Chapter 125: Class in session

Claude was, for lack of a better word, slightly concerned.

Or perhaps apprehensive.

It was quite difficult to put a single word on his feelings at this time for as much as he was rather intrigued by the fact that Goetia was now the one teaching their class - for a short time, admittedly - there would be no denying the context surrounding his sudden appointment as their replacement professor.

Word travelled swiftly indeed.

And talk of plagues was always poorly kept after the rather infamous one swept through the Kingdom some years back. Those who lived remembered it well and those who were born after heard only of the stories. Even within the Alliance there was talk of what happened and the dread of if it would spread to them.

Fortunately, it remained as talk.

And Claude was confident in the craft of Manuela and of the Monastery when it came to such things, especially as they were so swift to act upon this.

But there was always the little inkling in the back of his mind that told him to be prepared.

"I'm sure you're pleased."

"What?"

He smiled at the rather curt way Lysithea responded to him, it was a sharp turn of the head and slightly narrowed eyes. The suspicion lingered on him and he could see she just as quickly wanted to ignore him but couldn't quite help herself.

"Sparkles." Claude clarified and saw the brief - and it was brief - flicker of understanding and then she just as quickly turned away from him without actually answering the question.

Although he considered that an answer unto itself.

"Come on." Verbally nudging onwards, he kept just behind her as they walked. "Don't tell me you're not the least bit excited that Sparkles is going to be teaching you properly."

"Perhaps you should recognise that he is to be our interim professor and speak to him with the respect he is owed by this point."

She sounded strained, barely holding back the hiss in her words as she glanced over her shoulder towards him, a glint in her eyes that was as annoyed as it was warning. She was certainly mastering all the mannerisms from Goetia, even if she didn't quite realise it. Or perhaps she was and that was the point.

Who could say?

"Hey now. I always called Manuela a Professor, didn't I?" His smirk didn't quite have the intended effect of reassuring Lysithea. Rather it seemed to have quite the opposite as she just scoffed a bit loud and looked away once again, seemingly being comfortable with just ignoring him.

That stung a little.

Maybe.

Letting her go on ahead, he fell back until he was walking in step with someone who he knew would actually want to speak with him and hold a conversation without having the urge to try and smother him.

Perhaps he was exaggerating a little.

Lysithea just got annoyed with everyone more often than not.

"Chase away again?"

"I prefer the term strategic withdrawal."

Hilda only raised a brow in amusement. "From a conversation? I wasn't quite aware you could do something like that."

"I'm a master at doing the unexpected."

"So that means you're going to be a perfect student and then never make a single witty remark ever again? Perhaps you will strive to become the type of noble that even Lorenz will have to stop and look upon with awe?"

Claude slowly blinked, his arms dropped down towards his side as he stared at the girl before he replied. "I said unexpected. Not the impossible."

Hilda just continued to smile oh-so-innocently at his words, though he was certainly not one to take without giving back just the same. He smirked for a moment and then raised a brow at the girl, folding his arms and pulling out his best smug expression. There was a brief second before he spoke where he saw the sudden look of unease flash across Hilda's face, where it was clear she wasn't going to like whatever he just said.

"So…are you looking forwards to rigorous and uninterrupted learning?"

The way her expression froze like a painting was worth a thousand gold pieces, he would have truly handed over every single ounce of gold he had in his coffers if someone could provide him a portrait of Hilda making such an utterly dumbfounded expression.

Snickering under his breath, he watched as Hilda reigned back control and tilted her head.

"What do you mean?"

Claude spoke between snickers. "Do you think your excuses are gonna work on Sparkles?"

Hilda's face blanked.

Claude threw back his head and laughed.

It seemed as though she had not quite considered that and it was certainly something he would very much look forward to seeing.

Goetia stared at the lesson plans one final time before setting them onto the desk.

He turned towards the door and waited for the class to arrive, if they were smart they would be punctual and arrive and seat themselves in silence until such a time as they were called upon by him to speak. Which, for the purpose of this lesson, would hardly be something he would need to do.

It was, after all, a course on writing.

Writing very small and legible letters.

For carrier pigeons.

Admittedly, it was not what he would have personally chosen for a lesson for the students but at the same time, he could see that some of them would certainly benefit more than others. The mere fact he could already comprise several names without even needing to speak or see the students work was far from high praise for them.

"Flauros."

