Rhea had just put the baby to bed when she heard a knock at the door. She opened the door to see Lysithea.
"Can I ask you a question?" Lysithea asked.
"You may," Rhea agreed, letting the Ordelia girl into the room to speak with her privately. "What do you wish to know?"
"You said Sitri was always frail," Lysithea said, a bit suspicious. "What, exactly, did you mean by 'always'?"
"Since the day she was born," Rhea told Lysithea, which was technically true. She had decided to leave out the details of Sitri's creation during her retelling of her past, reasoning that it would be too difficult to explain. However, if her suspicion was correct, she had unintentionally given Lysithea a reason to suspect her of wrongdoing. "Sitri would not have lived as long as she had without the Crest of Flames. It strengthened her. Unlike, I suspect, what the Crests in your body are doing to you."
"You know about that?" Lysithea asked.
"Edelgard is afflicted with the same condition," Rhea answered. "Two Crests are not meant to coexist in one body. Truth be told, they were never truly meant to exist the way they do now. The purpose of a Crest is for a Nabatean to grant long life to a human with whom they wish to share their life. The incomplete Crests we granted during the War of Heroes were already a perversion of that purpose, but to grant a Crest that would harm its bearer is an abomination." She paused. "I am sorry. I failed both of you completely. Had I not become caught up in my own desires, had I been vigilant, you would not have suffered as you have. Sadly, I must fail you once more, as I do not know how to remove the Crests that are killing you."
"I guess it was too much to hope for," Lysithea sighed.
"Perhaps Professor Hanneman can help you," Rhea suggested. "I cannot do nearly as much for you as I should, but I will give him what information I can."
"Thanks, I guess," Lysithea said. "I know I probably don't have much time left. I've accepted it. I just want to make sure my parents will be all right once I'm gone."
"Then if we cannot find a cure for you, then I will ensure they are," Rhea promised.
Elsewhere, Bernadetta had found a room in which to hide. Hubert, meanwhile, had gotten two pieces of cake, and knocked on her door.
"Go away," Bernadetta said, through the door.
"I suppose I could," Hubert said. "But then I would have to eat both of these pieces of delicious cake myself, and I don't know if I really want to."
"Cake?" Bernadetta asked, opening the door slightly.
"Ah well, there's nothing for it," Hubert continued, holding the two plates within her field of view. "I'll just skip breakfast in the morning, and—oh! There you are, Bernie! Do you want cake?"
"No fair," Bernadetta complained, opening the door. "Fine, come in."
"Thank you," Hubert said, entering the room. Bernadetta quickly shut the door behind him.
As the two ate their cake, Hubert said, "I just thought I should make sure you were all right."
Bernadetta picked at her food. "I feel like I'm holding the Eagles back. I forgot to be aware of my surroundings, and you and Ferdinand had to save me. Nobody else would have messed up like that. I'm still as useless as ever."
"Nonsense," Hubert told her. "You were just doing your job of supporting the close-range fighters from a safe distance. We all missed Duke Aegir."
"I still couldn't do anything once he had me," Bernadetta said. "I thought I was about to pass out."
"And yet you still tried to stab him while he was seemingly distracted," Hubert said. "Which you would never have had the presence of mind to do before. And you are talking to me without fear, are you not? I'd say you have come a long way since you first came to Garreg Mach."
"You mean it?" Bernadetta asked.
"I do. In truth, your courage inspires me," Hubert told her. "In these past two years, you have faced your overwhelming fears and grown so much as a person...while I have spent my whole life running from my fears."
"You think I'm inspiring?" Bernadetta asked.
"Yes. In truth...I make every effort to be terrifying because I don't want anyone else to see how much of a coward I truly am." He saw that she had emptied her plate. "Here, I'll take that back to the kitchens."
"Wait, before you go...I have something I wanted to give you," Bernadetta said. "I made it back when we were students." She handed him an embroidered rose corsage. "I wanted to give it to you to apologize for being scared of you, but then you and Edelgard attacked the Holy Tomb before I could, and...I thought it would help you be less scary."
Hubert looked at the corsage. "You made this...for me?"
"Yes.
"And you didn't get rid of it after the war started? Why keep it?"
"I guess...I wanted to remember you the way you were," Bernadetta told him, visibly uncomfortable. "Do you like it?"
