Chapter Text
It had been one week since Edelgard von Hresvelg had seen her uncle. Most other women her age would not think twice about such a thing. They might simply assume their uncle was busy, or rather they did not live close enough for regular visits. Letters, in that case, would have to suffice. But Edelgard’s uncle was no ordinary man. One moment he would be all the way in Hrym; the next in Enbarr, breathing down her neck. No other mage in Fodlan was capable of such long-distance warps. An absence this prolonged could only mean he was up to no good.
In truth, he wasn’t her uncle at all— but Edelgard’s heart refused to accept.
To see the monster wearing her uncle’s skin in her office was a relief, yet also a burden. His presence meant he was not off torturing innocents or sabotaging Hubert’s carefully laid plans. That alone was good. But her uncle was a cunning man. A visit from him always came with a price. This combined with his unusual disappearance left a sour swirl in Edelgard’s stomach.
“Uncle,” she hissed, thinly-laced venom upon her words, “To what pleasure do I owe this visit?”
He gave a smug smirk and pulled over a chair. “My dear niece, do I need a reason to visit?”
Edelgard scowled. “Knowing you, the answer is always yes.”
Arundel sat down. “I suppose you are correct.”
Hubert formed a small ball of mire between his fingers. Edelgard placed a hand on his arm, and he snuffed it out.
Not now, She left unsaid. It won’t do him any harm.
“We’ve been working on a new piece of technology that should allow us to expand our resources,” Arundel said. “As you know, with so few Nabateans remaining, we’re running out of material for our experiments.”
Edelgard jolted forward. Her heart jumped. “I told you to keep your hands off my allies.”
“And that we are.” He leaned back, crossing his arms over his legs. “We’re keeping track of the last few remaining beasts. But even if we capture one, captive breeding programs won’t fulfill our needs.”
Edelgard’s stomach swirled. As much as she hated the Nabateans, they did not deserve such a cruel fate. Especially not the one she knew Arundel had in mind for it.
“Ancient texts speak of a realm similar to ours, one the Fell Star herself came from,” he continued. “If we can manage to forge a path to this realm, imagine all the Nabateans we can harvest. The crests we can obtain. The weapons we can forge. And, perhaps we can free the people of that land from their tyranny as well.”
“And what if it does not exist?”
“Then we keep looking,” Arundel said. “Do not underestimate me, dear niece. I do not take failure as an option. You know this.”
All too well. Her siblings were proof enough.
“The first tests will commence soon. If all works well, we shall have working results by the end of the day. Any questions?”
Edelgard steepled her fingers. “I do have a question. How exactly are you explaining your absences to Phillipa? Is she not suspicious of you?”
Philippa was the poor soul chosen to work as Arundel’s secretary. Before the onset of the war, she’d worked at Garreg Mach with Seteth and various other staff members. When everyone was sent home, Hubert summoned her to Enbarr for the position. He’d taken note of her air-headed yet hardworking nature, and figured she would be the best fit for the position. Too unique to kill and replace, but too diligent to fire. Somehow she’d survived almost five years under his command. An impressive feat, all things considered.
Arundel gave a small chuckle. “Her? I told her I had business back home, and that I didn’t want to bother her by dragging her there and back so often. She’s so naive. Besides, isn’t she always trying to spend time with the Aegir boy?”
“That she is,” Edelgard said. She would never understand Pippa’s attraction to the man. Perhaps the Crest of Cichol had some sort of magnetic effect on her.
“Her head is too high in the clouds to notice anything amiss,” Arundel said. “Granted, she is quite wise at times. Yet somehow she thinks Hubert has affections for her. Did you know that?”
Hubert rolled his eyes. She’d also thought he was a vampire. “We’ve known about that for years.”
“Absolute hilarity. You surface dwellers are so strange.” He stood. “I should be making my leave. See you soon, my dear niece.”
He vanished in a flash of purple miasma.
Edelgard slammed her fists on her desk. She lowered her head and growled, releasing all her pent up anger. “We can’t let him ruin any more innocent lives.”
Hubert scowled. He gazed out the window. “As it stands now, we may not have the option.”
Bong. The clock tower bell reverberated through the room.
“Curse him,” Edelgard spat. “Not only does he insist on tormenting me, he’s made us late for our meeting.”
She dropped what she was doing and stormed out of her office, Hubert behind her as always.
The meeting went well. Edelgard watched as the generals filed out of the room, only standing once all of them had left. Hubert began to tidy up, but Edelgard insisted he leave. Just because she was Emperor did not mean she could not clean for herself. In fact, it only strengthened her resolve to do so. The maids already worked long and hard days. Any little task she could do to make her citizen’s lives easier, she would. Such was her resolve as Adrestia’s leader.
