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Chapter Text

First of the Great Tree Moon

Hubert Von Vestra leaned against the brick wall of Garreg Mach's dining hall, sipping his black coffee slowly as he observed his liege with the sharpened vision and focus of a hawk. She had taken upon herself to spend her lunch break mingling with the other students, more specifically with their Black Eagles classmates. It was her duty to maintain good relations with the different members of the Black Eagles, nobles and commoners alike, as the leader of their class and the future Adestrian Empress.

Lady Edelgard was the polar opposite of him: charismatic, social and able to successfully cage in her traumatic past and project an image of self-confidence and high-spirited leadership. Hubert was her shadow, her guard dog and her protector. His hands would be the ones getting dirty if any nefarious affairs needed to be handled for her Highness. His primary goal was to serve her and her cause, to cut a bloody path for her.

Hubert took another sip of his coffee, happy to remain backstage and observe the action from afar. He had no interest in joining in the group, especially since the insufferable prime minister's son was sitting right next to her Highness, blabbing about his countless fictitious prowesses and disrespecting her almost every time he opened his mouth.

Today was the very first day of the academic year at the officer's academy. His enrollment had not been a voluntary choice, but rather the logical course of action to take for protecting her Highness and work to enact her plan. To say he was looking forward to an entire school year pretending to be a student would be a lie, yet, it was necessary nonetheless.

To add insult to injury, the coffee in this place was abysmal… He could have marinated his old dirty socks in boiling water for three hours and that would be a more pleasant beverage to drink than whatever this concoction he had been drinking for ten minutes was… This would be a long year…

Once Lady Edelgard bid farewell to her classmates and moved in his direction, he walked towards the door on the south side signaling her to follow him. The balcony by the dining hall was less crowded than the dining hall itself and would be a more appropriate place to discuss their plan without prying ears close by. He had been waiting for her to be done to finally discuss the enactment of their machination to replace the Black Eagles' teacher with Jeritza von Hrym.

"Lady Edelgard," he started, bowing to his liege, "I have found a few unsavory gangs of thieves that would make the perfect victims for our operation," he stated, a devilish smile curved at the edge of his mouth.

"Excellent! Have you…"

As Lady Edelgard spoke, someone captured his attention from the corner of his eye. Everything around him suddenly became a blur, the voice of her Highness trailing off into the void as his mind was solely focused on the blue haired student that had manifested out of thin air.

She was like a divine apparition, the choir singing her praise in his mind as his gaze was riveted on her. His heart stopped momentarily, his breath caught in his throat. He was mesmerized by the beauty his eyes were bearing witness to.

Nothing in this world had ever been as magnificent, as enchanting and as entrancing as the creature before him. He never truly believed in the Goddess and even less in the church's definition of her, but if there was truly a divine being in this world, surely it was the woman captivating him at this very moment.

It was love at first sight.

“...bert? Hubert? Are you listening to me?”

Hubert suddenly snapped out of his reverie, regrettably brought back to reality.

“Yes, my apologies, Lady Edergard, I… I got distracted for a moment," he trailed off on his words, struggling to come up with a satisfying explanation.

Edelgard frowned at Hubert, his strange behavior a surprise. It was not like him to be distracted so easily…

She turned around to look for the source of his distraction but nothing looked out of the ordinary behind her, just a few students and knights walking by in the distance.

"I was asking you if you have made contact with any of them yet?" she repeated, choosing to ignore his momentary lapse of concentration. "We have to be extremely careful so nobody can trace the thieves back to us…"

"Of course, it goes without saying. You can be assured that I will handle the situation with the utmost discretion," he answered calmly, retrieving his usual acuteness. "To answer your question, I have not contacted any as of yet, I'm still evaluating which ones would make the best patsy."

"Very well. Please let me know once you've made your choice."

"Of course, Lady Edelgard."

"I guess I will see you later in class."

He bowed as she left. As soon as he was out of Lady Edelgard's sight, he immediately looked around in hope his mysterious beauty was still close by. 

Where had she gone…?

For ten minutes straight, Hubert wandered through the monastery, trying to retrace the steps of the blue haired girl from the direction he had last observed her. Mysteriously, she had disappeared into the same thin air, from which she had materialized in the first place. Through his desperate search, he eventually ended up in the library despite the location being nowhere near where he had started his hunt.

And yet, there she was, as gorgeous as she had been ten minutes prior. She was focused on a book seated at the table in the very back, her delicate features illuminated under the candle light providing her with a glow that made her look even more divine.

He grabbed the first book his fingers grazed from the shelves and sat at the table diagonal from hers, far enough that she would not notice him staring diligently and close enough that he could observe her to his heart’s content. Opening the book to a random page, he drank everything he could admire about her from the corner of his eye.

Her periwinkle hair was braided into a messy bun, her wispy bangs almost covering her brown doe eyes. A few longer loose strands were framing her heart shaped face, her adorable button nose wiggling as she bit her bottom lip focused on the book in her hands. Her pale skin contrasted with the rose of her cheeks.

Confusion was overwhelming him as he stared at her secretly. Why was he incapable of tearing his eyes away from her? Why her? Why now?

Never did anybody cause such a violent reaction internally. His hands were sweating, his throat felt dry, his heart was hammering loudly within his ribcage, his brain felt like mush. If he had the misfortune of trying to hold a conversation with her at the moment, the only words escaping his lips would be an unintelligible stuttered mess.

It was not as if his interest in the fairer sex was a new discovery. Many women had captivated him in the past, a handful he had even slept with. Yet, why he was so smitten with this particular blue-haired young lady was a complete mystery, reduced to peep at her like an infatuated teenager.

How pathetic are you, prying into this random student instead of tending to more important business?

“Ah, Hubert, here you are!” a grinding voice reached his ears.

Hubert turned around, only to see standing next to him the bane of his existence: Ferdinand Von Aegir.

"Ferdinand, are you too brainless to realize I'm occupied right now?" 

He finally took notice of the book in his hands he had been pretending to read all along. The Book of Seiros. What in this world did he grab from the bookshelf…? His skin almost burned from holding such an abomination in his hands.

Ferdinand grabbed the book from him, frowning at it with incredulity.

“Hmm, the Book of Seiros? Hubert, I never took you for a religious man!”

For crying out loud…

"It's purely for research purposes," he stated impatiently, snatching the book back from the man's hands.

"Research? What kind of research would you be doing with this book?"

Hubert sighed, his patience running thin, getting more aggravated with every second spent in Ferdinand's company.

"What do you want, Ferdinand?" Hubert snarled.

"Well, I was thinking, given Edelgard will be needing both of our counsel throughout the academic year, I thought you and I should work on improving our rapport. I feel like we started off on the wrong foot and I'd like to fix that," Ferdinand stated innocently, in all of his typical naivete.

Hubert scoffed at the absurdity of his proposal.

"Lady Edelgard," he stressed on the first word trying to admonish Ferdinand for how improperly he spoke of her Highness, as if they were more than mere acquaintances, "does not need your counsel. You are merely the prime minister's son, you should know your place. I don't have time for your nonsense at the moment, why don't you take your leave?" Hubert dismissed him, lowering his head to resume pretending to read the hackwork in his hands.

He heard Ferdinand huff indignantly, then leave without saying a word, too enraged to even mutter a clever comeback.

Desperate to resume his previous activity of gazing at his new obsession, his eyes surveyed the room, only to realize she was nowhere to be found. 

His fair lady had slipped through his fingers again…

Thank you to Palluniversal for the amazing fanart!!! 💖

Chapter Text

Eight of the Great Tree Moon

The academic year was on its eighth day and Hubert was already over-extended in his duties as Lady Edelgard’s right hand man and his new role as an Officers Academy student. Sleepless nights were already customary so early in the school year. Soon he would have to inject caffeine directly into his bloodstream to survive…

To make matters worse, he was also distracted constantly by a certain blue-haired student. He had been convinced at first that his infatuation was momentary, but every time she appeared in his line of vision, his body would go through the same symptoms it had initially experienced: frantic heartbeat, dry throat, sweaty palms, hypnotized mind, and so on... Eight days later, he was still as smitten as he had been that very first time. She was a distraction, a bewitching temptress refusing to stop tormenting him...

Worst above all else, every morning, she leisurely walked on the path by the dormitories and sat for a few minutes on the bench facing Dorothea Arnault’s room, the very room below his, clear as can be in all of her stunning beauty for him to savor as he drank his morning coffee by the window.

The first time he had noticed her sitting there, he had almost choked on his sip of coffee. Had he not caught her chatting softly with the birds in the bushes right by the bench, he would have believed she was aware of his affliction and sat there purely to further torture him. Once he understood this was part of her daily routine, without fail, his morning coffee would be enjoyed by the window as he observed her, love-struck the entire time.

Some of his limited time was used to investigate her further. He had discovered she was the adopted daughter of Margrave Edmund, Marianne. She must possess a crest otherwise the Margrave would have never troubled himself with adopting the girl, but the nature of her crest seemed to be veiled in secrecy. His understanding was that she was of noble birth, but her parents had died a few years ago from a mysterious ailment.

He had stalked her on a few occasions already, as pathetic as he found the practice. It seemed to be customary for her to be alone; he had never witnessed her interact with anybody. She instead favored the company of animals: birds, horses and kitties that took refuge in the monastery, a habit he found most endearing. She indulged in activities done in solitary, just as he did. He had been a spectator to a few of her favorites: feeding the horses in the stable, watering the flowers in the greenhouse and praying to the Goddess in the cathedral. The latter was troubling to him, but he was so enamored by her that he excused it.

On this lovely morning of the Great Tree Moon, his morning coffee in hand, he awaited her apparition excitedly as he perched himself by the window expecting his prey.

The most absurd idea had crossed his mind yesterday. He was still debating whether to pursue it or not…

Time was his most precious commodity at the moment and courting Lady Edmund would require a large investment of it that he did not have the luxury to expend. Regardless, Lady Edelgard may not approve of the venture given his myriad of responsibilities. She was almost exclusively relying on him to enact her ambitions and sabotaging his position as vassal to her Highness to chase skirt was out of the question.

There was also the issue of his popularity with the ladies, or lack thereof. Had he confronted Lady Edmund directly and openly flirted with her, she would most likely be repulsed by him. His threatening demeanor and sinister nature had a tendency to frighten women. His only past romantic or sexual encounters were with women of common birth wishing to improve their standing by seducing him because of his future title of Marquis.

There was a solution that would address all of the aforementioned issues: communicating with her through writing. Through letters, he could remain anonymous, removing the prospect of her dismissing him on the basis of his dubious reputation. No one would be aware of his endeavors; it would remain a secret even to Lady Edelgard. The time spent writing could be managed in a way that would allow him plenty of time for all of his duties. This was definitely the perfect solution…

While he was cogitating, Lady Edmund had already come and gone, her absence leaving his heart aching which pushed him to give his outlandish idea a shot. Sighing, he sat at his desk and grabbed his pen ready to pour his soul onto the paper.

“Dear Lady Edmund,

You have captivated my heart. I believe you to be the most divine creature the Goddess has ever molded. Your existence warms my soul like the clear blue afternoon sky your tresses of hair evoke.”

Hell no… What am I thinking? This sounds like something Ferdinand or that insufferable purple haired imbecile would write…

He crumpled the paper and threw it in the wastebasket.

Let’s try from a different angle…

“Dear Lady Edmund,

I am a student at the Officers Academy just like you. I have been observing you from afar for the last few days and I believe you are a stunningly beautiful woman. I am hoping you will allow me to correspond with you in this fashion so we may become acquainted.”

No, that won’t do. It’s too dry, too clinical…

Another crumpled up letter was thrown in the wastebasket.

“Dear Lady Edmund,

You look irresistible to me. All I have been thinking about for the past eight days is how I want to stalk you during your morning walk, sneak on you while you’re in that back alley behind the stable, press you roughly against the brick wall and ravish your body all day long…”

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO!

Hubert grunted as he slammed his forehead on the desk in complete exasperation, the pen in his left hand threatening to snap under his frustration.

Would he ever find the right words to express his feelings?

Thank you once again to Palluniversal for another amazing fanart!!! 💖

Chapter Text

Ninth of the Great Tree Moon

Marianne von Edmund was enjoying her daily morning stroll in the courtyard of Garreg Mach's monastery. Almost every minute of her nine days of enrollment at the Officers Academy had been spent wishing she was somewhere else. All she desired was to remain at the Margrave's estate and dedicate her days to walking in the gardens while talking to her bird friends and to tending to the horses. Had the monastery not been filled with adorable furry friends to converse with, her misery would know no bounds.

Her adoptive father was the one who insisted on her attending the academy. Marianne was to become the wife of the next Margrave one day, and according to her father, this school year would be the perfect opportunity for her to mingle with the other nobles and develop the diplomatic skills much needed for the position. Despite his good intentions and the fact she held the man in high regard, she still disagreed with his decision. By being surrounded by a multitude of students, school staff and the likes, the possibility of her harming somebody due to her crest was too considerable of a risk to hazard.

Her first few days had been spent avoiding any form of contact with her classmates. If she failed to follow her own strict rules, the consequences could be dire and this idea terrorized her. She was doomed to forever be alone, to never know the warmth and care of another person in her life outside of her adoptive father.