The single word command earned a brief cheep and a skittering of feet across wood.

The finch charged across the desk with a slip of paper in hand until it was right beside him, then dropping it down next to his hand and leaving it there. He took the paper and waved the bird away with his chin before directing his attention to the entrance of the class.

Just as Lysithea was the first one through the door, already making her way towards her seat.

The next pair to enter were Von Riegan and Hilda.

The latter was known to him through the warnings that Manuela had left behind, it was at least diligent of her to inform him that the girl was known for shirking her duties with flimsy excuses and that several of her written works bore a remarkable resemblance in handwriting to other boys across the monastery.

Such as Caspar.

Goetia was unsure what was worse.

That Hilda would disregard her own learning or that she would seek the aid of Caspar for her academic assessments.

Lorenz entered next.

Arrogant and self-assured.

Leonie.

…She was competent in physical activities but her written works and mathematical skills were still much to be desired. Managing only simple sums and equations. Even if she aimed for a knight, those were still highly sought after traits if she was to even think of rising high in the ranks.

Raphael and Ignatz.

Polar opposites of one another. The former was a mountain of pure muscle and was very nearly one of the strongest in the academy for the students, narrowly being beaten out by Dimitri but the influence of his Crest was to be excused. The latter was smart enough and numerically competent but was lacking when it came to the same physical abilities as his peers.

Marianne.

Quiet and slow to act, she doubted everything she did in a manner not so dissimilar to Bernadetta, it was the comparison he made with the notes provided to him and yet she was more content with suffering in silence than making loud remarks which drew attention to her. He would assume the girl would rather not be the centre of attention.

The comparison between her and Bernadetta did not strike him well, however.

Something else tickled at his sense of empathy.

Something that warned him about trying to read the emotions of the girl.

How he would not want to do that.

Or how he would not like what he discovered.

He inhaled and broke such thoughts away from himself.

"Punctual. I expect you all to maintain this level of attendance for the remainder of my tenure as your Professor…when Manuela returns it shall no longer be my concern."

Could that be described as negligent?

Perhaps, but that was none of his concern what they did when they were in the custody of Manuela or what she allowed them to do.

"As you have doubtless come to realise, from the parchments before you, this lesson will be based upon your literacy abilities and your capacity for compartmentalising information in a concise manner while ensuring that it remains legible."

He was treated to barely half the class looking at him with understanding.

Hmph.

What had Manuela been teaching these children that they were unable to understand such basic instructions?

Goetia rolled his jaw.

"I will provide you with a summary of a situation and you will write it out in a manner easier to follow onto the small roll of parchment in front of you. You will create these messages with the assumption it will be transported via carrier pigeon."

Falling silent, he left open the opportunity for questions.

Claude raised his hand.

He mentally braced himself.

"Yes, Von Riegan?"

"How concise do you want the messages?" Claude asked with a tilt of the head. "Say it's a request for help. Would you be able to get away with writing out, 'send help to' and then that would be it?"

It was difficult to tell whether the boy was truly joking or not, but the question itself was somehow valid.

Yes, that would indeed be the simplest way of refining the message to its barest components, but it also left you with nothing of value.

Goetia raised a brow. "A clear need for details remains. In the example you have given, you would need to specify the assistance you require. Whether it be troops, medical or both. I assume you understand that?"

Claude only smiled as if he had been expecting the answer and nodded his head up and down.

But Goetia caught something else.

It was a brief flicker of movement in the far corner of his eye, but he saw the way that Raphael nodded his head up and down as well. Goetia briefly twitched and glanced in the direction of the boy for but a moment before he turned back around.

Curious.

Then again, Von Riegan often played the fool well enough that it was difficult to recall the boy was actually somewhat intelligent. Though that could either be a compliment for his acting abilities or an insult that he would bungle his way over common sense and then return to being an imbecile.

So long as he achieved the work, that was fine.

"If there are no other questions…" Goetia trailed off and moved towards the board, taking up the chalk as he stepped past his desk. "I will provide you with a hypothetical scenario and you will write out a message informing your superiors of the situation in as brief a manner as you can muster while also finding the balance to ensure that they have enough information so as to not be surprised when they arrive."

He paused for a moment.

"This will also grade the legibility of your handwriting. It can be as simple or as expressive as you wish for it to be, so long as it is readable. Rather, I would strongly advise that you favour practicality over style with such missives. Some would struggle to read cursive writing."

