. She picked up the brush and began to smooth the locks out.

“There are ladies who would literally go to war for natural curls like these, Lissa, and you don’t even take care of them!” she said, tugging through one particularly stubborn knot. Lissa made a gagging noise.

“Hair care is so boring though! Ladies like you and Sumia can deal with all of that. Besides, remember what happened last time I tried to cut my own hair?” she argued. Maribelle shuddered.

“Please, don’t even mention it. I’m still having nightmares.”

Lissa laughed, full and clear, and Maribelle laughed along with her. This was it, this was everything she’d ever wanted. If marrying Chrom was what it took to have a life full of blissful days like this, then so be it.

As if she could read her thoughts Lissa closed her eyes and leaned back against Maribelle’s legs.

“I can’t wait to have a sister again,” she sighed. Maribelle said nothing.

When Maribelle had finally gotten Lissa’s hair into a hairdo that could almost be considered acceptable for a princess, only to have her protest and eventually settle on a more formal version of her standard pigtails, the two finally left for lunch. Their footsteps were thunderous within the stone walls of the castle, echoing as if they were the only two there. As beautiful as Lissa’s home was, it was just as lonely. No no, she needed to stop thinking like that. It was her home now as well, not just Lissa’s.

“All rise for Princess Lissa of House Ylisse and her companion, Lady Maribelle of House Themis.”

The chairs scraped and the glasses clinked as all the nobles in the the dining room scrambled to their feet at the footman’s announcement. Lissa and Maribelle entered the room to a sea of eyes staring intently at them. When they sat in their seats, Lissa gave the tiniest eye roll and muttered, “Does he have to announce us every single time?” Maribelle nodded, but didn’t reply.

The lunch that day was nothing special, just a meal with some of the lesser ranking duchesses and lords who lived at the court. It may have only been a minor meal, but the castle chefs wouldn’t let a small detail like that stop them from putting on a show. Maribelle took one bite and all but sighed. One bite of it was better than everything they’d eaten out on the front combined. Stahl would have salivated over even a whiff of chicken and Gaius would probably have his hand elbow deep in the pudding by now while Miriel inspected each and every entree to calculate the exact nutritional output they contained and...

“Mar? Mar! Are you alright?”

Maribelle blinked, her heart strangely heavy in her chest. She turned to see Lissa’s concerned face peering at her.

“Why yes, of course. What ever gave you the idea otherwise?” asked Maribelle. She smoothed her napkin as if she hadn’t a care in the world, but Lissa knew her too well to fall for it.

“You just totally spaced out there. Is everything alright?” asked the princess.

“Everything’s fine my dear, really. I just got a little...lost in thought thinking about our companions, that’s all.” It was almost embarrassing to admit how often she’d found herself reminiscing about their friends in the weeks since returning home. Clearly she needed to work harder on keeping her bearings if it was becoming so obvious. Lissa’s eyes softened.

“I miss everyone too,” she replied softly. She looked like she was going to say something in addition, but was cut off  by a booming voice from a baron with an alarmingly large amount of hair sprouting from his ears.

“So where is our war hero Exalt today? Out there skewering more Plegian scum?” asked the man. The princess blinked in surprise at his question, eyes wide.

“Oh, um, Chrom- I mean the Exalt, he’s out um, he’s-” Maribelle winced. Half the table had stopped all conversation and was now watching Lissa sputter her way into oblivion. Lissa was a talkative person most of the time, but then there were moments like these when she could barely string a sentence together. Coughing to draw attention to herself, Maribelle leaned forward.

“The Exalt is out with a team inspecting the capitol’s bridges for signs of extensive damage. I assure you that he is deeply saddened that he couldn’t dine with us and plans to personally make it up to each and every person present today,” said Maribelle smoothly. Satisfied with her answer, the baron returned to stealing extra pieces of lamb from the tray when the maid wasn’t looking. Relief flooded Lissa’s face.

“What would I ever do without you, Mar?” whispered the princess. Maribelle took a sip of her water and smiled.

“Who knows? Luckily, you’ll never find out.”

The lunch felt like it lasted half an eternity, with Lissa stumbling over more questions and Maribelle jumping in to bail her out each time. In this manner they managed to keep the conversation on harmless topics from ballroom dancing to the current rate of silk to the rebuilding effort now that the war was over. Maribelle didn’t even have time to think about the Shepherds much less get sad about them. All things considered it was going well until...

“I mean he is a good kid, but the lad’s no Emmeryn.”

Everyone at the table froze. It was the same baron who had spoken of Chrom earlier, now red in the face and bellowing loudly for anyone who cared to listen while swinging a leg of chicken dangerously close to some poor woman’s ear. Smile never leaving her face, Maribelle clutched her fork with white knuckles. She saw Lissa retract slightly, but if the man noticed the girls’ discomfort, he was far too intoxicated to care.

“The girl was practically a saint! Pretty as one too. Compared to her, the boy is just lacking.”

