2nd day of the Lone Moon
Palace of Blaiddyd
Blaiddyd Territories, Fhirdiad
Holy Kingdom of Faerghus
Hey, Dimitri.
I hope you're doing okay. It's been hours since I left Garreg Mach. I'm writing this down in the carriage on the way home, and the ride isn't exactly what one would call smooth, so forgive me for the sloppy handwriting!
I actually stayed at the monastery for a day after you left. Funny, because I was already packing my things to go home, but Mercedes asked me to stay for another day. I guess that wouldn't hurt. . . that's what I told myself at least, but I kinda regretted it when Seteth began bringing up deadlines for our next story. Ugh, that old man just doesn't want to give me a break! But looking at the brighter side, staying actually felt nice, overall, because we don't always get the opportunity to see the professor, who made me reconsider my thoughts about my dreams of building the academy again. Did you know that the Officers' Academy would open again in the Great Tree Moon of the following year? I guess knowing that totally inspired me more, though honestly, the uncertainties are still there. . . The professor assured me though, that I can always start small so I wouldn't get too overwhelmed. . . And you know what? That makes sense. If I think of it that way, it makes things more reachable. I'm considering going back to that area near the borders of Ordelia. A building already exists, but the space should be ample enough for small classes. Big renovations could just be done when it's already necessary. Don't you think it's a nice idea?
Anyway, I figured I just wanna tell you. You did tell me you'll support my dreams, right? Seeing you moving forward to attain yours is something really inspiring too. Until next time.
Hilda
—
4th day of the Lone Moon
Palace of Blaiddyd
Blaiddyd Territories, Fhirdiad
Holy Kingdom of Faerghus
Dimitri,
Hey. I've been staying at our family estate since I arrived in Goneril. My brother was surprised, though I could tell how happy he was. To be honest, it doesn't really feel bad being here. For one, there are others cooking my food for me so I have more time to relax! But of course, I try not to indulge myself too much. In writing this letter to you, I am reminded not to go lazing around. See, even when you're far away, you still do your job to remind me to be productive. What great power you possess!
Anyway, my brother said that Gilbert had already left, though he didn't say where he planned to go. When I spoke with that old guy he's pretty hard-headed, so I wouldn't be surprised if you'd cross paths with him one day. I just hope he wouldn't force you into something you don't like. Just remember what Sylvain said, okay? Just do whatever makes you happy. And don't let others dictate what you'd do! Take great care, okay?
Hilda
—
11th day of the Lone Moon
Palace of Blaiddyd
Blaiddyd Territories, Fhirdiad
Holy Kingdom of Faerghus
Dimitri,
Snow is covering the lands entirely. All I see when I look into the windows are endless heaps of white and I'm fighting this big urge to nap all day. The winters are really harsher this time of the month. I know you're used to it, but I hope you are keeping yourself bundled up. Anyway, you know how our ancestors used to say that the Lone Moon is a perfect time to reflect since it's the end of the year? I've been doing that for quite some time, so I was thinking of formally starting arrangements for my academy at the Great Tree Moon. The spring weather would be perfect for—
"You've been writing a lot lately, haven't you?"
She almost squeaked upon hearing her brother's voice.
"Holst!" she exclaimed, hastily flipping the letter to hide its contents. An irritating smirk erupted from her brother's face as he pulled the chair beside her, taking a seat.
"So you got a new pen pal now that you're staying here, huh? I'd like to think you were this eager when you have been writing me letters all those years."
"But of course, brother!" she remarked with an overly jovial tone, bringing her hands together, "How could I not enjoy sending letters to this worrywart brother I obviously love every single month?"
Holst caught on her mockery, ruffling her hair before she managed to complain.
"Hooolst!"
He snickered, watching her in amusement as she tried to fix the tangles on her head. So annoying!
"By the way, not to pry or anything, but my eye caught the address of your recipient. A friend from Fhirdiad?"
Warmth surged to her cheeks. She secured the letter in her palms even more, even if she knew Holst had no intentions of taking it. "Is there a problem? You do know I have friends all over Fódlan."
"Not really. Just found it . . . I don't know, interesting, that you termed Faerghus as 'Kingdom.'"
