Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Please may I go, Uncle?"

Dimitri knew it was a futile plea as his uncle had been shaking his head the entire conversation.

"Absolutely not. It's not safe," Rufus said, his blond hair moving from side to side as he continued to shake his head no. Dimitri let out a small, undignified huff.

"Dedue will accompany me! And any other knights you deem necessary, I just want to see the celebrations!"

"I said no, Dimitri. Besides, there will be celebrations tomorrow, hosted here in the castle where I can vet everyone who comes in."

It was the week of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus Founding Day and the capital's streets were filled with stalls, stages, performers, and festivities. However, Dimitri was not allowed outside the castle walls. He had not been allowed outside without supervision in over four years, and he was not allowed outside at all when there was anything happening in town. Rufus claimed it was too dangerous, they didn't know who could be walking around the streets of Fhiardiad. He wasn't wrong, necessarily, but Dimitri was nearing his breaking point. Especially when the buzz from town could be heard from his bedroom window this morning.

"Now, run along. Speaking of vetting, I must ensure that I have double checked all the guests' and performers' papers before the end of the day." Rufus stood up from his comfy armchair in front of the fireplace in his office, and made his way over to his desk and to the mountain of papers stacked on it that Dimitri knew he had already double, triple, quadruple checked. He clenched his fists together, gave a curt bow, and did his best to storm out of the office in a way that didn't seem like he was storming out. In the hallway, Dedue, his retainer, stood against the wall. He looked up at the prince with a knowing look.

"He will not let me go," Dimitri said with a sigh.

Dedue nodded as if he had expected this outcome. Dimitri supposed he had as well, but a foolish, childish part of him had hoped his uncle would let him go, seeing as his eighteenth birthday was the following month.

"Does he intend to keep me locked away like some sort of damsel in a tower all my life?" he spat, glaring at the floor as they walked down the spiral staircase.

"Perhaps only until you are crowned as king, Your Highness?" Dedue offered.

Dimitri sighed. "That does not fill me with the hope you think it will." They continued walking in silence until they reached Dimitri's room. The window was still thrown open from this morning when the prince had leaned out the window, trying to hear as much as he could from the town below. He frowned looking at the window now, the sounds still clear as a bell.

He didn't pretend not to understand his uncle's concern. On a royal campaign across the kingdom, his father and stepmother had been murdered by some kind of insurrectionists. Dimitri had been staying with his family friends, the Fraldariuses, when it had happened. Their eldest son, Glenn, had been murdered while protecting the king it was said. Rufus had come to a logical conclusion that whoever was responsible wanted the entire royal family dead and had promptly increased the security at the castle and ordered Dimitri to stay inside unless explicitly given permission otherwise. However, it had been nigh on four years since that awful incident and no attempts on the prince's or king regent's life had been made.

Dimitri flopped dramatically onto the bed as Dedue closed the door and stood by it, looking at him with pity. The young Duscur man had been Dimitri's retainer now for three and half years. After the assassination of the king and queen, the people of Duscur, the country that they had been visiting, had been blamed. The north western nobles had taken it upon themselves to deal out punishment as they saw fit, in the form of a massacre. Dedue's family had been murdered but he managed to escape, until he was captured by some of Viscount Kleiman's men. He had been transferred to the capital in the hopes that he would be publicly executed to make a statement to the kingdom.

Dimitri, who had been been devastated at the sudden loss of his family and furious at his uncle for not doing more to stop the genocide, had pleaded with Rufus and the royal court not to execute Dedue, crying that enough blood had been spilt, he was an innocent, and demanding he be put under Dimitri's care. Dedue had not left the prince's side since.

Dimitri turned his head to face his friend now. Since Dedue only went where Dimitri did, he also hadn't been outside in awhile. "Do you miss having a freer life, friend?" he asked. Dedue seemed to consider his question for a moment.

"My life now and my life before are separate worlds. I miss small things but it is impossible to compare. Your safety is now what is most important to me, Your Highness," he responded diplomatically.

"I suppose you agree with Uncle's rules to keep me confined then?" Dimitri retorted.

Dedue shook his head. "I understand His Majesty's concern but I do think he can be a bit… harsh."

Dimitri sat up straight and looked at his retainer, a plan forming in his head. He knew there was a small passage from the kitchen to the front of the castle where they delivered food. He couldn't just waltz on into the kitchen though, the staff would have a heart attack if they saw the prince loitering where he shouldn't. They'd know something was up immediately. However, Dedue often helped in the kitchens. It wouldn't be suspicious for him to go through there. Dimitri's eyes moved left and right as he considered this idea. Dedue was looking at him with apprehension, clearly seeing the cogs turning in his head.

"Would you like to see the fair, Dedue?" Dimitri finally spoke, a small, cunning smile appearing across his face. Dedue already knew where this was going.

"I would, Your Highness," he replied honestly. He would like to see what was happening. The city of Fhiardiad had these large fairs every year and he had never been able to go to one. He wondered what type of food they served at the stalls, what acts performed that had the crowds cheering so loudly. Trying to get glimpses out of the castle's windows had never satiated his curiosity.

"Let us make haste then." Dimitri's eyes were twinkling mischievously now. He opened his bedroom door and beckoned for Dedue to follow him. They walked through the winding hallways of the castle, making a quick stop into a large storage room where Dimitri fished out two large, grey, fur lined cloaks with hoods. He gave the bigger of the two to Dedue and told him to keep it concealed. They continued through the castle, down spiral staircases until they were in front of the kitchen.

Dedue tucked his cloak under his arm, as hidden as he could and opened the kitchen door. There were only two chefs in at the moment. No scullery maids or butlers. It was mid-afternoon. Lunch had been served and dinner would not be prepared till later in the evening. The chefs didn't acknowledge him, too busy wiping down and cleaning the counters.

He moved slowly through the door and walked towards the stone passage that led outside. Just in front of the passage, he began to fiddle around with the rack of seasoning and spices, pretending he was looking for something. One of the chefs shot him a look over his shoulder and rolled his eyes, moving further into the kitchen. The other followed him shortly. Once they were both far enough, Dedue softly cleared his throat.

Dimitri heard the signal from behind the kitchen door and slipped silently through, moving quickly until he was in the passage. Dedue followed shortly and they began walking briskly through the stone hallway, quickly throwing their cloaks over their shoulders and pulling the hoods up. Dedue knew there wouldn't be anyone in the passage as deliveries were only made in the early hours of the morning. He just hoped there were no knights standing guard at the exit.

When the bright exit of the tunnel was visible, Dimitri held back as Dedue moved forward slowly, keeping an eye out for any knights. He reached the exit and looked around. It was all clear. If a knight was supposed to have been stationed here, they had taken off to have a look around the city. Dedue gestured for Dimitri to come forward and he did. Once outside, they quickly sprinted from the castle wall into the city, taking a few lefts and rights until they were a suitable distance away from the castle.

Dimitri stared up at the sky, panting with adrenaline. It shouldn't have been that easy for him to break out of the castle, yet here he was. The day was bright, the sun shone and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. The air was cold but refreshing and he could already feel his cheeks and nose reddening. He grinned at Dedue. They had succeeded.

Now in the centre of Fhiardiad, the large crowds milling around the streets were visible. There were lots of little stands, the owners shouting what they were selling and for what price. Delicious smells filled the air and music could be heard from everywhere as musicians played on street corners. Cheers sounded from one of the city's large town squares, where presumably some kind of sporting event was being held.

Dimitri couldn't wipe the huge smile off his face. The hustle and bustle of the city was such a welcome change to the silent, stifling hallways of the castle. He turned to face Dedue, who was gazing around the city's streets with awe.

"Shall we go explore, my friend?" Dimitri asked. Dedue only nodded and they began walking along one of the laneways lined with stalls. They stopped occasionally to look at a stall's wares. There was one that sold handcrafted brooches, another that sold leather satchels and notebooks. One was dedicated entirely to different types of quills. At the end of the street was a carnival game where you threw marbles to knock over five coconuts, imported from the Alliance.

Dimitri and Dedue had a go each. Dedue only missed one, his last shot, and everyone around let out a sound of disappointment for him, applauding his effort. Dimitri had thrown his first marble with too much gusto, and the coconut flew off of the stand, whacking into another. The second marble missed, hitting the stand the coconut sat on and flying back to hit him in the arm. His face had begun burning up but the sound of Dedue's gentle chuckle calmed it down again. It had been too long since he heard the man laugh. He threw his last three marbles carefully and lightly and missed them all.

