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Eight months had passed since Linhardt, Hubert, Hanneman, and Manuela had perfected their cure for Lysithea and Edelgard. Eight moons had come and gone since the weight of Edelgard’s second crest had been lifted. There had been relief and celebrations and cheers and toasts from all her friends— though the journey hadn’t ended there. It had taken all of Red Wolf Moon for Edelgard to recover her strength, to remember how to carry herself without the poison she had been forced to bear.
And now, on a bright Blue Sea Moon morning, Edelgard sat at her vanity with a dark frown.
The woman in the mirror looked nothing like an emperor should. She had long hair, still tangled from sleep, that fell well past her waist. Most of the hair was the silvery white she had grown accustomed to— but from the top of her head to just under her ears, the brown hair of her youth had begun to return.
Edelgard reached up and looped a few strands around her finger. The brown hair felt thicker, healthier. She rubbed where the brown became white and almost flinched. It was weak. And it made Edelgard feel weak. Hubert and Ferdinand had told her time and again that she shouldn’t expect to fully heal so soon, that it would take time for the effects of Slither’s experiment to truly disappear.
Yet— Edelgard wanted the memory gone as soon as possible. She wanted nothing more to do with Thales and his people, not now that the war was over and peace had settled in Fódlan.
The woman in the mirror looked ridiculous with two-toned hair. Her subjects shouldn’t be able to mark the progress of her recovery. They should look at Edelgard and know only strength.
In one swift motion, Edelgard held out a length of hair in one hand, plucked up her sewing scissors with the other, and cut .
White hair fell to the rug. Edelgard wound her fingers through more hair and clipped just under the brown— then she did it again. And again and again. Cutting through strand after strand with the same ferocity with which she had cut down enemies during the war, only this time— instead of a pool of blood— it created a silver halo of hair around her chair.
When at last she could feel the freshly chopped ends touching her ears, Edelgard looked back up at the woman in the mirror.
Short brown hair now framed soft violet eyes. The hair belonged to the child she had once been. The face belonged to the leader she had always known she would be. Put together, Edelgard didn’t recognize herself for a moment.
A knock at her bedroom door made her tense. In the mirror, she saw Hubert enter the room. “Good morning, Lady Edelgard,” he greeted— then he paused. Edelgard saw Hubert stop in the doorway, hand still on the knob.
It struck Edelgard, all at once, how childish she must look. Still in her nightclothes, surrounded by hair, a pair of scissors hanging loosely in her grasp, brown locks uneven where they curled against her neck. If anyone but Hubert had entered the room, she would have ordered them back out.
As it was, Edelgard merely turned to face Hubert, sheepishly placing the scissors on the vanity. “Good morning,” she returned.
Hubert’s eyes traced the scene before him. Then he spoke to one of the guards outside, too quiet for Edelgard to hear, before stepping into the room properly and shutting the door. “Would you care for some assistance?” He asked as he approached.
Edelgard nodded, turning back to the mirror as Hubert reached past her for the scissors. “I wanted it gone,” she said by way of explanation. It sounded ridiculous out loud. She felt her cheeks color and she lowered her gaze to her lap.
Hubert’s fingers combed through the brown, rogue strands of white falling as he did so. “I had a feeling this might happen.”
Edelgard snorted. Of course he had. They were in sync most of the time, but there were certain matters where it seemed like Hubert was three steps ahead of her. Apparently this was one such time. It was a relief not to have to attempt to explain herself adequately, with how tangled her mind was at the moment.
She heard the slide of metal on metal as Hubert opened the scissors— but then his fingers were under her chin, raising it back up so she looked forward. “Keep your head high, Your Majesty.”
The woman in the mirror cracked a smile. “Thank you, Hubert.”
“Of course. It makes it easier to cut, after all.” But she caught his answering smile.
For a while, they sat in silence, Hubert evening the locks and Edelgard watching. With each cut, Edelgard’s back straightened. Perhaps this hadn’t been the worst impulse. Her hair looked less silly as Hubert worked. Cute, even.
Once done, Hubert put the scissors down and brushed off her shoulders, adding to the pile around her. “There. Much better,” he announced with no small amount of pride.
“Indeed it is.” Edelgard reached up. The strong, brown hair was all that remained, partially covering her ears and tickling her pulse point in a way she hoped would become familiar soon. Once again she turned to face Hubert. “Thank you again. I realize I’ve made us late for several meetings.”
“I have already seen to that. All your morning meetings have been pushed into the afternoon, and any afternoon meetings that can keep have been pushed into tomorrow. I have everything in hand.”
