Chapter Text
Ferdinand walked down the 2nd floor dorm hallway and sighed. The afternoon sunlight was blinding from the hallway windows, and a stray cat had wandered in. He’d missed class that day, and needed to obtain lecture notes from someone else. He’d exhausted every other option, and was left with no choice: he’d have to get notes from Hubert.
He stopped in front of Hubert’s door. Even though he walked passed the room at least twice a day on the way to his own, he’d become used to ignoring it altogether.
Ferdinand wondered what sorts of horrors Hubert kept in his room. Did the inside look like a gothic, haunted mansion or more like a taboo witchcraft hut? Or something worse? Maybe it was barren, except for a single chair in the center, where he tortured captives.
“Do you think he sleeps in a coffin?” Bernadetta had supposed once during a meal. Ferdinand, Bernadetta, and Caspar looked two tables over and found Hubert and Edelgard deep in conversation and pouring over a notebook. Ferdinand hadn’t been sure if they were doing homework or plotting something.
“No way, the guy’s still human, you know?” Caspar had responded. “I bet he just sleeps in a regular bed.”
Hubert had looked up, making Bernadetta shriek and curl up in her seat. But Ferdinand stayed on Hubert’s gaze awhile, trying to determine if he’d overheard them. Hubert then sneered, then looked back to his notebook, which didn’t clear up anything.
“Vampires still look like humans. Maybe he’s half-vampire?” Bernadetta had offered. Caspar had laughed.
“Nah, Hubert’s not that scary. Right, Ferdinand?”
At the time, Ferdinand had agreed. Hubert was difficult to pin down, and he seemed to live in the macabre, but he was human like anyone else.
Now, standing at his door, about to undergo the mortifying ordeal of asking him for a favor, Ferdinand wasn’t so sure.
Maybe he could get his lecture notes from someone else. Hubert took the second best notes in the class, but he still had other classmates. Though, the best person other than Hubert or himself was Edelgard, and Ferdinand couldn’t stoop to admitting she’d been a better student than he was. Maybe he could try and decipher Petra’s notes, or sift through Dorothea’s doodles, or maybe he could take up the professor’s time?
Ferdinand sighed. There was no choice; he was going to have to enter Hubert’s room. He took a deep breath, and knocked.
Hubert answered swiftly, eyes widening upon seeing his visitor. “Ferdinand?”
“I loathe to disturb you, but…I was under the weather this morning, and was not able to attend the lecture. Do you think it possible that I could,” he braced himself, “borrow your notes?”
Hubert’s eyes widened again, and he blinked. Then he smirked. “The haughty Ferdinand von Aegir, stooping to me for a favor?”
Ferdinand grit his teeth. “Yes, I know. I do not like it any more than you do.”
Hubert cackled, and Ferdinand felt heat rise to his cheeks. Once this part was over, he’d have the notes and he wouldn’t need to speak to Hubert ever again. He just hoped he could live through it.
“Why me?” Hubert asked, crossing his arms. He was still blocking the doorway, so Ferdinand couldn’t see inside or force himself inside if he wanted to.
Ferdinand tensed, feeling more and more uncomfortable as the seconds went on. “Well, you see, other than myself, you, ah…take the best notes in the class.”
“A compliment? Are you certain you’re over your illness?”
Ferdinand sighed. “Please?”
Hubert stared at him a while longer, gaze scrutinizing. Finally, he relented. “Very well, come in,” he said, opening the door. Hubert turned and Ferdinand followed behind.
Astonishingly, the room was completely normal. The carpet was red, for their house, and there was a bed and a desk and several stacks of books. That was all. It looked exactly like every other room in the monastery.
“Huh, no coffin,” Ferdinand mused to himself. Maybe Caspar was right. Maybe Hubert was just a normal person with an abnormal aesthetic.
“Why would I have a coffin in my room?”
Ferdinand realized suddenly he’d said that aloud. “Uh, that is…nothing.” The temperature climbed the more he stayed in Hubert’s presence. The sooner he escaped, the better.
“My notebook’s on top of the desk,” Hubert explained, gesturing vaguely towards it. “It was a short lecture today, so I don’t imagine you’ll need to intrude for very long.” He went to his dresser and pulled out a tin of coffee. Normally, it would only be polite to offer a cup to your guest. Though Ferdinand supposed he did barge in abruptly. Besides, even if Hubert was decent enough to offer, Ferdinand wouldn’t accept.