They moved on to the main town square. There was a large stage set up and a crowd was beginning to gather around. From what Dimitri could see, there was nothing happening on it at present. To the stage's left was a brightly coloured caravan. Performers of some description must be putting on a show a bit later, he figured.

They moved past the plaza, along down another winding street. The smells of all kinds of delicious foods wafted in the air. He could see a stand selling meat, another stand selling sweet buns. His mouth watered at the thought of a sweet bun and he made a mental note to return to that stall shortly. This street ended at the city's canal and, in the field beside the water, there was a competition of poc fada, or long puck. The goal was to use a stick with a flattened head to hit a ball made of pig's skin as far as possible. Motivated by his loss at the coconut game, Dimitri brought Dedue over to enter the competition.

Dimitri walked across the field and picked up the stick and a ball. Holding the ball in his left hand and the end of the stick in his right, he stood in the middle of the starting line. He took a deep breath and threw the ball into the air. He quickly moved his left hand above his right and hit the ball as hard as he could. The ball flew at an extremely high speed down to the other end of the field, far ahead of any of the other markers that showed how far other competitors had hit theirs. He grinned and thrust the stick into the air, turning around to see Dedue smiling and clapping for him. The competition's adjudicator ran down to place a marker and collect the ball.

"I don't think I've ever seen someone hit the ball that far!" he called out as he approached them. Dimitri began to unconsciously tug at his hood, suddenly aware of the attention on him. Luckily, the adjudicator simply told him to return after the fifth bell this evening to see if he had won and collect his prize. Dimitri nodded and he and Dedue quickly moved on.

Once they had walked away slightly, Dimitri remembered the sweet buns. He turned to Dedue, smiling.

"I believe I am going to go and buy some sweet buns and wait for whatever production is going to be performed at that stage we passed by earlier. What will you do?"

Dedue frowned, a small line drawn between his eyebrows. "I believe I should stay with you, Your Highness."

"Not Your Highness, Dedue. Not here," Dimitri hissed, looking around worriedly. There was no one around to hear them it seemed. "And wouldn't you like to see more of the fair?"

Dedue's frown faltered and he looked down at his shoes. "I… I did see a display of different flowers from around Fódlan that I would like to view…"

"Then go! I shall be fine." Dimitri gave a reassuring smile. His heart and mind felt light as they had wandered around town. Dedue should enjoy this time they had stolen, unburdened of any responsibilities he was typically weighed down by. They both should.

"Let us enjoy our day and we can meet up near the front of the castle at the fifth bell. We shall keep our hoods up and talk to no one. No one will care about two more tourists enjoying the festivities."

Dedue considered his suggestion, resting his chin on his thumb and index finger. Finally, he said, "Okay. But please come find me if anything seems out of place."

Dimitri nodded. "Of course. Enjoy the floral display."

Pulling his hood higher over his head, Dimitri then started towards the stall with the sweet buns. He bought the largest one he could find, feeling giddy inside when the vendor handed it to him wrapped in paper. He strolled back towards the plaza, unwrapping his sweet bun. He bit into it, savouring the sweet jam filling and soft dough. He could see the town square from here and a larger crowd had begun to form around the stage. Something must surely be happening soon.

He made his way into the middle of the crowd, doing his best to avoid bumping into anyone. Musicians were now sitting in the corner of the stage with a variety of instruments, tuning them and getting them ready to play. He took another large bite out of his sweet bun, making sure his hood stayed up, when five dancers came out onto the stage. They all wore white, off the shoulder blouses and deep blue skirts with gold scarves wrapped around their waists. Their wrists were adorned with golden bangles and on their ears hung large golden hoop earrings. The crows began to applaud as they got into formation, forming a straight line behind one another and bowing their heads. The band began to play a foreign sounding piece of music, strumming on a stringed instrument that made a twangy sound.

The dancers began to part to the left and right until the one in the middle walked to the front, holding a tambourine. Dimitri felt his heart stop in his chest and he held his sweet bun in front of his open mouth as he stared up at the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

The dancer had deep blue hair, and even deeper blue eyes. Her skin was pale and seemed to glisten in the winter sun. She flicked her wrist with the tambourine, slowly at first and then, steadily, faster and faster. She kicked her legs, brought her hands above her head, and bent her back forwards and backwards to the music, making grand sweeping motions to the floor. Her face was less expressive, more controlled than the dancers around her. They grinned large, cartoonish grins and gave over the top cheeky winks to the crowd. In contrast, this dancer only raised an eyebrow, softened her eyes, gave a smirk. Dimitri thought she commanded the stage all the more by doing just that.

The dancer had noticed him staring. Oh goddess, she was staring back at him. She held his gaze, the corner of her pink mouth raised in a seductive smirk as she moved her arms back and forth and twirled her hips. Dimitri could feel his face turning red but was transfixed and couldn't look away. The music began to slow down and the dancer brought her hands and the tambourine from over her head, down across her face and stopped when only her hooded eyes were visible. The music stopped and the crowd began applauding and cheering loudly. The dancer still hadn't broken eye contact with him and then, with her chest heaving up and down from breathing heavily, she winked at him.

Dimitri crushed the sweet bun he was holding in his hands.

Chapter Text

The sweet bun fell to the ground as the dancers bowed and began making their way off the stage, down the stairs and into the caravan beside it. The crowd began to disperse, leaving only Dimitri, muttering curses Sir Gustave would have scolded him for as he shook his hands out, flinging pieces of jam everywhere. His hands were sticky with jam and icing and sugar.

"Hey."

A low, feminine voice called out from behind Dimitri. He began panicking, trying to lick the filling from the squashed sweet bun off his hands while simultaneously trying to ensure his hood stayed up over his head. He gave what he intended to be a quick glance over his shoulder but froze when he made eye contact with the owner of the voice.

It was the beautiful dancer. She had put on a large cloak over her costume and her cheeks were flushed from her routine. Her dainty, pink lips were pulled into a small smile as she approached Dimitri.

"Did you enjoy the show?" she asked, pulling the collar of her cloak as close to her as she could. She mustn't be from Fhiardiad, he noted. Today was quite a warm day for winter.

Dimitri stood blinking at her for a few seconds. Saint Seiros, she was beautiful. Now that he was standing closer to her, he was able to see all the small details of her face. She had big eyes, farmed by long, curled eyelashes, and they were such a wonderful shade of blue. He decided it may be his new favourite colour. Her nose was small and came to a sharp point in a very cute way. Paired with her thin, but plump, pink lips, she seemed to walk the line between adorable and sensual. Her eyebrows looked as if they had been painted on hair by hair. One of those eyebrows began to raise a fraction and Dimitri remembered she had asked him a question. He turned red, scolding himself for blatantly staring.

"Y-Yes! I did. You… y-you were wonderful." Dear goddess, why was he stuttering now of all times? What was the point of all of those elocution lessons he had suffered through if he couldn't talk straight now?

The dancer didn't seem to mind and let out a soft giggle. It sounded like wind chimes. The air was knocked out of his lungs.

"Thank you." Her smile grew slightly and his face started burning up. Her eyes sparkled, she had eyes that were made for smiling. Dimitri couldn't help but think that if she smiled any bigger, his mind would stop working. Though, it was hardly working as it is.

"My name is Byleth. What is your's?"

Byleth… He tested it out in his head. It suited her, he decided. The strong first syllable, followed by the softer second one was much like her powerful energy paired with her softer facial features.

"My name is… Dima," he said slowly, a very noticeable pause in his sentence. He couldn't give her his first name, he realised, as she may figure out that she was talking to the prince. Rufus would certainly have his head if he found out that, not only had he snuck out, he had talked to a beautiful woman as well.

"Dima. That's an unusual name." On second thought, he shouldn't have given her the pet name his close friends and family called him. Hearing it roll off her tongue, on her lips…He felt like steam was coming out of his ears.

"Are you from Fhiardiad, Dima?"

"I-I am." Sweet goddess, could he please stop stammering?

"Would you like to walk around the fair with me? I am not very familiar with the traditions of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus Founding Day." She was inviting him? To walk around? With her?