He moved chalk to the board and started writing.

"There is a flock of wyverns headed by a demonic beast that has been attacking the countryside. You have made refuge in a nearby fortress but are running short of supplies. Both for your own forces and for the refugees you have taken into your power. Send word to the nearest source and request support."

Stepping away, he inclined his head to the room.

"You may now proceed."

He was watching her.

She could just feel it.

Yet she did not raise her head towards him, instead focusing on her own work and trying desperately to put the thought from her mind and yet each time she made the effort, there would be a slight tingle on her skin. Her hair would stand on end and she would find the urge to look up upwards to the front of the class.

She could imagine what she would find.

The stares, the judgement.

But it wasn't because she was singled out, but because that was his job. She didn't want to accuse him of anything, either in the open or in her mind. He was just doing what he was supposed to do and she would sometimes feel the same sort of tingle when Professor Manuela was teaching them as well.

But Marianne didn't want to bother anyone.

So she kept quiet and ignored the little tingle, the faint little scratching on her skin that told her someone was watching her. All she could do was the best that she had and if that was enough to not draw attention to herself then that was fine. Because if she messed something up, then that would mean more work needed to put onto her.

Which meant that-

"Pssst."

She flinched ever so slightly, her body jerked and she pulled away her hand from the page just before she could drag her quill across it.

A fortunate thing indeed as if she had not done so, she would have ruined it.

Marianne wet her lips and turned her eyes to the right, Hilda leaned across to her and slid the note into view, drawing her focus to it as the girl continued speaking.

"Does this look right? I get the feeling that he'll frown at me really hard and then make me do it all over again if it isn't good enough-"

Marianne looked at the note for a few moments and found herself somewhat unsure of what she was supposed to say.

"Because I will."

This time she jerked backwards and snapped her head upwards, a silence descended across the room.

Goetia was right in front of their desk, Hilda's chair screeched as she slid back in it, the girl herself letting out a panicked gasp.

The tanned man peered down at Hilda for a moment and then the note on the desk just lifted itself into the air, compelled by some indivisible force, and unfurled right in front of Goetia's eyes. The red orbs swept across it with a slowness about them and the silence started to feel more oppressive than anything else.

And Marianne wasn't even the target for it.

Keeping her head down, she hoped that it would be enough to avoid his attention.

Then his hand moved into her line of sight and she stopped writing, the fingers curled around the corner of her paper and pulled it very slowly away from her before spinning it around on the table.

She dared not move as he read through her work.

Then he just slid it back as though nothing had happened.

Marianne couldn't tell if that was a good or a bad sign.

So she hoped for the former rather than the latter, but would be unsurprised if it was the latter.

"It seems as though you are fortunate, Hilda."

Goetia's voice rang out above her.

"Your work is acceptable. Ensure it remains as such."

"R-right!" Hilda hastily called back, Marianne could hear the strained smile in her words. "Thanks professor! I'll be sure to do that."

She heard nothing else, not even footsteps, and it was that silence will drew her eyes up for a brief moment and let her see that Goetia had since retreated away from them without making a noise. Or rather, she had not seen him move at all and in the brief span of time he had gone from standing in front of their desk to being across the hall.

Did he teleport himself?

No, it would be rude to ask.

So she just kept her head down and looked over the parchment in front of her.

She did not see anything wrong with it, but then again…perhaps she wasn't the best person to proofread her work. There could well have been a mistake within it that she just wasn't good enough to see.

"He's really scary when he wants to be, huh?"

Hilda whispered into her ear.

Marianne just kept her silence, not trusting herself to speak.

She would not have called him scary, no more so than Professor Jeritza.

It was some time later when class ended and the call for lunch was to begin that Professor Goetia spoke out.

"Marianne."

Long before she could ever consider standing up, she went stiff in her chair and turned her eyes towards the front desk. Goetia stood with his back to her and leaned over it, reaching across and flicking his finger towards the little bird which scuttled away from him and went looking for something.

"If you would remain for a moment."

Though the words would have been suited for a request, it was more akin to a demand.

"Uhhh…alright, Professor."

Her words weren't all that loud, they were apparently loud enough that Professor Goetia heard them.