“As always,” Edelgard said, finding a smile. Her hand returned to her hair, catching a lock and rolling it between her fingers. Her smile faded as she thought of all the accessories Hubert usually helped her with this time of day. “This… might be a challenge to style elegantly.” As strange as the woman in the mirror had looked this morning, at least she had been able to lean on the known. Edelgard couldn’t remember if her hair had ever been this short.
Hubert’s face softened— but before he could answer, a knock rang through the room. “Edelgard? You wanted to see me?”
Edelgard raised an eyebrow at Hubert, who merely turned to the bedroom door and shouted, “You may enter.”
Ferdinand opened the door and, like Hubert, froze when he saw Edelgard. She expected a dramatic exclamation or even an outcry. Ferdinand often spoke of his jealousy that Edelgard’s hair fell in effortless, silky lines while his had to be pulled back lest it become a mess of untamable waves by the afternoon. With her hair now this short, Ferdinand would surely have a strong opinion to express.
Wide amber eyes darted to Hubert. Whatever look Hubert gave him caused Ferdinand to clear his throat and shut the door, turning a beaming smile on the pair. “Good morning to you both!” Ferdinand began as he joined them. “Busy morning, I take it?” No question, no theatrics— just his usual positive glow. Edelgard let her remaining tension fall away.
“We were just discussing how to prepare Lady Edelgard’s hair for the day,” Hubert explained casually, as if this was a normal puzzle.
Ferdinand reached for a drawer in the vanity, glancing at Edelgard. “May I?”
She waved a hand nonchilantly to encompass the whole vanity. “Help yourself.”
In no time, Ferdinand had amassed accessories from Edelgard’s collection that even she hadn’t seen before, some long buried deep with disuse. All of it gold and fit for an emperor.
“What about these?” Hubert asked, picking up a pair of pins. They were gold with copper wire wound to create a stately flower, an opal set in the center of each.
Ferdinand scoffed. “They are more fit for spring, do you not agree?”
“Flowers don’t bloom solely in spring.”
“Regardless. I was thinking of this.” Ferdinand produced a rather large clip with an angular abstract design.
Hubert wrinkled his nose. “Much too gaudy for day wear.”
Ferdinand rolled his eyes— which was his normal way of admitting Hubert was right without saying Hubert was right— and put it down again.
Biting back a giggle, Edelgard selected a simple gold comb lined with pearls. “Perhaps something more like this?”
Both Hubert and Ferdinand shook their heads. “Ruby would be better,” Hubert said.
“Or garnet,” Ferdinand agreed, rummaging through another drawer. “Anything crimson.”
The boys got to work. They parted her hair this way and that. Sometimes it was tucked behind her ear, sometimes a clip held it back. Hubert tried a small side braid while Ferdinand picked through her vanity for the perfect tiara. They argued briefly over hair pins again until Edelgard put her foot down and reminded them that she very much had an opinion on this too.
“And if we are going with pins, I would like these !” Edelgard handed them each a gold pin with small maroon flowers and even smaller golden branches laced in between. “They are red, as requested, and I don’t care that it’s summer,” she added when both looked ready to protest again.
With a resigned sigh, Hubert held the pin with his teeth as he set to work arranging her hair just so. Ferdinand did the same. Edelgard closed her eyes and let them work, content to feel their sure fingers thread through her locks and listen to their quiet mutterings as they advised the other on slight adjustments.
The guilt she had felt at delaying their usual morning agenda had gone completely. What was peace for if not to give time to trivial matters such as this?
When the pins were in place, Hubert and Ferdinand stepped back, and Edelgard turned to the mirror.
The woman in the mirror looked every inch the ruler of the Empire. She sat tall, chin up, shoulders back, summer sun glinting off the clips and making it appear as if a gold halo encircled her head.
Edelgard sent the woman a watery smile before aiming it at the boys. “As usual, when you stop butting heads and work together, you two produce wonderful results.”
Ferdinand laughed outright while Hubert merely chuckled, neither arguing the point. “I believe we are ready to begin the day!” Ferdinand declared, sweeping the unused accessories back into a drawer.
“Agreed.” Hubert handed Ferdinand a few things from his side of the vanity. “As soon as Lady Edelgard gets dressed, that is. I shall send someone by to clean up later.”
Edelgard stood, feeling at once uneasy and elated that a curtain of hair did not accompany the movement— she felt light in more ways than one. “I shall meet you both shortly. I believe we deserve a generous breakfast before any meetings begin.”
The two nodded and turned for the door, falling into step with the other and already beginning a murmured conversation.
“And, Ferdinand?” He looked to her. Edelgard inclined her head with a grin. “Thank you. Your optimum is just what I needed this morning.”
Ferdinand put a hand over his heart and bowed. “It is my pleasure, Your Majesty.”
Then they were gone. And it was just Edelgard and the woman in the mirror.
Edelgard examined the woman one last time. At long last, they were both ready to begin.