"Yes, of course." His mouth had spoken before his head had a chance to think whether this was a good idea or not. She wasn't from Faerghus, if she didn't know the traditions of the day. That also presumably meant she didn't know what the prince looked like. That must mean it was okay for him to show her around. Just a little, he reasoned. It would be rude not to.

While he was trying to tell himself that this was a good idea actually, the dancer - Byleth - slipped her arm through his and placed both hands on his arm, one on his forearm and one higher on his bicep.

"Shall we go?" she said, looking up at him with lidded eyes. Dimitri had to look away, staring off someplace far away as his face turned the colour of a ripe tomato, his heart pounded loudly, and he bit his lip. This was fine, this would be fine.

They started walking away from the main square, down one of the main roads that had lots of stalls on either side of the street. Merchants were selling food, drinks, jewellery, and other small knick knacks. Was she hungry after her routine, Dimitri wondered. Perhaps he should show her some traditional Faerghus cuisine?

"So, what do you work as?" Byleth asked. Dimitri felt his face had calmed down enough that he could look at her again. Standing beside him, the top of her head reached just above his shoulder.

"I'm, uh…" What did he work as? What could he pass for? Hardly a labour job, he was dressed too well, even if he had the grey cloak thrown over his clothes. An academic occupation would lead to too many follow up questions. He should try and stick as closely to the truth as possible. "I'm a knight for the royal family."

Byleth raised an eyebrow suggestively, a playful smirk appearing on her face. "Ooo, a knight? Should I address you as Sir Dima then?"

"No thank you, just Dima is fine!" he said loudly and quickly, his face returning to the bright red colour it had just calmed down from. He heard her let out a small giggle and did his best to ignore the growing tightness in his pants. He stared down at the ground, cursing his body for betraying him so.

"May I ask why you have your hood up?" Byleth's voice brought him back from the shame spiral he had thrown himself into.

"O-Oh, I'm not supposed to be out today. I don't want to get caught." Should he have told her that? What if she ratted him out to the next knight they saw?

She smiled and raised one finger to her lips. "It'll be our little secret so," she said before lowering her finger again. Dimitri's gaze lingered longer than he'd like to admit on her lips. It didn't look like she had any makeup on. They were just naturally that pink. They looked like they would be soft.

He pulled himself together before letting his mind travel too far down that road. "Are you hungry?" he asked her. "There's a food stall nearby that serves meat skewers."

Byleth's eyes lit up and she tightened her grip on Dimitri's arm. "That sounds amazing, lead the way."

Dimitri smiled at her and brought her back the way he had come before he watched the dancers' performance. The food stall didn't have that much of a queue so they stood in line and waited. When they got to the top, Dimitri ordered two sticks of boar and paid the stall owner. He handed them their food, boar on a skewer and threw in a cup of warm cider for free 'for the beautiful lady'. Byleth had taken it off of him with a smile and they moved somewhere where they could find a place to sit. That place ended up being near the city canal, just outside of the town centre. They leaned against a wall and began eating their food.

The boar tasted amazing, it was chewy and roasted to perfection. After each bite she took, Byleth would let out a moan of appreciation before taking another bite. Dimitri concentrated very hard on the food, not letting his mind wander down the lanes it wanted to go after hearing her moan beside him. She sipped at the warm cider and handed it to him, letting him taste it too. It was delicious, bubbly and warm. The warmth made its way down to his stomach and, after a few sips, Dimitri felt confident he could hold a conversation with her.

"So where are you from?" he asked. Byleth had finished her skewer and was running it back and forth across her mouth, trying to get any bit of meat she had missed.

"I was born in a small village in the Adrestian Empire, but I've always travelled around," she replied. Once she was sure she wasn't going to get anymore meat off of the stick, she turned to look up at him, giving him her full attention.

"Have you always been a dancer?"

"No, that's a more recent development," she smirked, her voice a touch darker than it had been before. "I used to travel with my father. We were mercenaries."

Now that, Dimitri hadn't expected. His surprise must have been visible on his face because she let out one of her delightful small giggles.

"It feels like such a long time ago now. We used to help out small villages with bandit problems. Nothing too lavish, but I enjoyed it."

"Why did you stop?" He wasn't sure if he was being too nosy but he was genuinely curious. He wanted to know all he could about her. He wished to dedicate a small section of his brain to Byleth, memorising her face, life, smile, wants, and more.

"My father passed away. A job went bad. He got hurt and then he never got better. I tried being a mercenary for a time after but it no longer felt like it used to. My dancing troupe came to a village I was staying at so I joined and never looked back." Her eyes had glazed over talking about her father and Dimitri's heart ached.

"My father also left me some years ago. He was murdered." That last sentence came out harder than he meant it to. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, trying to recollect himself. He felt a hand on his.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Dima." Byleth gave his hand a gentle squeeze. Her hands were warm and much smaller than his. They were more calloused than he had expected. She took them away far too soon and Dimitri immediately missed the sensation.

She clasped her hands in front of her and gave a small chuckle. "This is a much more sobering conversation than I am used to. Men don't typically wish to talk to me so much."

He frowned down at her. "Why not? You are incredibly interesting."

Her eyes widened for just a minute and he could have swore he heard her suck in some air quickly. She recovered quickly and smirked. "Well typically conversation is not what they are looking for."

Dimitri's frown grew deeper, not understanding what she was implying at first. When he did, his eyes went wide and his face went red. He pushed himself off of the wall, turning to face her properly and holding his hands out. "I assure you, I had no intention of-"

Byleth laughed. Her eyes crinkled, her teeth shone and her shoulders shook slightly. Despite his embarrassment, Dimitri found himself wishing he could bottle up that sound and take it home with him. His stomach felt like it did ten backflips and his heart jumped up and down.

"Don't worry, I didn't think you were trying anything. I knew when I saw you in the crowd. You have good eyes. Honest eyes." She smiled up at him. "I am an excellent judge of character."

Dimitri sank back down against the wall beside her. They stood in silence for a while, listening to the sounds of the fair. He could hear people chattering, children playing, friends laughing together. How long had it been since he had really heard the sounds of life around him?

From a distance, he could hear a flute and fiddle beginning to play a tune. He didn't recognise the song, but Byleth seemed to. Her eyes brightened and she jumped from the wall.

"Oh these musicians are brilliant, you must see them!"

Excitedly, she grabbed his hand and began pulling him towards the music. Dimitri followed her without protest, smiling at her casual contact. If she knew who he actually was, would she take his hand so easily? Of course not, he chided himself. Best not to dwell on such irrelevant thoughts.

Byleth walked quickly towards the music, Dimitri shortly behind her. They reached a clearing in the city. He recognised it as an area where horses and carts typically went through but it had been closed off for pedestrians use only today. Up against a big stone building were two musicians and a crowd had formed around them in a semi circle shape, people clapping and occasionally throwing a few gold coins.

Byleth maneuvered her way to the front of the crowd, Dimitri in tow. She smiled and swayed softly to the slow, sad song the musicians played.

"The musicians are old members of my father's mercenary company," she explained. "We left around the same time and often bump into each other at festivals."

Dimitri nodded, taking a closer look at the musicians. Looking at the two men now, he could see that they could have been mercenaries in a past life. Both were much stronger than your average musician and one had a scar along the left hand side of his jaw.

They finished the song, looked up at the crowd, and spied Byleth. She gave a tiny wave and they nodded at her, smiling widely. The man with the scar whispered to the other and then they both grinned, picking up their instruments again. The song they began to play was lighter, more playful than the lament before it. It had a faster beat and the audience began clapping along to the rhythm.

Byleth, who still hadn't let go of Dimitri's hand, turned to face him with such unbridled joy at the sound of the new tune.

"I adore this song!"

Her smile was infectious. This wasn't like any of her other smiles he had seen today, it wasn't composed or a reaction to anything amusing. This smile felt as though her soul had come out of her body to appear on her face. Looking at this smile, it was easy to believe there was only good in the world. How could a world that made her smile like this possibly be as dangerous as Uncle Rufus made it out to be?

Without thinking, Dimitri began to sweep his thumb across the back of her knuckles gently. After years of being inside a dull, stone castle, where the cold and gloom got to everyone in the end, he couldn't put it into words how wonderful it was to spend this time with someone like Byleth. Someone who had faced hardships, but made the best of each day and found things to smile brightly about. He didn't think he'd ever be able to convey how much this day meant to him.