She looked back down to her desk and kept her eyes there as the others shuffled out of the room, there were a few looks from her classmates which she could feel on her skin, a slight nudge from Hilda made her look towards the pink haired girl. A wink and a raised thumb which she assumed was supposed to be reassuring.

Marianne just looked at her and turned away back to her desk.

When the others had left, she glanced up to see Professor Goetia turn around and move across the room towards them, red eyes fixed upon her with…nothing.

It was an expression devoid of emotion and eyes that held no warmth, but they were not cold either.

They were just dull.

Before she realised it, he was standing over her desk and looking down at her.

A blur of movement and a brief skitter, her eyes jerked down to the sight of the finch dropping onto her desk with a familiar roll of parchment held in its beak, it skipped forwards and then placed it down in front of her before turning back around and leaping up into the air, launching itself onto Goetia's shoulder and then sitting down with eyes closed.

It was a nice action.

But whatever warmth she felt from seeing it was quickly drowned out when her eyes looked down to the parchment and she felt herself shrink. Her shoulders tightened and her throat turned rather dry.

She had made a mistake.

She must have done.

…That was as expected.

"Do you think this is acceptable?"

His words were sudden, she flinched at them despite the fact they held no intensity.

"I…uhm…"

Her eyes dropped over it and then she lowered her head.

"Sor-"

"Read it."

Her flinch cut her apology short, not helped by the sudden command from him. Once more, it was words without weight behind them. She would have said it sounded like a polite request from anyone else, but this just sounded strange. There were no words for what she could say his orders sounded like.

Just…natural.

The tanned arm dropped forwards and a single finger was placed atop the parchment, in a fluid motion it was pushed towards her until it was right beneath her eyes.

"Read it for me."

Marianne tried to swallow her unease, though it lingered like a weight in the back of her throat, clogging up her words and preventing her from saying anything for a few moments.

But she spoke all the same.

"Wyverns attacking. At least one Demonic Beast present. Current numbers vary. Send healers and soldiers."

That was it.

It had been the shortest she could think to write down and while Goetia had been very thorough with the scenario, there was just too little room on the parchment for her to get all the details down, at least when she considered the size of her smallest handwriting. She had even avoided using cursive purely so it was easier to read.

Though if she had made a mistake then she was fine to redo it all.

"Is this acceptable?"

He asked again, she could not place his tone. Though his words did not sound to be accusing or judgemental, there was no denying that they clearly were. Why else would he be asking the question with such an intensity and to have her secluded by herself? She was sure that was what it was.

"I…uhm…" Marianne swallowed the lump in her throat and found the words to speak, reaching out towards the parchment as she did so. "I can…do it again-"

His hand placed itself over the paper before she could get close enough.

"That was not the question I asked."

She flinched and kept her eyes down.

"It…"

She couldn't answer, she just continued to look at the table and focus on the back of his hand which covered the offending item.

There was no answer that she could think of.

At least, not one that made sense to her.

Her mind worked furiously to try and understand where she might have gone wrong and yet she could think of nothing. However, there was clearly something that had gone wrong for this situation to emerge and that was what pained her. Even if she could do this all over again, she was not sure what she would do differently.

"I'm sorry…" She whispered quietly. "I'll…do better next-"

"Marianne."

There was something different about his voice this time.

Quiet, but still firm.

Perhaps more than before and it was almost hypnotic, as though there was a phantom pull against her neck and an invisible hold rest on her chin. Very slowly, she raised her head up until she was looking right into his eyes. They fixed themselves solely upon her own with a piercing intensity to them.

Like he could see right through her.

"Do you believe this is acceptable?"

Once again.

"I…don't know…"

It was a rush answer that just spilled out of her and the moment she said it, she just felt the desire to shrink inwards.

She didn't know what he was asking of her.

Professor Goetia just stared.

Then his expression twitched for barely a moment, his eyes broke away from her own for no more than a second before they returned towards her. He remained silent.

Drawing his arm back to his side, he stepped away from her desk and turned around.

The bird jumped down and waddled across the table towards the parchment and snatched it up once again, turning around and spreading out its wings and throwing itself across the classroom and towards the main desk.

"...You may go."

She straightened at the words and took a step away from her desk, pausing for a moment and looking back towards the Professor. Though he was still looking away from her which meant all she could see was his golden hair.

But she would take it for what it was.

Turning around, she started on her way out the door.

"Marianne."

And then stopped as he called out to her.