Marianne stopped her leisurely promenade as she arrived at her destination. A couple of yellow warblers built their nest in the bushes siding the walkway by the dormitories. Before the beginning of class, she always reserved a few minutes of her time to sit on the bench and chat with her feathery friends.

"Good morning, little birdies,“ she murmured as she sat on the bench, worried somebody else could hear her outside of the warblers. “How are you doing on this fine sunny morning?”

She giggled as the birds chirped lively at her in response.

As she discussed with her only friends at the academy, she noticed something white sticking out from the bushes a few inches from where the bird's nest laid. Confused as to what it may be, she reached out and wrapped her delicate fingers around it.

A letter?

Why was a letter placed in these bushes of all places?

As she brought it closer to her eyes to examine it, surprise overwhelmed her.

"To Lady Edmund," the envelope read in a messy handwriting.

A letter for me?

Why would a letter addressed to her be peculiarly placed in this bush? It made no sense whatsoever…

Her hands fiddled with the letter for a few minutes, unsure she wished for its contents to be revealed. Taking a deep breath to muster the courage to open it, she found a single sheet of paper folded inside the envelope. Nothing could have prepared her for the shocking words she was on the verge of reading.

“Dear Lady Edmund,

You may be wondering why a letter addressed to you was left by this bench for you to discover. Eight days ago, you crossed my path, like a divine apparition, and since then, I have been utterly smitten. I was enthralled by your delicate features and your timid poise. I know, it sounds downright cliché, but I assure you, it is the honest truth.

Please know that my intentions with you are pure. I have no ulterior motive, my only desire is to correspond with you and hopefully conquer your heart through my words.

I wish to remain anonymous for the moment. I have my reasons that I am not inclined to divulge just yet.

Suffice to say that if you accept my courtship, my joy will be immeasurable. With your reciprocation perhaps we can foster a level of affection that would lead to us becoming inseparable. If you ever so desire to communicate back with me eventually, please know that I will cherish your attention above all else.

If you wish me to continue pouring my heart out to you, simply come back to this same spot on the morrow. If you deny me the magnificence of your beauty by the morning, my heart will never recover from such an affliction, but I will respect your decision nonetheless.

Yours, truly."

Oh no… Surely this was a mistake? She was not aware of another student at the Academy with her same last name, but maybe one of the staff of the monastery or a visitor of the church was also called Edmund. No man could possibly regard her with such esteem…

Why would they be enamored with her, the frumpy, clumsy and recluse girl of ordinary physique when the academy was filled with exceptional beauties like the sophisticated allure of the future Adestrian Empress, the chivalrous grace of the future Countess of Galatea or the charm and voluptuous curves of her own classmate Hilda Valentine Goneril…

This person claimed their intentions were pure, but perhaps it was a deception… Somebody with nefarious ambitions that wished to wed her only to gain the title of Margrave…

It made no difference… Even if she had truly charmed this person, nobody should associate with her… She was a presage of bad omen. Only misfortune would befall this man by associating with her… It had happened to her parents, the same fate would fall upon them as well…

Goddess, why was this happening to her…?

From the window of his room, Hubert’s unfaltering focus was entirely engrossed by Marianne as she was reading his letter. His morning coffee had to be put down on the table nearby for fear of dropping it from the restlessness of his current state. A massive lump had lodged itself in his throat and no amount of saliva seemed to help it go down. Insecurity was not a feeling Hubert was used to experiencing.

Was his letter too mushy? Was the length of it adequate or should he have babbled considerably more? Was it too impersonal? Should he have chosen to open his heart further and show vulnerability?

The subtleties of the art of seducing a woman were lost on him. When it came to seducing a noble woman, his obliviousness increased twofold. His skillset included dark magic, operating in the shadows and protecting his liege at all cost. Those skills were worthless when it came to conquering the heart of his beloved.

Serving Lady Edelgard and her cause never necessitated for him to become a heartbreaker, unless she wished for him to marry somebody for political reasons. It would be purely a marriage of convenience, no wooing would be involved… He unexpectedly wished some of his effort had been expended on courtship. He may be ready to die for his lady’s cause, but he had not intended to fall in love at the height of his duties…

Hubert observed Marianne close his letter and stare absently at her own hands as she fidgeted with the envelope. To his averted eyes, she looked pale, almost nauseous. Perhaps the idiocy of his words distressed her…

After an intolerable eternity, the Cathedral's bell tolled in the distance, snapping Marianne out of her contemplation. Hubert watched as the blue-haired student dawdled towards the classrooms, her footsteps heavier and her shoulders sagging considerably more than a few minutes ago. The lump in his throat grew bigger with each step she took.

His trepidation would be his only companion for the next twenty-four hours.

Chapter Text

Tenth of the Great Tree Moon

Morning class was to begin in less than five minutes and Hubert was riveted to his window, desperate to see a certain blue-haired student turn the corner. At this point, only a fool would still believe she was to manifest, but he refused to admit defeat just yet. Closing his eyes out of frustration, he sighed, his fourth time in a matter of five minutes.

She's not coming…

The realization finally sank in. It was time to capitulate: his letter had failed to convince her and he would forever be reduced to admiring her secretly…

Grabbing his books, Hubert rushed to the door and sprinted through the dormitories' corridor to reach class on time.

Hubert stopped abruptly in front of his classroom, staring at the closed door as he listened attentively. Panting from running through the entire school grounds, the voice of their teacher could be heard faintly over his own breath. Despite his presence at the Academy not being a preference of his, Hubert was still committed to being a proper student and would never willingly show up late to class. 

Sneaking in, Hubert maneuvered through the classroom like a shadow. To his dismay, the only remaining seat was next to his archnemesis, Ferdinand von Aegir himself. Reluctantly, Hubert sat next to him, cautious to be as non disruptive as possible.

"Aaaah, Hubert, how kind of you to finally grace us with your presence!" a certain arrogant redhead interjected loudly for the entire class to hear.

That pompous fool… He will pay for that!

"Of course, next time I will try to follow the example of the noblest of all nobles," Hubert quipped back, eager to spit his venom at him.

"You are correct, Hubert, you should follow my example. I, Ferdinand von Aegir, am the embodiment of grace, honor and righteousness," he declared proudly, his lack of self-awareness concerning. “If you acted more like me, we wouldn’t need to interrupt class for you. Your nonchalant attitude and contempt for decorum is a disgrace to your name!”

Silence permeated the room for a few seconds, until it was filled with Hubert’s uncontrollable maniacal laugh. Of all the moments Ferdinand could have chosen to poke the bear, this had to have been the worst.

"Ferdinand, the irony of your words are truly lost on you. Your tomfoolery knows no bounds. Your assessment is as disconnected from reality as your intimate tea swilling rendezvous with that purple haired imbecile, wherein you feign interest in the well being of Fodlan while preening like a pompous peacock. Unlike you, I don't simply rest on my laurels and believe everything should be handed to me because of my family line," Hubert spewed at the man, his irritation palpable.

"I won't let you disrespect the Aegir name like that! I will be the prime minister one day and I will deserve this title. I am diligent and dedicated, just like my father and all of my bloodline!

"Oh, the same bloodline that condoned the kidnapping, torture and murder of children?" he smirked, the intent to wound Ferdinand plain to see.

"How dare you slander my father's good name with these false accusations! My father would never do such a thing. This is more akin to something that you might do!" Ferdinand proclaimed, offended.

"Ha, how droll! You are always so oblivious to everything, Ferdinand! You will definitely end up as incompetent and dimwitted as your father… Though I do certainly hope your hairline does not end up being as potent a weapon in a well lit room as his. Yes, truly a superior bloodline…"

All eyes were riveted on the two bucks sparring to establish dominance. The teacher gawked at them mouth agape, helpless on how to control the situation. It took Edelgard to intervene for the situation to finally get resolved.

"Enough, you two!” Edelgard ordered them firmly as she stood from her seat. “Stop arguing already so that we can start class!" she finished, her voice commanding. She turned to their teacher and continued with a softer tone. "Mr. Ahlefeldt, I believe this lesson was about battle tactics, is that correct?"

"Hmm, yes, that's correct, thank you, Edelgard,” the teacher uttered, regaining his composure. “So yes, today we will…"

The teacher's voice trailed off in the distance of Hubert’s mind as he sat down still fuming from his exchange with Ferdinand. He pretended to pay attention to the lesson, feeling the daggers coming out of Ferdinand's eyes beside him, satisfied to have touched a nerve.

The bell had tolled to indicate the end of class and Hubert found himself frozen in his seat, lost in his own musings. He remembered almost nothing of the two lectures from this morning’s class, his mind had been engrossed by the one and only blue-haired student that had crushed his heart. His eyes absently focussed on his liege as she approached him. 

“Lady Edelgard,” he bowed as he started gathering his belongings.

“Hubert, what happened at the beginning of class? Why were you so hostile towards Ferdinand?”

He sneered, the simple mention of the man’s name fueling his temper.

“He is a simple-minded buffoon that must be reminded of his place. He thinks of himself as your equal, Lady Edelgard. Ludicrous…”

"Listen, Hubert, I find him just as insufferable as you, but don't you think you were a bit harsh with him? We must remain civil with Ferdinand. We may be able to rally him to our cause eventually… It would be ill-advised to make an enemy out of him just because you can't get along with him…"

Lady Edelgard’s assessment was on the nose. Hubert sighed, irritated by his own behavior. Lady Edmund’s rejection had impacted his ability to serve her Highness appropriately. This was inexcusable.

"You're right, Lady Edelgard. My apologies for my behavior," he bowed, the remorse distinguishable in his voice.

"Is there something troubling you, Hubert? I find you a bit distracted lately."

"Nothing that you should concern yourself with."

“Very well. I trust you, Hubert,” she said with a tinge of disappointment in her voice. “I will see you this afternoon.”

Edelgard left Hubert to his own devices; he remained seated to reflect on the situation for several minutes. 

Lady Edmund had no interest in him, despite his best efforts. Perhaps it was better this way. His plate was already full and adding such a delightful distraction on top of everything would make his life impossible to manage moving forward. It was in his best interest to simply move on and forget about this silly infatuation.

I tried…

Twelfth of the Great Tree Moon

The last two days had proven more arduous than anticipated for Hubert. Despite all of his best efforts, it was becoming abundantly clear that it would require more than two days to get over his disappointment. In his nineteen years of existence, this was his first true infatuation and he felt his world had been turned upside down the moment his eyes had laid on her. Perhaps he had to practice some patience until the sight of her delicate beauty became a distant memory…

The habit of drinking his morning coffee by the window had persisted even though he told himself countless times that he ought to choose a better spot to enjoy his delectable homebrew. Lost in his thoughts, his gaze lingered on the corner from where Lady Edmund would usually emerge before she had put an abrupt stop to her morning stroll.

Hubert almost choked on his sip as Marianne materialized in his line of vision. 

Would she finally be granting him her anticipated response? Or had she simply wished to resume her daily routine now that she had dismissed him? 

As his gaze focused on her like a lion stalking his prey, Hubert labored to temper his expectations and to avoid getting his hopes crushed a second time. A bud of excitement formed in the pit of his stomach as he watched her approach the fated bushes. If his vision was not tricking him, she appeared to be fiddling with the thicket as if jamming something in the thick leaves and branches.

It took Hubert all of his self-control to not run immediately to the cursed shrub. He would have to show restraint if he did not wish to inadvertently reveal his identity.

With the letter in his shaking hands, Hubert tore the envelope impatiently. 

Morning class had never felt so insufferably long, the teacher’s lecture a muddle of platitudes stretching into an eternity. He had waited until lunch break to dash to the path by the dormitories, of course, ensuring first that Lady Edmund was still in her classroom before proceeding.

Letter unfolded, Hubert did not lose any more time to finally satiate his curiosity.

"To the kind person that left the letter in the bushes for me,

I am flattered by your attention and devotion, but please know that it would be ill advised for you to get closer to me. Should you choose to ignore my advice, a dangerous fate will await you. Additionally, I feel compelled to inform you that I’m not a very interesting person, you would come to be disappointed eventually… Please, just ignore me and keep your distance. There are far more captivating ladies at the academy that deserve your affection.

Marianne"

To say that he expected the content of this letter to be anything remotely close to what his eyes had just witnessed would be a lie. 

A dangerous fate will await you? What nonsense was that? Was this some roundabout way to let him know that she was not interested? Or was this some veiled threat to warn him that she would send somebody to unearth his identity and attack him if he chose to contact her again? Or did she think that her personality was so dull that he would literally feel physical pain by conversing with her?

He was at a loss at how to interpret this jumble of rubbish.

Sitting at his desk, Hubert immediately took pen and paper and conscientiously crafted a letter that would unearth her true intentions.

"Dear Lady Edmund,

I would be lying if I said that your words did not cause me anguish. Nevertheless, I respect your decision and will communicate with you again only if you choose to reply to this letter. I do not wish to dismiss your concerns. Perhaps something terrible will happen to me as a result of our exchanges, but please be informed that you are well worth the risk to me.

I must admit however that your words left me perplexed. I cannot imagine why you would ever come to the conclusion that harm may befall me if I choose to pursue you. Would you be so kind as to enlighten me? I could provide my perspective on your situation if more details were revealed to me. This way, perhaps I could share your burden and help you alleviate it.