No one interjected, no one attempted to stop the baron’s tirade. At that moment, Maribelle suddenly understood why the common folk disliked the nobility so much.

“It doesn’t help he looks exactly like his father. The apple might have fallen far from the tree in Emmeryn’s case, but it’s hard to get that lucky the second time.

That was it. Maribelle slammed her glass down onto the table hard, rattling the plates and drawing the table’s attention toward her. The ranting baron paused mouth open.

“Is something the matter, Lady Maribelle?” he asked. Ugh, she hated to even hear her name on his lips.

“Forgive my interruption, but I forgot completely to ask of your various affairs. ” She stressed the word affairs in a way that made the baron squirm. “How is your wife doing? Word has it that she’s due any day now, no?”

“Yes, my wife is doing well,” replied the baron, genuinely puzzled. “But I don’t see what that has to do with-”

“Oh, wonderful! I’m so glad to hear that. It’s good to know you’re supporting your wife in such an important time for your family. I presume supporting your family is exactly what you’ve been doing recently at that establishment you like to visit, Pink Lace I believe is the name? A fine establishment from what I’ve heard, though the servers are just a tad too unclothed for my tastes. I assume your wife knows all about your visits?” she asked. The baron was beet red now, from the tip of his nose to the base of his bushy ears, but Maribelle wasn’t done.  

“Ah well, minor details. So I take it that since you have all this free time to frequent the more questionable venues of Ylisstol, you got all those charges against you figured out? It was such a nasty business; I’m so glad it’s all water under the bridge now. What was it about again? Tax evasion? No no, that wasn’t it. Mortgage fraud?”

Lissa gawked openly at her friend, but Maribelle had eyes only for the baron. The nobleman was at a loss for words, his mouth opening and closing like a fish that had washed upon shore.

“I- that’s all- I mean,” he sputtered. Maribelle smiled a smile that looked calm and serene only to those who didn’t know her.

“It’s good to know we have men like you critiquing the choices of our royal family. Truly you are an inspiration to us all.”

The baron bolted to his feet, knocking over a glass of wine, and after a string of hastily stammered excuses, bolted from the room. The other lunch guests looked this way and that, no one daring to look Maribelle in the eye. Maribelle calmly returned to her dish.

The rest of the meal continued without incident, though the atmosphere was significantly more subdued. When the group finally disbanded, few bothered to even acknowledge Maribelle, instead giving their farewells to the princess and thanking her for hosting such a splendid event. Maribelle stood silently by her friend’s side the entire time. Finally, the lunch ended and the girls left the dining room. Maribelle was starting to get worried; it wasn’t like Lissa to go this long without saying anything.

“Lissa, dear, about earlier I-” she began, but Lissa cut her off.

“That was so cool!” the princess exclaimed, her hand’s flailing wildly. “Did you see the look on his ugly face? I thought he was going to burst into tears right at the table!”

“ I couldn’t just sit by while he dragged your family’s good name through the mud,” replied Maribelle humbly, more relieved than she could admit. Lissa nodded in agreement.

“That baron really grinds my gears,” she exclaimed, her hands balling into fists. “Comparing Chrom to Dad, jeez! I’ve never even met the guy, but I know Chrom is a thousand times better than he was! A million times even! Just who does he think he is, talking about him like that?”

“The lioness need not concern herself with the opinions of common swine,” retorted Maribelle.

“Swine’s too good for him! He’s a...He’s a...no good poopy face!”  

“Why Lissa,” gasped Maribelle in mock horror. “Such language!”

“I can’t help it, I’m all mad now!” growled Lissa. “ I can’t believe I just sat there while he talked about my family like that. Ugh!” Maribelle gave her friend’s shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

“You did the right thing. Imagine the scandal it would cause if the princess was caught arguing with members of her own court. My reputation, on the other hand, will likely be unscathed from this encounter.  It’s best this way.” For a moment it looked like Lissa was going to argue with her friend, clearly not satisfied with her explanation, but instead she scuffed her foot against the ground.

“Maybe it would have been better for everyone had I not been born a princess at all,” she muttered. Maribelle’s eyes went wide. Before she could say something to run this train of thought into the ground where it belonged, a voice called out to the two.

“Princess Lissa! Princess Lissa!” They both turned to see a panting maid running up to them. Gasping for air, she dropped into a curtsy and said, “Your Grace, you are needed in the third floor music room at once.”

“Third floor music room?” repeated Lissa incredulously. “Why do I need to- oh gods!” Lissa smacked her forehead and groaned. “Clarinet lessons were today! Music Mistress is going to skin me alive!” Lissa turned to Maribelle. “We’ll talk more later about ‘you know what’! See you!”  

And just like that, Maribelle was on her own.

Back when she’d lived in Themis, Maribelle had had next to no moments of free time, thanks to her mother making sure that every moment of her time that wasn’t filled with parties or galas was spent on lessons to help better herself. All that had changed upon her arrival in Ylisstol. Maribelle’s schedule now revolved so tightly around Lissa’s that without her friend around, she didn’t quite know what to do with herself.