But she was barely halfway turned about when he continued.

"It was acceptable."

She forced down a blink of surprise and instead nodded her head slowly, rather confused but somewhat grateful that she hadn't caused any trouble for him. Yet all the same she was left bewildered as to what the point of the entire experience was. It felt as though it had been some sort of test for her.

With a quick shake of the head, she banished the thoughts away and walked out of the classroom.

Human nostalgia.

An emotion he grew more accustomed too as the months went past.

He understood the definition of the emotion and he understood what it represented.

And he also understood the desire to vomit.

He had turned away from Marianne and moved to his desk purely so he could hide away that expression, so that he did not reveal such unsightly weakness towards the girl.

It had been a split second whim.

Nothing more than that.

He would not even call it curiosity as much as he would call it a reflex at best, an action no different than breathing consciously because he saw another do it and the thought sprung to his mind. There had been no intention to do that.

Goetia had been wrong.

Marianne was not like Bernadetta.

She was worse.

Unspeakably ugly.

Her entire thought process, her mental state, all of it.

Ugly.

Ugly.

Ugly.

Ugly-!

A twitch shot through his body like an electrical current and he leaned forwards, resting his hand on the desk for support and standing there in silence. His throat clenched and he forced down the weight which had been rising up through his gullet. It burned on the way back down and he felt a tremor spread across his lips as something deeply unpleasant nestled its way into his chest.

It was not the first time he had felt such emotions.

That alone was not the cause of this sense of disgust or revilement.

Such things were expected in humans and he was more shocked it had taken him as long until he recognised them. For even as disgusting as he found Bernadetta's emotional state to be, hers was nothing more than exaggerated fear and self-doubt.

It was curable with time and effort.

The more she accomplished, the more she would learn to let go.

The anxiety would fade with careful time and he knew she would grow from the seeds he had sown.

It was fine.

It was acceptable.

Though he would admit impatience for her to change immediately, he was not blind to the fact that it would take time for one such as her to transition from one state of emotions to another and even then, he was not wholly convinced that she would lose such an intrinsic part of her personality completely.

No, he could not perceive her as becoming as outgoing as Dorothea.

He did not suffer blind optimism.

But all the same, he was sure she would improve.

Yet Marianne…

His eyes drifted down and he stared at the hand he used to support himself against the desk, his eyes flickered over the scars on his arm. The marks which spoke to him now through itches and whispers.

Thoughts and feelings imagined with such clarity that he could hear them now.

He knew what they would say and what they would think.

How ugly the girl was.

Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly. Ugly-!

Another twitch, his hand curled into a fist and he peeled his lips back for a moment.

It was a spike of annoyance at how quickly he had lost himself.

But no, that was truly not the problem.

Marianne was not unique in these feelings.

These feelings of worthlessness, self-doubt, self-hatred and despair.

She was not the first he had ever seen and he doubted she was the only one in Fodlan he had met to hold such feelings, but she was the first in Fodlan he had directly linked with. The first he had utilised his empathy with.

And he was revolted at both of them.

…Because for one single fleeting moment.

…He felt nostalgic.

It was that realisation that had made him snap the condition short and turn about, dismissing the girl and leaving things as they were. He did not even stop to consider that his questioning might have been the cause of the elevated levels but it had been no more than a whim to try and make her see her work was not worthless.

That she needed only more confidence in her abilities.

That was all he initially believed it to be.

…And then it just happened.

A slow breath crept through his lungs as he pushed himself up.

He was aware of what he needed to do.

He needed to get rid of that ugliness.

Goetia was unsure if he could even stand to look at the girl with the knowledge of what she had just made him do, what she had just made him feel.

That for one single moment she had made him feel something other than revulsion for the bile that was human depression.

And yet…

His eyes narrowed as his mind came into greater clarity.

…Why was she allowed to exist like this?

Who allowed this?

Who had given her permission that she could walk around with such emotions? What careless actions had transpired that she could…

Goetia clicked his tongue and shook his head, he turned around and snapped his fingers.

The weight of Flauros settled on his shoulders in the next moment as he strode out of the classroom and made a sharp turn. He was sure that she would still be present in her own class, their lessons all ended at the same time, and he was curious as to how she would go about such issues.

…If only because he had no experience in righting them.

His previous attempt to remove such unsightly feelings was…extreme.