"What do you mean? Their king, Dimitri, is alive." She caught herself using a tone that was almost too certain, so she retracted her statement, "H-he is, is he not?"
He looked away, placing his hands behind his head. "Of course I know. All thanks to my beloved sister."
Hilda couldn't read his tone very well. It was the first time the topic was brought out in the open between them.
"Honestly, I still can't fathom why you did what you did."
She held her breath.
'If I had been in Gronder with you, I would've given you an earful for your recklessness'—that was her interpretation of his words.
Holst finally looked at her. She only smiled sheepishly in return. Thankfully, his gaze eventually faltered.
"Eh, I don't really think your reasons are important now, since what matters is that you're safe. I'm not one to be lecturing you, since after all, I'm not exactly the least reckless one here."
Hilda gazed at the large scar across his arm—the terrible injury he sustained from battling with Nemesis. She realized at some point, she wanted to scold him a lot too. . . But when she learned how he had almost died, how it was a miracle that he still made it out alive, all the words were pushed away and she was just thankful he was still there.
"You. . . did that for the soldiers, right?" she said instead.
He only smiled faintly in return, sharing how he knew Nemesis wasn't an ordinary fighter the first time he saw him. That despite knowing how differently powerful he was, no matter how dire the odds, he still pressed on.
"Because I know I should," he remarked, as he brought his arm in front of him. "especially if I know there was still something I could do with these hands, no matter how small."
She gaped at him for a moment, familiar words ringing in her head, just as memories of her casting the lightning spell back in Gronder Field flickered in her mind. . .
Perhaps, it made sense; they were siblings, after all.
"Though, thinking about it, I'm still concerned about what possible repercussions you may have dealt with in doing that." Holst placed a hand under his chin in contemplation. "Maybe one day, if that crazy opportunity arises, I should challenge his royal majesty to a duel for the trouble he may have caused you."
She froze, recalling Dimitri's rather unfriendly entrance to her cabin the first time they saw each other since the war.
Hilda laughed awkwardly.
"Aww, you don't have to do that!"
She knew Holst meant it as a joke, so he might have assumed that she was just going along with it. However, she was actually serious. . . because even if he said it in jest, Dimitri would most likely accept anyway—insist on it, even.
"Anyway, I haven't heard from that Blaiddyd kid ever since. During the war, the Empire, through Cornelia Arnim, did everything within its power to change it to a Dukedom, so on official papers, it still is a Dukedom now, even if the rightful king happens to be alive. Since the war has ended, he hasn't made any public appearances yet, so technically, without the formal coronation rites too, its status has not returned to being a "Kingdom" yet. Of course, while I'm sure loyalists never referred to it as a Dukedom, I'm certain they'd prefer to push some sort of ceremony to cement the fact that Faerghus is a Kingdom."
Hilda found herself nodding. She didn't really dwell much on those technicalities, but it slowly dawned on her why Rodrigue and the others were so bent on having Dimitri return.
"But anyway, as you've said, you made friends from Faerghus, so it makes sense you'd write it as that. It must've been rough for them to fight against their king by siding with the Alliance."
Hilda hid a smile. Holst seemed to be under the assumption she was writing a letter to those "Kingdom friends" she made at the academy. That, or he was doing a great job pretending he didn't really see that she was writing to the king himself.
"That's war, I guess. I wonder how things in Faerghus will play out. What is their king doing now?"
Without speaking out loud, she wondered the same.
Towards the end of the Lone Moon, the temperature slowly rose up. Snow began to melt, and by the time the outside air was more tolerable for her skin, she decided it was time to visit her cabin again. Most of her important belongings were there, after all.
Once she arrived at the fields, she visited her neighbors first, who remarked how pleasant it was to see her again. She returned the greetings, just as she listened to all the stories they had for her.
"What happened to your friend?"
She forced a smile. "Oh, he had places to go to!"
"I see. He was really a kind lad, that one. Wherever he is, I hope he's safe."
She nodded, wondering what sort of things Dimitri had done for her neighbors to warrant such compliments. Thinking about it though, it shouldn't really be surprising.
