author's note: Here we are again! If you haven't read "aitai" yet, you'll need to read that first: this is the sequel, and hopefully the second of three (four? ... five?) in an ongoing series. This takes place three months after the first piece and will be divided into two or three parts. It's all HubertxPascal, but not entirely mush or lovey-dovey stuff. Going into this, you should be prepared for political talk, character development, and a fight or two. The rating will be upped with the second part due to upcoming language and situations.

Comments, feedback, critique, etc. would be awesome. I'm still new to this fandom, but I like what I'm doing, so that's what counts, right?

Enjoy!

negai
part one - when the day met the night

Over the course of his eighteen and a half years of living, Hubert Oswell had experienced a vast number of challenges. He had been subjected to adoption by a new father in a new nation - losing his birth parents and older brother in the process - followed by several years of difficult studies at a prestigious academy, rigorous military training that resulted in his promotion to lieutenant at the young age of sixteen, and a long journey with a group of travelers who often drove him half to the brink of insanity with mere conversation. He had fought hard, and sometimes even for his life, over the course of his youth. Most men, he surmised, would have only experienced half as much at twice his age. They had been trying times for him, certainly.

But nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the challenge of living with an Amarcian.

After three months of sharing a home with Pascal, Hubert's military training felt like a distant memory of something almost pleasant, almost on the same level as his adventures with Asbel and Cheria as a child. He loved Pascal dearly (although he wouldn't admit to it in public), and was all too glad to have taken the first steps toward spending his life with her, but sometimes...

Sometimes he was tempted to seize her by the scruff of her neck, carry her all the way back to the Amarcian Enclave, and dump her into Fourier's lap. She was impossible. And he had no one to blame for this situation but himself.

The trouble had started immediately upon their arrival in Yu Liberte. Garrett Oswell had just learned of his adopted son's rejection of Dylan Paradine's daughter - a fact that Hubert had taken great care to conceal, hoping to reveal the news when the time was "right" - and so the young man's reappearance in Strahta with Pascal by his side had not gone over well at all. His father had immediately jumped to conclusions, deciding that Hubert's refusal had been based on his love for someone else... and although that had been the correct conclusion, his father's words had been far too venomous to merit being spoken, and his plan to lie and speak of Pascal only as a traveling companion had been immediately discarded.

They'd fought with increasing ferocity, harsh words leading to shouting, then personal insults, until a thoughtless remark about Hubert's choice in women had led him to draw his weapon against his own father. Pascal had appeared at his side then, tugging on his sleeve, begging him to stop, but such an action led to Oswell making the insinuation that Hubert was controlled by foolish teenage desires... and even she had lost her patience then, aiming the business end of her staff directly at his face. The standoff had ended abruptly when Raymond burst into the room, apparently having been spying on them the whole time, demanding that they all stop before he took action. The suggestion that he would somehow put an end to their violence was so ridiculous that Hubert had burst into laughter, lowered his blade, and gone to his room to pack his things.

Pascal had been bewildered by his sudden decision to leave, but he had been completely unconcerned. As he had explained to her, Oswell had given him an ultimatum at the age of eighteen: marry Paradine's daughter or be disowned. The man viewed his son as little more than a bargaining chip in his plans to re-enter the government, and Hubert had of course objected to it. He had informed the president of his feelings shortly after the end of his journey, explaining as delicately as possible that his heart belonged to another... and Paradine had not only understood, but also agreed to keep the matter between them, as not to jeopardize the young man's living situation. Still, no amount of stalling had been able to prevent the truth from coming out eventually, and Oswell's fury at this had been palpable.

Thankfully, Hubert had been well-prepared for the inevitable loss of his room in the Oswell manor, not to mention the loss of his foster father. He had expected it to sting, losing another father... but he hadn't really felt much of anything. Perhaps, he had mused then, his travels had opened his eyes to the true nature of the man who had raised him.