She could always head over to the barracks. It wasn’t as busy as it had been during the war, since each Shepherd had gone back to their respective homes to help rebuild, but there was always a friendly face or two hanging around there. However, as much as she adored her other friends, Maribelle wasn’t sure there’s was the company she needed at the moment.

She finally decide to head down to the library. There she attempted to continue the book on zoning laws she’d started earlier that week, but she found the experience lacking without Lissa standing over her shoulder groaning about how boring a book without pictures was. It didn’t help that some of the ladies from the earlier lunch were in the library as well. When they thought she wasn’t looking they’d glance her way, then turn away quickly as soon as she looked over at them. She considered confronting them on their rudeness, ultimately deciding against it. If she started a fight every time someone said something bad about her, she’d never get a moment’s rest.

Eventually she gave up on the library, placing the book back on the shelf and walking out, making sure to cast a withering glance in the direction of the gossiping women before she left. With nothing better to do till Lissa got out of her music lesson, Maribelle returned to her quarters.

There was hardly any more to do in her room than there had been back in the library. She crossed the room back and forth, picking up things then putting them away, feeling unusually restless. Had the room always been this small or was she really spacing out nowadays, just like Lissa had mentioned? Fighting back the compulsion to completely rearrange her bedroom, Maribelle’s eyes fell on a sleek back case nearly hidden away behind her bed.  She pulled out the case, wiped away the layer of dust covering it, and opened it to find her old violin.

Maribelle’s first violin had been a thing to behold once, a sleek maple beauty that had produced the sweetest note with just the gentlest of touches. She’d had it for far longer than she could remember; just looking at it transported her back to a time she almost couldn’t remember back when she could barely clutch the instrument in her chubby hands and her mother had stood over her shoulder with a watchful gaze while she repeated the fingerings over and over again.

She had a new violin now, one that was unarguably stronger and better sounding than this one, but that didn’t stop the surge of affection she felt holding the little wooden instrument. Maribelle placed it under her neck and plucked one of its strings. It was out of tune and warbled slightly, but the calming sound she remembered was still there. She didn’t even remember bringing it with her to Ylisstol, but she was glad she had.

There was no sense in wasting a perfectly good violin. She knew a marvelous carpenter who’d be able to give it a new varnish and it would also need to be re-strung- were cat guts still in fashion or would she be better off getting steel strings? Just having a project again made Maribelle feel fresh, invigorated. She was so engrossed in analyzing the violin that she didn’t hear the man at the door knock once, twice, three times. It was finally on the fourth knock she was brought back to reality and went to open the door. In the door frame stood Frederick, large and imposing as ever, towering over Maribelle with his layers of armor.

“Good afternoon, milady,” said the knight with a low bow. “I haven’t caught you at a bad time I hope?”

“Not at all. What can I help you with?” Maribelle gestured for the man to come in, but he shook his head.

“Milord has requested your presence in his study,” replied Frederick. Maribelle quirked an eyebrow. It wasn’t like Chrom to summon her, or anyone really, so formally.

Turning her violin over in her hands, she said, “Tell His Grace that I am in the middle of something very important right now and I will be over-”

“He requests your presence at once , milady,” interrupted Frederick. “He said it is of the utmost importance you come immediately.”

Maribelle had to bite her lip to keep from saying something she knew she shouldn’t. They weren’t even married, yet here was was summoning her like some chambermaid! Begrudgingly, she put her violin down.

“Very well. Can’t keep the prince waiting.”

Frederick said little to her on the way over, though Maribelle didn’t mind. He was a man of actions, not words, and his silences were rarely due to a personal offense. However, there was one thing she wanted to speak to him about and now seemed a good a time as any to bring it up.

“So Sir Frederick, how have you been faring since the last time we spoke?” she asked as nonchalantly as she could manage.  

“I’ve been following my usual routine, milady. The day to day life of a knight varies little.”

“The same could be said for the life of a lady. However I suspect one lifestyle is more likely to get you killed than the other.” He didn’t laugh, but Maribelle saw a smile tug at the corner of his lips.

“You could say that. Both are vital roles to the maintenance and operation of a good household. ”

“Oh Frederick, you truly are one of a kind. If only there were more servants like you,” sigh Maribelle.  

“I am only doing my job,” he replied.

The next few moments passed in silence. She knew what she wanted to discuss, but actually putting it into words was harder than she had originally planned. Then again, this was Frederick she was dealing with. The direct route was probably the best one.

“So Fredrick, I take it by now that you’ve heard the good news?” Maribelle finally asked.

“The good news about what?” asked the knight as they headed up the stairs to Chrom’s study.

“About my engagement to Chrom.”

“Ah yes, I’ve heard all about that...matter.” Something about the way Frederick said “that matter” made her uneasy, but Maribelle didn’t dare press him. There were few people in Ylisse who intimidated Maribelle; Frederick the Wary was one of those select few.

“They should re-brand you as ‘Frederick the Honest’,” retorted Maribelle, her tone slightly sharper than it had been before.