Just before she bid them farewell, her neighbors advised her to check her messagebox.
"Not a lot go through these parts, especially in snowy conditions, but I am certain a messenger has been passing by the past days."
True enough, her usually empty mailbox had several pieces of unopened parchment. She took the bundle, looking at the symbol on the wax seal—nothing extraordinary about it as it seemed to be those generic ones that can be bought by common folk. Though her name was not indicated, the letters all seemed to be intended for her based on the address. No name of the sender was present, and the handwriting wasn't very familiar either.
She soon learned their identity once reading its contents.
—
5th day, Lone Moon
Goneril Residence at the Southern Fields
Goneril Territory
Leicester Alliance
I hope this message manages to reach your hands. As I traveled through the Gideon territory, I met a messenger who claimed he frequently ventured Faerghus and the Leicester Alliance. At this time I'm afraid I do not have access to any trustworthy messengers, but still I am taking my chances if it's the only way to reach you after our sudden parting. If I am fortunate enough for another opportunity, I will send you another letter once I arrive at my intended destination.
The weather continues to be rather harsh. Please keep yourself warm and take care always, my friend.
—
Her mouth gaped open. Without a doubt, it was from Dimitri. She opened the next letter, visibly lengthier than the first one.
—
17th day, Lone Moon
Goneril Residence at the Southern Fields
Goneril Territory
Leicester Alliance
It has been days since I last sent a letter. I pray you have been well? Please continue to exercise care.
Perhaps it is the work of fate, but I met the same messenger who was able to describe your lodgings as well as your benevolent neighbor's home, so I was assured that my letter safely reached you.
Onto the good news, I'm happy to share that I managed to locate Dedue. I was overjoyed to discover that the professor was correct; he had been staying at Duscur after the war. We were reunited two days ago, and his people were kind enough to allow me to stay in their humble abode. I confess they were rather wary of me at first, something I could not blame them for, but eventually the atmosphere had been warmer. They allowed me the opportunity of helping tend to their lands. Once spring arrives, the crops and flowers are sure to flourish more, or at least, Dedue has told me. Perhaps, one day, we could visit it together too if the idea pleases you. Maybe the experience would be reminiscent of our visits to Fódlan's Throat.
I hope I am not boring you too much with my words. I shall be ending this message now. And as promised, I am keeping this safe. Until next time.
—
Just beside the last paragraph was an arrow pointing to a scribble of a circular figure made of more circles with varying sizes. She pondered deeply on what it was until it hit her. Stifling a laugh, she finally deciphered it—a drawing of his gift to her, the bracelet with charms!
"Oh, Dimitri!" she remarked, "You should've written more, you dummy."
She realized she was still smiling as she opened the last letter. It was dated the 25th day of the Lone Moon, just a week from the current day. To her surprise, two dried petals fell from the letter just as she opened it. She set them aside on the table as she began reading.
—
25th day, Lone Moon
Goneril Residence at the Southern Fields
Goneril Territory
Leicester Alliance
Hello, my friend. Winds have been less cold lately. I continue to hope and pray that you are healthy and well.
It seems that my stay in Duscur has been prolonged, far more than what I initially planned. I discovered that the war seems to have left it in bad shape, and while the people seem to be recovering quite well, they still require help. In the duration of my stay, I assist them not only in tending to their fields, but also in helping them train to defend themselves.
Apparently the Viscount Kleiman had been missing since the war ended, and while it was a change that the people of Duscur welcomed, it still meant that the region was in disarray having no leader overseeing it. It would've become a haven for bandits had it not been for Dedue who repelled them; perhaps his return was also the work of fate, as he told me that during those times, he no longer had a sense of purpose and was simply aimlessly wandering back. It seems the event has awoken something in him. I for one certainly felt happy for him.
In sending you this letter, I intend to tell you that I plan to return to my birthplace in the next coming days. Even if I told Dedue that he was already free to choose his path, he insisted on accompanying me. He could be a rather stubborn man, but we have come into the agreement that if things do not go on as I wished in Fhirdiad, we go our separate ways. He seemed hesitant, but he agreed, anyway. I know deep in his heart that a part of him wishes to continue assisting his people and I do not wish to take him away from that. As for me, I'm not certain, but the world is really vast, isn't? Perhaps I will go see it with my own eyes. In the end, whether my people will still accept me or not, it is something I have to face, and no matter what happens, I will still feel thankful for these chances given to me.