Hubert didn't answer, nor did he move at all. After a few seconds, Bernadetta realized that he wasn't even blinking. "Oh no no no no, I killed him!" She opened the door and saw Petra in the hallway. "Petra, help me!"
Petra looked at Hubert and waved a hand in front of his face. He didn't react. "Interesting. Hubert is sleeping standing up, like frightened Bernie." She looked at Bernadetta. "Why is he being like this?"
"I don't know!"
Jeritza hadn't planned on Mercedes discovering his true identity. Even with the loss of his mask (he hadn't had time to retrieve it before trying to warn Edelgard of the attempted coup at Enbarr), Mercedes hadn't recognized his face. Which made sense; he had been young when she and Mother fled.
Someone else had recognized him, though, and that someone was the illustrious Lady Constance von Nuvelle, who unfortunately was speaking with Mercedes when she did so. "Emile von Bartels? Is that you?"
"...No," he tried.
"Don't attempt to lie to me. I, Constance of House Nuvelle, am most skilled at detecting dishonesty, and you are most certainly being dishonest right now!" Constance accused. "You are Emile von Bartels!"
"Emile..." Mercedes's sorrowful look filled him with shame.
"Sister...I didn't want you to see me like this," Jeritza said.
"Emile, how did you end up like this?" Her tone was not accusing, but was as compassionate as ever. "What happened to you?"
"I...Things got worse, after you and Mother left," Jeritza said. "I turned to violence as a result. Now, I can barely control myself. For your sakes, you should stay away from me."
"I daresay we are in no danger at present," Constance disagreed. "You do not have the Scythe of Sariel with you, nor any other weapon. And as skilled with magic as you may be, you cannot defeat Mercie and myself with just your magical skill."
"Emile," Mercedes pressed.
He sighed. "Very well." He told Mercedes the truth, and they both cried.
Edelgard hated paperwork. She swore war consisted of short bursts of fighting interspersed with massive piles of paperwork. Specifically, the paperwork she was working on now regarded the purchase of food from Dagda, as there was currently a shortage.
In retrospect, she should have waited to declare war until the planting season was over. That was yet another idiotic decision she had made. Fortunately, the treasury could still cover the expense.
When she heard a knocking at her door, she sighed. "If you're bringing more paperwork, take it to Hevring."
The door opened and Dedue entered the room. "May I speak with you?"
Edelgard sighed. "You might as well."
"Internal conflicts are taking place in Faerghus and Liecester," Dedue said. "The Blue Lions and the Golden Deer are both leaving in the morning to deal with them. I wanted to speak with you before we leave."
"What do you have to say?"
"You are struggling with yourself," Dedue said. "I want to help."
"You can't help me," Edelgard told him. "I am a failure. I'm the Emperor who declared war on people who did not deserve it for ideals I did not know how to implement in a way that would last. I fell into every trap Thales set for me. Had I succeeded in conquering Fódlan, I would have left it in ruins."
"All of those statements are true," Dedue admitted.
"So why bother helping me?" Edelgard asked.
"Tell me. The girl who attacked the Holy Tomb last year. Would she have told the truth about herself to her peers? Would she have promised to atone for her misdeeds? Would she have even accepted that she had misdeeds she needed to atone for?" Dedue asked. "Yes, the Edelgard from one year ago was a monster. Willing to lend herself to whatever cause or use happened to abate her own anger. The sort of person I would fight without hesitation or remorse. But does that Edelgard still exist?
"I know that in the wake of the Tragedy of Duscur, I would have gladly burned Faerghus to the ground if I had the power to do so. Had I not owed my life to Prince Dimitri, I likely would have tried. Now, I will defend it to my last breath. I am not the person I once was, and neither are you.
"Regardless of whether you think you have changed, you have, and you will continue to change. The person you will be in a year will be unrecognizable to you now. But you will only get there if you let it happen. If you do not kill yourself trying to force it."
Edelgard put down her pen. "Are you trying to talk me out of my plan?"
"No," Dedue told her. "Your future is yours to decide. But if you believe that dying the death of a hero will somehow change who you are, it will not. Only by living can you change yourself."
Edelgard looked at her paperwork. "Goddess. I probably look like shit."
"You definitely look like shit," Dedue told her. "Take this to your clerks, and get some sleep."
She bundled up the papers and prepared to do just that. Before leaving, she turned back to Dedue. "Thank you." Dedue smiled and nodded at her.