And he doubted he could just erase her personality and rebuild it from the foundation up.

…No, that was false.

He could do that if he wished to and yet he doubted it would solve the ultimate problem and he would be none the wiser as to how to naturally solve it.

Yet the admission of that felt…demeaning.

He stopped and frowned.

Moving his hand to seek out Flauros, he dragged his fingers along the back of their head and remained silent as he fell into deep thought.

All this time and his knowledge amounted to nothing when it truly mattered.

No closer to his goal.

He felt disgusted.

Such wasted efforts.

He kept walking.

"Another successful lesson."

Byleth spared Sothis a glance as she looked back to the papers, it was difficult to tell whether the Goddess was being honest or sarcastic.

She knew that Sothis cared little for this sort of thing.

But she would agree with the words all the same, this lesson was indeed rather fruitful for the development of her class and already looking through the battle strategies they had come up with, she was marginally impressed with some of the ideas that they had come up with.

Dedue went for a simple approach of just encircling and moving in.

A tried and tested method which had proven itself effective in the past, she would hold nothing against him for that and the placement of his cavalry and the calling time for them was certainly worth some additional marks.

Dimitri's was much the same.

She supposed their closeness explained the similarities in their battle tactics, or Dedue had learned his plan from the Prince.

Whatever the case, it was fine.

This wasn't about being creative, it was about finding a solution that worked for the given scenario.

The next thing they needed to do would be to put these into practice for some trials.

"Hmmm? Oh, good morning Goetia."

Byleth brought her head up and turned around at the words of Sothis and sure enough she could see him just sort of lingering in the very corner of the door. It was odd to see him stand there and she felt as though there was something oddly familiar about that vacant expression on his face, the detached nature of it all.

…She didn't like it all that much.

It meant he wasn't focused and if he wasn't focused then he could be attacked and taken out easier than normal.

Goetia with a more focused mind was better.

"Hello."

She greeted, nodding her head at the same time.

Their combined words seemed to spur some reaction from him, a slow blink and then a muffled grunt which sounded something like a reply but she couldn't quite make it out. He paced into the classroom and stopped beside one of the seats, turning his eyes down towards it and raising a brow.

"Flayn."

He commented rather suddenly.

It took her a moment to realise that he was looking exactly where Flayn had sat, though quite how he was aware of that was something that she wasn't entirely sure of. But she just wrote it off as more of his magic.

An excuse which she found was covering a vast array of happenings.

"Yes."

Goetia nodded slowly. "...How competent?"

"Better at healing." Byleth replied with a shrug of the shoulders, "But has some good ideas in strategy as well. Surprised but not all that much. She said she did a lot of reading because of you."

The response was less than enthused.

He just grunted and nodded his head speaking after a moment of silence. "Seteth will be satisfied then."

She assumed so.

But she doubted that Goetia came here to talk about Flayn.

"Do you need help with something?"

"...Of that I am unsure."

Byleth felt a brief jolt shoot through her internally at the admission. It was just the outward and rather quick response which had her surprised by it all. She wouldn't normally have expected Goetia to come right out and say something like that, but she didn't find herself disliking it.

It was smart.

Only idiots kept on pushing when they weren't good enough.

Leaning backwards, she rested her hands on the desk behind herself and perched on the edge of the table, watching him before nodding her head forwards ever so slightly in ascent for him to speak.

Goetia glanced from the desk and towards her, then stalked forwards with a curious slowness in his steps.

"How involved do you become in the personal lives of your students?"

"Some of them invite me to tea."

He stopped walking.

"They do that to you as well?"

"As well?"

Goetia got invited to tea?

She tried to picture the image.

It was a curious thing.

Hardly as though she had any thoughts on it, but if that was the sort of thing that Goetia preferred then it would have made sense to her. He seemed to have a low opinion on taverns and when they went to one he didn't seem to want to speak of all that much during it. Not until prompted.

She shook her head and cleared away the thought.

"Nevermind." Thinning her lips, she stared at him. "Depends on what they need. I ask about them if I think they are having problems but I don't push them all that much."

Just in case she made a mistake.

She found it a little hard sometimes to understand certain things, it wasn't like there was much she could empathise with in regards to the students.

Not like other professors.

"...I see." Goetia nodded his head all the same and resumed walking, but it was of a slow pace this time around. His eyes not really focusing on her and instead looked to be aimed somewhere beyond her and Sothis. "Then you are of the opinion it is normal for a Professor to become involved in the affairs of a student if they find their situation to be unpleasant."