I also regret to say that this may be my last letter, or until at least I have acquired means to communicate with you again. I'm afraid that the funds I currently have are only sufficient for my travel back to Fhirdiad. That should be all for now. I await the day that I can see you again.
Hilda noticed that at the bottom part of the parchment, there were words written in a smaller text.
I have included some petals from the flowers that Dedue planted. The color reminded me of your hair, so I had to pluck some. . . Don't worry! I made sure it didn't leave any awkward bald spots. I hope they haven't wilted too much by the time you receive this.
She took the pieces of petals tenderly; the colors at its edges were starting to fade, but overall was still pretty much intact.
She smiled, as a warm sensation radiated in her chest. . . Without thinking twice, she entered her room and arranged her tools, starting the process of preserving the petals in resin.
In the second week of the Great Tree Moon, she visited the southeastern part of Goneril territory, near the borders of Ordelia. She made settlements with the builders who were to provide necessary renovations on the building. It apparently used to be an inn that went out of business; with some adjustments the rooms would be perfect as classrooms and workstations.
She looked at the beautiful landscape from one of the large windows. The leaves were starting to grow once more, and flowers were starting to sprout from the grass.
The feeling of excitement tingled. It was a nice start of the year.
Just two days later, she felt like she had spoken too soon. . .
The remnants of the empire and Slithers were detected at Northern and Southern Fódlan.
She knew anytime soon, they were bound to attack.
"What do we do, Holst?" Her voice was panicked, worried. The last time she recalled feeling that way was when she learned how close Shambhala was from their territory. It was frightening to think how they could just sprout out of their noses. . . Send javelins of light through the sky and destroy an entire fortress. . .
She shook her head, trying to get a hold of herself.
"For now, I've increased the number of soldiers guarding our gates." Holst said, tightening the straps on his gauntlets. "Messengers haven't arrived yet. We've yet to receive new updates from the leader too. Until then, it's best to be on stand-by. The Great Bridge of Myrddin still stands, but we don't know if groups are also lingering within the Alliance area."
She nodded, admiring how calm her brother seemed to be. She wished she could also possess the amount of composure he had.
She headed to their weapon vault, preparing herself for the worst.
She couldn't sleep well that night.
The next day, she remained by her brother's side, awaiting news. After grueling hours of waiting, the messenger arrived, telling them that various groups began attacking Enbarr, likely trying to occupy the empty palace as their base. Scattered troops were reported to emerge in different parts of Faerghus. The professor's army went south, while troops from House Daphnel were sent as reinforcements for armies in the north. The rest of the Alliance armies were instructed to monitor activities in their own areas.
They had no clue about their enemies' exact numbers. Holst told her that since there was no urgency in calling for reinforcements, they were likely able to keep things in control. They shouldn't act rashly, he reminded her, since they had a duty to defend their lands as well. At that moment, all they could do was trust in their comrades.
Hilda prayed hard once more, that no one, not any of her friends would be hurt. She wished for the madness to be over.
Every time a messenger arrived to give reports, her heart skipped a beat, a sinking feeling emanating in her gut. Enemies at the south were successfully defeated. No news yet from the north.
After excruciatingly long hours, another messenger arrived, telling them that enemies gathered in Fhirdiad. Before she could make any sort of connection, he told them how the forces defending Faerghus emerged victorious, all thanks to their lost king who significantly turned the tides upon his return.
The following days had been rather busy. Defenses were still rather heightened as seen with the increased number of guards patrolling, but things were pretty much back to normal after the sudden emergence of their foes.
Hilda continued to oversee the construction of her academy, making sure the builders were doing things as she planned. She stayed at one of the building's cleaner, vacant rooms, going through the documents about properties, financial assistance and all other pertinent things. Sometimes, she surprised herself with the fact that she wasn't as overwhelmed as she would have thought. . . Still, it didn't mean she wasn't prone to having daydreams from time-to-time.