Byleth yanked on his arm, pulling him out of his thoughts. Her blue, sea eyes sparkled up at him as she said "Dance with me."

"O-Oh no, I couldn't." Her eyes narrowed slightly, that beautiful smile falling from her face. He cursed himself for being the one that made it drop. "I am not a very good dancer at the best of times, next to you I'd be-"

He was cut off by Byleth poking him in the chest. "Let me tell you a secret, Dima. Dancing isn't about technique or style. It's about laying your soul bare! Expressing everything that you feel when words aren't enough." She smirked up at him, a playful glint in her eyes. "Let me show you."

With that, she pulled from his hand and leapt in front of the crowd. She began spinning around, clapping and jumping. She was much less polished than when she had performed on the stage with choreography, but here she looked like she was having much more fun. The two musicians laughed as she picked up her skirt and began to twirl it around.

A few children giggled and ran out to join her. She grabbed their hands and began to swing them around, lifting their feet off the ground. Setting them back down, she turned around to Dimitri again, holding out a hand with an expectant smile.

If he had learnt one thing this afternoon, it was that he couldn't say no to her.

He walked out to her outstretched hand cautiously. Once he was near enough, Byleth grabbed both his hands and began to pull him around in a circle. He laughed softly, this was very different to the ballroom dances that had been drilled into him as a child.

She lifted up one arm and spun him around underneath, before twirling underneath it herself. She did that a few times, never letting her eyes leave his face. He began to smile, every few seconds it grew wider. He took over as the lead, spinning her under his arm himself before linking his right arm through her's and running around in a circle.

Byleth laughed loudly, skipping around him gleefully. The music grew, and all Dimitri could see was her. Her smile, her laugh, her hands in his. This, he thought, this was happiness. This was what true, pure happiness felt like.

The music got louder and louder, faster and faster. Dimitri was now grinning back at her, laughing with her. He could feel the music in his chest, as if his heart beated to the rhythm. In a moment of joy, he picked her up by the waist and spun her around as she put her hands on his shoulders.

"You are a wonderful dancer, Dima!" she called and he laughed loudly. He placed her back and the ground and the song ended. The crowd applauded as Dimitri and Byleth stood staring at each other, smiling and out of breath.

Byleth's face was flushed, her blue fringe sticking to her forehead with sweat. Dimitri could feel that his face was also warm, droplets of sweat running down it. He was sweltering now in his heavy cloak and wished for nothing more than to take it off. He didn't though, pulling at the hood with his right hand to make sure it was still secured properly.

Then, instead of dropping his hand back down to his side where it belonged, he reached out to brush a strand of Byleth's hair behind her ear. Her pretty pink mouth parted slightly as she stared up at him. Her eyes really were so beautiful. He ran his fingers down the strand of hair, rubbing it between his thumb and index finger. Her hair was such a lovely colour.

The town bell rang out loudly, bringing Dimitri out of his trance. Five rings. He dropped the lock of hair he had been holding, realising he had to leave. He had to meet Dedue and go back to the castle. He had to leave Byleth.

She was still staring up at him. Her face was still red, even though his own had calmed down. Her eyes were wide and she was breathing shallowly, clutching at her cloak.

"Dima, I-"

"I have to go." He winced once he realised he had cut her off. Her face fell and she stared down at her shoes. "I-I don't want to," he scrambled to explain. "I'm not supposed to be out, I have to go before they realise I am gone. I would much rather stay with you. I would stay with you for as long as I possibly could." He cringed, that was too much, too strong.

He felt her fingers lace through his. Byleth smiled up at him, a small, knowing smile. "Walk me back?" she asked. He nodded, and they walked back through town in silence, their hands interlocked.

They reached the square with the stage and the dancers' caravan too soon. Four, large men were disassembling part of the stage. It looked like the festivities were finishing up for the day.

"Thank you for spending your stolen day with me, Dima," Byleth said once they stood in front of the small steps leading into the caravan.

"I couldn't have imagined a better way to spend it," Dimitri replied. A flustered smile bloomed on her face, and made his heart flutter. He didn't want to leave, couldn't let this be the last time he saw her.

As if she had read his mind, Byleth said "I would like to see you again." She looked at him, gauging his reaction. His lopsided grin must have been the answer she had been seeking. "I am performing tomorrow afternoon. Could you sneak away again to meet me after?" she asked, a teasing tone making its way through her voice.

"I would love nothing more."

Satisfied, Byleth nodded with a smirk. "Until tomorrow then, Sir Dima."

She gave him a wave and went to turn away. Dimitri reached out and grabbed her hand, wanting to feel its warmth one more time. She spun around and raised an eyebrow. Slowly, he brought her hand to his lips and placed a small kiss on her knuckles.

"I look forward to it most ardently, Byleth." He dropped her hand quickly and turned on his heel, not wanting her to see the crimson colour that jumped to his face.

He had walked away too fast to see the pink blush that grew across Byleth's cheeks too.

Chapter Text

Dimitri walked briskly back through town, towards the castle walls. By his estimation, it was about twenty minutes after the fifth bell, making him twenty minutes late to meet Dedue. He winced, hoping his retainer hadn't begun to worry too much.

A few feet in the distance, he could see a tall silhouette standing alert in a similar large cloak to the one he had over his head. Dimitri let out a small sigh of relief and jogged over to him.

"Dedue!" he called out. The tall man whipped around and his stern face visibly relaxed when he saw the prince.

"Your Highness… I was worried. I am glad to see you unharmed," Dedue said with a small smile. Dimitri gave one in return.

"I am so sorry for my tardiness. I got… delayed." Dedue's head tilted and his eyebrows furrowed.

"Did something happen?"

Dimitri moved ahead of him slightly to get a better view of the castle wall. There was still no guard outside of the passage into the kitchen. If Uncle Rufus found this out, he would most certainly have the captain of the knights' head.

"I will tell you when we are back inside."

The sky had begun to darken as the sun set, making it much easier to approach the stone passage unseen. According to Dedue, the kitchen staff should be starting dinner soon. They would be cutting it close but they should be okay.

Dedue once again took the lead as they went through the corridor, moving quickly. Light signalled the end of the tunnel and he cautiously stuck his head into the kitchen. It was empty. But the stove was on, suggesting it wouldn't be empty for long. The cook must have gone to fetch some kind of ingredients from storage. He gestured hurriedly for Dimitri to follow him and they ran from the kitchen hastily.

Up the stairs they walked, along winding hallways. The stone walls seemed even more unwelcoming than usual after the two young mens' stint outside. Dedue held his breath, expecting at any moment for a knight or, Goddess forbid, the king, to catch them skulking around the castle. However, that never happened and they arrived uninterrupted at Dimitri's door.

Once both were in the door, Dimitri closed it hastily and took off his cloak. He motioned for Dedue to do the same thing. He then took both cloaks and tucked them away under his bed. He collapsed on top of the bed and let out a loud yawn, grinning to himself. Dedue chuckled and yawned too, before turning around to light the big fireplace in Dimitri's room. The day may have been warmer than usual but once the sun went down, it was impossible to escape the brutal cold of Faerghus nights.

"So," Dedue said from in front of the mantelpiece, stacking a few cuts of wood into the hearth. "You said you had gotten delayed. Was everything okay?"

Just the mere memory of Byleth had Dimitri smiling widely. He jumped off of the bed and made his way over to the fireplace.

"Everything was more than okay, my friend. It was fantastic, it was wonderful!" Dedue had never seen the man this giddy. He may as well have been jumping up and down on the spot. "I met someone, Dedue."

The retainer's eyes narrowed as he looked the prince up and down. "We were not to talk to anyone. Who did you meet? What if they tell the knights you were out? What if they get in contact with His Majesty?"

Dimitri only waved a hand dismissively. "She was not from Faerghus, I told her I was a knight."

Dedue raised an eyebrow. "A lady, then?" He nearly snorted as he watched a pink colour rise to Dimitri's face.

"A-Ah yes. A dancer. She performed on that stage we saw."

Dedue began stoking the fire, the flames beginning to dance around and heat slowly making its way into the cold room. He had to make sure the room was suitably warm by the time a servant came to fetch His Highness for dinner. Else they would wonder why the room was so cold if this is where they had been all afternoon.