Fredrick must have noticed the change in her demeanor, for he replied, “My apologies, milady, I meant no disrespect.” Maribelle shrugged.

“No apologies are needed. Honesty should be the basis of any true friendship.”  Maribelle paused, choosing her next words very carefully. “And that is why as your friend, I would like your honest opinion on our engagement.”

They were right in front of the study now, the tall doors looming ominously before them. This was a part of the castle Maribelle rarely came to, the section that belonged solely to the Exalt. Frederick studied Maribelle closely for several moments, and the girl willed herself not to look away from his piercing gaze.

“Oftentimes people ask for honesty when what they truly desire is an echo chamber for their own thoughts,” he finally replied. It was a fair answer, though not the one she’d wanted to hear.  

“Are you sure you weren’t a lawyer or some other kind of smooth talker in a past life?” she asked suspiciously. Frederick just smiled.

“I have spent many years at court, milady. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Turning away from her, Frederick knocked on the polished wood. Maribelle tugged at her shirt and smoothed out her bangs, suddenly aware of how they stuck up more than they should.

“Milord, I have brought Lady Maribelle, just as you requested,” called the knight. There was a pause and then came Chrom’s voice,

“Ah, send her in please.”

The door opened and Frederick stepped aside. Back straight, head held high, Maribelle strode into the study. Whatever the room contained could not have been any worse than fighting for her life against a pack of Risen.

As it turned out, Maribelle was wrong. Vey wrong. For what she found inside the study was Chrom perched awkwardly on an armchair, gripping a teacup so tightly it could shatter at any moment, while across from him her parents snacked on biscuits and tea.

Compared to the reality before her, she’d have taken the Risen any day.

Chapter Text

The music room on the third floor of Ylisstol castle had been designed with the simple goal of having the best acoustics anywhere within the capitol, if not within all of Ylisse itself. Even the tiniest whisper of a flute reverberated through the walls of the chamber and echoed out into the main floor hallway, giving anyone who happened to walk by the distinct pleasure of listening to a cheerful melody as they went about their day.

That was assuming, of course, that Lissa was not the one practicing at the time.

Lissa blew into her flute for the umpeenth time that day and once again got the same screeching note for her troubles. Down the hall, a maid dropped the blanket she was folding in shock and a cat yowled. Lissa’s music tutor winced but tried to cover her motion up as a slight gesture.

“Remember Lissa, purse your lips. The embouchure is everything. Try it again from the 8th measure.”

Lissa huffed under her breath. She sounded just as bad now on her second hour of practicing as she had when she’d begun. You think by now Music Mistress would have realized she was a lost cause- flutes were made for the like of Maribelle and Emmeryn, not her.  

Thinking of Emmeryn sparked the usual ache in her chest. This ache has become so familiar to her that it almost doesn’t hurt. Biting the inside of her lip to keep from scowling in an un-princess like manner, Lissa attempted to play her flute once more. The note that followed was so horrendous that Naga herself must have wept tears. With a hand on her heart and a scowl on her face, Music Mistress signalled for Lissa to take a break.

Liss sighed. Whatever Maribelle and Chrom were up to, it had to be better than this.

*~*~*

“Oh Mar Bear! Oh Belle! We’ve missed you so much!” cried Maribelle’s father, throwing his arms around the girl. Since the Duke of Themis was such a large man, Maribelle had to squirm to avoid suffocating in his grip. As she pulled away, she saw Chrom smile to himself. Maribelle made a mental note to murder him later.

“We haven’t heard from you in so long, my dear!” her father exclaimed.

“4 months, 15 days, and 7 hours since we last received any sort of word from you to be precise, but who’s keeping track?”

Maribelle turned to her mother. Unlike her father, her mother had stayed seated in her chair, calmly sipping at her tea. At her side sat snuggled her sleek white cat, Precious. Precious opened one eye lazily and glared at Maribelle. She glared back at it.

“My apologies Mother, Father. I’ve been quite...busy. May I ask what you’re doing here?” asked Maribelle as evenly as she could manage. Her face already hurt from fake smiling. Her father pulled out a handkerchief and wiped at his forehead.

“Prince Chro- I mean His Excellency invited us here,” said the Duke, nodding politely in Chrom’s direction. Chrom clearly looked uncomfortable, but Maribelle wasn’t exactly in the mindset to spare him any pity. Chrom gestured at the seat.

“Maribelle, sir, why don’t you sit down so we can get started,” Chrom suggested.

Maribelle squeezed in the space between her mother and her father. Glowering at Maribelle for making her give up her perfect spot on the couch,  Precious tucked herself under the Duchess’s arm, and purred loudly. Somehow Maribelle knew the cat was doing that just to bother her.

“So for what reason do we have the honor of meeting with the Exalt today?” asked the Duke.

Chrom glanced at Maribelle. Maribelle took a sudden interest in stirring her tea.