Her mind had specifically been wandering to Fhirdiad during those moments. As she was writing a draft for potential instructors to invite, she remembered all the unsent letters she had made for Dimitri. She didn't have any intention of sending them after completing each one; after all, that time, she had no idea where on Fódlan he actually was. Sure, she knew he was heading to Duscur, but what would she tell the messenger? Look all over that place and hand it over to a tall guy with an eyepatch? The last thing she wanted to happen was for her letters to fall into the wrong hands.
Perhaps, a part of her also had hoped that he would achieve his dreams and return to his home, which was why she addressed it to the palace in the first place. It took her longer than she would have liked to realize that it was exactly what was occurring, so it should be the perfect time to send them. . .
Her brows furrowed.
Or was it, really? Especially since as the new king, she imagined he was likely bombarded with several documents, letters and responsibilities. . .
She shrugged. She'll send them, anyway. Probably after writing a new one. Heartfelt regards and congratulations were in order, after all!
She did not expect a quick reply two days later. Dimitri thanked her for everything, and owed it to her that he could finally come back home without a heavy heart. Aside from his well-wishes and promises of supporting her academy, he spoke about wishing to see her again, which made her heart flutter badly. . .
She immediately grabbed a parchment, writing out her thoughts.
What is with the quick reply, Dimitri?! Well, not that I'm complaining, really, but surely, you have far more important things to do?
She continued to ramble about reminding him to rest and not to take everything too hard, because the last thing that she wanted to hear was that the King of Faerghus would end up missing again just because he was burnt out from all the work everyone was shoving onto him! She paused to think whether it was okay to ask if she could visit him at Fhirdiad—after all, she had always wanted to visit that place!—when their family messenger appeared again, delivering another letter. Her eyebrows rose as she read the sender's name and its contents. An invitation?
From the high balconies, a vast landscape of pine trees was seen swaying against the winds, various wyverns flying across the seemingly endless skies. Behind her, footsteps resounded against the beautiful marble floors.
"Well, how do you like this place?"
Hilda turned, brushing the long strands of her hair behind her ear.
"Not bad!" she remarked with enthusiasm, "Great place you have, really. Wish you would've invited me sooner."
And she meant every word with sincerity. Once upon a time, perhaps she had been too ignorant of the world, having preconceived notions of certain individuals based only from stories she had heard. Thinking about it she certainly wasn't proud of the way she thought of them before, but she was thankful that she had met Claude and made her realize the errors of her way of thinking. . .
He walked beside her, leaning his arms on the balustrade as she did. The regal yellow garments he wore shone under the sunlight. At the back of her mind, she thought that her friend was really a sight to behold!
"I noticed you haven't been regularly responding to the letters I've sent. Figured you've been too busy, which I actually confirmed when you sent me that formal letter asking for potential artisan partners for your academy."
"Heh, thanks for responding promptly! But yeah, sure, maybe I had been busy, but you never really sent an invitation even before you know? I would've come if you asked. Not like you're that far away, Mr. Leader Man."
Claude brushed his hand against his hair, which had grown longer from what she recalled. He chuckled. "Just kidding. Let me correct myself. We were both busy. I just figured this would've been the correct timing too; hitting two birds with one stone?"
"Yeah, I guess this is the perfect chance." She grinned. "You're such a big shot now, Claude. Or should I begin to call you, 'Your Future Kingliness?'"
He groaned loudly, much to her amusement. It was always nice catching him off-guard, especially by using his own little jokes.
"Speaking of kings and Kingliness though, I'm sure you've heard of Dimitri?"
Aaand she must've thought too soon too, because it was her turn to be completely caught off-guard.
"O-oh, yes. I've heard," she remarked, hoping she didn't seem too startled, but the problem was she was with Claude—cunning, observant Claude who was already studying her reactions even more. In a desperate attempt she avoided eye contact, looking ahead instead as she twirled some of her hair around her fingers. Think, Hilda! Fill in the void! "I'm really happy for him, y'know? After everything that happened, he could finally do what he wanted without anyone forcing him to, and. . ."