He had called in a favor to an old acquaintance from his days in the military academy, and in a matter of hours he was handed the keys to a small - but comfortable - property on the edge of the desert. There were several rows of snug rental homes in Yu Liberte, many of which were occupied during the cooler months but abandoned in the spring and summer as locals sought shelter from the heat in more temperate climates like those in Windor. He had already been planning to occupy one of these homes, when the time was right, as his friendship with the landlord assured a more than fair monthly cost... and the added bonus of privacy, as he was not the type of man to tattle on his tenants. Hubert had not been planning to immediately live with Pascal in such close quarters, but the home contained two bedrooms on different floors, and this separation in their living space had provided him with at least some comfort.

The whole thing had happened in what felt like the blink of an eye. One day he had been mulling over paperwork in his office, and then only a few days later he was moving his things into a new home with the woman he loved by his side. Months before, he was certain such a change would have ruined him, but he was altogether more relaxed, thanks to his journey. Nothing, he had mused then, could possibly be as trying as fighting Little Queen and her army of clones on Fodra.

But he had been wrong, of course.

Three months into living with Pascal, the two of them had settled into some sort of dysfunctional routine. They worked entirely different hours, on most days, as he was an early riser and she a habitual night owl. Each morning, just as the sun began to rise, Hubert woke automatically with it. He would bathe, dress, and prepare breakfast, then spend approximately half an hour planning the rest of his day; if it was a weekday, he would also prepare a lunch, while on weekends he would often make a list of what needed purchased at the local markets or cleaned in their home. Five days a week, he would then travel to the capitol building to report for work... but not before he climbed the stairs to Pascal's spacious second floor bedroom, quietly opening the door to look in on her sleeping soundly in her bed. On a few occasions she had still been awake at that early hour, hunched over some invention or another, dressed in a dirty tank top and shorts and often drenched in sweat, but most mornings he found her virtually dead to the world. He would often cross the room to her bed and make some adjustment or another - covering her with a blanket, tucking a dangling limb back into her bed, sometimes even shutting off a still working machine - before bending to kiss her softly on the cheek or forehead. And then he would depart, arriving at his desk shortly after seven.

Pascal's days, meanwhile, began much differently than his. As far as he was aware, she typically rose shortly before noon, stumbled into a bath (at his insistence - because he would not fail to lecture her if she skipped one, provided he was not away on business), and then devoured a lunch that usually consisted of fruit and little else. She would then pour herself into her research and experimentation, laboring away on one invention or another. Sometimes she would leave the house, traveling out to see the valkines or explore parts of the desert, and on one occasion she professed that she was homesick and disappeared in the direction of the Amarcian Enclave... only to return a mere three days later proclaiming she was furious with Fourier and that Poisson was turning into a brat. (He hadn't asked for elaboration.) When he returned home in the early afternoon she would greet him cheerfully, and on most days they found themselves becoming surprisingly lost in conversations that took place at the small dining table in their kitchen. He hadn't expected her to show interest in his military career, nor had she apparently expected him to care about her latest discovery or idea for an improvement, but they repeatedly found solace and a willing listener in one another.

But that was the point at which what might have been a normal relationship between lovers began to fall apart. Pascal was exceedingly picky about her meals, and Hubert's best attempts to introduce her to new food typically resulted in the Amarcian making several angry faces before storming away from the table for a banana. When he began to wind down for the evening, and sought to relax in their sitting room with a book or paperwork, or some other hobby of his, her energy level was at that point off the charts; she grew bored quickly and would go on a rampage, either creating some form of disaster in her room or running out of the house to fight monsters in the desert, much to his disdain. On some nights she begged him to go out somewhere with her, but he was still reluctant to be seen in her company, lest rumors begin - and that was when she grew frustrated, making all sorts of accusations that he was embarrassed by their relationship or wanted her to become a shut-in. But that was not even the worst part. The worst part...

The worst part, as he'd found out after barely a week alone with her, was that Pascal hated sleeping alone. And for a man of his moral values, this was downright terrifying.

