I'll protect you.

     ⊰♠⊱—”Ehm . . . Keaton, may I ask you something?”

    She didn’t want to blame Keaton for something like this, but any other culprit was not likely. Corrin held the evidence behind her back: the remains of a slipper torn to shreds. The owner was still a mystery and it pained Corrin to know that there was someone in camp with only one perfectly usable slipper.

    She recalled the short slot of time in which Shigure was nothing more than an infant bearing a comical plume of blue hair. Corrin recalled feeling elated to meet Azura’s son and felt only a slight tinge of maternal instinct kick in when he was placed in her arms. It was much more difficult to hold Shigure now that he was grown—not impossible, but it would be a feat—but her feelings towards him did not waver. Azura was his mother, of course, but that didn’t stop her from doting on him like the self-proclaimed godmother she was.

    An hour-long search for Takumi’s retainer proved fruitful.Tonight would be one of the dozens of Hoshidan festivals held throughout the year, but the first ever that Corrin would attend. Her sisters had been kind enough to gift a kimono to her, but her Nohrian-raised sense of fashion handicapped her ability to wear it correctly. Oboro, she assumed, would be more than able to assist her.

    ⊰♠⊱—”Oboro, may I ask a favor of you? It has to do with a kimono.”

    Niles was by no means intimidating. On the contrary, in spite of his reputation, he was actually quite affable. So why was it that Corrin was feeling apprehensive about this? Perhaps she feared the barrage of comments that would spur from her statement and the rosy flush decorating her cheeks, but if that was the worst of it then maybe that was a risk she was willing to take for her—dare she say it—friend. To not tell him would be an act of betrayal! Any friend would let their friend know that . . . well . . .