"Its what I would do." She did not hesitate in replying, though she wanted to ask why he suddenly brought this up, it was not hard to assume.

But she was puzzled about why he would ask her opinion about it.

"It's unlike you to ask about something."

Goetia stopped at that, turning his head towards her and silently demanding an answer. She could tell as much from the way his face hardened.

"You always do something if you are personally bothered by it rather than wait. At least, that is how it normally goes…sometimes."

She had not asked if he was doing anything about Lysithea.

It would be hard to force something like that, she figured.

But she was confident he would make the right choice with time.

"Sometimes." The word was spoken like he was tasting it, he made the movements to match as well. The rolling of his jaw and the pursuing of his lips, the slight squinting of his eyes before his expression evened out. "Hmmm. I will admit that I have little experience in this manner of…"

He stopped and frowned.

"...I was unable to do anything about it in the past and when I made the attempt it was not the correct choice."

He tilted his head.

"...I am left to wonder if I shall attempt to right this problem and only make it worse, offering a solution that was unasked and wholly unwanted by the individual."

Oh, now she got it.

It was basically what she figured it would be and yet to hear Goetia make such admissions was a bit…

Nice.

Not in a vindictive way but it felt rather human to her.

Moments like these made her forget that he wasn't human.

"I think that is just a risk you take when you try to help someone."

His face flattened at that, rather unimpressed it seemed. "Is that truly the extent of your advice? Simply act and hope for the best?"

"Yes. That is all there is to it." Despite saying that, she did stop for a moment to consider something else before continuing on. "Don't do what you did last time if you know that it doesn't work."

Goetia made a noise that very nearly had her blink in surprise.

It was something between a cough and a laugh, as though he wasn't quite sure which of the two he was supposed to make.

The noise rumbled away for a few seconds and then started to fade, his shoulders dropped and his eyes turned from hers. His expression was drawn thinner than before and almost resigned.

"Yes. I suppose that much should have been obvious. Hmph. Do not do as I did last time and fumble my way through until I find a solution. Not a course of action I would have ever considered and yet…"

He trailed off, looking back to her and then straightening.

"...You may return to whatever you were previously working on before I interrupted you. The advice has been…noted."

"You're welcome." Byleth replied, managing to hear the 'thank you' between the lines of his sentence.

He just stared at her for a moment and then turned to walk away.

"Do you want to have tea at some point?"

"If you wish."

And like that he was gone.

Byleth tilted her head slowly to one side and stared at the empty spot, then shifted her gaze towards where Sothis hovered and noted the bemused look on the face of the Goddess.

"He agreed much faster this time, did he not?"

He did.

Maybe he really didn't like going to the taverns.

"...What sort of tea do you think he likes?"

Sothis pinched her brows and then cupped her chin, a thoughtful look flickering over her face before giving a long and melodious hum. "He seems the sort to enjoy sweet things, even if he shall not admit it. Yes. I have come to the conclusion that Goetia does indeed have a sweet tooth."

A sweet tooth?

…She could see it.

"What do you know of Marianne?"

Claude did not immediately respond to his question, on account of being midway through his lunch, but he eventually swallowed the mouthful of bread and then blinked twice. Reaching up and scratching the side of his cheek in an idle motion.

"Marianne? She's Margrave Edmund's daughter."

Goetia waited for more.

He was met with silence.

His lip started to curl.

Claude held up a hand briefly and waved it down, picking up on his clear disappointment in the failure of an answer.

"I'm being honest when I say that's mostly what everyone knows about her. Even Hilda, who hangs around her most, probably can't tell you all that much. She's a quiet sort who doesn't really interact or speak all that often."

The boy shuffled and leaned forwards.

"She does good work, always enough to get by, and I doubt she enjoys having too much attention to be honest. The sort to blend into the background if you catch my meaning."

That was certainly more but it was still so little.

"...Hilda is her friend?"

Claude remained silent for a few seconds before he slowly nodded his head. "I'd say that's probably the case. Hilda would argue as such if you asked her. As for me? I've tried to speak with her but I can always tell she's not one for my sort of conversation topics."

"Your personality is an acquired taste, I should think."