Her first attempt to crawl into his bed had resulted in a commotion so loud that he had worried their neighbors might hear. It had been close to midnight, he had been sound asleep, and had woken suddenly to the warmth of a small body in his bed. In his sleepy state, he had mistaken her for some sort of perverted intruder - and so they'd ended up shrieking at each other from different sides of the room, both startled by the other's over-the-top reaction. When he'd calmed, finally, she had confessed to being lonely and wanting some company. In response, he had unceremoniously banished her from his room and gone back to bed. As he had explained to an exceedingly grumpy Amarcian the following afternoon, it was awkward enough living with her while their relationship was still in its infancy. Sharing a bed with her was another thing entirely, and he would not stoop to such a level.

This declaration had not stopped her from trying. A few days later she had appeared at his door just as he was falling asleep, asking if she could at least sit with him for a little while. He had relented, as he had been able to hear a note of sadness in her voice... but he'd dozed off and she'd curled up beside him, snuggled up against his back. On that occasion, she'd spent the whole night there, but upon waking at dawn he'd lectured her for twenty minutes on the inappropriateness of an unmarried man and woman sleeping in the same bed. She had listened to the whole thing... but none of it sank in, apparently, as she was back again the next evening.

Eventually he had relented: she was at times a combination of homesick, lonely, and clingy, and he had not wanted to seriously upset her by rejecting her on the nights in which she did need some comfort. It wouldn't have been fair, after all, to kick her out of his room merely because he was uncomfortable. After about two months, he'd reluctantly allowed her to sleep beside him, taking great care to explain that it would not be every night. He had noticed that her snoring was far less loud in his bed (something relating to his pillows, he guessed), and that she slept far more soundly. So it had not been all bad. She'd spent a few nights beside him, and he'd grown comfortable with her, to the point of falling asleep with an arm around her slender waist...

But then she'd kissed him goodnight, once, a little harder than usual, and after only a few minutes he'd found himself pinning her to the mattress, his mouth on hers and his hands wandering her body, one of her arms slung tight around his neck as she squirmed and emitted various squeaks and sighs. He'd almost lost control of himself - almost, because he had stopped, thankfully. But she had been summarily banished from his bed again, lest she tempt him a second time. She hadn't been happy about it, but he had assured her that it was absolutely necessarily. They were unmarried, and just what would happen if someone found out?

Yes, living with Pascal was a challenge - the biggest of Hubert's life. And he had a feeling, somehow, that it was only going to get worse.

Summer was drawing to a close in Yu Liberte, but there was no sign of relief to the occupants of the sweltering desert town. Sitting in his office at the capitol building, Hubert absently fanned himself with a bound document, the sleeves of his coat rolled up to his elbows and the collar unbuttoned. It was hot, almost as hot as the week before, when there had been a four day government recess and military suspension called on the basis of the current drought and sweltering heat. He'd had no choice but to sit at home with Pascal on those days, occupying himself by assisting in the trial installations of solar panels on their roof (landlord approved, somehow) and an internal cooling system to accompany it. Although he was mostly used to the desert, summer always brought with it a lingering discomfort that made him long for his more temperate hometown of Lhant.

He thought of the small border town again as he sat scanning the paper in front of him, a pen held in his other hand poised above the surface. He wondered how Asbel was doing, or if he'd yet scheduled a date for his wedding to Cheria. He thought of Sophie, and the blooming garden of sopherias she'd written him about. He had been meaning to return her letter, sent two weeks prior, with happy news about his new relationship with Pascal, but...

Above him, somewhere within the ceiling of his office, there was an abrupt clanging noise. He looked up, startled, then frowned, slowly turning his attention back down to the document on his desk. He hadn't yet told anyone about his relationship with Pascal. In fact, the only person who knew was Malik - and that was because he'd dropped by, unexpectedly, after attempting to visit Pascal at the Amarcian Enclave and receiving an earful from Fourier about how her baby sister had run off to Strahta. Had he not turned up in the middle of the day on a Saturday and barged in through the front door, only to find Hubert and Pascal in mid-kiss, sprawled out together on their couch, the older man wouldn't have known at all.

