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“I almost thought you asking me here was some kind of a joke.”
When the door slams shut behind her, it does so just a little bit louder than is probably necessary— but then again, absolutely everything that Hitch Dreyse does is just the right amount of necessary, in her humble opinion.
What makes her behavior slightly controversial, however, is how it’s aimed at individual she’s currently addressing.
Historia Reiss, for being the Queen of Paradis island, is incredibly tiny, she thinks to herself— even smaller than usual lately, she abruptly notices, taking a brief moment to scrutinize the prominent dark circles under her blue eyes and the ever-present worry lines that have settled in so very deeply.
“I can assure you that I requested you specifically.”
Her voice is tired, stretched too far and worn thin; and Hitch knows that she shouldn’t be irritated by it, but dammit, she just is.
“I’m honored, your grace.”
Yeah, like hell she is.
There’s been tangible tension in the room ever since Hitch entered, and when Historia stands up from the chair behind her grandiose desk to make her way over to a large window on the wall, it does nothing to alleviate the awkwardness that fills the whole space around them.
“I’ve a proposition for you, if you’ll hear it.” Her words are tense, the air around them clipped, and Hitch already knows that she has a zero percent chance of being able to refuse whatever is coming her way.
Historia falls silent yet again, her azure blue eyes dropping down to watch a group of children playing outside in the courtyard of the castle she’s chosen for this district. If she squints and tilts her head just right, one of the younger girls with tan skin and cropped brunette hair and a roguish smile brings back a sudden flood of memories that she wasn’t at all prepared for.
Back to business, then, she tells herself, biting down upon her bottom lip to stifle the tears that threaten to well up and stream down her cheeks.
“You’re aware that Nile and I… we were close, before the end.”
Hitch says nothing, but nods her head vaguely in acknowledgement. Her former commander had always spoken highly of Historia, had loved her like one of his own daughters— but he had also become a pure titan thanks to Eren Yaeger, and was ultimately murdered as a result— she knows this all too well.
“So when it came to choosing his replacement, I… I thought long and hard. At Armin’s urging, I’ve called you here to make you Commander of the Military Police going forwards.”
And fucking hell, it’s downright poor decorum that she’s pretty sure is probably even punishable by some sort of arcane statute or law, but Hitch just can’t stop herself:
She suddenly bursts into a bout of loud, bitter laughter, leaving Historia looking downright confused as a result.
“‘Close’, huh?” She begins in a slow drawl, and before Hitch can even attempt to halt her words, the sentiments begin to cobble themselves together and flow freely with no semblance of restraint.
“Could have warned him about the spinal fluid in the wine, then. Or maybe just the rumbling. A tiny heads up about Eren would have been nice, too.”
Historia’s face is one of sheer shock, and for some inexplicable reason all that her silent stupor does is make Hitch even angrier.
“I wonder how close you two were, really. I wonder if you’ve been to see Marie, to look at the remains of his home, to visit the grave of his child who died when the walls collapsed on him as the titans began to march.”
Her voice has begun to ascend in volume while simultaneously descending in tone, and even though Hitch is well aware speaking so candidly to the Queen in such a manner could easily be labeled treason, the whirlwind of emotions raging uncontrollably inside of her makes it so that she can’t bring herself to care in the slightest.
“I really have to wonder if you actually cared at all, Historia, because you let him die. You let them all die— those on the island, and those out in rest of the world, too. You knew everything, and said nothing.”
If the ostensible queen of Paradis might want to say something in her own defense, she most certainly doesn’t have the willpower to do it; her face is blank, and her eyes are empty.
“I’ll take the job,” Hitch finally says after a long stretch of painful silence, turning on her heel to approach the exit without bothering to look back at the petite blonde girl behind her. Her hand lingers upon the doorknob for a choice few seconds before she finally rotates her head to cast a glance back at the other woman.
“I’ll take it to honor Nile’s memory. I’ll take it because I’m loyal to the Military Police and the island.”
Hitch then takes in a deep, shaky breath before turning away from the other girl once more.
“But just know this: royalty or not, I’ll never be able to forgive you, Historia— because you knew.”
And with that, she wrenches the door open and then promptly slams it shut behind her, not particularly interested in anything that the Queen might think or have to say about her objectively inappropriate outburst.
They’re all just excuses in the end, anyway.