She knew she should probably be the one to break the news to her parents, but a mean part of her wanted to see how Chrom would handle this. When it became clear Maribelle wasn’t going to say anything, Chrom coughed.

“I called you here today to, um, Maribelle and I would like to ask you for a blessing on our marriage.” He grabbed her hand when he said that last part, perhaps as some symbol of unity. His hand was surprisingly clammy. Eyes wide, the Duke looked between the two youngsters. The Duchess said nothing, just continued petting her cat with that closed-off look Maribelle knew so well.

“We know it’s quite sudden, but we hope to iron out any of the details as soon as possible,” Maribelle said finally. Chrom smiled at her gratefully. “We will need to make the invitation list first, of course, so if you would be so kind to provide us with the addresses of-”

“Are you pregnant?”

The question came from her mother. Both Chrom and Maribelle turned red, pulling their hands apart quickly.

“Why, Mother I- what in the world would give you such an idea!” she asked, pointedly avoiding Chrom’s gaze. Maribelle’s mother put down her teacup as calmly as if they were discussing the weather.

“An out-of-wedlock pregnancy seems like the only reason why you two of all people would plan something like this without following the proper engagement protocol.” Her mother leaned forward.

“I agree protocol is important, Mother, but sometimes there are extenuating circumstances at hand.”

“‘Extenuating circumstances’? Please enlighten me on what extenuating circumstances there are in this situation.”

“Haha, okay, dear, Belle, I think it would be best to get back to the topic at hand,” said the Duke with a nervous laugh.

“Perhaps it would be best for our daughter to remember her place.”

Maribelle recoiled as if someone had struck her. Her mother’s gray eyes bore into her like two swords. She looked down at her hands, knowing her face was going to get blotchy, as it always did when she got this upset.

“Lady Themis, if I may interrupt.” Maribelle looked up to see Chrom leaning forward, a determined look on his face.

“I’m sure Maribelle, I mean we- I apologize for any inconvenience this must be causing you. I understand how important tradition is in matters such as these, and I assure you that I meant no disrespect in keeping it from you for so long.”

Maribelle stared. For someone who hated courtly matters, Chrom was surprisingly coherent. He stared dead on, head held high at her mother. The Duchess stared back, one hand stroking the cat’s back lazily. Then she shifted, looking away from the lord.

“When do you plan on making the official announcement?” she finally asked.

“Lissa’s birthday is quickly approaching, and most of the court will be in attendance for the celebration. I’ve been thinking that would be the best moment to get the word out to as many people as possible,” replied Maribelle. Truthfully she’d come up with the idea right there on the spot, but as soon as she said it she knew that was the best option.

The rest of the conversation flowed without incident, if not a little awkwardly. Neither of Maribelle’s parents inquired further into the origins of their courtship, which relieved Maribelle greatly. It wasn’t all that unusual to have a noble marriage born out of obligation rather than love, but she still didn’t like admitting that out loud.

As it turned out, the Duchess of Themis had many opinions on how the engagement announcement should go, and it was several hours before the two finally excused themselves to return to their rented home in Ylisstol, the Duke hugging his daughter tightly crying about how nice it was to see her while the Duchess stood coolly in the corner. Chrom played the gracious host the entire time, even down to the moment when he waved the off from the banister outside the study.

It was only when the two bobbed out of view that Chrom let his hand and smile drop.

“All things considered, that could have gone a lot worse,” he sighed.

“Seeing as no one ended up with a fractured limb, it already went better than my last family reunion. But Chrom, one question: when did you call for my parents and how did you manage to get them here without me knowing?”

Maribelle gave Chrom a glare that made his blood run cold. He might have not noticed the family resemblance between Maribelle and her mother before, but he certainly noticed it then.

“I sent word for them as soon as I heard your decision,” he confessed. “They arrived late last night, and the only reason I didn’t tell you they were in the city is because I thought they would have told you that themselves.”

Maribelle eyed Chrom warily. She could tell he wasn’t lying- Maribelle had a talent for sniffing out lies, and Lissa’s brother was so notoriously bad at them that she would have found him out in a heartbeat. No, he was telling the truth.

Brushing away the sting from knowing that her parents had not even bothered to contact her upon their arrival in Ylisstol, she said, “You had no right to dig into my personal affairs like that.”

“I hardly see how inviting your parents in for tea counts as ‘digging into your personal affairs,’ Maribelle.”

“You did it without alerting me. Being royalty doesn’t give you the right to do whatever you’d like behind other people’s backs.”

The words were out of her mouth before she could reclaim them. Chrom’s expression shifted from one of apology to one of annoyance.

“Then what about the time you sacrificed yourself to King Gangrel without telling anyone? Was it okay for you to do something so foolish behind all of our backs?”

“You are well aware that those were different circumstances. Besides, I considered the feelings of all parties involved before acting whereas you never even bothered to consider mine!”

“Don’t lie to yourself, Maribelle. We both know the only ‘feelings’ you considered are the same ones for my sister that you usually let cloud your judgement!”

