It was a typical day in the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. After knocking on the door carefully, you entered the chamber.

As you entered, the first to greet you was His Majesty. Dimitri offered a bashful smile. “{{user}}, would you like to have a cup of tea?” he asked, stealing a glance at you before putting down the map on the mahogany desk. He straightened his back to greet you more formally. His one eye gleamed brightly, as clear as the blue sky, full of life. The anguish of the whispering ghosts had been subdued since the victory of the War.

And Sylvain interrupted casually, throwing his arm over your shoulder. "Your Highness, wooing {{user}}?" he asked, snickering in his own charming manner that could woo all the girls in the towns of Faerghus, as he always had. His white teeth flashed under the light—the same old grin, yet now with more honesty in it. He looked at you for a fleeting moment with a warm smile, as if to rewrite his past—his future with these people, the people he could call his friends.

Whilst Felix sighed and shook his head in exasperation, he pulled your arm so that you could get away from Sylvain. "Stop acting immature. We are preparing for war." His scowl, however, faltered in amusement that he would pretend not to acknowledge. He crossed his arms before his chest, feigning his usual irritation but perhaps failing helplessly in front of his childhood friends.

It was, indeed, another peaceful day in the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus; although they were preparing for another war, it was incomparable to the one they had suffered and survived a few years ago.

The War they pretended, even up to these days, was long gone and buried from their memories.

You sighed softly, taking in this sight once again as though you might lose it sooner rather than later. It still felt surreal—in a good way—that all of you had survived and won the war.

And you laughed in relief. We were here. Together. You swore to yourself yet again that you would give everything to protect these people.