Snorting, the student rolled his eyes and sported a grin across his lips. "Yeah, something like that. Though I will say that she's probably at her best when around the animals. It's hard to tell but I can see the way her eyes light up when she's assigned stable duties for the horses."

Goetia had already assumed as much, but it remained a welcome confirmation.

Yes, he recalled the horse that he rode upon.

Ilse.

"And her interactions with other classmates?"

Claude went silent for a moment, then ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"You've met the Golden Deers, they have rather strong personalities for the most part. Even Ignatz can be really passionate about the things he likes. You've never seen a guy talk about painting so much before until you let a comment slip and suddenly he's explaining everything to you."

Ah, yes.

The Golden Deer were dominant personalities in their own rights and Marianne decidedly was not.

Likely intimidated by all of them which had crushed whatever feeble hope there had ever been of reaching out to bond with them.

He suspected that it was more a case of Hilda forcing interactions with Marianne and the latter being too intimidated to refuse.

But he knew where else to ask now.

Yet the image it was setting was unpleasant to him.

"Your information has been useful."

"Yeah." Claude nodded back, "Sparkles?"

Goetia closed his eyes and looked down at the boy with a raised brow. He did not want to dignify the nickname in any capacity but he did not much care at this point.

"...Thanks for asking about her."

He blinked slowly. "...I have done nothing worth thanking yet." a frown then came to him. "And if you were so concerned, you would have helped her yourself."

The boy did not reject the accusation, instead he nodded his head. "Yeah. Best I could do was just aim Hilda at her but…guess it didn't work out as I hoped. Just not sure where I could start helping her was all. My usual brand of personality didn't seem to be all that much help, you know?"

Hmmm, perhaps that was the case.

"...This is not you pawning off responsibility to me, is it?"

With a snort and another shake of the head, the boy pointed to him. "Now when have I ever backed down from a challenge, Sparkles? I'll get her to open up."

"...Hmph."

"She's surprisingly clumsy."

That was not what he was expecting her to say.

"Excuse me?"

"Marianne." Hilda repeated as she brushed against her fingernails with the paint mixture, her complete focus upon it. "She was really passionate about trying to help out though so I thought I could leave it all to-"

She cut herself short and fell silent, slowly glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

Goetia stared down at her. "...We can discuss your negligent antics another time."

And they would certainly be doing that.

Wincing, the girl nodded her head and glanced back to her nails. "But I ended up doing all of the work myself by the end of it. We were sorting the library books by the way, I guess she never did it before but it was nice. I didn't actually mind doing all of the work. She just had that feeling about her. I could tell she felt bad about it so I didn't mind."

He hummed. "And her introverted nature?"

Calling it that felt wrong.

It was right but it was wrong.

Marianne was not just an introvert, she was more than that.

Hilda shrugged. "She's a bit shy and quiet at times but I helped her out with the horses once."

The girl paused and turned to him with a bright smile. "She is so sweet when she's with them. Especially that horse she always takes care of…dorris?"

"Dorte."

"That's the one." She blinked at him. "Wow, you've really done your research on her?"

"No, I just remember it from when we went to the village plagued with Demonic Beasts."

A slower blink. "...That was months ago."

"Only months." He frowned. "As though I could forget something in such a fleeting span of time."

"...Huh." Hilda looked at him oddly for a couple seconds, then shook her head. "But yeah. That's Marianne. A really quiet girl but she's very sweet on the inside and I think it's just getting her in the right place to show it. So that's why she doesn't talk all that much in lessons in case you were worried about her."

He was.

With good reason.

Her mind revolted him.

"I will take this under consideration." Turning, he made for the door.

And consider it he would.

There was much that he could do with the girl if he was to try and cure her of this behavioural affliction that she had contracted.

But he needed to be slow.

Cautious.

As with Bernadetta it would take some slow steps to try and convince her that he was doing this for her own good and not because he was some malicious entity who found her annoying.

…He just found her emotions vexing, her personality would improve with time.

Yes.

Time.

This time he would get it right.

Animals.

The girl had a connection with animals.

That was the foundation where he could build upon.

His hands drifted to Flauros and allowed the finch to settle on his finger, bringing it about to the front and staring at them for a few seconds.

Tilting their head, Flauros looked back inquisitively.

Whether they realised it or not, the small bird would live up to its namesakes task.

And become the pillar for an emotionally wounded girl.

…The outcome would be different this time.