Yours, truly.

B"

“That will have to do…” he thought to himself as he folded the piece of paper and placed it inside a fresh envelope. Hubert would wait until nighttime to conceal his letter in the bushes. 

Fourteenth of the Great Tree Moon

"Dear B,

You have my sincere apologies if my words have hurt you. It is difficult for me to fathom why you would take interest in me, but I will choose to believe you.

I cannot divulge too much, but I can tell you that my crest would be the cause of your potential harm. This is as much as I am willing to reveal without taking the risk of compromising my secret and putting you in danger.

I hope that you will understand.

Marianne"

Fifteenth of the Great Tree Moon

"Dear Lady Edmund,

I implore my lady to not burden herself with my feelings. You have done absolutely nothing wrong and you should not feel compelled to apologize to me.

I also want you to know how devoted and committed I am to you. You must understand that it is in my very nature to protect and assist the people dear to my heart, the consequences I may suffer as a result are of no importance.

I grew up with an inflexible father that never hesitated to berate us when we misbehaved or failed to uphold our duties. Once, many years ago, one of my dear sisters unwillingly injured a member of the noble family that we were serving, and my father felt humiliated as a consequence. He had no idea my sister was to blame, so I chose to carry the responsibility of her mistake. I lied to my father and admitted I was the one that injured the noble. As a result, I was on the receiving end of my father’s wrath, and he did not hold back. The sound his belt produced when scorching my skin still reverberates in my mind. In spite of that, the pain did not matter to me, as long as my sister was safe from his mistreatment. I even took pride in the bruises covering my body afterwards, they were a reminder that I succeeded in protecting her.

You may be wondering why I chose to share this story with you. Perhaps part of me was longing to open myself to you as to finally convince you that my intentions with you are pure. The main reason was to demonstrate that the damage your crest may inflict on me is of no importance. My lady, you have truly captivated me and if it means dealing with a few cuts and bruises as a result, I will bear the pain to capture your heart.

There is also one last matter that I wished to discuss with you. I considered your situation and have come to a conclusion. Given that I have not divulged my true identity to you and that we are not in immediate physical distance, I believe it is extremely unlikely for your crest to have any effect on me. I am possessed of some small knowledge when it comes to crests, and I must admit that I never heard of a crest capable of harming others from a distance through sheer will of thought. I have no doubts that your crest is quite powerful, but it would be unprecedented for it to possess such powers. 

Please, my lady, I hope that you ponder over my words.

Yours, truly.

B."

Sixteenth of the Great Tree Moon

"Dear B,

I gave thoughts to your words as you asked, and I have to confess that they ring true to me. You are keeping your identity hidden from me, thus the effects of my crest should not be able to reach you.

We should still be prudent. If you came to be injured because of my selfishness, I could not forgive myself. Maybe we can exchange a few more letters and see what will come of it?

I beg you, if at any moment you feel unwell, haunted, or visited by a strange creature, please cease any communication with me. Will you promise me? I understand that the harm you may suffer is inconsequential to you, but it is of the utmost importance to me! Just like you, I do not wish for the people dear to me to get injured by my fault…

It may be rude of me to burden you with my problems, but it is true that I have felt lonely since joining the academy. My crest is a constant source of distress, and because of it, I have to persistently keep people away from me. It is exhausting and agonizing. I will be honest, your last letter has been a source of comfort to me, it made me feel heard and less isolated. 

I will be eagerly awaiting the next one.

Marianne"

Seated on his bed and still dressed in his mantle and boots as he had rushed to his room after retrieving the letter, Hubert's usual morose features were plastered with the wickedest smirk of satisfaction. His chest rising and falling with the frantic beat of his heart, Hubert chuckled to himself out of pure elation.

There was the prospect this year might be his last, but Hubert would guarantee it would become the most exciting of his existence by making Lady Edelgard’s vision a reality and conquering the heart of his beloved.

Chapter Text

Seventeenth of the Great Tree Moon

"Dear Lady Edmund,

Today is a special day for me. I cannot elaborate exhaustively without compromising my identity but the fact that today of all days I get to freely communicate with you and that you have given me your approval to do as such makes this day all the more exceptional.

I promise you that if at any point our correspondence causes me pain, or I get visited by the strange creature you alluded to, I will cease communication with you.

Now that we have agreed to this arrangement, I was hoping we could discuss other topics outside of the potential effects of your crest on my person. I am guilty of knowing very little about you outside of your exquisite beauty and your reserved poise and I would gladly remedy this bothersome issue. Would you be willing to share a bit of yourself with me?

What does my lady enjoy? Why did you choose to attend the academy? And it may be selfish of me to ask you such a question, and I hope I will not vex you by doing so, but have you ever given any thoughts to marriage and if so, how would you judge a man to be an appropriate sutor for you? 

I want to learn everything there is to know about you, Lady Edmund. Of course, this implies unearthing if I am worthy of your affection as well.

It would be unfair of me to inquire about my lady and yet refuse to reciprocate and open myself to you. Therefore, I can share that I am of noble birth as well, yet I feel compelled to tell you that I find the concept of nobility to be archaic and retrograde. One should only deserve such an important title on the basis of their merit rather than their bloodline. I believe that the entire nobility system should be dismantled and power should be reclaimed by the common folks. 

I want you to understand how little significance I give to your noble title or the crest coursing through your veins. It is you that I find captivating, Lady Edmund, and not what society has chosen to burden you with.

One last thing, I have noticed that you often favor solitude to the company of others. I profess that I am much the same. Although I enjoy the presence of those I respect from time to time, it is on my own that I feel the most content. Of course, unless I had the pleasure of enjoying your companionship, then I am certain I would find it preferable to my sole company.

Yours, truly.

B.”

Twentieth of the Great Tree Moon

"Dear B,

I do not typically spend much time talking about myself. I am not a very interesting person… I guess I will humor you given that you have been so kind to me.

To answer your questions, my adoptive father is the one that forced me to attend the Academy. I had no wish of joining this school and I still doubt my presence here every day.

As for marriage, I have accepted a long time ago that such matters will never be part of my future. My crest will not allow me this joy. So I have never really given any thoughts to the qualities one must possess to gain my love. If I had to choose something spontaneously, I would say a person that is kind and understanding would garner my interest.

You asked what it is that I enjoy and I can say without a doubt that I adore the company of animals. You may find it silly, but sometimes I converse with them. I am especially fond of Dorte, the horse from Garreg Mach’s stable. He is such a gentle creature and I feel that, deep down, he understands me…

Maybe I should not be telling you this, you may never wish to speak to me again after revealing something so foolish. I think I developed this kinship with animals because of how lonely I felt… With animals, I do not have to constantly worry about causing them harm or cursing them. When I pet Dorte or when I chat with the birds in the greenhouse, this burden I constantly have to carry around suddenly feels lighter. It is comforting and liberating. 

I hope I am not disappointing you by sharing this with you. I wager your fascination for me has been evaporating with every word you have been reading from this letter…

I am truly sorry for my shortcomings. It is probably better that you stop writing to me.

I wish you well.

Marianne"

Fifth of the Harpstring Moon

"Dear Lady Edmund,

I must extend my most sincere apologies for the lack of communication more recently. Important matters have kept me occupied in the last few weeks. Regretfully, I still have much to take care of and may not have the freedom to spend time corresponding with my lady in the near future. I hope you will forgive me.

I have the dreadful feeling that you interpreted my absence as a sign of rejection, that you have revealed things in your last letter that revolted me. Fear not, you have done absolutely nothing to drive me away and none of what you said should instill shame and self-deprecation in you. Please, my lady, I hope you will believe me when I say my silence had absolutely nothing to do with your revelations.

I had shared in my previous letter my loath for our nobility and its obsession with crests and, to me, you are the perfect victim of the repercussions such a system can cause. I can tell it has forced you into an existence of misery and I feel deep empathy for my lady. Somebody significant to me has suffered the consequences of this twisted crest system, so it is a cause dear to my heart. I understand your burden has forced you to seek refuge into an unconventional form of socialization. I hope I can become a source of comfort to you eventually, the same way Dorte is.

Yours, truly.

B."

Twelfth of the Harpstring Moon

Hubert was absently listening to professor Eisner give the afternoon lecture, his mind focussed more on attempting to size her up rather than absorbing the words coming out of her mouth. 

The last few weeks had been an absolute turmoil, unprecedented outcomes occurring one after the other. 

First, their plan had failed miserably, her Highness almost dying in the process. Kostas had been a wild card, his actions reckless. The choice of this buffoon to chase down and terrorize their previous teacher as well as the other two lords had been his and he felt remorse for failing Lady Edelgard so pitifully. During the pursuit, Jeralt Eisner and his battalion of mercenaries had appeared out of the blue to save the day, one of which, Jeralt’s own daughter, had rescued Lady Edelgard from impending doom. After disposing of the thieves, the three lords and the troop of mercenaries had all returned to Garreg Mach. By some inexplicable means, a few hours later and to everyone's surprise, Rhea had appointed this complete stranger, a mercenary woman of dubious origin, to be their new teacher instead of Jeritza von Hrym as her Highness and himself had carefully planned. 

This series of misadventures finally settled down to a quieter cadence, to the present day as he listened to the woman teaching their class about history on this quiet afternoon of the Harpstring Moon. 

He evaluated she could not be more than one year his senior, if she was not actually younger than him. It was difficult to assess given her physique and the story her father had related. He questioned whether or not she even possessed knowledge on the topics she was teaching them while reading aloud to the class the content of her textbook. Chances are, she was probably learning it on the fly…

Nothing about the situation or this professor made any sense to Hubert. Yet, unlike him, everybody was captivated by this mysterious woman. He felt as the only one that still possessed a shred of common sense in this farce of an Academy. 

And what to say of Lady Edelgard, even she had been ecstatic by this new turn of events, displaying the same enthusiastic fascination for the woman as everybody else, if not even deeper in her delusions. To say he was in a state of panic over it was an understatement. Having the Death Knight as their teacher was the only eventuality that fit into their plan. This new professor could endanger the grand scheme they had masterfully and meticulously prepared. Had her Highness lost her mind? She had been so engrossed with the mysterious woman that she immediately became her Highness' sole subject of conversation. Soon enough, he was concerned she would come to the foolish conclusion that the professor could become an ally to their ambitions. 

Hubert had been tasked by his liege to investigate their professor. Regardless of Lady Edelgard's order, he would have dug up information on the woman of his own volition. Ultimately, she was a threat and in order to neutralize a threat, one must properly assess it first.

Hubert reflected on how little time this had left him to correspond with his beloved as he caught the last words their teacher spoke before the bells tolled to indicate the end of the day.

"One last thing before I let you go, I need volunteers for group tasks." Byleth stated with assurance. Her confidence was remarkable for how unfit she was for the position. "Hanneman and Manuela asked me to find two volunteers for activities within the monastery that are good for group cohesion, but also to help you get acquainted with the students from the other classes. And it's a good way to responsibilize you, especially for those that think those menial tasks are above them." She carried on, addressing nobody in particular. "They will find two volunteers from each of their classes as well," she looked down at her note on her desk as she continued. "It seems I was presented with the following two choices: help with maintenance in the stable and weeding in the courtyard by the classrooms. It looks like Marianne von Edmund has already volunteered for stable duty, but nobody has given their name for weeding duty yet."

"I'll volunteer for stable duty," a sinister voice resonated from the back of the room.

All heads turned to look at the source of the voice in shock, none other than Hubert von Vestra. "Group cohesion" and “responsibilizing students” were unquestionably not subjects anybody expected Hubert to prioritize in his choices of activities.

To Hubert, for such an opportunity to magically fall on his lap was a blessing, he seized his chance in a heartbeat. Having an excuse to interact with his dearest face to face certainly beat being exclusively her anonymous confidant. 

"Well, color me surprised," Byleth interjected, her deadpan tone clashing with the words coming out of her mouth. "Hubert for stable duty. Great! Who will be volunteering for weeding duty then?"

The sound of students mingling outside covered the silence permeating their classroom.

"Bernadetta, now that we have Hubert volunteering for an activity, why don't you follow his example and volunteer as well?” Byleth asked candidly. “It would be beneficial for you to spend some time outside of your room when there are no classes."

"B-but..." Bernadette objected, terrorized at the idea of having to spend any second of her existence with a complete stranger.

"I'm putting down Bernadetta for weeding duty," Byleth continued, ignoring her. "Perfect! Thank you, that will be all. Class dismissed!"

Seventeeth of the Harpstring Moon

Hubert stood by the stables, trying to control his nerves before making his entrance to meet his beloved. So far, courting Lady Edmund through the written word had barely been a challenge. He had control over the situation: his character could be embellished to his needs and his words could be pondered over before being poured on paper. In writing, he could be the opposite of himself: a chivalrous noble that only had her best interest at heart. 

True hardship would be required to keep his acerbic nature in check when conversing in person. Being charming was rarely an attribute used to describe him… Lady Edmund could easily be put off by him… or worse, scared…

Ultimately, Hubert only had two facets to his personality: on one end, he was utterly polished and polite as a vassal of the Hresvelg family, and on the other end, he was curt, sardonic, derisive and threatening as a defense mechanism. Two polar opposites lacking a middle ground. He had never learned to conduct himself in a proper, genuine and affable way. It had never been a necessity, up until that point. He figured the former was more appropriate with Lady Edmund than the latter…

Finally mustering the courage to act, Hubert crossed the doorway to the stable and found Marianne already at work cleaning stalls.