"Her name is Byleth. She was born in the empire and used to be a mercenary."

"That is quite the change in career, mercenary to dancer," Dedue noted.

Dimitri hummed in response. "I suppose. She is an incredible dancer though. She has this command of the stage, of the audience. You almost can't look away from her when she performs," he gushed.

"I see," was all Dedue said in response. He moved away from the fire, it should burn away by itself until dinner. He rubbed his hands together before turning back to face Dimitri, who was clearly bursting to say more. He sat on a small footstool, just beside the large plush couch. Holding the poker in between his large hands he gestured for the prince to continue. Dimitri was only too happy to oblige.

"She came to talk to me after her performance, can you believe? We walked around town, got food and talked. She is so interesting, I can hardly imagine the life she has led. It was so wonderful to spend that time with her." He was now pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, gesticulating with his hands. "She got me to dance in the middle of the streets. Me! I was not going to but she has this infectious joy about her."

He slowed for a minute, smiling softly as her face filled his mind. Her beautiful eyes, the captivating smile that could most definitely light up any room she walked into. His heart began to beat faster as he thought about her small, warm hands holding his, her large blue eyes staring up at him.

Grinning, he turned to face Dedue, who was clearly smiling at him with amusement. He didn't even care. "I am to see her again tomorrow. We have to sneak out again."

The smile vanished from Dedue's face. "Your Highness… I am not sure there will be time for that."

Standing in front of the fireplace, Dimitri's eyebrows began to pinch together. "What do you mean? We can just do like we did this afternoon."

"The Founding Day ball is tomorrow, sire."

Dread began sinking it, settling itself nicely in the deepest pit of his stomach. How could he have forgotten about the ball tomorrow evening? "Well, we'll just have to leave early. I can be back with more than enough time to spare to get ready," he reasoned.

Dedue's town became hushed and gentle. "I believe some of the nobility is to arrive in the early afternoon. I hear His Majesty plans on getting you to help him with any finishing touches."

"Who is arriving early afternoon? The ball is not to begin until the seventh bell!" That dread feeling was worming around his stomach now, making its way up to grip onto his heart.

"Duke Fraldarius, Count Galatea, Margrave Gautier, and their families, I believe," Dedue responded softly. This was Dimitri's own doing, he had asked his uncle to please allow his friends to come earlier in the day so that he could have someone to talk to.

"I… I won't be able to see her?" he asked slowly.

Dedue shook his head. "I do not think so, Your Highness."

The queasy dread turned to lead, sinking his stomach down. His heart felt like it was being squashed by an iron fist. If the Founding Day ball was tomorrow, that meant the festivities would finish up. Tomorrow would be the last day the fair, the stalls, the games, the performers would be in town. Byleth would be gone after tomorrow, to the next town or further. When would he see her again? Would he ever see her again?

Dimitri sank down onto the sofa in front of the fire. Perhaps this was for the best, he tried to reason. Sneaking out again tomorrow would be difficult, he would be needlessly risking his and Dedue's life. And even if he did see her tomorrow, she would be moving on either way. Perhaps it was better to leave their meeting as a wonderful, once in a lifetime surprise. A reminder that this world can be filled with good, colourful moments.

After a long, agonising silence, Dimitri looked up at his retainer with a melancholic smile. "Forgive me, Dedue. That was not very becoming behaviour."

Dedue sat with him until dinner, watching the prince sadly as the larger man talked about his own day in town. Dimitri listened attentively, and did his best to push any thoughts of the beautiful blue haired dancer out of his head.

Dimitri was in bed. He could feel the warm sunlight shining through the large window in front of the bed. The bedsheets were brushing off of his skin as he began to wake up. Something was tickling his nose. He opened one eye slowly, then the other.

There was a woman in his bed. She was curled up in his arms, her body soft and warm against his own. Her navy blue hair brushed against his face. She felt him stir and began to move, opening her dark ocean eyes and looking up at him. Her pink mouth pulled into a smirk and she moved up towards his face, planting a soft kiss on his lips.

Dimitri hummed happily and pulled her closer to him again. He could stay here forever. Here, in bed with Byleth.

"Your Highness?"

"Hm?" Dimitri pulled away a little to run his fingers along the side of her face. Her eyes fell lidded as he dragged a thumb across her lips. They were so beautiful, just like everything else about her.

"Your Highness?"

That didn't quite sound like her sultry voice. His eyebrows narrowed as he kept staring at her. Her mouth hadn't moved. He must have been imagining the voice.

A loud knock. "Your Highness!"

Dimitri sat up bolt right in his bed. The day outside was grey and it had already started snowing. The truth already dawning on him, he futilely looked down at the bed beside him. Obviously, there was no Byleth there. He put his hand down on the bed where she had been laying a minute ago. It was cold.

A knock sounded again. "Your Highness, are you awake? His Majesty wishes for you to join him for breakfast."

"Ah yes, my apologies! I will be down shortly," he called back to the servant outside his door. He did his best to shove the dream aside, repeating his points about why it was better that he didn't see her again. However, the image of holding Byleth closely in his bed didn't leave his head once as he got dressed and walked down to his uncle's dining hall.

Their breakfast was quiet, as usual, with only a few words exchanged between the two. Uncle Rufus would ask Dimitri to dine with him typically thrice a week, at varying times. Dimitri would gladly oblige, he was very grateful to his uncle and always tried to show that. They just didn't have much in common. Dimitri enjoyed outdoor activities, training with a lance and horse riding. Rufus preferred social events, swarays and tea parties. He was far more extroverted than Dimitri and the prince was sure that his uncle found it odd he didn't wish to attend every gathering with him.

When Dimitri turned 16, he began to take a more active interest in the Kingdom's affairs and tried to have conversations with his uncle about what would be best for their people. All of those conversations had ended with an argument and he had once upset Rufus so much they didn't dine together for two weeks.

It's not that Uncle Rufus was a bad king. He simply wanted to keep the status quo. He had never had any interest in taking the throne. From what Dimitri knew, his grandfather had been a hard man and raised his sons cruelly. Rufus, as the crestless eldest, received most of his ire. While drunk, Rufus had told him that he had no desire to take part in a system that treated the majority of its people so brutally. And, he had added, a king is far less likely to get away with the pleasures he liked to indulge in.

After breakfast, Dimitri was told to go ensure that preparations had begun in the ballroom. It seemed like a bit of a pointless endeavour, the staff in the castle were diligent and likely would have been cleaning and decorating the main halls and corridors of the castle since dawn. Nevertheless, he made his way down the ballroom.

As he expected, when he arrived there were already tens of servants bustling around. The dais at the top of the room had been brushed and his uncle's throne had been polished pristinely. Dimitri's seat, to the right of the king's throne had also been shined. He stood for a bit at the doorway, watching them lower chandeliers to replace the candles and hoist them back up again. Candles were also fitted into sconces on the walls. The ball was to begin at the sixth bell, meaning it will have long since grown dark.

When the Housekeeper noticed Dimitri, she ran over and curtsied deeply. Already knowing the answer, Dimitri offered to help and she firmly and persistently told him not to lift a finger. He watched for a little longer and then elected to walk around the castle gardens outside instead.

Even outside in the bitter cold, servants were running around, sweeping the pavement. The snow had stopped falling, leaving a fresh, white blanket across the ground.

Dimitri walked around for a spell, pulling the heavy cloak he had put on before coming out closer around him. He found a small, secluded gazebo and sat down on one of its benches, out of reach from the snow. He gazed off in the direction of the town, listening for the sounds of the fair.

Would Byleth wait for him after her show? Surely not. Another suitor would ask her to spend the day with them. His face grew warm. Is that what he thought he was to her? A suitor? He audibly let out a scoff, dropping his head into his hands.

Would she come to the ball? Was it invite only or open invitation? Knowing Uncle Rufus, of course it was invite only. If he had been thinking yesterday, he could have invited her.

He wasn't sure if his mind was playing tricks on him but he could swear he could hear the music Byleth's dancer troupe performed to. She surely was captivating the audience as he sat there. He leaned against the wall, closed his eyes and listened to the wonderful noises of the festival. Sounds he now associated with freedom. Music that sounded like Byleth.

