POV: Hubert
"Edelgard! My eternal rival!"
Goodness, here he goes again. This spectacle never fails to get old.
Lady Edelgard breezily runs her gaze over the top of his head. "Ferdie."
"I am Ferdinand von Aegir, legitimate and eldest son of House Aegir!"
When you hit the right buttons, he ruffles up like a plump chick with homicidal tendencies.
At Lady Edelgard's request, I haul out the wagon of weapons. Her pinkie curling around the shaft of a Silver Axe, she lifts the immense thing as one would toss tissue paper into the air.
"Well?" she says. "Pick up your weapon, Ferdie."
The poor fool balks at the sight of his opponent. Yet he balls his fists, digs his hands into the heap of metal, yanks with all his might, slips, and falls flat on his round stomach.
"Oh dear!" I say with theatrical surprise. "No one saw that coming!"
Blinking away angry tears, Ferdinand pulls out the only thing he can wield: a Training Axe, and brandishes it at Lady Edelgard, who flicks a fireball that knocks the weapon out of his grip.
"I can cast magic too!" he huffs.
He cannot. The more he wishes for thunderbolts to fly from his palms, the more he looks like a fool.
"You'll get there, Ferdie."
"You are mocking me," he says, voice strained.
I gasp loudly. "Us? Belittle you? Come now, Ferdie, we all know what you've known all along. You consider Lady Edelgard your opponent, but she does not even consider you a contender."
Ferdinand storms out of the mansion.
"I don't think he took that very well," Lady Edelgard says.
"He will never survive in this cold, cruel world."
"Hubert."
"With all due respect, Lady Edelgard, you are superior to him in every way."
"I think he was crying."
"That's what he excels at."
She lifts a perfect eyebrow. I raise my hands in compliance.
"I'll bring him something to assuage his bruised ego."
"Wise choice, Hubert. I would join you, but my uncle wishes to see me, so I might meet up with you again later this evening."
Her uncle…?
"You don't look so good," she notes.
"I-I'm fine. Pardon me."
I leave the Imperial Palace feeling as though I was dipped in gasoline. The sunlight is harsh, a rare sight in these smoky Enbarr skies, yet I am shivering. Until I am a good distance away from the mansion do these tremors cease.
Control yourself, Hubert. You exist to serve the royal family. You mustn't allow personal feelings to impede with your duty, understand?
Breathing through my mouth, I weave across the twisting city streets to the flower field beyond the threshold of civilization. This is our special place, after all. No one save for us knows its existence.
"Ferdinand," I call like a tired mother locating her excessively energetic son in a formal party.
An orange head pokes out from a curtain of sunflowers.
"What do you want, Hubert?"
"I want you to stop moping and act your age. Will your father approve of your behavior?"
"Please don't tell my father! I'll master magic soon, I swear it! On my honor as a noble, I will surpass Edelgard!"
Fortunately, he is no longer angry with me. That's one trait worth commending: he is incapable of holding grudges. A rarity among our war-loving higher society.
"What fabulous weather," Ferdinand remarks. "The sun makes one want to burst into song!"
"Don't."
"Reach for my hand! I'll fly away. Into the dawn, oh I wish I can stay!"
A blade of grass snaps behind me. Lightning crackling from my fingertips, I turn around…
"Your Highness!" Ferdinand exclaims.
The girl dressed in winter's blues buries her shame in a sunflower.
"You again?" I snap.
"I-I'm sorry," she squeaks.
Ferdinand ushers our stalker into the open. He gently grasps her dainty hands, squeezing them until they stop shaking. Those powdery blue eyes sheepishly look up and dart away.
Goodness, I feel a headache coming.
"I thought you went back to the Kingdom!" Ferdinand says.
"Not until Rodrigue finishes procuring supplies."
"What did Edelgard say about the dagger?"
"I didn't give it to her yet."
"Cold feet," I say dryly.
Ferdinand shoots me a look. To the girl, he places a hand above his chest and beams. "Well, you are welcome to stay with us until you leave. We appreciate your company."
The girl smiles. She is missing her front teeth. Lady Edelgard has a full, proper mouth.
"You sang beautifully," she says softly.
Blood shoots up Ferdinand's face, coloring the whole meaty mass a scarlet shimmer. Between stammering fits, he manages to squeeze out a hoarse, "T-Truly?"
"Truly. Your voice was a thread of Gautier cheese melted over a sautéed flounder."
"What is wrong with you?" I blurt.
"Hubert," Ferdinand huffs. "They express themselves differently in Faerghus. All the same, I appreciate any compliments that I am given."
"Do you dance?" the girl says.
That, and Ferdinand puffs up like a peacock. "Of course! At my first ball in the Imperial Capital, everyone was quite impressed with my dancing skills."
"You danced like a heron with one leg tied to its wing."
"For the love of the goddess, Hubert!"
The girl giggles, as though our bickering is that hilarious. "El taught me how to dance. Will you care to help me practice, Ferdinand?"
Lady Edelgard taught this thimble how to dance? When? Why does she dedicate so much of her precious energy with someone not from the Empire?