"Good afternoon," he bowed, standing a few feet from her, "I was asked to assist you with stable duties today."

She looked at him paralyzed, her silence deafening.

Great start…

"I'm Hubert von Vestra, a student of the Black Eagles."

"Um, M-Marianne von Edmund, Golden Deers," Marianne stuttered, her voice barely above a whisper and her gaze set on the ground under him.

Well, she can speak it seems… And she is twice as adorable when she opens her mouth…

"What can I do to assist you?"

"Um, I don't need help," she stammered weakly.

"Pardon?"

"You can leave," she continued, fidgeting nervously with the handle of the bedding fork in her hands.

"I…" Hubert was rarely rendered speechless, but even he had to concede, this was one swift dismissal…

"Um, it's just… T-the other students, they typically let me take care of stable duties on my own."

"Well I've given my words to my homeroom teacher that I would assist with stable duties," he insisted, unwilling to admit defeat just yet.

"I-it's ok, I won't tell her if you leave," she admitted, hugging the handle as she finally mustered the courage to look him in the eyes.

As her insecure gaze fixed his determined one, Hubert's heart battered loudly in his chest, the softness in her brown eyes giving him the incentive to stand his ground.

"No, I mean, I want to uphold my end of the bargain. Is my presence making you feel uncomfortable?" he asked, more to satiate his curiosity than to be considerate.

"N-no… I don't mean that. I'm just used to doing it on my own."

Hubert was dismayed by how overwhelmingly timid and reclusive she was. Whatever foolish idiocies had been crammed into her head regarding her crest and its powers, it had shaped her into a husk of a person… His heart ached at this image of her terrified to communicate with anybody. Or perhaps he was the one terrorizing her?

"I would be honored if you let me help you, Lady Edmund," he stated politely.

Marianne frowned, puzzled by the man standing in front of her. No other student had ever addressed her in this fashion… Could he be…?

"Um, ok…" she finally abdicated.

"I saw that you were cleaning the hay and bedding from the stalls, would you like help with those tasks?"

"S-sure…" 

She handed him the bedding fork she was holding on to dear life this whole time. 

"Y-you just need to gather the soiled hay and bedding into that crate over there. The staff will empty it later," she pointed to a corner of the room. "Once you're done cleaning, you need to give them fresh hay. Um, do you need help with how to use the fork?"

Hubert stifled a chuckle. 

"No, I'm well aware of how one operates such a basic tool," the derision in his tone was difficult to miss.

"I-I'm sorry…" she stammered, lowering her eyes to fix her hands in embarrassment.

Imbecile… Don't act arrogant and scornful with her…

"Thank you, Lady Edmund. I appreciate your thoughtfulness. I'll finish cleaning the stalls," he course-corrected, the formality in his voice a smidge too unnatural.

Marianne nodded and observed Hubert tackle his chore. With the horses fed and cleaning underway, the only remaining task was to brush their manes. One by one, Marianne doted on each horse, keeping her favorite for last. 

Hubert watched from the corner of his eyes as she carefully brushed the chestnut mare in the stall next to him, her movements delicate and affectionate. A tinge of jealousy coursed through him, the silly wish of being a horse whose mane was being stroked by her deft fingers crossing his mind.

Once Marianne reached the seal brown stallion further down the stable, she lit up, a warm smile dancing on her features. 

"Isn't it a lovely day today, Dorte?" she asked the horse gleefully, her demeanor miles away from the shyness she demonstrated with Hubert a few minutes ago. "The sun is so bright and shiny. The birds are chirping cheerfully."

Dorte snorted, then nudged Marianne affectionately with his head.

She giggled. "That's right, you know what I mean!" 

Focussed on caring for her favorite, Marianne failed to notice the presence looming behind her, a man often referred to as a shadow.

"I finished my task," a deep voice reverberated from behind. 

Marianne shrieked, startled. In her frenzy, her balance faltered, her right foot giving up under her. As she tripped, ready to crash on the ground, two strong hands gripped her shoulders to keep her steady.

Her back brushed against the front of Hubert's uniform as he helped her regain her footing. A whiff of her scent reached his nostrils, a perfect balance of sweetness and floral notes, the most divine perfume he had ever inhaled. She felt so close, yet so far. Had he been less than a stellar gentleman, he would have encircled her with his arms and guided his mouth to the tempting hollow of her neck.

"My apologies, Lady Edmund. I didn't mean to frighten you."

"I-it's ok… It's my fault anyway," she sighed. "It's always my fault…" she trailed off.

Recovering from her momentary scare, Marianne withdrew from his hold and regained some composure as she turned around. Her eyes fixed her hands as embarrassment overwhelmed her, her companion as quiet as her.

"Is there anything else that we need to do?" Hubert asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

“Um, I think that's everything for today. I had already started before your arrival.”

“Very well. I hope I was not a burden to you, Lady Edmund.”

“Oh… No, no! Y-You were very helpful. T-Thank you very much, Hubert," she stated, a timid smile on her features.

Hubert's breath hitched in his throat. The way his name rolled out of her mouth was pure bliss. He nodded slowly, repressing his enchantment so it would not be noticeable.

“I understand that you volunteer for stable duties regularly?” he asked, his voice lacking some of its usual restrained luster.

“Yes, I do it every other day.”

“Perhaps we will see each other again then.”

“O-ok," she stammered nervously.

“Good day, Lady Edmund,” he bowed.

“Goodbye," she nodded shyly.

Hubert exited the stable as a sigh escaped his nostrils. The feeling of defeat encompassing him was stifling.

“What a stellar impression I must have left…” he thought bitterly to himself as he walked towards the dormitories.

Chapter Text

Thirty-first of the Harpstring Moon  

"Dear B,

Thank you very much for the bouquet of Lily of the Valley left with your last letter. I have proudly displayed them in my room on my desk. Having the pleasure of enjoying their delicate scent every morning when I wake up has been such a treat. I felt silly confiding in you that I adored the smell of those flowers when I used to walk through my adoptive father's garden, only to have you make use of that information to spoil me with such a wonderful surprise. You have been nothing but the most supportive friend. I hope that, in return, my correspondence has lived up to your expectations.

Perhaps you could share with me something that you enjoy so that I can surprise you with a treat of my own. Do you like sweets? Or do you prefer salty food? What about your favorite flavor of tea? I am not very skilled in a kitchen, but I can handle certain easier recipes. When it is my turn for kitchen duty, people seem to enjoy the food I cook. I would love to cook something for you.

Thank you again for being a wonderful confidant,

Marianne"

Hubert painfully hobbled through the monastery's corridor, using his liege as support to maneuver. It was late and the journey from the Red Canyon had been laborious to say the least. Like a fledgling, he had sustained a massive injury during their mission, one that required more than Linhardt's lazy faith magic to be properly mended. A deep gash that cut through muscles crossed both his right bicep, part of his chest as well as his left thigh, the worst of the damage on his upper body. 

Kostas and his troop of nitwitted ruffians had to be a nuisance until the very end it seemed. At some point during the fight in the treacherous canyon, he had the dreadful feeling that one of the thieves had recognized him. Be it his imposing posture or his threatening demeanor, one of them had eyed him strangely as if they knew who he was. He had taken all of the necessary precautions when he had hired the band of thieves, at no point had his face or any sign that would make him identifiable been shown to them, yet, something had felt amiss in the way this man glanced at him.  

In his panic to resolve the situation posthaste, he had put his own safety at risk as he tried to silence the man with a bout of Miasma, the purple cloud swallowing the man alive. It had almost cost him his life, however, as another thief had charged Hubert from his right side, the man's iron axe unleashed upon him, tearing through his flesh. Had it not been for Professor Byleth that had disposed of the miscreant in one swift slash of her sword, he may be dead now.

Edelgard bolstered him as he climbed each step of the monastery’s stairs laboriously, an excruciating pain shooting through his entire body with each movement. Why the infirmary was on the second floor of the monastery was a mystery to him. Another logistically sound decision from the administrators of this forsaken place. His only desire at the moment was to find his bed, apply his own incompetent faith magic and bandages to his wounds and slumber for days. However, Lady Edelgard had insisted on bringing him to the infirmary to properly treat his injuries.

Self-loathing and embarrassment were the only feelings dwelling within at the moment. Committing such a rookie mistake was out of character for him. Perhaps his favorite source of distraction was affecting his capacity to fulfill his duties properly. 

"Lady Edelgard, I assure you, there is no need to burden yourself with my well-being, I can reach the infirmary on my own,” Hubert grumbled as he climbed the last stair.

"I hope you’re not seriously thinking I will fall for that, Hubert,” she stated in disbelief. “I know you, if I don't bring you there myself, somehow you'll try to treat your wounds on your own, and end up maimed just because you did not want to lose any precious time going to the infirmary... This needs to be handled by true professionals."

"As if Manuela could be considered professional…" he muttered under his breath. "Your Highness, it is only a gash, I’m perfectly capable of treating those wounds myself."

"Enough, Hubert,” she chided him impatiently. “I'm bringing you to the infirmary and that's the end of it."

"Yes, Lady Edelgard," he finally adjudicated.

As they crossed the doorway of the infirmary, Hubert’s heart hitched. Marianne von Edmund was standing by the shelves in a corner of the room, organizing medical supplies. 

A mix of panic and excitement washed over him. Their previous encounter had left him feeling deflated. Showing up to the infirmary drenched in his own blood and irritable from the agonizing pain he had to endure for hours would not provide the best occasion to make a proper “second impression”. It was hardly his idea of a romantic encounter. Yet, the notion of her delicate and soft hands tending to his wounds was exhilarating. His mouth suddenly felt dry, the excruciating pain entirely forgotten.

"Oh dear, what do we have here? That is a horrible injury, how did that happen?" Manuela questioned him, stupefied.

"Professor Manuela, Hubert really needs your assistance, he got slashed by an axe and the wounds are pretty deep. Linhardt tried his best to fix him, but I believe he needs more than faith magic…" Edelgard explained to the professor.

In his enthrallment for his beloved, Hubert had failed to notice Manuela's presence. Now that she was a mere foot from him, her breath reeking of alcohol, she was hard to overlook. Manuela examined his wounds through the torn clothes soaked in blood, pulling on the fabric to better assess the gravity of the situation. Hubert hissed at the sudden jolt of pain.

"Marianne, would you come help me with this?" Manuela called for Marianne.

Marianne had avoided the commotion until now. She joined the group, recognizing Hubert and her Highness, and smiled gently at both, too timid to articulate any words.

"Prepare him, my dear, like I showed you how to and then I will stitch him up."

"But…" Marianne protested, lacking confidence in her own abilities.

"No buts! You can do it, come on!" Manuela encouraged her. "Marianne is my best student when it comes to faith magic and medicine, you are in good hands," the woman gloated at the imperial princess and her vassal.

Hubert wondered if the professor truly meant those words or if she was simply lazy and had wished to dump the work on her own student to give herself enough time to recover from her inebriated state. It made no difference, the only hands he wanted on his body to mend his wounds were the ones of his beloved.

"I have no doubts," Hubert said confidently as he nodded at Marianne, his eyes bore into hers. 

A faint blush covered Marianne's cheeks for a split second.

"P-please, follow me," the girl stuttered weakly.

Marianne guided them to one of the beds, as Hubert followed behind, his arm still draped over Edelgard’s shoulders for support. Her highness lent him her hands to clutch as he sat on the bed laboriously.

"Lady Edelgard, you may leave now. I'm in the infirmary, I'm not going anywhere," promised Hubert.

"Very well,” Edelgard agreed. “Will he need to spend the night here?" she asked Marianne.

"Um, I guess," Marianne responded with reserve.

"I will be back tomorrow, Hubert. Please, try to get some rest," Edelgard pleaded to him out of concern for her friend.

“Thank you, Lady Edelgard,” Hubert nodded to his liege, appreciative of her thoughtfulness.

Hubert observed Lady Edelgard exit the infirmary, then immediately redirected his attention to his beloved. The man was almost a foot taller than Marianne; even if he was currently sitting down, all she needed was to lean forward slightly for their heads to be at the same level. Had he desired, it would only require a few inches for him to close the gap between the two and steal a kiss. As her eyes studied the wounds, his were planted on her delicate features, marveling at their beauty from such a close distance. 

"Are you in pain?" she asked nervously, her voice a weak murmur. Her timidity was apparent and adding to the already unbearable weight of her new responsibilities.

His first instinct almost led him to snap a sardonic retort out of sheer habits. Had it been Ferdinand or any of his other classmates in front of him, they would have been dismissed with "I was almost maimed and I'm gushing blood all over my clothes. Of course it’s painful..." spoken in his usual derisive tone. However, antagonizing the woman he had been venerating for the last two months seemed like a poor avenue to pursue.

“Indeed, very painful,” he affirmed calmly. 

A hiss escaped his lips as she carefully lifted the torn fabric embedded into his own flesh.

"I-I'm sorry…" she muttered as she retracted her hands against her chest, trepidation sneaking into her voice.