The sound of flesh hitting flesh resounded through the Great Hall as Maribelle smacked the Exalt of the Halidom clear across the face. She felt a sudden rush of satisfaction from the deed, but that was quickly replaced by pure shock as the realization of what she’d done hit her. Maribelle recoiled from the royal, placing a hand on the banister to steady herself.

“I’m so-...I don’t...”

Chrom looked at her, the blue hair of his bangs partly obscuring his face. The part of his cheek she’d slapped was quickly swelling an ugly red. He didn’t say anything to her, but there was an anger in his eyes that made the girl’s blood run cold.

“Maribelle! Chrom! What’s going on!”

The look vanished from Chrom’s eyes just as quickly as it had come. They both turned to see Lissa at running frantically up the stairs, her flute still clenched in her hands.

“What happened here? I thought I heard someone get hit!” exclaimed Lissa. Her eyes went wide at the bruise purpling Chrom’s face. “Mar, did you do that?”

“It’s nothing to worry about Lissa,” said Chrom coolly.

“Lissa, I won’t be at dinner tonight. My sincerest apologies. Please give my excuses to the court.”

Lissa opened her mouth as if to protest, but Maribelle was gone before any words could come out. She kept herself at a steady pace, head held high all the way. It wasn’t until she’d reached the safety of her bedroom and the door was firmly locked behind her that she let her tears fall.

*~*~*

“Can you rewind back to the part where you hit Chrom upside the head and expound on that in excruciating detail?”

Maribelle groaned. “I didn’t hit him. It was more of a...slap.”

“Hit, slap, punch- it’s hilarious, that's what it is.”

Maribelle groaned again. Across from her Gaius grinned, slipping back into a defensive stance. Of all the people to run into in the barracks, he’d been the last one she’d expect (Unlike their on the road barracks, Gaius tended to avoid  the Ylisstol one due to it’s uncomfortable closeness to the barracks of the city guards). But on the other hand, maybe she should be glad she had run into him and not someone like Sumia, or gods forbid, Frederick!

“Life in the castle sounds like it sucks, it honestly does, but it almost seems worth it if there’s shit like this going down,” remarked Gaius.

“I can assure you that this is not a normal occurrence for me or anyone else who lives there.”

“You know, for someone who claims to love peace and order, you attract conflict like a beehive of attracts bears. Speaking of beehives, I could really go for some honey cake today. How’s about after this you and me head down to a cafe and you throw some of that rich girl money my way?”

“If you don’t mind, I think we should focus on the match at hand?”

Gaius shrugged.

“Personally, I find sugar to be more helpful that hand-to-hand combat after a fight, but, hey, what do I know?”

Maribelle slipped into a stance that mirrored Gaius's. The two circled each other slowly, neither ready to make the first move. Finally Maribelle’s patience won out and Gaius lunged towards her first. She dodged the tip of his practice blade daintily.

Swinging her body in a half arc, she jabbed her elbow in his back and a knee into his chest. Gaius grunted, the air gone from his lungs, and Maribelle followed up by a quick jab to the chin.

The thief fell back, a cloud of dust puffing up when his back hit the ground. Several moments passed before Maribelle straightened up and asked, “Had enough already?”

Sitting up halfway, Gaius grinned.

“Not bad, Twinkles. Not bad at all. You’ve improved a lot.”

Maribelle bent down, her  hand extended towards Gaius to help him up.

“A lady must stay in top form, war or no-OH!”

Maribelle was cut off as Gaius used her extended hand to pull her down, hooking his own foot behind hers. In one swift movement he had Maribelle on the ground and the tip of his sword pressed against the soft flesh of her neck.

“You’ve gotten better, Twinkles,” he said, coking an eyebrow. “But you’re not the best.”

Maribelle groaned.

There was a time when Maribelle had found hand-to-hand combat to be a fighting form only suited for the baseborn classes, but that had been before she’d been attacked by literal armies of the undead. Since there was a lull in fighting with peacetime happening around them, now seemed a good a time as any to learn to defend herself better.

Though maybe picking Gaius to be her sparring partner hadn’t been her best idea.

Gaius backed up and gave Maribelle room to pull herself up from the ground.

“I think that makes nine for me and three for you?” he teased. Checking to make sure no dirt had gotten inside of her sparring boots, Maribelle rolled her eyes.

“You’ve only beaten me so many times because you always cheat.”

“You know as well as I do that the world is full of cheaters. The only difference between them and the losers is who gets caught.”

Maribelle narrowed her eyes but said nothing. Shifting back into her stance, she said with a grin, “We’ll see about that.”

The sun had nearly set behind the horizon by the time they finished sparring for the day. After one last decisive blow, the two of them fell to the ground too tired to continue. Panting heavily, Maribelle wiped the sweat from her forehead.

“So that makes the final count five you and fourteen me,” said Gaius.

“Don’t remind me.”

“Hey, sparring was your idea, not mine. Were it not for you, I would be halfway through the Royal Reserve right now.”