Something was poking at Dimitri's face. He wrinkled his nose, moving his head away from whatever it was. Another poke. He still didn't open his eyes. He must have fallen asleep outside at the gazebo. He had had another dream about her. They danced together in a green meadow. Her hair had shone in the sun and she had wrapped her arms around him, embracing him warmly and intimately. He wanted to go back to that meadow.

"Sylvain! What are you doing?"

Dimitri knew that voice. He cracked open one eye to find a familiar toothy grin, mischievous brown eyes and a head of red hair that had been messed up just so. Dimitri all but jumped up off the bench. How long had he been asleep out here? Goddess, he must have missed their arrival.

"Your Highness! I am so sorry about him, he must have spotted you before us." A blonde woman came up to Sylvain and Dimitri from behind, giving the red head a light slap on the back of his head. Sylvain only laughed, still grinning cheekily.

"Don't waste your breath, Ingrid, you know he's a lost cause." That sharp tone could only belong to Felix, one of Dimitri's oldest friends. He and Rodrigue had very much acted like a surrogate family after his parents murder, even moreso than Uncle Rufus.

"I-I apologise, I didn't realise you had arrived. I must have fallen asleep when I-"

Dimitri's explanation was cut of when Sylvain punched him lightly in the arm. Ingrid made a sound of horror but he didn't care as he wrapped an arm around Dimitri's neck, pulling him towards him.

"Oh don't worry about that. Dedue already told us all about it," Sylvain said jovially. The large Duscur man made himself known, joining the four nobles under the gazebo.

"His Majesty," Felix sneered, "said you were busy helping with preparations for tonight. He toddled off after greeting us to be unhelpful somewhere else." Ah yes, Felix's thinly-veiled contempt for Rufus. It was little secret between the noble houses that the Fraldariuses did not have much time for the king regent. Both father and son didn't approve of how he did nothing to stop the slaughter at Duscur. Rodrigue was always far more civil than his son, however.

"So have you done moping? Or out for a secret rendezvous?" Sylvain had begun shaking Dimitri as Ingrid protested loudly. How lively the gloomy castle had become.

"What in the Goddess's name are you talking about Sylvain?" Dimitri tried unsuccessfully to get out of his grip. The man had a surprisingly strong iron grip, especially considering he was not one for training.

"Don't try and weasel out of this one, Your Highness. We know you weren't helping out with preparations. We know you were off thinking about your beautiful dream girl."

Dimitri's stopped struggling against Sylvain. "Wh-What?!" His face felt like it was on fire. He turned to look at Dedue, the man who must have ratted him out.

"I am sorry, Your Highness. Your friends were worried." The glint in his eyes told Dimitri he was, in fact, not sorry at all.

"Who is she, Your Highness? Is she a noble?" Oh no, Ingrid was joining in on Sylvain's tormenting. He looked pleading over at Felix, who simply shrugged with his arms crossed.

"Don't look at me, you've never expressed much of an interest in anyone before. I'm just as curious."

Ingrid had managed to shove Sylvain off of him but replaced his grip with a strong grip of her own on his arm. "Where did you meet her? Was she at the castle?"

"How come she's not invited to the ball? Old man Rufus not approve?" Sylvain piped in.

"Who cares if he doesn't approve? Why didn't you have the balls to invite her anyway?" scoffed Felix.

"Okay, okay, enough!" Dimitri had to yell to be heard over the barrage of questions coming from the three other nobles. He looked over accusingly at Dedue, whose lips were upturned in a microscopic smile. He often looked forward to when the prince's friends came to visit. Although they often refused to call him by his given name - as it was beaten into them that the royal family deserved the utmost of respect - they were often the only people who didn't put him on an impossibly high pedestal. They simply treated him as the man and friend he was. They were always a welcome colour into the stone walls.

"What exactly did Dedue tell you?" Dimitri was demanding.

Sylvain's mouth grew into a lopsided grin. "He held out on all the juicy bits. All he said was that you may have been in your room when we arrived, stricken by lovesickness as you could not see your beloved tonight."

A hot, tomato-coloured tidal wave of embarrassment rolled up Dimitri's neck to wash over his face. He stared slack jawed at his retainer, who had the decency to look slightly scandalised at Sylvain's description.

"I did not phrase it that way, Your Highness. Lord Gautier exaggerates greatly," he defended.

Dimitri massaged at his temples with his hands. This was not how he envisioned this afternoon going. He was supposed to greet his friends, ask them about how their lives were going, perhaps spar with Felix or Ingrid and then get ready for the ball. He was not supposed to be the centre of a unified attack, and they were not supposed to know about Byleth.

But it was clearly too late to attempt to salvage that plan. The look on all three of their faces told him that if he even dared try and change the subject, they would drag him back to it kicking and screaming. Utterly defeated, he let out a long sigh.

"Fine. Fine, I will tell you. But not here." Anyone servant could overhear them in the gardens and then run off to report him to Uncle Rufus. "We can call for tea in my drawing room."

Ingrid nodded enthusiastically, Sylvain slapped him heartily on the back and Felix merely turned on his heel, already walking towards the drawing room. Dedue followed the four nobles from behind, watching them pretend to talk about other things until they got to their destination to hear what they really wanted to talk about.

Dimitri's personal drawing room was in the room adjacent to his bedroom, with a hefty door between them for ease of access. It wasn't anything exceptionally ornate, like most of Fhiardiad Castle. In the centre of the room, in front of the large fireplace, was a small, square mahogany table with two sofas on either side, each with deep blue cushions. Grey throws made from wolf pelts were also thrown over each sofa. By the large windows was a circular table, the same shade of mahogany, with six chairs around it.

Dimitri had called for tea and some snacks, as he was feeling quite peckish. He insisted on waiting to tell his friends anything until the food had been delivered. Two maids, one smaller than the other, had brought them up a pot of tea and some dried meats, cheeses and a few cakes. They both curtsied deeply before leaving.

Two seconds after the door shut, Sylvain and Ingrid began their barrage of questioning. Both had been positively shaking with anticipation for the half hour they sat in the drawing room.

"So who is she, Your Highness? A noble? Did she visit the castle recently?" Ingrid got her questions out first.

"N-No, she didn't visit the castle. She's not a noble, she's a-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Sylvain descended upon him, grabbing him into a rough headlock. "You sly dog! She's a commoner? How did you manage to sneak her past old Rufus?" He loosened his grip for a second for Dimitri to see the cheeky smile that often denoted he was thinking about something inappropriate and often incorrect. "Did you meet her at a broth-"

Felix thankfully silenced him with a solid whack to the back of his head. Sylvain held his head with his hand and began protesting loudly. "If you don't want to get hit, don't behave like such a buffoon," Felix spat. Dimitri took this opportunity to get out of Sylvain's grip and stood up.

"Royalty don't exactly get a lot of opportunities to meet commoners, Felix! I thought maybe His Royalest Majesty had gotten him an early birthday present."

Ingrid made a sound that could only be described as a squawk. "Sylvain! That is totally inappropriate! Besides, His Highness would never visit such a place."

Sylvain only laughed, putting his hands behind his head. After appropriately chiding him, Ingrid turned back to Dimitri. "Forgive us, Your Highness. You just tell us how you met her."

Dimitri took a quick look at Dedue, who gave him a reassuring nod to let him know it was okay to tell them. Taking a deep breath, Dimitri sat down on the opposite sofa to his friends and told them about their adventure yesterday. Asking permission from Uncle Rufus, sneaking out with Dedue, the different stands, the food, the music, the smells. And finally, meeting Byleth.

Try as he might, he couldn't help the small smile that began to form on his face as he talked about her performance, the command she had of the stage. He explained how she approached him after and their day together.

Sylvain was the first to speak once he finished talking. "So what does she look like? She must be quite the beauty to have caught your eye."

Dimitri expected Ingrid to chide their friend but she was also looking at him expectantly.

"She's… I have never seen anyone like her." A warm feeling spread across his chest. "She has this navy blue hair, these deep ocean eyes…" He let out an airy laugh. "Her smile could light up the darkest room, her laugh sounds like home."

Sylvain let out a low whistle, bringing Dimitri back into the room. Across from him, Ingrid sat with a hand on her heart and Felix had an eyebrow raised. He wiped his hands off of his trousers, realising he should be embarrassed by what he just said.

"My apologies, I got too sentimental."

