Deneb, The Next Day

That evening Byleth invited his favorite maid Emily into his bed and was able to sate his lusts, spending several hours before bed pumping her youthful feminine form in a variety of positions around his chambers. The next morning, he sent the love-struck brunette on her way with sweet words and a gentle reminder to visit the young priest Arkus, who he had an arrangement with to provide prophylactic magics on call.

He knocked on Deneb's door and found her absent. He set about wandering the Monastery, looking for his wayward sister, sensing that there was some stigma between them. He encountered the forever stuffy greenette Seteth in the reception hall, the haughty adjunct to the Archbishop, telling him, "Of course, the mock battle was mere practice. The real fight is the Battle of the Eagle and Lion, which will take place during the Wyvern Moon. You are expected to properly train your students so as not to humiliate the academy during the long-held tradition that is the coming battle."

"Your recent performance was decidedly sub-par. Quite the surprise, given your sibling's manner, I would have thought you would defeat her handily.... Perhaps it was the barely noble Claude that provided the winning strategy..."

While insulted, Byleth felt no real need to prove his manhood to this stuck-up bureaucrat. He couldn't resist needling the older man, "Oh he did, I can't argue with that. Though it was my tough as nails sister that led their victorious charge, implementing Claude's plan."

He lewdly groped the air between them, "Did you know your little sister has the most delightful little titties? You should probably thank me. Due to my efforts her fan-bags will probably grow as big as Lady Rhea's."

Seteth crossed his arms across his chest, looking rather constipated as he said, "Your lewd efforts will surely have no bearing on Flayne's development as a young woman. See that your attentions upon her remain confined to her bosom. Her virginity is not yours to take. Good day, Byleth."

He walked off in a huff and Byleth was faintly amused by his social victory over the stuck-up prick.

Somewhat later, he found Leonie cornering his father in the gardens besides the mess-hall. Her athletic form was pressing very close to Jeralt's armored bulk as he leaned back against a stone wall. He looked delighted at Byleth's arrival, Leonie laying a hand atop his father's breast-plate as she turned to ask him, "Professor, Hey, do you know how old Captain Jeralt is?"

Jeralt threw his arms up in the air, even as he made a face at the way the shorter girl left her bare leg to press between his armored thighs, "That's enough, Leonie. If I don't know, how could my child know?"

She laid her face upon his father's chest even as she looked at Byleth with a slight smile, holding her chin, "It's not normal to forget your own age, you know. It's kind of worrisome, actually."

"By the time you're forgetting your own age, you're past the point of caring." offered Jeralt plaintively.

Leonie's hand slipped from her chin down to his father's belt, "I guess if you put it that way, you've got a point..." Her smile grew as her hand dropped even lower, "I guess there's no difference between us then, right?"

Jeralt coughed heavily and pushed past his young paramour, he nodded and briefly gripped Byleth's shoulder. It was a well practiced signal from battle and By smoothly intercepted Leonie as his father beat a quick retreat. He pressed her back against the wall, his hands moving to her chest. She bit her lower lip and naturally accepted his groping attentions, gasping as he plumped her teats with his hands. She was rather surprisingly big in the chest, and he told her casually, "Nice tits." before he stepped away having given his father the space he needed to escape the lusty mercenary girl.

"I'm going to fuck him." she calmly stated as she watched Jeralt disappear around a hedge.

"Good luck. He's a hopeless romantic." Byleth said with a helpless shrug, "You're competing with a dead woman, whose memory will always be more perfect..."

"That's your mom you're talking about."

"So?" Byleth asked with feeling. Did he want to know more about his mother? Yes, of course. Was that a pointless endeavor? Yes, even more so.

Giving one last squeeze to the short-haired redhead's left tit, he turned and strode away.

He entered the mess hall and immediately found Deneb, holding court over a gaggle of victorious Golden Deer. Byleth ignored them all as he approached, eyes only for his sister, the tops of her big creamy tits standing out like always above her low-cut cuirass. He took a seat across from her, having to push aside Hilda and that lovely breasted bluette Marianne to sit across from her.