Ferdinand saw two notebooks lying on the desk. One was a simple brown, undyed, and tied with a leather string. The other, however, was a deep forest green, and encrusted with small cuts of a black, glittering gem. A swirling vine pattern circled the edges, looping across both covers. The ornate binding was only outdone by its mysterious air.
“Which one?” Ferdinand asked. Hubert didn’t respond, so Ferdinand looked back to the notebooks. He assumed the plain one was Hubert’s class notebook. But the mysterious one called to him. He reached his fingers out towards it, brushing it, feeling the texture of the vines and the black gemstones. He opened the front cover.
“No!” Hubert cried. Ferdinand jumped. In an instant, Hubert snatched the book from Ferdinand’s grasp, letting the coffee spoon clatter to the floor.
Hubert clutched the book tight to his chest, squeezing it into his arms. Ferdinand stared at him. Hubert’s eyes were frantic, terrified. Ferdinand had never seen him so scared.
“I’m…sorry?” Ferdinand said.
Hubert coughed into his fist. “Wrong notebook. The brown one is for class.”
Curiosity piqued, Ferdinand tilted his head. “And what is that one for?”
“…Miscellaneous other things,” Hubert answered vaguely. Ferdinand crossed his arms.
“Other things? You cannot mean to tell me…” Hubert waited, breath in his throat. “That book is a journal of your secret schemes!”
Hubert sighed in what seemed suspiciously like relief. “Yes, secret schemes and plots. Most dastardly, villainous things. The contents would make you nauseous.”
“That sounds like a challenge!” Ferdinand lunged for the book. Hubert dodged frantically, narrowly avoiding Ferdinand’s hands.
“No!” he insisted. Hubert forced himself to relax. “No,” he said again, a bit more calmly. He coughed into his fist, attempting to regain his composure. “No need to see the pages.”
Ferdinand quirked an eyebrow. “You are awfully attached to that book.”
Hubert shrugged, hoping to seem disinterested. He refused to elaborate.
Ferdinand stared at him for a moment. Then he smirked triumphantly, pounding his fist into his palm. “I bet Edelgard can tell me what is inside!”
Hubert rolled his eyes. “Lady Edelgard does not know either.”
At that, Ferdinand stalled. His eyes widened as dread dripped into him. “You are keeping secrets from Edelgard?”
Hubert sighed. “It’s not like that.”
“How could you do such a thing?” he demanded. “Pages of underhanded lies that she does not know exist? What other sorts of things are you keeping from her? Just how many secrets do you have!?” Ferdinand had always assumed the two shared everything important with one another. But if Hubert was keeping plots from her, from the future emperor, the implications were unsettling. What kind of havoc would he wreak without Edelgard’s permission or knowledge? What would this do to the Empire?
“Do not begin jumping to conclusions,” Hubert said.
“I must tell her right away!” Ferdinand turned on his heel and dashed out the door.
“No, wait! Ferdinand!” Hubert raced after him, book still cradled in his arms.
Edelgard’s door was open, and she sat inside arranging a few carnations in a flower vase. She looked up at the commotion and was quite shocked to find Ferdinand and Hubert charging in.
“Can I help—”
“Hubert is keeping secrets from you!” Ferdinand shouted. “He has an entire book full of secrets!”
Hubert, a bit out of breath, kept his composure. “Forgive his rudeness at barging in, Lady Edelgard.”
Edelgard stood, eyebrows furrowed. “What’s going on?”
“I discovered a secret book Hubert has been keeping. It is full of schemes! He told me even you are unaware of its contents. Edelgard, he is lying to you!”
Edelgard quirked an eyebrow. “Do you have any proof?”
Too quick for Hubert to react, Ferdinand plucked the book from his arms. “Right here,” Ferdinand presented. Edelgard took the journal, inspecting the front and back covers. Hubert’s composure fizzled. He dare not snatch it from Edelgard’s hands.
“Please, Lady Edelgard, that book is of no concern. You need not regards its contents, I assure you emphatically.”
“If it is of no concern, then it should be safe to read,” she reasoned, opening the front cover.
“No!” Hubert screeched. Edelgard’s hand stalled. “Please, I beg of you. Do not read it.”
Edelgard caught his gaze, caught the intensity and fervor in his eyes. It was rare for Hubert to be so insistent.
Edelgard shrugged. “Very well,” she said, handing the book back to Hubert. Relief crashed over him, evident on every inch of his face.
“But Edelgard—!” Ferdinand began.
“Enough,” she said, holding up a gloved hand. “I trust Hubert. He is entitled to his privacy.” She brought her hand back down and turned her attention to Hubert. Her eyes softened a bit, as if wanting to affirm that he was alright. “Hubert, can you promise me that nothing in there is something I ought to know?”