"No need to be. I'm prepared for the pain," he reassured her.

For a moment, Marianne stared at his wounds, fidgeting with the shredded fabric of his uniform, a frown forming on her brows. A few intolerably long minutes passed, the only sounds permeating the room were the ones of Manuela’s soft snores as she had fallen asleep on her desk chair. Marianne was appearing to struggle to muster the courage to speak up.

“I… Um…” the words stubbornly refused to come out. “I think your wounds are too large, I need you to remove your, um, y-your uniform…” she stuttered, her cheeks turning a fiery crimson, her eyes firmly planted on her hands to avoid his gaze. “I can't clean and heal you properly with it in the way…”

“Understandably so,” he stated, not without acknowledging the shakiness in his own voice. It was difficult to hear with the loud battering of his heart in his chest, the uncontrollable thumps echoing in his eardrums. “I may need your help,” he stated meekly, his tone miles from its usual assertiveness.

“Y-yes,” she nodded vigorously as if to clear the blush from her face.

Seconds that stretched into an eternity passed before Marianne could expulse any words out of her mouth.

“I will unbutton your jacket now,” she stuttered weakly.

“Would you like me to try to help you with my unwounded arm?”

“Um, no. I… I can manage,” she stated, her words clashing with the lack of confidence in her voice.

“Understood.”

As her hands fiddled with the buttons of his jacket, the situation felt singularly intimidating. He yearned for the day those same circumstances could be replicated in a more intimate setting. Perhaps they would be in his dormitory room, or hers. In his fantasy, her soft brown eyes would be locked with his own as she undressed him.

The light of the candles surrounding the room gave her skin an angelic glow, reinforcing his sentiment this turn of events was either blissful luck or some kind of divine intervention. Her pale blue hair had a lavender hue from the faint lighting, complementing the light brown of her irises shimmering with red undertones. Her rose lips had a glossy sheen to them, further enhancing their enticing appearance. He felt like the male protagonist of those silly romance novels his younger sister used to read as he studied her beauty.

Once every button of his jacket was undone, Marianne stood there motionless, dithering about how to take charge of the situation. It finally snapped Hubert back to reality. He tried to wiggle his good arm free from the sleeve without much success.

“It's ok, I-I can help with that too…” she said, her voice quivery.

Marianne had to lean closer against Hubert to fully remove his jacket. Some of the flyaway hair of her braids and bun brushed against his cheeks as she pulled on the sleeve of his uninjured arm. Her body in close proximity, a whiff of her perfume enwrapped him. The smell was as intoxicating as it had been the first time, all the more as a subtle hint of a particular flower could be detected mixed in this time around. 

Hubert jolted and groaned in pain as Marianne tugged on the other sleeve, abruptly reminded that staring at her beauty had not magically healed his wounded arm.

“I-I’m sorry…” she muttered.

“No need to apologize, Lady Edmund.”

After disposing of his uniform, Marianne hesitated a moment, staring at his white shirt, realizing the man would end up shirtless in her presence once they proceeded any further. A peachy tinge colored her flustered cheeks as the realization hit her.

“I can unbutton this shirt myself,” he stated, coming to her rescue.

Once all buttons were undone, Marianne approached him once again to dispose of the shirt for him. Her body dangerously close, Hubert wondered if she could hear the turbulent beat of his heart. Her fingers grazed his skin every so often as she took off the garment, forcing him to hold his breath to ensure no wanton sound would escape his lips. 

Sitting there with his chest bare, his own cheeks developed an obvious red tint he imagined she could discern. In truth, his body had never been a source of shame. He was no Caspar or that burly Golden Deer student, but he still looked acceptably fit just by the sheer amount of training and assignments imposed on his body on a daily basis. Multiple scars, gained on those occasions, adorned his skin, another sign of his devotion to Lady Edelgard. Nevertheless, it was nerve wracking to have the object of his desire stare at his half naked body when he had yet to taste her lips or cup her cheeks with his hands.

Marianne proceeded with the next step, focusing on her tasks rather than the fact her schoolmate and herself were both mortified by the absurdity of the situation. She assessed his leg before briefing him in. 

Hubert observed her fiddling with his trouser. If removing them was a necessary measure, he thought his heart might cease to beat from the absolute embarrassment.

“Um, I think the wound on your thigh is milder. Would you mind if I cut some of the fabric of your pants to get better access?”
“Do what needs to be done, Lady Edmund,” he stated calmly, relief washing over him.

Marianne gathered the necessary tools before joining him back, kneeling by his side. His pants were cut meticulously to avoid causing him any further pain. A gauze was soaked in a clear liquid and brushed gently against his multiple wounds to clean the blood. There was a precision in her movements, a self-confidence he had never seen her display in the past. Manuela had gloated about her prowesses and Marianne was proving her right. Observing her exhibit anything other than timidity and self-deprecation was a rare sight to behold and Hubert felt honored bearing witness to such a moment.

Rising from the floor, Marianne took a solid stance and hovered over Hubert. 

“I will heal you now. P-please be still,” despite the assurance in her words and movements, her voice was still quivering. 

Her hand was placed gently against his chest, under his right clavicle where the deepest wound rested. Steadying her breath, Marianne closed her eyes and focused on casting the healing spell. A golden light shimmered at her fingertips and traveled to his wound. A bluish glow slowly enveloped his chest while a warmth swelled from her hand. The pain subsided as she continued to direct the gleam of her faith magic towards his injury.

Hubert closed his eyes as a soothing sensation engulfed him. The experience was exquisite, a mix between a comforting warmth and a refreshing coolness. Perhaps this was the result of her gift for healing, or perhaps this was the consequence of his unhealthy obsession with her. Nevertheless, the feeling was overwhelming.

His eyes were reopened to seize this once in a lifetime opportunity. Details of her complexion he could neither observe from a distance, nor from his earlier perusal could finally be admired. He drank in every distinctive feature about her as she was focused on her task, eyes still closed. How the tip of her ears was slightly rosier than the rest of the appendage, how short fine periwinkle hair covered the nape of her neck, how two small beauty marks adorned the left side of her neck. Her skin looked flawless, pale with a faint pinkish tint. All he desired was to raise one ungloved hand and run his calloused fingers over the tempting skin, taking in all of its softness and warmth. 

Marianne moved from wound to wound on his body applying her faith magic. As she pursued her assignment, Hubert's compulsive stare bore holes into her, absorbing a maximum of information so he could daydream of every detail once this moment was over. His behavior left him with an aftertaste of patheticness and shame. If she were to open her eyes, even the perfunctory relationship they currently shared would shatter to pieces.

How would she react if he dared to caress her skin? Or if he leaned slightly and pressed his lips against hers? 

She would be terrified... You have exchanged nothing more than a handful of words with the girl, and you terrorize people with your simple presence... Yet you think she would be receptive to your touch? Don't be a simpleton and behave properly…

Once the warmth of the faith magic unexpectedly stopped coursing through his body, Hubert’s heart tinged, the sudden realization this unforeseen opportunity was over hitting him.

“O-Ok, you should be ready for stitching. I will go get professor Manuela,” she announced softly.

“Thank you, Lady Edmund,” he nodded politely.

Hubert watched as Marianne shook her professor gently to wake her up. The woman moaned her disapproval, clearly still under the influence of whatever cheap wine she had gulped down earlier. 

“Professor, I got him ready like you asked me to.”

“Thank you, dear. I'll take care of it,” she finally replied, her voice still groggy.

For a moment, Hubert questioned her abilities in her current state to perform the work of precision required to stitch his wounds. Manuela proved him wrong as the intervention proceeded without a hitch. The only unpleasant element of the operation was the sting of the needle piercing through his flesh. Marianne stood by her professor the entire time, observing her technique with a fascination, seemingly unbothered by the bloodiness and messiness of the whole ordeal. Once done, Manuela offered Hubert a strange liquid.

“Drink this. It will help with the pain and with sleep,” she stated as she handed him the cup. “Can you stand guard for the night, dear?” she asked as she stood up and turned to Marianne. “I'll go back to my room.”

“Um, ok…” Marianne reluctantly agreed, visibly unsettled by this prospect.

“You’ll be just fine, dear, I’m sure of it,” she reassured her student. “If his state worsens or his wounds fester, ask the guard on post by the archbishop’s summoning chamber to come get me.”

Marianne nodded, praying to the Goddess nothing dire would occur in her professor’s absence.

The singing of crickets could be heard in the distance as Hubert lied in the infirmary’s bed, eyes wide open. Marianne was sleeping quietly in the bed to his left, the tucked sheets of the bed still intact and her academy uniform still on. The only piece of clothing she had removed were her boots sitting at the foot of the bed. Earlier, she had inquired if he required any water or Vulnerary before laying down on the bed and collapsing from exhaustion.

Marianne had been sound asleep for the past hour and Hubert had spent every second of this precious stretch of time staring obsessively at her. Within a few minutes, the only remaining candle still lit in the room would die, leaving him in complete darkness. He was hoping the moonlight would filter through the windows and provide sufficient illumination as he had no intention to bring an end to his incessant gazing. Sleep had almost overtaken him on a few instances, yet he fought against it vehemently every time.

A foolish idea had crossed his mind earlier and he was still debating whether he should refrain from risking a catastrophe or act on his impulse. The last remaining candle extinguished at long last leaving him to cogitate in the dark. The moonlight gave her an ethereal appearance, transforming her into an irresistible temptation and urging him to fulfill his desire.

Hubert sat up on his bed and used the wall as solace to prop himself on his legs and stand up. He hobbled painfully towards the bed in front of him, approaching the object of his obsession. Hovering over the bed, Hubert proceeded to kneel on the floor, pursing his lips tightly to muffle any groans of pain.

Lying on her side, Marianne’s chest was rising and falling at a steady cadence, her features relaxed. She was all the more stunning thanks to the peaceful look on her face. Hubert drank in the rare sight, her expression usually one of worry and self-doubt.

The gravity of his infatuation hit him as he stayed immobile, gawking at her like a scummy predator. He was gambling his reputation and position as a student of this academy by acting on his impulse, yet, controlling himself appeared to be impossible at this very moment. When it came to her, he seemed to lose his wits and act rashly, contrasting with his usual calculating and strategist nature.

His fingers raised and stroked the strand of hair that would usually frame her face, letting the tips of fingers graze the skin of her cheek underneath. He observed her for a moment, verifying his actions had not awoken her. The curtain of raven hair covering the right side of his face was pulled back behind his right ear so his next move would not cause his hair to rub against her. Bending over, his nose was brought to the hollow of her neck, the tip of it brushing against the supple skin. 

Closing his eyes, Hubert inhaled deeply, savoring the sublime scent emanating from her neck. From this close a distance, its qualities were enhanced ten-fold, captivating him with its sweet, fruity and floral notes and a savory hint of bitterness. That floral scent he had detected earlier, he recognized it at last: Lily of the Valley. Perhaps it was the bouquet of those flowers he had offered her a few days ago that had left this unfamiliar trace in her perfume. 

The faint breeze of his exhalation caressed Marianne’s skin softly, causing her to moan in response. Hubert’s eyes were reopened in a panic, his head jerked backward in an instant. His eyes narrowed, studying any signs of awareness on her features. A sigh of relief escaped his nostrils once he realized she was still sound asleep.

One of her arms was resting by her head, her hand slightly dangling over the edge of the bed. Feeling brazen, Hubert took the hand in his, letting his thumb caress the back of it, appreciating the softness of her skin to its full extent.

If this gesture was to wake her up, and she realized he was touching her without her consent, it would be over. This event would scar her, killing any chance he may have possessed to seduce her. Not that he truly believed there was even an infinitesimal chance… 

Pushing the limit to its maximum, Hubert guided his mouth to her hand and pressed his thin lips gently against it. Another faint moan escaped her own lips as she nodded, her face rubbing against the sheet. His heart skipped a beat, melting at the sight, his captivation boundless. Eyes locked on her, his lips lingered on her hand, experiencing the intoxicating taste for the first time.

At long last and begrudgingly, he pulled himself away from her, the risk of getting caught increasing with every passing minute. Gawkily, his bed was retrieved, his heart heavy from having to quash this exhilarating opportunity.

From the comfort of his bed, Hubert’s gaze was returned to his beloved. Still determined to stretch this night into eternity, he once again pushed away the sleepiness enveloping him. This may possibly be the only moment of intimacy he would ever share with her, he could not let it come to an end.

First of the Garland Moon

The faint sound of conversation traveled to Hubert’s ears as he regained consciousness. The bright light of the morning sun blinded him as his eyes opened slowly. In spite of his effort to spend the night fully awake to admire the object of his desire, sleep had claimed him eventually.

By the doorframe stood Professor Manuela, Edelgard and Marianne discussing in a low voice, no doubt trying not to disturb his beauty sleep.

Hubert sat up in his bed, satisfied to observe the pain from his wounds had subsided considerably, with the exception of an uncomfortable pang as he moved his body. He noticed a neatly folded pile of clothes had been placed at the end of his bed. 

“Hubert, you're awake!” Edelgard declared, relief seeping into her voice.

“Lady Edelgard,” he bowed, still sitting on his bed, to stop a second later, wincing as he realized he would need to avoid such movements for a time.