... Then again, thinking about it at present, Hubert guessed that Malik would have still made the (correct) assumption about their relationship even if he had not found them in such a situation - which, as he'd been sure to explain, had been far more innocent than it had looked. Malik had been sworn to silence by the lieutenant - but not by Pascal, who cared little about who knew they were together, and only abided by his wishes because she could see just how upset the thought of rumors and gossip made him. Since then, Hubert had been meaning to tell his brother, and the rest of his friends... but what was the point? Asbel and Cheria were too excited about their upcoming marriage to entertain thoughts of anyone else's happiness. The only person he desired to tell was Sophie, and even then -

Another clanging noise sounded above his head, and he sighed, placing his pen down on the desk, followed by the document he'd been using as a fan. It was impossible to concentrate like this. It was hot, and with lunch drawing close, his mind had inevitably wandered from his work. Not to mention that noise -

The sound came again and this time he slammed his hands into the desk, gritting his teeth. "Pascal," he said, sharply, turning his eyes up to the ceiling, "are you quite done?"

"Huh? Umm, no, not yet..." The Amarcian's voice was muffled at first, but as Hubert watched, one of the elaborate ceiling tiles slid slowly aside, and a shock of red and white hair popped out from beneath. "What's up?" she asked, poking her head out of the ceiling and peering down at where he sat, almost directly beneath her. "Everything okay, Hu?"

"That... noise... is quite distracting." He leaned back in his chair, frowning up at her. "I thought you said this would only take a few minutes. You've been crawling around in the ceiling for almost twenty minutes now."

"Oh, yeah, well, you see..." She flashed him a bright smile, dropping further out of the ceiling, a narrow pair of dust-covered shoulders coming into view. "I've got the last pipe over here, but it doesn't want to screw in and connect to the thingie."

He gave her a skeptical look. "The... thingie?"

"Yeah! You know! The hoop thingie that connects to the end of the vent thingie I installed." One of her arms appeared, and she pointed to a newly installed metal vent at the top of one wall. "They're almost the same size, so they should slide right together, but they're totally clanging around and being stubborn and stuff."

"I see. "Thingie" is the technical term, I assume." He lowered his eyes to his paperwork for a moment, shaking his head - and trying very hard to hide a smile that had unexpectedly tried to capture his mouth. "Well," he remarked, "be certain you figure it out soon. If that racket continues, I will have no choice but to rip you down out of the ceiling and drag you home. And," he added, as an afterthought, glancing back up at her, "toss you into a bath. You are filthy."

"Well, yeah, do you really think anybody ever cleans up here?"

"... that is a good point."

She laughed at that, disappearing into the ceiling again, sliding the tile back into place after her. Hubert shook his head, finally allowing his smile to appear fully, making his best attempt to return to his work. Three weeks ago, he'd made the decision to formally introduce Pascal to Dylan Paradine, the president of Strahta, on the basis that she had interest in testing out some new systems in Yu Liberte. She'd begged him for four days straight to get permission for her to test her cold air system somewhere - "somewhere big," as she'd put it - and so he'd eventually caved, bringing her to meet Paradine to seek his approval. Though they'd met before, it had been just briefly, and during a time in which Hubert hadn't even known Pascal very well. The president had spoken to her for all of ten minutes before giving her permission to make as many changes as she wished in the capitol building. The agreement was that he would evaluate her work, after his upcoming visit to Windor, and determine their next actions from there. As he'd remarked to Hubert later, Pascal's knowledge and inventions had the potential to change lives for the residents of Strahta, and he was very interested in seeing what she had to offer. After drawing up some plans, she'd started with Hubert's office early that morning - after getting out of bed at a normal time, which had been quite a surprise.

Above his head, there was one more clanging sound, followed by a loud snap. Pascal suddenly squealed with delight, and he heard her scramble to her feet, leaping delicately from beam to beam in the ceiling until she reached an opening in the tiles across the room, where a ladder sat waiting. "It finally went together!" she exclaimed, dropping down easily onto the top of the ladder, bringing a cloud of dust with her. "I can't wait to test this!"