“I swear it upon the Vestra name.” Swearing on your family’s name should never be taken lightly, Ferdinand knew. Hubert meant it. But if the book was full of contents that would make Ferdinand sick, surely they were something Edelgard ought to know? Was Hubert lying or not? Was he capable of lying to Edelgard? He had a whole book of secrets he kept from her, how different could lying to her face be?
“There you have it,” she confirmed, wrapping a bow on the conversation. “Now if the both of you troublemakers are quite done, I have some business to take care of.” She ushered them out, and closed the door behind them.
They stood in the hallway for a bit, uneasy. Ferdinand was frustrated by the whole situation. For one, for being lumped into the ‘troublemaker’ category at all, particularly by his greatest rival. Secondly, for being lumped into the category along with Hubert, his second greatest rival. And thirdly, for being all but dismissed out of hand despite having a legitimate concern for the Empire’s welfare.
“Satisfied?” Hubert sneered. Ferdinand looked up at him, meeting his piercing glare with a glare of his own.
“Forgive me for caring for the welfare of our nation. I did not realize that low bar was beyond your capabilities.”
Hubert took a step closer, crowding him, looming over him. His hair swallowed the afternoon sun, his exposed eye gleamed in it. Hubert breathed out slowly through his nose, the air grazing across Ferdinand’s face. In the crook of the doorway just outside of Edelgard’s room, the paltry empty space between them was electrified with hatred.
“Every breath I take, every thought I possess, every palpitation in my very heart, is for the empire Lady Edelgard will create. You will do well to remember that.”
Ferdinand swallowed. “Even keeping a journal full of secrets?” He tilted his head up, closer, his glare tighter than the grip he kept on his lance.
Ferdinand’s insolence would not stand. “Even kill you, if I must,” Hubert hissed. They were so close that Ferdinand could smell hints of Hubert’s morning coffee on his breath. “I’ve four knives that I could reach before you even blinked. I would strike you right here—”
He took his pointer and middle finger and pressed them against Ferdinand’s chest, pressing into the empty space between his ribs. Ferdinand sucked in a breath.
“You would suffer immeasurable pain before bleeding out, your wails would fill the monastery halls for hours, as healers would pour everything they had into a wound that would not heal. And when your corpse finally hit the ground, then, and only then, would I wonder if I could have killed you in a way that brought you more suffering.”
They stood there, neither daring to breathe, amber and olive eyes locked. Hubert’s fingers were still pressed into Ferdinand’s chest.
Then, Hubert pulled away his fingers, and took a step back. He spared Ferdinand no glances as he glided past him and into his room. He shut the door firmly, the echo ringing in Ferdinand’s ears.
Ferdinand stood, stunned, breathless, outside of Edelgard’s door. Unable to think for an embarrassingly long time.
Finally, when he’d found his wits again, he raked a hand through his hair. Hubert’s threat had been so vivid—had he rehearsed it? Was it an image he played over and over in his mind, obsessing over the sensation of the blade, the scent of Ferdinand’s blood? Or had it been improvised, the idea occasioned to him by their proximity? How had Ferdinand even gotten himself into this situation in the first place?
The lecture notes.
“Wait!” Ferdinand called after him. He cursed himself. How had he gotten so distracted? How could he have gotten so enraptured by Hubert? He rapped the door a few times. “I still need…your notes…”
Hubert swung open the door, eyes alight in fury. The obsidian from his hair seemed to grow, the shadows from the hallway gathering on his face. “Here,” he spat. He threw the brown book at Ferdinand. “You may return it during class.” He slammed the door once more.
Ferdinand stood outside of Hubert’s room for a moment, unease swirling in his stomach. He regarded the brown book in his hands, but could only think of its mysterious cousin. Why was Hubert so protective of his book of schemes? He had never seen so much beneath Hubert’s shell: his unbridled anger, his fears—he feared things?
Ferdinand began walking back to his room, thinking on the secret notebook. What was Hubert keeping that he would beg to the future emperor to keep it? What was he hiding that he didn’t want even Edelgard to know?
Edelgard may have been convinced, but Ferdinand was not. As the future Prime Minister, it was his duty to keep the Empire safe.
He thought back to his, Caspar’s, and Bernadetta’s conversation in the dining hall. Maybe Hubert’s secret was something ridiculous like he truly was half-vampire. Maybe the book was a collection of embarrassing drawings or poems.
Or maybe it was something dangerous.
Ferdinand had to find out what was in there.