“Careful, dear. You will need to avoid any sharp movements for a few days,” Manuela warned him. “I brought you a new uniform, yours had to be thrown away.”

“Thank you,” Hubert answered politely in his usual ominous voice.

“I came to see how you were doing. Professor Manuela was telling me your injuries should heal quickly and there should not be any long term effects. I was relieved to hear that,” Edelgard stated.

“Lady Edelgard, you must not worry yourself over me. This was simply a minor setback,” 

“Professor Manuela said you must rest for a few days. I hope you will listen to her, Hubert,” Edeldard lectured him, wishing for him to heed someone’s advice for once.

“Of course, your Highness.”

Hubert grabbed the clothes on his bed, ready to leave this place and resume his academic life and duties.

“We should examine your wounds before you leave,” Manuela explained before turning to Marianne. “Marianne, you’ll assist me.”

“O-ok, professor.”

“You have done far enough already. It is time for me to take my leave,” Hubert’s voice was firm.

“Surely there is nothing more pressing than your health right now, Hubert,” interjected Edelgard.

Hubert sighed at his liege’s words, admitting defeat. The professor approached him, Marianne at her heels. 

“We need to change his dressing and verify that the wounds are not getting infected,” Manuela explained to Marianne.

“Oh.”

“I want you to take care of it, dear.”

“O-ok,” Marianne agreed reluctantly.

Marianne approached her schoolmate and started removing each bandage. Stoic until now, Hubert suddenly winced as she pulled a tad too harshly on one of the gauzes that had adhered to the wound. 

“Um, am I hurting you?” she asked sheepishly.

“No need to worry, Lady Edmund,” Hubert encouraged her.

Once all wounds were undressed, Manuela studied them for any sign of infection or rupture.

“Excellent, everything looks clean and is healing well!” hummed Manuela. “I want you to clean his wounds, cast a healing spell and apply new bandages,” she ordered Marianne.

“Yes, professor.”

Marianne tackled the task with the same assurance she had displayed the night before. More substances were applied to his injuries, to disinfect his lashes and accelerate the healing process. Her fingers grazed his skin delicately, causing his heart to race involuntarily, bringing back everything he felt the night before.

Hubert admired her as she attended to his wounds and administered her faith magic, the warmth of her spell as entrancing as it had been the night before. This would be the last time to relish this opportunity that providence had gifted him. Last night upon entering the infirmary, shame and guilt were heavy on his heart. Yet, this morning, he was delighted by the turn of events. His mind traveled down a dark path, wishing he could injure himself again just to end up in her care a second time.

“We're almost done,” Marianne reassured him as she finished casting her spell.

“Take your time, Lady Edmund,” he complied, his voice soothing.

All wounds were dressed carefully, putting an end to this peculiar encounter. His heart heavy, Hubert slipped into his new uniform and joined Edelgard standing by the door. Turning around to face his beloved, he dispensed proper gratitude.

“Thank you, Lady Edmund, for your exceptional care,” he praised her, soft-spoken, contrasting with his usual contemptuousness displayed towards his other classmates.

“Um, it was my pleasure,” she answered, looking at her hands.

“Will I be seeing you this Saturday for stable duty?” he asked, hopefulness seeping into his voice.

“Y-yes.”

“Excellent. Goodbye, Lady Edmund,” he bowed his head politely. “Professor Manuela,” he forced himself to greet her as well.

Greetings and gratitude exchanged, the princess and her liege finally left the infirmary. Edelgard walked by her most trusted ally, an unnerving suspicion refusing to vanish quietly to the back of her mind. Once they reached a corner of the monastery with no prying ears around, she finally asked the question that was burning her lips.

"Hubert, is Marianne von Edmund the reason you've been distracted lately?" Edelgard asked, slowing down her pace.

Surprise crossed Hubert's features for a split second, which Edelgard caught a glimpse of. He recovered swiftly, his sardonic demeanor resurfacing in an instant.

"What made you believe such a ludicrous idea, Lady Edelgard?" he asked with an arrogant smirk.

"I saw the way you looked at her,” she declared as she turned to face him, putting an end to their walk.

Hubert eyed her, eyebrows furrowed. Yes, Lady Edmund had a tendency to make him act like a foolish infatuated teenager, but he was still convinced that, to most eyes, his inclination towards her was not so plain to see… 

"And in what way do I look at the girl?" he asked nonchalantly, his left eyebrow cocked.

"Hubert, I'm not saying that you acted like a besotted fool in her presence. But I've known you since childhood. I can detect subtle differences in your behavior that most people would not notice,” she stated softly. “And, I've never seen you look at a woman the way that you eyed her…" she sighed, slightly uncomfortable with the subject of this discussion.

"I see…" Hubert’s eyes narrowed as he listened to her, visibly irritated, mostly at himself, by this turn of events. 

"Can I trust that this won't affect your capacities to fulfill your duties?" she asked before smiling sympathetically. Affronting her friend would be an undesirable outcome to this conversation. She simply wished for him to be prudent.

"Lady Edelgard, you have my words that, whatever my inclination towards Marianne von Edmund is, I would never let it endanger our plan. I am devoted to your cause more than ever. You have nothing to worry about."

"Good,” she nodded firmly in agreement. “We are finally getting close to our goal, we can't get distracted now."

"Indeed,” he concurred.

Hubert reflected on the situation as he walked silently alongside her Highness. It was troublesome how easily she had detected his disposition towards Marianne von Edmund. Naively, he thought he was being very cautious. Nobody should be able to expose his affliction for the girl, not even a person as close to him as her Highness. If this affected his credibility to Lady Edelgard, he would have to put a stop to this silly infatuation.

Chapter Text

“Dear Lady Edmund,

It warms my heart to know that those flowers have made you happy. I feel elated at the idea of my present brightening your every morning.

I would not want my lady to burden herself with the responsibility of offering me a gift. Each letter you take the time to meticulously compose to my attention is a present in itself. 

However, if we are on the subject of sharing our favorite food, I have to confess, sweets are not my preference. I typically enjoy savory dishes over sweet ones. I had a few meals that I enjoyed from the monastery’s dining hall. Perhaps you were the cook on duty during one of these occasions? The two-fish sauté, as well as the sautéed pheasant and eggs are amongst my favorites dishes served here. And I also enjoy the spicy fish Dangos for those times that I desire a satisfying treat. Have you ever had any yourself? They remind me of a dish my mother used to cook for my sisters and I when I was younger.

As for tea, despite not entirely detesting certain types, I much prefer the taste of coffee. Are you familiar with the drink? I do not believe it is particularly popular in Fodlan. I am often the only one requesting it. There is nothing like the bitter aroma of a cup of coffee to start a day.

I implore you, do not misconstrue my sharing this information with you as an invitation to offer me a present.

Yours, truly.

B”

Seventh of the Garland Moon

Brushing the mane of the horses was Marianne’s favorite element of stable duty. Keeping her preferred activity for last made it all the more special; she could build up the excitement as she cleaned the stable and fed the horses. As the soiled hay and beddings were collected into a corner, Marianne absently reflected on her daily life at the monastery.

Despite a rocky start, she was steadily adapting to her new situation as an academy student. Against her better judgment, she had allowed some of her classmates to get closer to her and already developed a handful of kinships. Hilda Valentine Goneril seemed to fancy her, conversing with her unexpectedly ever since the first few days of the academic year. Her brazen attitude had grown on Marianne over time, even earning her admiration. Slothful with the other students, Hilda unwillingly came to Marianne’s rescue when she needed it most despite it being against her nature. 

Two other classmates had also garnered her attention: Raphael and Ignatz. One was comically focused on sharing her penchant to converse with birds while the other seemed desperate to brighten her mood.

The concern of harming those that formed a bond with her was never far away, and Marianne was keenly aware her freshly formed friendships could dissipate in an instant once they understood how dangerous she truly was. However, she no longer had the heart to voluntarily push those people away.

And what to say of her secret admirer writing her the most enchanting letters. The beginning of a romantic attachment was blossoming within her, despite recognizing only misery would arise from the situation in the end. They could never truly pursue an intimate relationship, the dangers were too great for him. Regardless, she cherished their exchanges. His earnest and insightful personality was unveiled to her with every letter, her admiration for him only growing. In return, he offered her a compassionate and thoughtful ear when she needed to unburden her worries and torments. They partook in lighter subjects as well, enjoying the frivolous chatter of monastery life. Her confidant was a blessing from the Goddess and a balm to her loneliness.

A rich voice unexpectedly resonated from behind Marianne, putting an end to her musings.

"Greetings, Lady Edmund."

Marianne squeaked, her blood curdling from the fright. Turning around to face the source of the sound, a sigh of relief escaped her mouth as she recognized her schoolmate.

"I seem to constantly frighten you, my lady. You have my apologies,” Hubert offered, contrite.

"Oh, um, no, it's my fault. I was just in my head,” she responded, abashed.

“Perhaps I shall announce myself loudly from the outside of the stable from now on to prepare you? Ruffles and flourishes included,” he declared, his mouth twisted into a half smirk.

“That won't be necessary,” she replied bashfully, the beginning of a smile forming on her lips.

Eyes lowered to her hands, Marianne stood silently as she faced her interlocutor. Her timidity was persisting, even after having seen him undressed. Perhaps it was precisely because she had seen his bare chest that it was even more arduous to now look him in the eyes.

"I’m here to offer my assistance for stable duties," Hubert broke the silence, extending his hand towards her so that she could offer him the bedding fork. Marianne made no motions to hand it to him however, instead fidgeting with the handle nervously.

"Um, how is your shoulder and arm? Did your wounds heal correctly?" she eventually mustered the courage to ask, her gaze shifting to his eyes.

"Yes, thanks to my lady, my wounds are almost entirely healed. The pain has subsided to a barely noticeable pinch."

"That's great news,” she stated with relief.

Swinging his arm around, Hubert demonstrated his range of movement to Marianne.

"I have almost all of my movements back thanks to you, Lady Edmund. You are truly a gifted healer,” he nodded graciously.

"Um, I'm glad I could help," she blushed vividly as her gaze averted to the ground again, compliments an offering she rarely accepted eagerly.

Her schoolmate stood stoically, his stare insistent as he swallowed with unease. To Marianne, he almost appeared dazed or in a strange state of bewilderment. Perhaps she was making the man feel uncomfortable? It must be the issue at hand. Ultimately, she was a burden to anybody that had the misfortune of coming in contact with her… Her company was as pleasant as the agony engendered from having to scrub the mess hall’s floor

“It's just the professor that insists that I assist her in the infirmary, I'm not particularly good at it,” she admitted in defeat, breaking the unbearable silence.

“I beg to differ, Lady Edmund,” Hubert interjected, recovering from his momentary lapse of concentration. “I would not have progressed so rapidly in my healing process had it not been for your invaluable help. The professor must have put her trust in you for a valid reason. Surely she sees potential in you, otherwise she would turn her attention to another student."

“I guess…” she reluctantly agreed.

Marianne’s gaze returned to her hands, mulling over his words. 

"Shall we begin?” Hubert asked, interrupting her contemplation. “Would you like me to clean the stalls the same as I did last time?"

"Oh, s-sure."

The bedding fork was shared and both parties tackled their respective tasks in silence. As she brushed the mane of each horse, Marianne reflected on her stable duty partner.

On their very first meeting, she had suspected Hubert to be her secret admirer. The strange way he had addressed her at the time and his manner of speech were reminiscent of her penfriend. Those same suspicions had vanished once she had witnessed him speaking with Edelgard von Hresvelg. The unusual politeness he had displayed towards her had also been employed with the imperial princess. It was conceivably the way he chose to conduct himself in the presence of his female classmates and she was not privy of any special treatment.

If the man currently attending to the horses was not her correspondent, what possessed him to turn up a second time for stable duty, despite her clear implication the first time that his presence was unnecessary? The two had exchanged nothing more than a few platitudes. Nobody chose to endure the hardship of her presence unless they were compelled to. It was likely professor Eisner that had insisted he undertake this extra curricular activity and this was the only remaining choice available.

A soft knock echoed behind Marianne. She spun around only to see Hubert stoically facing her a few feet away, his knuckles flush against the wood of a stall’s door.

“I was attempting to get your attention without frightening you, Lady Edmund,” he stated confidently.

“Oh. T-thank you,” she answered, grateful for the courtesy he extended her.

“The stable was cleaned and the horses were fed,” he announced impassively.

“Thank you.”

“Is there anything else you wish for me to do?”

“Um, no. I'll finish brushing the horses.”

“Excellent. Will I see you next week then?” he asked, yearning almost decipherable in his voice.

“Yes,”

“Good day, Lady Edmund,” he bowed.

“Goodbye, Hubert," she smiled timidly.

For a moment, Marianne was convinced she witnessed the beginning of a flush on his cheeks, but he was gone in an instant, her faithful Dorte suddenly her only companion.

Twenty-first of the Garland Moon

A few affectionate snorts were heard from Dorte as Marianne brushed its mane while Hubert was collecting the soiled hay and beddings from the ground. To say Hubert found merriment in this activity would be a lie, but he would endure the flames of hell if it meant spending any precious time with his beloved.