Maribelle cringed at the mention of Gaius’s more unscrupulous endeavors. It was an odd friendship they had, the noblewoman and the thief. Even some within the Shepherds didn’t understand why someone like Maribelle would willingly spend so much time with a man that seemed to embody everything she detested in society. But at this moment with everything seemingly falling down around her ears, she was glad there was at least one more person by her side.

“My apologies for turning you towards a life of righteousness and good will.”

Maribelle rolled to her side to stare at her right hand. Her hand still tingled from where it had made contact with Chrom, though she was pretty sure that that was her own guilt she was feeling rather than any lasting damage.

“Anyway, let’s take a break for now and try out some of those tasty- Twinkles? Are you alright?”

“She hates me.” Maribelle closed her hand and drew it close to her chest. “She’s never going to want to see me again.”

"Great gods, are you talking about Lissa? I don’t think that girl knows how to hate anyone.”

“I harmed the only family she has left! How could she possibly want to be near me after that? I’m the worst.”

A part of Maribelle knew this was completely irrational thinking and even if it wasn’t, she should at least get off the ground. But that part of her wasn’t in control at the moment, and it was all she could do to not break into tears right there.

Something hit the top of her head. Peaking up between her bangs, Maribelle spotted a tightly wrapped piece of candy lying in the grass near her. Gaius shifted awkwardly and looked away.

“You’re too hard on yourself, Maribelle,” he said. “But it’s alright. If anyone deserves a chance to just cut loose and be miserable for a little while, it’s you.”

Maribelle sniffed once. Then, rubbing  at her eyes, she pulled herself up, the candy grasped firmly in one hand.

“Well I never thought I’d see the day,” said Maribelle. Gaius gave her a curious look and she waved the sweet in response. “Legendary Thief Gaius the Great sharing a piece of his famous loot? Now that is something even I can’t believe.”

Gaius grinned.

“Don’t let this whole ‘sharing thing’ get out. I have a reputation to protect you know.”  

Maribelle did something then she couldn’t have imagined herself doing mere minutes ago: she laughed. Gaius grinned at her.

“You want to know my opinion on the whole Chromgate scandal?”

“Why do I feel like no matter what answer I give, you are going to tell me anyway?”

“The way I see it, you noble types like to make a pound cake out of a sugarcube.” At the confused look on Maribelle’s face, Gaius rolled his eyes and reiterated, “You like to make a big stink out of nothing for no reason other than because you can.”

“What do you-”

“Lissa is your best friend right?” interrupted Gaius.

“...Yes.”

“And you and Chrom have known each other since the two of you were shitting in silver diapers, haven’t you?”

“That is quite the uncouth way of putting it but yes, we have.”

“The point I’m trying to make is, you love those royal knuckleheads. I’m not saying in what way, but you can’t deny that you do. A bond like that doesn’t die over something stupid like this.”

Maribelle rolled the candy between her palm in silence, letting the redhead’s words sink in.

“You have a revoltingly charming way with words, do you know that?” she said, though the harshness of her words were diluted by the small smile on her face. It was the first genuine smile she had given all afternoon and the sight of it was enough to bring a smile to Gaius’s face as well.

“That’s me- giving and giving with no heed for my own well being. They should make me a priest.” Gaius ginned. “So are we gonna get that cake or what?”

*~*~*

Maribelle returned from the afternoon with Gaius feeling cautiously optimistic. She greeted those who passed her in the castle with more warmth than usual, which gave a few serving girls the chills. Perhaps they could sense that he good mood was slightly forced, but it was preferable to the misery she’d felt earlier. With determination in her step, Maribelle headed to the cleric’s ward.

She found Lissa pretending to clean out some tonic bottles in the corner of the room. Even the medic staff had more downtime than they were used to after the war. Lissa had her back turned to the door, so she didn’t notice Maribelle’s presence until the other girl gave a dainty cough.

“Mar!” said Lissa,

“Ah yes, just the princess I was hoping to see,” said Maribelle nonchalantly as if she hadn’t run over this conversation fifty different times in her head. “I’m terribly sorry for disappearing this afternoon and I do apologize for any inconvenience it may have caused you...”

Maribelle stumbled backwards, the force of Lissa suddenly tackling her nearly enough to send her toppling over. Completely bewildered, Maribelle looked down to see her best friend with tears brimming in her eyes and snot running down her nose.

“I thought you were mad at me!” hiccuped Lissa. “Both you and Chrom disappeared all day and nobody would tell me what you were fighting over! I thought...I thought...”

“Oh Lissa, my dear...”

Pulling a handkerchief out of her pocket, Maribelle wiped at her friend’s eyes. Lissa sniffed once, then broke out into a weak grin.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “for getting all worked up over nothing. Here I am blubbering like a baby when I’m sure everything is already hunky-dory between you and Chrom.”

“Actually,” confessed Maribelle, taking a moment to readjust one of Lissa’s pigtails, “I haven’t spoken to Chrom yet. You’re the first person I’ve seen since returning to the castle.” Satisfied with Lissa's hair, Maribelle pulled back.