He blinked, watching her reach for a boxy remote that had been placed on one of the rungs of the tall metal ladder. "It's finished already?"

"I think so." She examined the remote, her amber eyes bright, apparently not even aware of the dust that covered her from head to toe. "Okay, so, when I press this top button, all the energy that the wind turbine outside has been storing and converting into energy will start moving, and it'll go through one pipe where it'll get all nice and frosty thanks to the frozen water cryas that's inside the box right before the opening in here, and then it'll go through the next pipe and..." She caught sight of the blank look on Hubert's face and laughed nervously, reaching up to smooth her untidy hair. "Umm, well, I guess you don't really care how it works, huh?"

He sighed. "Just press the button."

"Y'okay!" She jammed one finger into the remote, and for a long moment his office was completely silent. They exchanged glances, and Pascal bit down on her bottom lip, squinting at the device in her hands. "Ummmm," she murmured, "maybe I don't have the signal right - "

She was interrupted by a metallic thunking noise from right above her head, at the edge of the room. Her eyes grew wide and she gripped the ladder in her free hand, staring up into the open ceiling tile. "Oh boy," she started, "this could be... um... bad..."

Hubert half-rose from his desk, alarmed. "What's it doing?"

"Well, you see, there was the possibility of the water cryas getting... sorta... unstable, when I froze it..."

"Pascal!" He stood up straight now, starting around from behind his desk. "Get down from there!"

"Ooooh boy, this isn't - " She was interrupted again by a new noise, but this time it was the sound of rushing through the pipes. They both stared at the ceiling, their eyes following the sound from her side of the room to his... and suddenly, behind him, he felt the sensation of cool air. His eyes went wide and he turned, staring up at the metal vent at the top of the wall, from which the air was being emitted. Behind him, Pascal gave a happy shriek. "It's working!" she exclaimed. "Awesome! I totally didn't think it was gonna work the first time!"

"Well..." The blue-haired man blinked, genuinely surprised. "Well done."

"Yay~" She nuzzled the remote to her cheek, beaming. "I'm totally proud of myself for this one, Hu!"

"As am I." He walked closer to the vent and felt almost immediate relief from the heat, cool air pouring onto his face. He closed his eyes, relaxing, enjoying the sensation. "This is wonderful," he remarked, feeling the air blow damp strands of hair from his forehead. "I hope you realize that my office will now be the envy of all."

"Hey, it's not a problem. I can totally install it in the other rooms." He heard her voice soften somewhat. "I have to get some more pipes though, 'cause I'm fresh out..."

"Again?"

"It's not my fault your office is super long. I had to use up my whole stash!"

"Well," he began, but a knock on the door silenced him. He opened his eyes, startled, looking quickly back to where Pascal sat on the top of the ladder. She seemed to understand, and quickly brushed off her hair, shirt, and pants, trying to rid them of the clinging clumps of dust. Hubert cleared his throat, turning his back on her to face the closed door of his office. "Yes," he called, steadying his voice. "Come in."

The door opened to reveal a slightly stout, tanned man with long gray hair and a short goatee. Hubert made his best attempt not to appear startled, but it was difficult to hide his surprise. "Mr. President!" he exclaimed.

"Hello, Hubert." Dylan Paradine entered the room, closing the door behind him as he did so. He moved slowly, coming to stand beside the blue-haired man, giving him a smile before lifting his dark eyes to the ceiling, chuckling. "And hello, Miss Pascal."

Pascal returned his smile from her place atop the ladder, but Hubert could easily see that she was nervous. He spoke before she could, watching the older man closely. "I thought you were to be away for several more days," he remarked, turning to face him. "Did you not just leave the country last week, during the recess?"

"Yes, I did. I had planned to be away much longer. However, my talks with Windor went quite well, and my business there is finished. King Richard sends his best to both of you." Dylan walked to the empty chair placed in front of Hubert's desk and seated himself there, folding his hands together. "Please, sit. We have much to discuss."

Pascal dropped nimbly from the top of her ladder to the floor, removing the thick pair of gloves she had been wearing. "So, uh... I guess that's my cue to scram, huh?"