"Well, no wonder you were upset she couldn't come tonight. It sounds as if she really made an impression," Ingrid said softly.

"It is probably for the best," Dimitri reasoned aloud. He repeated to his friends the thoughts he had been trying to keep on a loop in his head all day. "She will be moving off tomorrow with her troupe. Besides, there is no future there. I am the crown prince. The well-being of the Kingdom comes first and foremost."

Ingrid went to say something in disagreement, but Dimitri offered her a cup of tea instead, a silent sign to change the subject. They stayed in the drawing room for the afternoon, talking about their respective training, the state of affairs in their territories and reminiscing about their childhood. Dimitri didn't allow Byleth to be brought up again.

Chapter Text

The seventh bell rang out loud and clear as the doors to Fhiardiad Castle opened. Guests began piling into the large ballroom, a footman at the door announcing each loudly.

The ballroom was lit up by large chandeliers each holding over a dozen candles. Banners hung from the walls, displaying the crests of Blaiddyd, Charon, Daphnel, Dominic, Fraldarius, and Gautier. In between each crest banner were large blue banners with a knight atop a Griffin, the banner of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus.

At the north wall lay the dais. The king's throne stood in the middle, with King Regent Rufus sat on it, reclining in - what many nobles would call - an unprofessional manner and chewing at his nails. The large, golden Faerghus crown sat on his shaggy blond hair. The deep blue and grey cloak he wore tumbled over the side of the throne.

To his right, on a slightly smaller and less ornate chair sat Prince Dimitri. Unlike his uncle, he sat upright, hands placed on his lap, a forced gentle smile on his face. He was wearing black trousers and black boots, a brilliant royal blue velvet tunic and a white shirt underneath it. The crown on his head was far smaller and daintier than the king's.

Dimitri pushed down sighs and tried his best not to fiddle too much. His tunic felt slightly too tight. He would need to have it altered. He had gotten it as a sixteenth birthday gift but had clearly outgrown it. The small crown on his head was heavy and he kept wanting to scratch around it. However, he was terrified of snapping it in half if he touched it. Anytime he had to wear it, he had a servant put it on and take it off. He couldn't for the life of him fathom why the family line known for their inhuman strength had decided on such a delicate crown for their princes.

Sitting as straight as he could, he let his eyes wander around the hall. There was a small stage set up in the middle for the dancing act that was to perform shortly. 'Stage' was a generous term, he supposed. It was really a circular platform of wood that could be easily taken out of the room after the performance. Simple wooden seats were set out around the stage for the guests.

On the left of the hall, he could see Sylvain, Felix and Ingrid had already taken their seats. Ingrid looked as uncomfortable as he felt in a long, turquoise dress with draped sleeves that reached the floor. Felix had combed his hair, which was about the most effort he usually exerted into his appearance. Sylvain was dressed in a white shirt and dark garnet waistcoat, both of which were unbuttoned halfway down his chest.

They seemed to be talking to a small girl with red hair. Ah yes, Annette Dominic, he reminded himself. He believed she was his old tutor and knight's, Sir Gustave's, daughter.

Sylvain caught Dimitri's eye and gave him a wave. Dimitri nodded and smiled back, keeping his hands flat on his lap. People made their way up to the dais, bowing deeply and offering gratitudes for being invited, and then moved off to take a seat for the show.

Dimitri would always bow his head back with his attempt at a warm smile. Uncle Rufus would simply nod and dismiss them with a wave. Dimitri had to stifle an eye roll each time. Although he loved parties, Rufus hated that he was now constantly under a watchful and expectant eye at every event. Dimitri knew he hated the empty platitudes and the way no one would engage with him as they used to when he was merely the king's drunk older brother. But that was part of being a leader. He suspected that as soon as it was socially acceptable, the king regent would be off in his office, drinking copious amounts of whiskey and trying to convince whatever woman caught his eye during the night into his bed.

The dancers' performance would begin soon. Everyone in the large hall had taken their seats around the circular platform. Dimitri relaxed slightly in his chair, allowing his shoulders to slump a little now that eyes were off of him. Because the dais was raised, they would have the best view of the performance.

Music began to play softly, a prelude to the upcoming show. Dimitri rested his cheek on his fist, leaning on the arm of the chair. He wondered what dance company would be performing tonight. Perhaps the Mittlefrank Opera Company had allowed some dancers to travel out.

The audience grew silent as people in dark cloaks walked up and onto the stage. The soft music stopped as the dancers began to get into formation. A loud bang of drums signalled the beginning of the show and the dancers tore off their cloaks. Dimitri's breathing got caught in his throat and his eyes almost fell out of his head.

There, at the front of the stage, was Byleth.

She was wearing a silver and white costume with pink accents. Her top was cropped and hung on one shoulder, showing her very toned stomach. The skirt was open on one side with a long slit, exposing her right leg. On both arms she wore several gold bracelets. A piece of pink cloth was attached to two of her bracelets, connecting the fabric to the gold armbands she wore. Her feet were bare.

Dimitri had moved to the edge of his seat, gripping the arm of his chair. He didn't notice Uncle Rufus's inquisitive glance as he stared at the stage with his mouth open. She was here. She was performing here. In the ballroom. With him at the top. Seated next to the king regent in his finest, princeliest clothes.

Byleth curtsied deeply, her bracelets chiming together. She rose from her curtsy with lidded eyes and a smirk. Facing the dais, they made eye contact. She faltered for a split second, her gorgeous blue eyes growing wide and that pretty pink mouth forming a small 'o' shape. She had recognised him.

She recovered quickly as sweeping strings began to play and moved behind the other dancers. The music grew and they began the performance.

The dance told the story of a beautiful silver princess, played by Byleth, who lived in a war torn country. Three factions, the red faction, the blue faction, and the yellow faction spilt blood, terrorised citizens and destroyed the land. One day, the silver princess met and fell in love with the leader of the blue faction. When they met, the orchestra slowed as Byleth and a man dressed in blue with light purple hair danced around each other, barely touching but always gazing longingly.

Changed by the silver princess's love, the blue knight called for a meeting of the factions, determined to end the war. The red emperor and the yellow captain agreed to meet him.

The red emperor was played by a girl with short orange hair and she moved around the stage with grace and purpose. The yellow captain, a young blond man, was lighter on his feet, flitting back and forth. The two leaders danced and whispered with their soldiers before meeting with the blue knight.

At the meeting, the blue knight tried to appeal to the red emperor and yellow captain. He laid down his sword, and danced in perfect synchronisation with his people to show they were unified in their goal for peace.

The red emperor approached him, walking on her tiptoes over. Just as it appeared she was about to shake his hand, a red soldier handed her a dagger and she stabbed the blue knight in his chest. The audience gasped as the yellow captain appeared behind the blue knight and drove another knife into his back. They flung their weapons onto the ground and ran, their soldiers following them.

The music became quiet and melancholic as the silver princess came back on stage and ran to her lover's now dead body. Dimitri watched with bated breath as Byleth grabbed at the purple haired man's chest. He could almost hear his heart crack as her eyes welled up with tears that fell slowly down her cheeks. He gripped at the arms of the chair, feeling the need to remind himself that it was just a dance, she was just acting. It didn't make just sitting there, hearing her sobs echo throughout the hall, any easier.

The music suddenly grew dark as Byleth spied the discarded daggers. You could have heard a pin drop in the ballroom as she grabbed at them and ran off the stage, tears spilling down her face. She had completely and utterly captivated the room of nobles.

The red emperor and yellow captain came back on opposite sides of the stage, unaware of what their actions had caused. Facing outwards, they didn't see the silver princess come up behind them. A crash of cymbals denoted the yellow captain's death, the silver princess standing over his fallen body.

Dimitri watched, enthralled, as the Byleth and the young, red haired woman danced around each other. They had such chemistry, sparks flew every time they so much as made eye contact with each other.

If he thought she was a good dancer at the festival, there was no choice but to think she was outstanding now. It was as if she weighed nothing as she leapt around the stage, flipped backwards and forwards, spun in circles and bent her body in ways that shouldn't have been possible for a human.

Finally, the silver princess caught up to the red emperor and thrust the dagger through her heart. The emperor fell and the knife clattered to the floor. The silver princess turned to face the dais, holding out her blood stained hands. She had become tainted by the violence she so hated. The strings faded out, leaving only the slow and steady drums as she collapsed on the floor.