She picked up her papers and leveled them against the table, then set off. As she exited the room, someone tapped her shoulder. She flinched and whipped her head around. Dorothea stood before her, teeth clenched.
“Oh, goddess, Edie, I am so sorry,” she said, holding a hand to her mouth. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted a word with you.”
“Please do not sneak up on me,” said Edelgard. Fear pricked her skin. “I must be on alert at all times.”
“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. Is it alright if I accompany you to…” she glanced to Edelgard’s hands. “…your office, I presume?”
Edelgard bit her lip.
“So,” Edelgard asked, “What was it that you wanted to talk to me about?”
“Well…” Dorothea’s brow was downturned, yet soft. “I’m worried about you, Edie. It looks like you haven’t slept in days.”
Edelgard pursed her lips. She had, in fact, gotten sleep, but it was fitful at best. It seemed her attempts at freshening her face that morning had failed. “I am fine. It’s merely stress from the war effort, that’s all.”
Dorothea stopped and crossed her arms. She shot Edelgard a sour look. “Edie. You’re not fine, and you know it.”
Edelgard spun on her heel. “My health does not concern you, Dorothea. If I truly need to, I will go to the imperial physicians. But at the moment, I am in fine enough shape to take care of myself.”
“Of course your health concerns me, Edie,” Dorothea said. “I’m your friend! You can share your burdens with me. With all of us.”
Edelgard turned her back to Dorothea. She held her parchment tight to her chest and gazed to the floor. There are things I can’t tell you, no matter how much I wish I could, she thought. She glanced back over her shoulder. “It’s something only an emperor can do. I do not wish to thrust that responsibility onto you. It would not be fair.”
Not a complete lie, but not the full truth.
Dorothea sighed. “Tell you what. Let’s do something together. You, me, the rest of the Eagles. Maybe we can invite Ladislava, or Randolph, or even Pippa. Your birthday is at the end of the next moon. How about we do something for that?”
Edelgard curled her lip. Once, she might have jumped at the opportunity to celebrate. Now, the thought of a grand gala made her stomach swirl. “Something small? I do not want to throw a party while our men are at war, even if it is a stalemate.”
“Of course,” said Dorothea. “A big celebration would add to the stress. Besides, you’re right. As a commoner myself, I’d be ticked off if you nobles were out partying while my friends fought to the death. But I know you would never do that.”
“Then it is settled,” Edelgard said. She began to walk again, and Dorothea followed. “I assume you would like to plan it yourself. Hubert will insist upon helping, though it may be hard for him to keep a secret from me. It’s against his very nature.”
Dorothea chuckled. “He tells you everything, doesn’t he?”
“I assume so. But perhaps he has secrets of his own.”
“Oh, I think he does, alright.” She gave an impish smile. “But perhaps I’m just reading into things too much.”
Edelgard raised an eyebrow. What on earth was she talking about?
“Anyways,” Dorothea continued, “I’ll start planning as soon as I get home. You’re going to love it, Edie.”
“Thank you, Dorothea.” Edelgard smiled. “I am sure it will be quite the celebration.”
“We’ll make it a night to remember.”
“I hope that we do,” Edelgard said.
After all, it could be my last.
Edelgard hunched over her desk, quill in hand, papers below. Nothing special— just trade agreements with Brigid. She’d gotten used to such boring tasks long ago. This was to be expected of the Emperor. Perhaps in a kinder world, she’d be on the Brigidian shores, painting the seascape while the wind blew in her hair. But alas, this was not a kind world. That made her work all the more important. At least she had her cat on her lap. Lysette Elfriede Magnolia was the best cuddler in all of Adrestia.
Hubert sat at the spare desk across from her, tinkering with some strange Agarthan device. One of the Sorcery Engineers looted it off the corpse of one of their mages. Normally, Hubert would be doing such things in the Vestra laboratory, but after Arundel’s appearance, he insisted on keeping an eye on Edelgard.
Without thinking, Edelgard placed the tip of the quill in her mouth. The bitter taste of ink coated her tongue. Her face scrunched up with disgust. She took a handkerchief and spit into it. A muddled black stained the cloth.
Ugh, she thought. Why had she done that?
“Hubert,” she asked, “Could you bring me a cup of tea?”
Hubert nodded. “Of course, your majesty.” He locked the device in his desk, then got up and entered the side room. Half of Edelgard’s teas and teaware were stored here to prevent poisonings. The other half resided in her chambers.
