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“I s’ull canmph beleef ya dumph-” Ingrid remarked, the loaf of bread she had chosen to chew in the meantime falling down her throat sideways and putting a stop to any more talking. Edelgard rolled her eyes, before thumping her on the back until the choking stopped. Ingrid pushed the errant morsel back down her throat, properly chewing this time, and didn’t finish her thought until she had done so.
“I still can’t believe you did this for Galatea, Empress,” Ingrid said.
“You’ve always had a look of familiarity about hunger. If that’s the environment you grew up in with a supportive father, the plight of your people had to have been even worse. We may not have much of a surplus, but it’s the least we can do after… well…” Edelgard said. Ingrid’s next bite from her food looked a little more forlorn, as Edelgard offered a comforting hand. Once Ingrid finished her bite, she refused it.
“Hey! Hey, it’s Lady Ingrid!” a voice shouted. Edelgard jumped, looking around with some magic in her hand. Ingrid pointed out the speaker- a woman not much younger than either of them in a homespun dress that was halfway to being more patch than cloth. Edelgard nodded, and allowed the magic to dissipate, focusing on containing her fear.
“Hello there, um… you’re from Galatea, I’d suppose?” Ingrid asked.
“Yep! There were massive mountains of stone running around shooting thunderbolts, our house was one of the many that got zapped. I came here with my sisters in hopes Count Galatea was issuing aid, but it looks like those Adrestians got to him first. Lucky you haven’t suffered the same fate, though!” the woman exclaimed. Ingrid turned to Edelgard, whose hands had bluntly reached for her hair to check if she was wearing her buns.
“Ooh, is this your bodyguard, Lady Ingrid? So are the rumours true, then, that you aren’t into men? I’m not judging, if that’s the sort of lady you want to hang around,” the woman asked.
“Oh, um… that’s…” Ingrid stammered, hoping Edelgard had a counterargument. The rumours that she wasn’t into men were true, but she wasn’t into women either.
“Don’t worry, milady. We don’t blame you for conscripting some extra arms to go against Adrestia. Count Galatea would never have dreamed of it had he any other option. He was always around to help with the ploughing and the planting, he cared for all of us. Not nearly as much as he cared about you, though, but still quite a lot. He opened his heart for each and every one of us,” the woman said.
“...I can certainly remember that much,” Ingrid agreed, thinking of how frequently her father would leave her alone around the keep with ditzy maids and sexist soldiers who thought she should hang around the former. The rich, yet meagre dinners he regularly provided hadn’t made up for that to her younger mind.
“Those heretic Adrestians are to blame! If they hadn’t raised their swords against the church, none of this blasted fighting would’ve ever happened! We’d still have Count Galatea to protect us! Those mountains were probably their doing, too!” the woman cried out.
“Now wait a moment-” Edelgard began, only to be cut off by a child calling out for her sister Sofia. The resemblance was clear from the chestnut hair and the patch-covered dresses.
“Sister, I’m hungry!” the child begged.
“You’re going to be all right, Eliza. I’ll rustle up some food somehow,” Sofia said.
“The soldier with the funny yellow armour over there gave me this. Can I eat it?” Eliza asked, holding up a loaf of bread. Sofia slapped it to the ground.
“Don’t be silly! We’ll starve to death before we accept charity from Adrestians!” she yelled. Edelgard let out a gasp, but Sofia didn’t quite seem to notice over her sister’s crying.
“Milady, you must flee before the Adrestians find you! Escape, survive, and we will follow you. We will eat mud and weeds if we have to. And we’ll have our revenge on those bloodthirsty Adrestians. And if we don’t, then our children will. Or their grandchildren will. Promise me, milady, that you’ll survive to bear Count Galatea’s legacy,” Sofia exclaimed. Ingrid hurriedly babbled out a promise, watching the pair leave, before scooping up the bread from the ground, dusting away crumbs, dirt, and more than a few ants. She spared only a brief glance at Edelgard’s disturbed expression before taking a bite out of it.
“Iff Murrss’s ‘oo’ee,” Ingrid joked. Edelgard could only ponder how deep the hatred of Adrestia ran in the blood of Faerghus that two girls who hadn’t even been directly wronged would refuse their food after a history of famine and a promise of worse starvation to come.
“...I’d have been blamed for not handing out food too, right?” Edelgard asked. Ingrid nodded, taking another bite of Sophie’s abandoned bread roll with a look of trepidation on her face.
“Will the people of Faerghus ever recover from this? Their king has dragged them into this war, and I’m sure Sophie will refuse any sort of charity like free education or the reconstruction of her village if it’s Adrestians doing the legwork,” Edelgard asked.
“That’s a matter for the future… but if it’ll work, I’m sure we can use my face to let them rally around. Apparently, they don’t know I defected,” Ingrid said.
“Thanks for the offer, Ingrid. I’m afraid we’ll have to take you up on that, as much as you might like to be a knight,” Edelgard sighed. Ingrid gave her a pat on the shoulder with her bread free hand.
“Don’t worry, charging mindlessly into battle on some noble’s say so isn’t my ambition anymore. I’m here to help you remove the yoke of Seiros’s divine grasp on our kingdom, but I’d rather help these people adapt to your policies than go out and enforce them,” Ingrid said.
“I’m glad to have followers like you,” Edelgard assured her.