The girl extends her hand. Ferdinand accepts it. At the first count, they both step on each other's left foot. How they manage that miracle, only the blind goddess knows. At the second count, the girl flings Ferdinand into a rose bush several meters away.
"I'm sorry!" she yelps. "Rodrigue told me to be mindful of my own strength, but…"
"No need to apologize!" he replies while blood squirts out of his skull. "I simply tripped, is all."
During a spin, the girl yanks him a tad too hard that they both fall over. Only, he reacts just in time, wrapping his arms around her waist and inhaling her into his chest.
"Are you all right?" he shouts.
She only stares at him, lips open to no sound.
"You are very warm! Please rest in the shade!"
The girl breaks herself out of his embrace. Judging from his strangled cry, she must've pulled some arm sockets.
"I-I am sorry! Please excuse me!"
And… she is gone.
Checking up on our dear Ferdie, I see that his left bicep has swollen to the size of a grapefruit. The bruising on his skin is reminiscent of spilled lacquer on marble floors.
"Ow! Hubert, don't poke it!"
"Are you crying again?"
"Hubert, it hurts!"
"We ought to take you to the apothecary."
At once, he blanches. "No! They will most certainly tell my father, who will assume that I engaged in some street scuffle. Nobles do not partake in petty violence! I will drag my family name through the mud!"
Ever the dramatic, as always.
"Lady Edelgard might find it in her heart to spare some Priests," I say.
"Can't you heal me?"
From the day we were born, we were trained to be assassins. Tools of the Imperial Emperor. Healing and flying are not priorities in the von Vestra lineage.
I glance at the sky. Heavy clouds have begun to obscure the sun. Far in the horizon, cold winds blow in the angry rumbling of incoming thunder.
Best to hurry.
We reach the Imperial Palace just as the storm is making itself known.
"Is no one here?" Ferdinand mumbles.
The mansion is dark. Even if the royal family had left for business, there should still be servants around. Yet I find no one in the gardens. Not a soul.
Dead leaves scrape across our feet.
Creaking open the grand wooden doors, I peek inside. Strange. I've grown up within these walls, yet I do not recognize these halls. Something about the shadows, how they permeate deep within the thickest fabric, distort any warm associations I have with this place.
Ferdinand squeezes my hand. I do not pull away.
"Something is very wrong," he whispers. As though there are eavesdroppers around.
"Don't be silly."
As much as I wish to believe my doubt, I cannot shake this nagging feeling in the back of my skull. When has home felt so… foreign?
Rain begins to tap the windows. Dragging Ferdinand along, I quietly make way to Lady Edelgard's quarters. Why cam I even moving like a burglar in my own house? I blame Ferdinand's wild fantasies. His baseless fears infest my lens of reason.
"Lady Edelgard?" I call. Even my voice is but a mouse's chatter.
Something crashes in the foyer. A hat rack. Felled to a clap of thunder.
"We should leave," Ferdinand hisses.
For once, we agree on something.
Then the pounding starts. It seems to be coming from… under the floorboards? The basement is only used to store precious wines and teas… as far as I am concerned.
Thump.
Thump thump.
"H-Help!"
For what seems to be a long, painful eternity, Ferdinand and I hold on to each other, our hearts thrashing in cacophonous harmony. We both heard it. That was no trick of the storm.
"Out the window," I say.
"We have to help!" he says while his body trembles like a brittle leaf. "As our duties as n-n-nobles!"
Nobility aside, that cry could've come from a servant. Something must've happened then. But are two boys, not yet breaching the age of 10, prepared for what awaits them?
Nonetheless, hand-in-hand, Ferdinand and I creep down the staircase. A white flash illuminates the fresh dark puddles. The fear shining in bloodshot eyes.
"Help!" croaks Lady Edelgard's eldest sister.
Fear pulsating in my blood, I rush to her side at once. Her silken robe hangs from exposed limbs as tattered rags. Lacerations meander across skin like a map marked with a knife. An iron collar, fastened by chains, hangs around her neck.
"V-Von Vestra," she wheezes, blood frothing from her punctured lips. "Edelgard is… Uncle is not…"
That sentence will never be completed, for a blast of ancient magic tears the skin off her bones. Chunks of flesh and tissue explode like confetti during a ball, dousing everything in a shower of pungent fluid.
There are viscera in my hair. My hands are wet from organic matter.
Far, far away, someone is screaming my name. It is difficult to make out that voice when my ears are jammed with cotton.
"One rat escaped," a voice says close to me. A rasp like a snake slithering in the dark. "But its death led me to the nest."
"Y-You! You are—"
"Ah, the son of that greedy pig. Is the Prime Minister aware that you've been sullying his name by befriending a von Vestra?"
"N-No! Stay back! Please, we won't tell anyone—AHH!"
"Do not kill him, Solon. These two will be suitable replacements for the one that tried to get away. Prepare the cages."
The darkness falls over me, squeezing every last bubble of oxygen from my lungs. A claw descends, sinks into my chin, and tilts my head up to meet a familiar, smiling face.
"Edelgard is waiting for you," Lord Arundel says.
And my world goes black.