She went back to her paperwork. Count Bergliez had agreed to withdraw some of the military presence in Brigid in exchange for economic benefits. The primary one had been a reduction on export fees for cocoa, a delicacy beloved by many nobles. Caspar had advocated for this in particular. Edelgard agreed, though unlike him she wasn’t doing it for herself.
A dull ringing started in her ear. She placed a hand on it. Tinnitus, she thought. How annoying.
Then, something changed.
Lysette jumped off her lap, running to the corner whilst meowing frantically. The air around her shifted. A dull pain erupted in her head. Her eardrums popped. The sharp scent of metal filled her nostrils. Her vision blurred, and everything began to spin; the chair, the desk, the ground beneath her feet. She fell and landed hard on her side. As she tried to lift herself up, her body began to itch, like thousands of bugs biting her at once.
Her scars burned. The skin around them grew dry and taut. It pulled back in either direction, ripping them clean open. Tendons and muscles snapped beneath the surface. Searing pain wracked every inch of her being. A scream ripped from her throat. Her knees buckled, her vision went dark, and–
It stopped.
Relief washed over her, warm and comforting like water drawn fresh for a bath. Her skin still felt tight, but no longer did her scars sting and burn.
The world around her came back into focus. Hubert loomed above her, a terrified look on his face— something one never wanted to see from him.
“Your majesty,” he panted. His voice quivered. “Your majesty! Edelgard!”
“Hubert.” Her breathing began to stabilize. She yanked up her sleeve.
Nothing.
Edelgard’s heart thumped. “But… I… I felt it.”
Hubert eased her off the ground. “Felt what?”
“My scars.” She tripped over her words. “My scars, they tore, and it stung, and…”
“Please, your majesty.” Hubert held a teacup to her lips. “Take a sip.”
She did as told. It was Bergamot. Her favorite.
Hubert held her tight. With her father long gone, he was the only one she trusted to comfort her so. Lysette jumped back into her lap and curled into a ball. She purred. They sat there, relishing the silence, until a knock rang from the door. Hubert backed off like nothing had ever happened.
Edelgard adjusted her posture. “You may enter.”
The doors opened. A guard hunched over in the doorway, one hand braced against the wall.
“Your highness.” The guard doubled over in his attempt to bow. “There has been an emergency. General Ladislava requests your presence in the courtyard.”
Edelgard stormed through the palace halls, heels clicking against the marble floor with each step. Hubert and Lysette followed close behind. Palace guards ran amok around them. At least one tripped over his own boots. Shouts and the clanking of metal filled the air. The closer they drew to the courtyard, the louder the commotion became.
The Emperor perched her hands atop the balcony railing. An entire platoon’s worth of men filled the courtyard, all centered around General Ladislava. A strange blue glow radiated off their armor. She followed her eyes to the source and gave a silent gasp.
Her uncle’s experiment succeeded.
A circle of magic floated just above the ground in front of Ladislava. Blue sparks whirred around at a breakneck pace, some shooting off and fizzling out. Someone stood inside, almost reminding Edelgard of a framed portrait. She was too far to make out any details— a closer inspection would have to do.
She marched down the stairs to the courtyard and made her way into the crowd. The assembled guards all parted to let her through.
Ladislava whipped around, bowing upon Edelgard’s approach. “Your majesty.”
“General Ladislava,” Edelgard said. “When did this appear?”
“Less than ten minutes ago. I sent the messenger as soon as I was notified.”
Strange. That would have put it right around the same time as her incident. Whatever her uncle had done must have caused it. For once, his torment of her was unintentional.
“The man on the other side wishes to speak with you,” Ladislava said.
Edelgard stepped in front of Ladislava and took a good look at the man. The first thing to draw her attention was his striking red hair. It flowed down past his shoulders in immaculate waves, bright against the black coat he wore. Gold trim and tassels lined his clothing. A thick white stripe split the coat down the middle, flaring to either side below his golden belt. His red eyes narrowed, studying Edelgard with great intent. A platoon of men stood behind him, each carrying a red spellbook.
A fellow nobleman, Edelgard presumed. But not one she had ever met before. Foreign, perhaps? She could handle this. The man had expressed his wishes to Ladislava, so he must speak Fodlanish.
She stepped forward. Lysette curled her tail around her leg.
Edelgard took a deep breath and began to speak. “I am Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg of the Adrestian Empire. State your name and occupation, then explain to me what is going on.”
The man bowed. “I am Duke Arvis of Velthomer, and I was going to ask you the same thing.”