"On the contrary." He smiled. "It is you who I wish to speak with, primarily, Miss Pascal."

"Eh?" She blinked a few times, leaning forward. "Me...?"

Hubert swallowed hard, moving around to the back of his desk and slowly sinking back into his chair. "Is... something wrong, Mr. President...?"

Pascal's gaze snapped to him. "I told you we should have asked before I started messing with the turbine! Now I'm totally going to get yelled at!"

Dylan laughed heartily, shaking his head. "No, no. Nothing is wrong, and neither of you are in trouble. You are quite free to experiment in this building as you please." He nodded at Pascal as she moved across the room to lean against the side of Hubert's desk, depositing her gloves on the top of a pile of books. "Actually, that is what I would like to speak with you about."

"My experiments?"

"King Richard was quite insistent on showing me all of the developments that you made in Windor, prior to coming here with Hubert. I already knew that the Amarcians were a highly intelligent tribe, but you, Miss Pascal..." He chuckled. "The work that you have accomplished, and all of it in a very short period of time, is quite impressive. The cold air and heated water systems are many things that could improve lives in many cities throughout the world - not just in the areas surrounding Windor or Fendel." He paused, glancing around the room. "I can feel the difference in here already. I saw your turbine before I entered, but who could have imagined such a small item would prove so effective?"

"Aw, shucks." The Amarcian smiled sheepishly, waving off his remarks with one hand, but Hubert could tell that she was truly pleased by the president's observations. "It was nothing."

"On the contrary." He leaned forward in his seat. "Your work so far has made vast improvements in the lives of others. Every city that has been touched by you has found itself changed for the better." He looked to Hubert. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"... yes." The blue-haired man nodded, slowly, allowing his gaze to meet Pascal's for just a moment. "And as I am sure Richard told you, she was an invaluable resource during our journey. Although all of the Amarcians proved more intelligent than expected, Pascal is... as you say, a level above the rest."

"C'mon, you guys... you're making me blush..." Pascal rubbed at one cheek. "You didn't come back here just to tell me how awesome I am, did you?"

Dylan laughed again, his mouth creasing into a smile. "My apologies if this has caused you embarrassment. However, I want to be sure that you are aware of just how invaluable you have made yourself to the people of this world." He fixed her with a confident gaze. "Have you ever considered how much more you could contribute with additional resources, Miss Pascal?"

"Unlimited resources...?" She blinked. "You mean, like... more equipment and helpers and stuff?"

"Precisely." He gave her a nod. "I assume that your reach thus far has been limited due to the fact that you are only one person. I was also told that you have been funding some of these changes and improvements yourself."

"Oh, yeah, well..." She folded her arms together. "There aren't a lot of people I could ask to help me out with my research, you know? And it would have been totally unfair to ask the people in Zavhert to donate money for the hot water system there, 'cause they're a heck of a lot poorer than I am." She gave the older man a cheerful smile. "It was kinda rough going, sometimes, but I had a little bit of support from Fendel. And when I was in Windor, Richard just kinda threw money at me, but... it really didn't make the work any easier."

"I see." He rubbed his chin. "Then I wonder what you would say to the opportunity to do such work in an official capacity."

"In a what now?"

"Mr. President!" Hubert started in his seat, feeling his eyes grow wide. "You are suggesting - ?"

"Miss Pascal would be an invaluable resource to the government of Strahta. Not only could she improve the quality of life for our citizens, further research could aid in the development of new tools for the military. In addition to this, her presence as a Strahtan official could be used to our advantage, should we find ourselves in need of a veritable "olive branch" to extend to Windor or Fendel." Dylan turned his gaze to Pascal, who appeared bewildered. "I would like to offer you a position with Strahta, Miss Pascal. Though I have not fully developed my thoughts in this matter as of yet, I desire to create a new role for you - perhaps the lead of a research and development department. You would be the head of this department, and as such, would be entitled to one or more assistants beneath you."

"Oh, seriously?" The Amarcian leaned forward, apparently intrigued. "Like, I'd get money to buy parts, and there'd be people who would have to listen to me and do what I told them and stuff?"