“How is...Chrom doing, though?”

Lissa pouted at her brother’s name.

“Chrom’s being a big old sourpuss, as usual. He’s locked himself up in Emm’s old study and didn’t even come out for dinner!”

Unlike everybody else, Lissa said Emmeryn’s name so easily it was as if she’d never even died. In some ways, mused Maribelle, Lissa was truly the strongest of them all.

“Well Ylisse can’t have her Exalt brooding in solitude while there are parties to be planned and borders to be maintained, can she?” Maribelle argued. “I suppose it is our duty to go pay him a visit.”

Lissa nodded excitedly, and the two headed off arm in arm in the direction of the castle’s private quarters.Though she didn’t dare let it show on her face, Maribelle’s heart practically exploded with ecstasy. Lissa was by her side and most importantly of all, she hadn’t heard what Chrom had said.

The door was less intimidating than it had been that morning. Maribelle raised a hand to knock, pulled it back, then turned to Lissa with an apologetic smile.

“Actually, I think it would be best if you waited somewhere else while Chrom and I...discuss things. I promise I will catch up with you as soon as we have this little mess all sorted out.”

Lissa’s face fell for only half a moment, but then her usual sunny grin returned.

“Of course! I wouldn’t want to get in the way of a lover’s make-up after all!”

“Lissa, please, that was hardly a lover’s quarrel!”

But Lissa was off and running before Maribelle could finish.

Sighing, Maribelle knocked twice on the study door. There came no reply.

“Milord? It’s Maribelle. I’d like to come in please.”

No response.

She pressed a hand against the door, noticing for the first time the intricate carvings embossed in the warm wood. It made sense it would be a floral pattern; this study had belonged to Emmeryn after all. She wondered which flowers these were. Storksbill, perhaps?

Maribelle quickly cut off that train of thought, shaking her head to come back to the present. No use avoiding the inevitable.

She tried the door handle and found it unlocked. Taking a deep breath, Maribell entered the room.

The study was exactly as she had left it that afternoon. The tea cups her parents had drank from sat untouched.. Maribelle took one look at the half-finished tea and grimaced.

In the back of the room, working by flickering candlelight, sat Chrom. He was wearing his night glasses, a recent accessory forced upon him by the medic staff and Fredrick after they’d noticed how farsighted the royal had become after his tour of war. In his hands he held a letter with a long list that Maribelle couldn’t quite make out.

“If I may have a moment of your time, milord?” asked Maribelle.

“I’m very busy right now, Maribelle,” said Chrom, his back still turned to her. “We can discuss more in the morning.”

“It’s rude to not look people in the eye when you’re speaking to them,” she snapped.

At this Chrom turned to face her, the sole candle in the room casting long shadows on his face. Even in the dim light, she could still make out the bruise she had given him earlier and she winced at the sight of it.

“Why, so you have a better angle to hit me again?”

Oh, okay, so maybe that one stung a little.

“No I...milo- Chrom,” said Maribelle. She moved forward till she was standing right by his chair, arms clasped in front of her right where he could see them. The suspicion in his eyes pained her, but gods be damned if she hadn’t come all this way to say her part. “What I did earlier, there are no words to explain how sorry I am. No matter how angry I was, it was completely reprehensible or me to strike you like that. It’s not...I’m sorry.”

Maribelle looked up to see Chrom still frowning. Shifting from foot to foot, she added, “Please feel free to punish me in any way you see fit.

Chrom sighed.

“I’m not going to punish you, Maribelle. What kind of tyrant would I be if I locked up every person in Ylisse who made a poor decision? We’d have no free citizens left.”

Neither of them said anything for several long minutes. Then Chrom sighed and turned so he was fully facing Maribelle and for the first time since she’d entered the room, his face shifting from the cold mask he’d been wearing.

“It’s not fair to you to act like this whole situation was solely your fault,” he admitted. “You only did what you did because of what I said. I was out of line and you were completely justified for acting as you did. I’m sorry and I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

Maribelle blinked. Of all the ways she’d expected it to go, this was not a path she’d expected. Was it possible that Chrom had been stressing over his apology as much as she had been over hers?

“I forgive you. Holding grudges is so uncivilized anyway,” she replied and that was enough to get a smile out of Chrom. Though his smile wasn’t as bright as Lissa’s, Maribelle noted how much younger it made the man.

“Why Maribelle, I believe we just had our first real quarrel,” said Chrom. “And we’re not even married yet.”

“Well you know me- always ahead of the curve.”

They both laughed at this, not hearty booming laughs but something softer, much more fragile. Then Maribelle asked Chrom what he was working on and Chrom showed Maribelle the plan for the new road that would connect Ylisstol directly to the outer lands. Maribelle made several suggestions for the plan that would overhaul the entire project for half the cost and Chrom thanked her sincerely. In this quiet, awkward manner they worked through the night, until the candle had burned itself down into a nub, at which point they said goodbye with tired smiles on their faces.