A certain routine had flourished over the course of the last few weeks. His stable duty partner was the main caretaker, while he was her aid, fulfilling any task she requested. She appeared acclimated to his presence by now; his mere existence no longer startled her. Verbal exchanges were kept to a minimum, not by choice but rather a consequence of their respective nature.

"Do you like horses, Hubert?" Marianne asked as she brushed Dorte, breaking the silence.

This question was tricky. Should he lie by fear of disappointing her or should he be honest and suffer the consequences?

"I cannot say that I am particularly inclined towards them,” he opted for the truth.

"Oh..." she muttered with a tinge of disillusionment in her voice.

Wrong choice...

"Perhaps it's simply because I have not been accustomed to them sufficiently. If I invest the proper time, I may learn to appreciate their soothing presence,” he course-corrected deftly.

"I-I'm sure you would! They are such gentle creatures!” she expressed enthusiastically. “Right, Dorte? How can somebody not love you? You're so stunning and graceful,” she declared as she redirected her attention to the buck and planted a tender kiss on its jaw. “Don’t you think, Hubert?" she unexpectedly questioned her schoolmate.

"Indeed, a beautiful creature!" Hubert uttered impulsively, his gaze fixated on the woman as he did, paying no mind to the actual subject of this conversation: Dorte. Marianne may have deciphered the subtle innuendo as a vivid crimson rose to her cheeks.

Smooth... Very smooth... 

The beginning of a wince formed on Hubert’s features as the implication of his flirtatious remark sank in.

“Perhaps if you showed me how to brush their mane properly, I may enjoy the activity,” he recovered swiftly, dissimulating his discomfort at his own brazenness.

“O-Ok,” she agreed, choosing to believe she misinterpreted his previous statement.

Retrieving a second brush from a nearby shelf, Marianne handed it to her stable partner. Her delicate hands manipulated Dorte's mane as she demonstrated the proper way to brush her equine friend. Hubert stood mere feet from his partner, stoic and attentive.

“You have to be careful to not pull on their mane too harshly. It will be full of small knots and snarls, that's normal,” she clarified, her enthusiasm as clear as water.

This jolly disposition made her all the more adorable, Hubert thought. Her unrestrained passion for horses was endearing.

“You want to start at the very tip of the mane, brushing gently, like this,” she continued as her hand cautiously brushed the bottom of the hair in painstakingly slow movements. “If you start at the top of the mane and force the brush through the knots, you'll rip its hair out and hurt poor Dorte. We don't want that! So that's why you have to start at the bottom and be very careful.”

“Right,” Hubert agreed, his attention engrossed by Marianne rather than the horse. The delicate introverted woman typically plagued by timidity was suddenly brimming with confidence and the view was a marvel to witness.

“You want to work your way up brushing slowly. If you encounter a knot with the brush, stop and detangle the hair carefully with your fingers, just like this,” she explained as her hands mimicked her words.

Marianne's gaze shifted to her interlocutor, the peculiar feeling his eyes were planted on her rather than the mane refusing to quit. He was indeed focused on the horse, however, she was convinced, for a split second, she had detected his gaze darting from her face to the mane. 

Hubert’s sight slowly traveled back to Marianne, sensing her studying him. For a moment that stretched into eternity, the two schoolmates stared at each other, Marianne bewildered while Hubert was relishing at the opportunity of having her gaze locked into his. The desire to lean down and savor her lips burned fiercely within him, but he refrained knowing full well how horribly it would end if he chose to act so callously.

Marianne proceeded with her explanation to conceal her embarrassment.

“Um, so once you get closer to the root of the hair, you need to stop brushing the whole mane at once. Instead, take a smaller section of hair in your hand and brush one section at a time. You want to keep doing that until you've brushed all of the hair.”

“Very well,” he nodded.

“D-did I explain it clearly?” she inquired, self-conscious.

“Yes, your explanation was crystal clear, Lady Edmund. I will follow your instructions to the letter,” he stated graciously.

Silence permeated the room as the two students proceeded to brush the mane of every horse in the stable.

Unexpectedly feeling the crushing weight of her inaptitude to properly socialize, Marianne confessed to her shortcomings.

"I'm sorry, I'm not much fun to be around… I'm not very good at small talk either,” she admitted sheepishly.

"Are you familiar with the proverb: Empty vessels make the most sound?” he asked her deadpan, suspecting her self-loathing was the cause of this sudden apology.

Marianne shook her head to indicate her incomprehension.

“It means that not saying anything is preferable to prattling constantly,” he concluded.

"Oh…"

"I revel in silence too, Lady Edmund. No need to apologize,” he reassured her, the low timbre of his voice gentle.

"Ok,” she nodded, her concerns allayed.

The soothing sound of hair being brushed filled the room as the two handled their task in silence.

Chapter Text

“Dear B,

I am delighted that you have shared some of your favorite dishes with me. Would you believe me if I told you those are also dishes that I favor? I was on cooking duty last Wednesday and prepared the spicy fish Dangos. I was secretly hoping that you visited the dining hall on that day and had the chance to taste them. If you did, please let me know if you enjoyed them.

Unfortunately, I feel the need to share with you the concerning news that I have received. My adoptive father is inquiring about a proper suitor for me. As we already discussed before, I have accepted a long time ago that marriage was not something I could ever consider due to my crest. However, the same cannot be said of my adoptive father. One of the reasons I was sent to this academy is for me to mingle with the nobility and find myself a suitable candidate to marry and strengthen the Edmund bloodline. I have the dreadful feeling that if I come back empty handed by the end of the academic year, one will be assigned to me without my firsthand consent…

I am at a loss about what I should be doing… Since I have received his letter, I have not been able to sleep peacefully at night. I am truly concerned about my future. The idea of getting physically close to another person is petrifying me, what if I harm this person because of the dreadful curse of my crest? I have no wish to carry this painful burden…

You have been such a wonderful friend so far, I was hoping to heed your counsel. 

I am eagerly awaiting your next letter.

Marianne”

"Dear Lady Edmund,

The bag of coffee beans that you have left with your last letter was unnecessary, but cherished nonetheless. You are far too generous and kind to me. You have my eternal gratitude, Lady Edmund.

Now that you have told me you were the one that prepared the spicy fish Dangos on Wednesday, I understand why their taste was even more refined and delectable than usual. Clearly, I can tell how amazing of a cook you are! They were simply divine and I cannot wait to taste more dishes prepared by you.

Regarding the news that you have shared with me in your last letter, I would be lying if I did not admit it has me concerned. The idea of another man unwillingly wedding you is making my blood boil. It must come as no surprise to you if I said that I wished to be this suitor for you one day. However, more importantly, your happiness is paramount to me, my lady. And I cannot fathom how you would be content to be married to a man your adoptive father has chosen for you with no concern for your own input.

I feel compelled to ask you: what is it that you desire the most for your future? I do not believe the structure of our society and its outdated nobility system are necessary for Fodlan to flourish, therefore, if you wish for your future to be free of your noble duties, then I encourage you to seek such an opportunity.

I have the feeling that your adoptive father, despite his good intentions, has decided to adopt you precisely because of your crest, and the man will choose to trade you, like mere cattle, to the highest bidder. How fair is it to ask you to sacrifice your entire life for his ambitions simply because you were born with this crest? Anybody should have the opportunity to carve their own path and choose their destiny, nobles and common folks alike. That is the future I wish to fight for.

Yours, truly.

B”

Twenty-eighth of the Garland Moon

On this sunny Saturday afternoon, Hubert crossed the gardens on his way to the stables. The week had been hectic, preparations for their class mission taking place in two days siphoning most of his precious time. The western church had been nudged in the right direction, Lord Lonato had been primed for his impending doom and the sham assassination letter for the archbishop would be planted in due time. Each chess piece had been set in its designated position to ensure a successful mission. For the moment, a quiet and relaxing afternoon with the object of his desire as he observed her brushing manes and chatting with her equine friends would be unquestionably deserved and appreciated.

As Hubert rounded the corner of the alleyway leading to the stable, a familiar but nevertheless irksome voice assaulted his ears.

"Marianne, I am delighted to hear of your passion for horses. I am a horse enthusiast, myself,” Ferdinand declared, jolly. “They are marvelous creatures, don’t you think? Gentle, intelligent, nimble, graceful… I could discuss the subject for hours,” he continued, his ebullience infectious. 

"They are lovely, yes," Marianne agreed eagerly.

"At home, I have the most majestic white steed, she is a sight to behold. She can be quite spirited sometimes, but she is as swift as the wind on a Guardian Moon night," Ferdinand boasted.

"Oh! That's amazing!" Marianne expressed as her voice lit up with enthusiasm.

“Perhaps I could present her to you someday?” he tentatively suggested.

The two students were standing by the stable, engrossed in a discussion on their mutual passion for horses. Hubert’s heart panged at the sight of Marianne gleaming so candidly for another man. 

"Ah, Hubert, are you here to talk to me?" Ferdinand asked as he noticed his classmate.

"What gave you this ludicrous idea?" Hubert remarked arrogantly, a single brow cocked.

"Then what brings you here?"

"I'm here for stable duty," Hubert stated deadpan.

"Stable duty? You?” Ferdinand questioned, an amused smirk plastered on his features. “I never believed you to be serious the day that you volunteered for the activity. The entire class figured you would do it once and abandon immediately afterward."

"Mystery solved, I am still upholding my duties,” Hubert countered, his voice dripping with petulance. “You can inform the entire class on my capability to clean soiled beddings and replenish the horses’ fodder on a weekly basis," he concluded, his icy tone detering the desire to retort. Hubert turned to Marianne, the shift in his demeanor instantaneous. "Good morning, Lady Edmund,” he greeted her cordially. “I will now start cleaning the stalls."

"O-Ok, thank you, Hubert," Marianne stuttered, smiling bashfully.

Ferdinand observed the scene with a fascination, taken aback by his classmate’s unusual behavior. He had never witnessed him displaying such deference with anybody else other than Edelgard. The lack of edge in his voice when addressing Marianne and the sardonic attitude toned down to a minimum were immediately detectable.

Hubert left the pair to their fascinating discussion on equine wonders, not without a certain annoyance that Marianne’s presence was not his to relish for the afternoon.

"Um, I should go help him," Marianne uttered as she watched Hubert enter the stable.

"Oh, let him handle it on his own. He is one very dutiful man,” Ferdinand insisted, critical of his classmate’s unwavering loyalty and sense of duty for Edelgard. “As I was saying, I would love for you to meet my favorite mare. I called her Elfenbein, like the magnificent color of her coat…" he continued, impatient to resume their conversation.

Marianne felt torn between providing assistance to Hubert with their stable duty and continuing this riveting discussion about her favorite furry friends with Ferdinand. Unassertive, she allowed Ferdinand to revel in the sound of his own voice for several more minutes before finally mustering the courage to wind up the discussion and provide her aid to Hubert. Her partner remained silent once she eventually joined him, his temper seemingly sulky. She completed her tasks withdrawn, uncertain if she had offended him.

"Dear B,

This is not the first time that you have shared your ideals with me, and, I must confess, everytime that I hear them, I can only admire you more. I wish that I had such commendable aspirations and ambitions. I find it difficult to find my purpose in life, especially with the burden that is my crest.

I have given some thoughts to the kind of future that I would like since receiving your last letter. I must admit that, if I could be liberated from the shackles of my crest, if I could live free of this constant fear of hurting others, it would be my first choice. Unfortunately, that will never be a possibility… This curse is to follow me until my death. 

I do not care in the slightest to remain a noble and the responsibilities that come with the title… I would love a simple and carefree life taking care of animals. I regularly volunteer for stable duty at the monastery. I experience true fulfillment in being responsible for the well being of those gentle creatures. If this was to be how my days were filled for the rest of my life, I would be content. My dream must sound so silly to you, especially given how honorable your ambitions are…

Thank you for your counsel, as always. Your friendship is truly precious to me.

Marianne”

Fifth of the Blue Sea Moon

Once again, Hubert crossed the gardens on his way to the stables for his weekly tasks with Marianne.

Fatigue was easily readable on his features after the exhausting experience of the Magdred ambush. Thankfully, the blunder of the previous mission had not been repeated: no injuries were sustained this time around. The mission had been a success; every piece of the puzzle had fallen into place nicely. 

Unfortunately, this morning, professor Byleth had already detected their ruse by establishing the assassination letter was only a diversion. All the same, everything should remain under control until the fateful day in the Holy Mausoleum by the end of the month at the very least.  

Needless to say, he was hoping that, this time, stable duty was to proceed as usual and no unwanted disturbance would interpose into his favorite activity. To presume he had derived pleasure from their last instance of stable duty could not be more inaccurate. Having to share his beloved with his nemesis had been a vexing inconvenience. There was no denying that the antagonistic relationship of the first few weeks he had partaken in with Ferdinand had progressed into the beginning of mutual respect as well as a tepid rivalry between the two men. Hubert had devoted effort into tolerating the man’s existence for Lady Edelgard’s sake, but calling him a comrade or even an ally would be preposterous at this point in time. And having to witness him preening like an uppity peacock while Lady Edmund was riveted to his every empty word had pierced his heart with an excruciating pain.

Shock overtook Hubert as he reached the alleyway facing the stable and the most infuriating scene unfolded before his very eyes. Standing by the stable was Lorenz "phallic cranium" Gloucester engaged in a conversation with Marianne von Edmund.