"Yes, something like that." Dylan's mouth creased into a smile again. "Again, I have not fully developed my thoughts in this matter. I would also like to seek approval from the rest of my staff, prior to extending an official offer to you. Also, it is worth noting that this position would more than likely be an elected one, so you would require re-election to continue holding the post for longer than two years." He looked to Hubert. "However, as I am sure Hubert can tell you, it is not difficult to gain the trust and favor of the people of Strahta, as long as you choose to act in their best interests. Even as a lieutenant appointed by myself, rather than by an election, he is well-liked by everyone."

"S - sir..." The blue-haired man tugged at his collar, glancing once at the woman to his left. "Are you entirely sure about this? I will give you that Pascal is intelligent, yes, but she has never held a position in office. And I worry that there are some who may find her methods..." He paused. "... unusual."

"I understand your concerns. And I am certain that you are not the only one who will voice them." The president nodded slowly. "However, on this matter, I will not be swayed. There is much good that Miss Pascal's presence could do for Strahta - as well as the rest of the world. It would be foolish of me not to pursue this opportunity, even at the risk of my own reputation." He crossed his arms, leaning back in the chair. "I will not ask for an immediate decision. As mentioned, it will be necessary for me to seek approval to extend an offer to join the government. But at the very minimum, Miss Pascal, I would like you to think about what I have said, and then return to me with your answer. Should you accept, I will immediately pursue the foundation of this new department."

"And what if I say no?"

"If you refuse, there will be no hard feelings. But I am also quite certain that you would shortly find yourself receiving the same offer from the kingdom of Windor and government of Fendel." He smiled again at the Amarcian before rising from his seat. "I won't lie: this is, at least to some extent, a political move. Your presence in Strahta would give our government a great advantage in the continued negotiations between the three nations. However, it is not my intention to use you as a pawn. Your main goal would be to develop and implement new technologies to all people. Should we solidify our contracts of peace with Fendel and Windor, you would be free to assist there as you pleased."

Pascal was oddly quiet now, her gaze falling to the floor of the office. Hubert watched her, first puzzled and then concerned. He had expected her to shout out an immediate response and start bouncing around the room, not stand silently by his desk. In lieu of her response, he cleared his throat, rising to his feet. "She will give it some thought, Mr. President. Of that I am certain."

"That is all I can ask." The older man bowed slightly at the waist. "I trust you will help her arrive at the right decision, Hubert."

"... sir. It is not my place to speak for her, but - "

"My, how you have changed." Dylan laughed loudly at that remark, silencing the younger man. "A few months ago, you wouldn't have hesitated to speak on behalf of a woman. I still recall the initial complaints filed by some of the female ranking officers who insisted you would not allow them to finish a sentence."

Hubert winced, turning his head away. "I still maintain that my actions were somewhat exaggerated, sir, but... I do acknowledge my inappropriate treatment of my colleagues. I have no explanation other than the foolishness of youth."

"I understand. It was quite a long time ago, but I can still recall what it was like to be your age." Dylan started to move away from the chair, but then reached back to steady himself against it, grunting slightly. "These old bones are quite weary from traveling, I'm afraid. It's another reminder of how long ago it truly was that I was as young as the two of you." He looked back to Pascal, smiling slightly. "I will be in my office for the rest of the afternoon. Please, Miss Pascal, think things over as long as you would like. You are welcome to come speak to me at any time."

"Okay," she said, softly, only raising her eyes to his for a moment. "Thanks..."

"And Hubert." He turned his attention to the lieutenant again. "Before the day is over, I would like a word with you, as well. It is almost lunchtime, now, so please take a break from your work - but afterwards, I would appreciate a minute of your time."

"Of course, Mr. President." Hubert bowed deeply, swallowing. "Thank you."

"I will speak to you both again soon." With that the older man began to cross the room to exit, his arms folded behind his back. Both Hubert and Pascal watched him go in silence, and even after the door closed behind him, neither of them spoke for a long time.