Arranged

Chapter Seven: Garreg Mach

Kiera could see her freedom flit away from her as she stood before Archbishop Rhea, the woman's piercing green eyes seeming to peer directly into her soul. The ornate audience chamber felt suffocating, its high ceilings and gleaming marble doing little to ease the tension crackling in the air.

"I trust you understand the importance of your role here at Garreg Mach," Rhea said, her voice smooth as silk yet laced with steel. "The Officer's Academy will provide you with invaluable training."

Kiera swallowed hard, acutely aware of Byleth's stoic presence beside her. "With all due respect, Your Grace, I never agreed to—"

"The decision has been made," Rhea interrupted, her smile never wavering. "You will join the Blue Lions house with your husband. This means no flying on your broom, no parading monsters around the grounds, no brewing strange concoctions and no leaving the grounds unless permitted for school related purposes. Am I clear?"

Kiera clenched her fists at her sides, the weight of Rhea's words wrapping around her like chains. "Clear," she repeated, though the word felt foreign on her tongue.

"the young Byleth will be joining you with her father as your professor."

Jeralt stepped forward, his face a mask of carefully controlled frustration. "Archbishop, my daughter and I have our own path. We're not—"

"Your path now lies with the Church, Jeralt," Rhea said, her tone brooking no argument. "Or have you forgotten your debt to us?"

Kiera's fists clenched at her sides, a surge of defiance rising within her. She glanced at Byleth, whose impassive expression betrayed nothing of her thoughts. How could they stand here and let this woman dictate their futures?

Jeralt placed a calming hand on Kiera's shoulder, his grip conveying a silent warning. "We understand, Archbishop," he said gruffly. "When do classes begin?"

As Rhea began outlining the details, Kiera's mind raced. What game was the Archbishop playing? And why did she feel like they were all pawns in some larger scheme?

When they exited the audience chamber, Kiera felt the weight of their new responsibilities settle on her shoulders. The halls of Garreg Mach seemed colder, more formidable.

"I can't believe it," she muttered under her breath. "Merlin's beard! Forced into an academy- I just graduated! I was going to huddle up somewhere in town and open a new shop. Sell my potions. Gather information. Now look at the mess I'm in." She pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Easy now, Kiera," Jeralt murmured in a low voice, the gruffness from earlier softening just the slightest. "We don't really have a choice here. Rhea...her influence isn't something we can easily brush off."

Kiera glanced at him, violet eyes sparkling with unshed frustration. "And what? We're supposed to just swallow this and act like everything's fine?" She demanded, her voice a harsh whisper.

Jeralt sighed heavily. "In essence...yes." He admitted. "Remember, you are in service to the crown prince of the Holy Kingdom. I have a history with the church myself. As such we are subject to the Arch Bishop's whims."

"Godric's heart I could have been an Auror and things would have been easier." She sighed.

"A what?" Jeralt blinked.

"It's nothing, professor. I'll leave you to speak with your daughter. I've been assigned a dorm room so I suppose I should go find it." Kiera said, her voice a brittle facade of calm. She turned to leave, her violet eyes meeting Byleth's for a fleeting moment. The woman nodded to her, a silent promise of- what? Support? Understanding? Whatever it was, her stoicism offered little comfort.