What kind of farce was that? Was somebody purposely trying to ruin his personal enjoyment? And why did it have to be this pompous contemptible fool, of all people…?

“Hello, Marianne. You're well, I hope?” Lorenz inquired, his stance reflecting his bloated sense of self-worth.

“I am, Lorenz. Thank you,” Marianne responded candidly, despite the slight discomfort detectable in her voice. 

“I cannot help but notice you do not look it,” Lorenz assessed bluntly.

“Is that so?” I feel fine,” Marianne assured him, her discomfort growing with every second.

Albeit unconvinced, Lorenz hummed in agreement as his eyes bore holes into her. 

Marianne noticed Hubert walking towards the stable as he emerged from the shadows. The corners of her lips rose into a reserved smile as she made eye contact with her stable partner. He nodded in response as he entered the stable to retrieve the bedding fork and tackle his own tasks.  

Immovable, Lorenz’s eyes remained planted on Marianne, observing her with an insatiable curiosity the entire time. Marianne’s malaise increased tenfold as she looked back at her interlocutor scrutinizing her like she was some captivating specimen.

“W-was there something you needed, Lorenz?” she questioned, uneasy.

“How unseemly of me. My apologies,” Lorenz offered genuinely, “It is not my intention to stare.”

“Does something about me seem... off?” she inquired, concerned.

“Not at all. I was just remembering your father. Or, rather, comparing my experience of him to you.”

Marianne’s demeanor abruptly changed with his words, her eyes averting to the ground beneath Lorenz’s feet.

“Your father, Margrave Edmund. He is one of the shrewdest nobles in all the Alliance, with a noted gift for pointed speech,” Lorenz continued, heedless for his classmate’s sudden irritation and dispirit. “On and beyond the battlefield, his words have the power to move friend and foe alike,” he carried on, digging the knife deeper into the wound. “My own father has said he would not want to make an enemy of him. Naturally, I am of the same mind,” he pontificated with the same confidence an oblivious fool would display.

Marianne remained silent, the desire to be miles away from this conversation washing over her. 

Hubert listened to the conversation as he cleaned the stalls, a smirk forming on his usually placid features as he took a vicious pleasure in Lorenz’s failure. This idiot had shoved his foot in his mouth, yet was oblivious to his blunder. Bringing her adoptive father into the conversation would never garner her favor. Hubert had deduced through his correspondence with Lady Edmund that the Margrave was a sore point for her.

“Your father is blessed with gifts of confidence and eloquence. Yet, compared to him, you seem always reticent and downcast,” he resumed his incessant pratting, the river of filth pouring out of his mouth endless. “Oh! I'm... I'm sorry,” he muttered, lucidity finally striking him. “I don't mean to cause you discomfort. It's just that the contrast between you and your father is striking,” the sincerity of his apology questionable as he drove the nail further.

“I have very little in common with my adoptive father,” Marianne interjected brusquely, speaking with an assertiveness nobody would believe her capable of.

If Hubert had cursed this encounter earlier, it undoubtedly turned into a delectable source of amusement now. Listening to his beloved rebuking that insufferable buffoon was as delightful as the time Lady Edelgard had dueled Ferdinand with lances and bested him with his own preferred implement of combat.

“But he sent you to Garreg Mach. Clearly he sees potential in you,” Lorenz deduced, the words a smidge patronizing. 

His eyes asserted her as his incessant volubility was brought to a fleeting pause. “I think I see it too,” he declared gravely. “Yes, a certain charm. Gravitas, if you will. Just like him,” he concluded, gradually coming to a realization.

All of Lorenz’s attention was engrossed by Marianne as a metaphorical arrow shot through his heart. After an extended pause, a heartfelt “Ah!” was exhaled as the revelation erupted to the fore of Lorenz’s mind.

“I can't say that I know too much about him. I should be going now,” Marianne hurriedly uttered, unaware of her conversational partner’s love fever and wishing to cease this discussion immediately.

“Oh, very well,” Lorenz interjected, disappointed. “Mariane, before you go, I must ask you, do you have a love of flowers?” he insisted, acting impulsively on his newly discovered feelings.

“Um. Well, I don't dislike them,” Marianne was taken aback by the unexpected question. 

“I've happened upon a spot that's just teeming with splendid blossoms. Would you like me to show you?” he proposed enthusiastically.

Hubert’s pale green eyes grew as large as saucers as the words were uttered. Was this simpleton suddenly flirting with her? Five minutes ago, his arrogance was fully on display, his verbal diarrhea on her lack of eloquence and assertiveness unstoppable. Now, the timbre and flow of his voice had transformed into the one of a man smitten by the enchanting nymph standing before him. Detecting such an affliction was child’s play for Hubert, after all, he suffered from the same trouble when it came to Lady Edmund. 

Well, this was a rather problematic turn of events…

“I think I would rather stay, I have stable duty to take care of,” Marianne shook her head. Escaping this man had become a daunting task.

“Well, perhaps I could pick a few of the nicest and present them to you?” he suggested, the haughtiness in his voice unescapable. “With a beautiful bouquet in your arms, your magnificence would rival that of even the goddess,” he prosed proudly.

A loud bang was heard from within the stable, the pair too engrossed in their conversation to notice. Flabbergasted by Lorenz’s rambling, Hubert had dropped the bedding fork, knocking a bucket and a broom in the process and muttering a few blasphemous words under his breath. 

That pompous, contemptible, conceited and condescending prick… I will make him pay for that…

“I would never compare myself to the beauty of the goddess,” Marianne cut him off sharply, outrage in her voice.

“I see. Well, I don't mind,” he let out, heedless. “Oh, that is a lovely handkerchief you've got there,” he exclaimed, unsubtly shifting the conversation in another direction. “Did you know that a handkerchief reflects the sensitivity of its owner? Yours tells me that you have quite a refined sensibility. If only you applied yourself a little more to the rest of your ensemble,” he continued, his chronic foot-in-the-mouth disease resurfacing, “there is no doubt in my mind…”

“If you admire my handkerchief so much, you may have it,” Marianne interrupted her classmate boldly.

A sigh of relief escaped Hubert’s mouth at his beloved’s discourse. If she rebuked the man that had found a renewed way to embarrass himself, he had no reason to fear the competition. For the moment…

“Ah! No, please. That is not what I meant,” Lorenz uttered, desperate to rectify his blunder.

“It was a gift from my adoptive father. I didn't choose it for myself,” she corrected curtly. “I'm sure I don't share his refined sensibilities though, considering how little he and I have in common,” she continued, her tone dripping with contempt. “I have to go,” she voiced firmly, determined to escape his grasp.

Stern footsteps were heard as Marianne abandoned Lorenz to his enchanted musings about the woman that had just stolen his heart. The brush was snatched from the shelf promptly before Marianne walked with purpose towards the mare in the farthest stall, her movements powered by a turmoil and an agitation Hubert had never witnessed from the delicate woman before. 

Hubert remained silent, allowing her a moment to brood in peace and simmer down before interrupting her rumination.

“Far be it for me to pry into matters that do not concern me, but I sense you are upset at the moment, Lady Edmund. Know that if you need somebody to confide in, I would be honored to provide such support,” he offered in a soothing voice after several minutes, lifting the somber atmosphere.

Her soft brown eyes focussing on her stable partner, Marianne considered his offer momentarily. 

“Thank you, but I'm ok…” she refused his help politely.

Hubert nodded in response. He may have cast his line but he had not necessarily expected her to bite. At a minimum, his proposal appeared to have successfully subdued some of her irritation.

Calmer but still afflicted, Marianne proceeded to brush the mane of the horse, her struggle to control her agitation taxing. Exhaling out of frustration, she reconsidered Hubert’s words. At the very least, the man deserved an explanation about her troubled state of mind. Resolute, she walked towards her stable partner as he raked the soiled beddings, his back turned to her.

“I hate when people compare me to my adoptive father,” she blurted out, her tone harsher than she had intended, her agitation palpable.

The faintest of tremor coursed through Hubert’s posture, caught off guard by her sudden presence mere feet from him. Rare were the times somebody could sneak on him undetected. His countenance bore no trace of the shock he had felt as he turned around and faced her. 

“I-I'm grateful for what he did for me, but… I…” Marianne sighed, incapable of coherently expressing her emotions.

“Would you like to sit down so that we can carry on with this conversation in a more adequate setting?” he proposed gently.

“O-ok.”

Hubert guided them to the wooden table with chairs situated in the alleyway in front of the stable. The location was perfect for a private discussion; a handful of students and monastery’s staff members were nearby, but nobody was within earshot if they spoke in a hushed tone.

“Go on, Lady Edmund. You have my undivided attention,” Hubert affirmed once they had settled into their seats.

Marianne took a deep breath, hoping it would help her articulate the jumble of mess that were her thoughts into a coherent dialogue.

“Um, I don't really know my adoptive father, but I have the feeling that he's only using me to gain more power and territory,” she stammered, her eyes downcasted to her hands.

“It would definitely be a possibility given the current climate in Fodlan,” Hubert offered, his husky voice composed.

“He is a very ambitious man, and wishes to marry me off to a powerful noble…”

“Is this your desire as well? To marry a powerful noble?”

“No… I… I can't explain why, but I don't want to get married at the moment. And I care even less to marry somebody that's powerful or a noble,” she sighed, dejected.

“Then have you given any thoughts to what you will be doing once you graduate from this academy?”

“I… I know what will happen and I feel like I won't have a say in the matter…” Marianne stated with resignation. Tears welled at the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let Hubert witness her distress, holding them in.

“Your adoptive father aside, what is it that you desire for your future, Lady Edmund?” he inquired sternly, the question meant to give her pause for thought.

Her soft brown eyes met his calculating light green ones as she pondered over the loaded question. There was softness in his gaze as he considered her, some genuine care hidden deep within the layers of composure and threatening demeanor. Marianne was taken aback by this revelation, the realization her stable partner had become more than just a schoolmate caring for the horses with her weekly sinking in.

His words were exhaustively mulled over. For the longest time, death was the only alternative she could consider to her miserable life. Daily, she would pray to the Goddess begging her to release her from this mortal existence to join her parents in the afterlife. Over time, her academic life had become enjoyable, giving a purpose to her life. The time spent with her classmates, her correspondence with her confidant, and the menial tasks that allowed her to spend time with her equine friends were dear to her. Even Hubert’s quiet company was a source of comfort and refuge from her pain. Progressively, the concept of death was becoming foreign to her and, on a few occasions, she would catch herself praying to the Goddess for the school year to never end instead.

“I don’t want to be a burden anymore… I… I want peace of mind,” she finally conceded.

“Hmm, I see,” he nodded, considering her words, in spite of their vagueness. “To me, this seems like a goal you could work towards achieving, don’t you think?”

“But I can't…” she concluded, defeated.

“Why not?” he asked, despite being fully aware of her situation.

“I… I can't explain…” she stammered.

“I apologize, Lady Edmund, I should not have inquired about matters you are clearly uncomfortable to share with me.”

“No… I…” Marianne sighed. “You haven’t done anything wrong,” she offered, the softness in her gaze sincere.

“Very well,” he welcomed her clarification. “If I may, Lady Edmund, I can't help but notice how gentle and caring you are with the horses. I believe you would make a marvelous caretaker for the horses. Perhaps this could be part of your future as well?” he suggested innocently.

The shadow of a sly smirk formed on the corners of Hubert’s lips as he internally congratulated himself for using the information she had shared in her letter to his favor. 

“You think so?” her eyes shining with pride and anticipation as she probed.

“Without a shadow of a doubt,” he confirmed genuinely.

For a moment Hubert wished could extend indefinitely, his sharp green eyes locked into hers, savoring this fleeting bonding experience with his beloved. If only this exchange could encourage her to let her guard down, fostering the potential for their relationship to blossom into a deeper connection.

“Regardless,” he spoke softly, reluctantly disrupting the lulling hush, “I hope that one day you find that peace of mind that you just mentioned, Lady Edmund. And I also wish your future to be one that you choose for yourself. No one deserves to live a life foisted on them.”

“Hmm…” Marianne nodded at her partner, a hesitant smile gently gracing her features as she was engrossed in her own thoughts.

“Shall we return to our duties?” he finally proposed.

“Oh. Yes!” she agreed, snapping out of her reverie.

“Unless you have more to share with me? I am pleased to provide additional support.”

“No… no, I'm good. Thank you so much, Hubert,” she expressed her gratitude as a peachy hue creeped to her cheeks in abashment.

“The pleasure was mine!” he stated gently, the color in her cheeks melting his heart.

The pair left the comfort of their own bubble and strolled towards the stable. Hubert interrupted their stride momentarily, feeling the necessity to clarify his intentions.

“Lady Edmund, do not hesitate to seek my counsel on any matter or concern; I am always at your disposal,” he extended the offer genuinely. “Or, should you desire a silent companion with a willing ear to listen to your pleas uninterrupted, I can provide that kind of support as well, I promise,” he finished in jest as a smirk danced across his face, his customary sarcasm seeping back into his voice.

“T-Thank you, I'll keep that in mind.”

As the two resumed their walk towards the stable, Marianne smiled to herself, welcoming the warmth of this newfound camaraderie with her stable partner.