When the drums stopped, the room was silent. No one had expected such an emotional performance from a group of travelling dancers, used to performing in the streets. Someone in the crowd finally began to clap before the entire audience rose to their feet, applauding loudly.

Dimitri also rose to his feet, clapping enthusiastically with a huge smile across his face. The warmth spreading across his chest felt like pride, pride for Byleth. The performers all came out on stage to bow before backing off to leave the four leads only on stage.

She was walking around the circumference of the stage, waving, blowing kisses and giving sly winks to the most uptight nobles. She faced the dais and they made eye contact. Dimitri gave her a grin, still clapping loudly. Byleth's face fell slightly, just for a split second, and she quickly averted her eye contact.

Dimitri's smile dropped and his clapping slowed. Had the revelation of his true status upset her? Was she upset that he lied to her? Or that he hadn't shown up to meet her this afternoon?

The dancers left the stage and exited the ballroom. Everyone was asked to stay seated while some of the servants came in to dismantle the wooden platform so that the room may be used for dancing.

Dimitri sat back down in his chair, hands shaking slightly. He rubbed them back and forth against his thighs. He had to see her before she left. Explain himself. Ask for her forgiveness for lying. He glanced around the room, willing the staff to move quicker so he could leave his post.

"Did you enjoy the dance, Dimitri?" His uncle's voice snapped him back to reality and he looked to his left to find Rufus looking at him.

"Very much so, Uncle. They were incredibly talented performers," he answered honestly.

Rufus nodded in agreement. "Indeed. The dancer who played the silver princess… She was exceedingly magnificent. Very beautiful."

The way he was moving his index finger back and forth across his bottom lip made Dimitri's stomach turn to lead. He clenched his fists in his lap and said sharply through ground teeth, "Quite."

He needed to leave this room, leave Rufus's side and find Byleth. Before he did. He blocked out the unwelcome image of his uncle attempting to woo the dancer into his bed and continued waiting for the stage to be dismantled.

At long last, the final plank of wood was removed from the ballroom. Rufus stood up and clapped his hands together twice to get everyone's attention. "In celebration of this, the Founding Day of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, please dance and make merry for as long as you please!"

The King Regent made his way off of the dais, his long cape trailing after him as he made his way over to grab a goblet of wine. Likewise, Dimitri also stepped down and quickly walked towards the door the dancers left from.

On the other side, he found himself in a long, apparently empty hallway. He began to panic, what if she had just left immediately afterward the show? That's when he heard laughter coming from further down the hallway. His feet began to move as he realised there was a guest room down this hall, along with a drawing room that was not used very frequently.

He stood outside the door where the commotion was coming from. Taking a deep breath, he went to knock at the door before it opened. He was now face to face with the same midnight blue eyes that had captivated him so.

Byleth had an expression of shock, her mouth hanging open, before she swore under her breath and moved closer to him, shutting the door behind her. They stood chest to chest and Dimitri went to say something before Byleth put a delicate finger against his lips.

"Not here. Let us talk outside."

With that, she began to walk back down the hall, leaving Dimitri and his rapidly beating heart behind him. He moved quickly to catch up with her and took the lead, leading them to a secluded section of the garden.

Snow was falling gently, the sounds of the ball still audible from where they stood. Byleth had changed out of her dancer's costume and into a simple deep purple dress with a bodice pulled tightly. She wore the same cloak she had worn yesterday, the hood pulled over her head to keep her ears warm, and brown boots.

They stood staring at each for a long moment, clearly neither of them sure of what to say. Dimitri figured he should go first. "I am so sorry for lying to you. I wasn't supposed to be outside of the castle. It wasn't my intention to deceive you."

Byleth ran a hand down her face and let out a small incredulous laugh. "I almost fainted when I saw you sitting beside the king. I didn't know what… didn't know how…"

She paused for a second before suddenly bowing at the waist, her eyes trained on the floor. "Please forgive me for my behaviour yesterday, Your Highness! I never would have acted in such a way if I had known. I hope you will not think too lowly of me!"

Her reaction startled him and he took her shoulders, pulling her back up to stand straight. "No! No, do not apologise. You did nothing wrong."

She pulled away from his grip, and took a few steps back to keep a respectable distance between them. "I really did though, Dim- Your Highness." The correction stung. "I made you dance in the streets." She began to shake one of her hands. "I let you kiss my hand! It has to be most unbecoming for a member of royalty to associate with such a lowly person such as-"

Dimitri couldn't bear to listen to anymore. He grabbed her hand and brought it up to his lips again, silencing her. "Yesterday was one of the best days of my entire life. Please do not apologise for a single thing."

Byleth stilled and they stood gazing at each other, her hand in his. The snowflakes danced around them, brushing off of her long eyelashes and nose. He waited for her to say something, anything.

When she finally spoke again, it was with that small smirk that made his heart skip a beat. "I suppose being stood up by a prince means something."

Dimitri winced. "I apologise for that also. I fully intended to see you again, I just forgot about the ball today and then my friends arrived early afternoon and I-"

She giggled, the beautiful sound chiming around them. "I forgive you. Though Leonie teased me mercilessly this afternoon." She puffed out her cheeks at that last sentence. "I expect reimbursement for that ordeal," she said with a wink and his cheeks heated up.

"A-Ah, of course, I could apologise to her if that pleases you."

Byleth laughed again, louder this time. "I don't think so." She raised her index finger to her pink lips and batted her eyelashes. "Let's keep this our secret, Dima."

Hearing his family's pet name on her lips - said so warmly, when she now knew he was - brought a soaring feeling to his heart. He smiled softly and reached to take a strand of her hair, gently twirling it between his fingers.

"I never thought I would see you again," he muttered.

Her playful expression dropped and she took a small step closer to him. "Me neither." Pink dusted her cheeks as she looked up at him through her bangs. He had never seen her so… shy. "I am glad I did."

The snow flurried around them gently. The tip of Byleth's nose had turned red due to the cold. She brought her hand up to his and gently laced their fingers together. Even though she clearly wasn't used to the cold Faerghus weather, her hands still radiated a comforting warmth.

"Yesterday was incredibly important to me too. No one has treated me with such kindness and sincerity in a long time. I suppose that is why I got so upset when…" She trailed off, averting her eyes.

"I am so sorry for upsetting you this afternoon." Dimitri tightened his grip on her fingers slightly. He knew a simple apology could not make up for not meeting up with her again but, for now, it was all he could offer her.

She brought her gaze up to meet his again. He hoped she could feel the sincerity of his sentiment in his gaze. As if in response to his thoughts, she placed her free hand on his chest.

"Dima, I…"

He wasn't entirely sure what came over him as he put his hand gently on her cheek, cupping her face. He saw her glance at his mouth and quickly run her tongue over her own lips. He wasn't thinking as he began to lean down, felt her roll onto the balls of her feet and-

"Your Highness? Your Highness!"

Like a child caught with a hand in the pantry, Dimitri jumped away from Byleth and stood stiffly as a footman came around the corner of the castle to where they were standing.

"Ah, there you are, Your Highness! The Oghma Waltz is to begin soon and it is customary for you to begin it. Perhaps you would like to return to the ball and choose a dance partner?"

Dimitri didn't dare voice his answer in fear his voice would only be a squeak, so he merely nodded. The footman turned and walked back towards the ballroom.

Once he was out of sight, Dimitri turned back to face Byleth. She had turned her face away from the footman, staring down at the floor. Her face seemed as if it was bright red, but she wore that playful smirk of her's. After a few moments of silence, she looked back at him with her head tilted.

"It seems you are needed, Your Highness. I should head back to my troupe. They will be worried about me."

She turned to walk away but stopped only a few steps away from him before turning back around.

"I meant what I said about our time together. I will always treasure it. I think it may be one of the best days of my life too." A new type of smile played on her lips that Dimitri hadn't seen before. It reached her eyes completely, looked thankful and happy. "I won't ever forget you, Dima."

Dimitri watched as she moved away again. His heart pounded loudly and hollowly against his chest. He couldn't let this be the end. He wasn't ready to say goodbye. He didn't want to let her go yet.

"Wait!" he called out, his arm stretched out towards her. Byleth spun around, confusion written across her face.

"Will you be my partner for the Oghma Waltz?"