Her voice trailed off, her back then straightening, realizing what she had just revealed.
She mentally smacked herself. Wrong move, Hilda. Wrong move.
Because in his eyes, how would she know all of that? Reports indicated that House Goneril stayed in their territories and was not involved in the war at Northern Fódlan. Before that, Dimitri's whereabouts were not known by many.
She groaned. She was certain Claude already caught on.
"Hilda," he started, "is there something you haven't told me?"
Her shoulders slumped in defeat. Now that Dimitri was officially back, she figured there wasn't any use in hiding it any longer, anyway.
She explained everything herself, telling him that Dimitri had stayed with her for roughly five moons. Careful not to dwell too much on details for her own dignity—because Claude, despite being a very close friend, was still a guy and such a teasing one too!—she instead focused on the circumstances along with his decisions during their last visit at Garreg Mach.
"Pfft, so I guess I was right all along," he remarked as soon as she finished speaking, "Who knew the two of you really had a secret relationship?"
She glanced at him momentarily, rolling her eyes at the smirk forming on his face before looking back at the scenery ahead of them.
"We're just friends, Claude. There is nothing going on between us."
From the corners of her eyes she saw him shrugging.
"Maybe not now, from what I can see. Which is understandable, I guess, since both of you have some stuff you need to deal with first."
"Well, I wouldn't equate my level of 'busyness' with his. Mine's just a small school. His is a whole bunch of territories!"
"Hey, don't downgrade your efforts like that! I mean, look at you, doing negotiations outside of Fódlan. Plus, you have a set goal: opening it by the Horsebow Moon, correct? That's actually very admirable."
She puffed her cheeks. "But I have you to thank for that, y'know! Anyway, you have to admit that it is hard to rule over such vast lands."
Claude made a sound of amusement. "Fine, I get your point. So then you are implying that between the two of you, you will be taking the first step?"
Her cheeks turned warm, still rather embarrassed at the thought of openly speaking the topic with Claude.
"I-I don't know! But I don't think it's about who's taking the first step or not." That, she knew, because she wasn't an idiot in the matters of love. Perhaps, it would be presuming of her to think that way, but she could tell, she could feel Dimitri's longing with the letter he sent because she believed that's how stupidly sincere and dedicated he was, finding time to reply to her obviously not-so urgent letter amidst of all the other work he needed to do. "It's more of. . .the correct timing?"
Yeah, it's all about timing, she affirmed herself. Dimitri had some stuff he needed to do, much like her. She recalled the rift between them. . .
Hilda turned to Claude, only to see that he had been looking at her already.
"You know what's odd, Claude? I wouldn't consider myself as a patient person but. . . With him, I don't know? I'm willing to wait."
She paused, then stifling a laugh. At the back of her head, she hoped, with that stupid overconfidence she realized she had, that Dimitri was willing to wait for her too. A part of her was telling her she shouldn't feel that way—after all, she of all people would know the pain of expecting something and ending up not receiving it in the end. It was much easier to handle her feelings when she ended up not doing anything and then expecting the disappointments going along with it, rather than sincerely exerting efforts for something only for said efforts to be shrugged off and be met with comparisons and hurtful words like "you didn't try hard enough."
She pushed her thoughts away, instead focusing on the amount of faith she had for Dimitri. Perhaps that made her a fool, but she found herself not caring. She sighed.
"Is this what it means to be stupidly in love?"
Claude was silent for a while, but he did not break eye contact when he finally said, "Yeah, maybe?"
She gasped, totally not anticipating his reaction.
"How juicy! I wasn't expecting you to agree."
"Well, what can I say?" He shrugged, turning his eyes to the horizon. "I just think I'm in a similar situation."
His words made her ponder for a moment. . . Until she felt she connected everything. She pointed a finger towards him.
"Oh, right! You totally mean the professor, right?"
She was rather pleased with her conclusion; she recalled the way Claude smiled whenever he spoke with the professor before!
But to her surprise, Claude didn't answer, and the long pause between them made her confidence falter a bit. . .Before she could revert her any of her statements, however, he shut his eyes, grinning widely.
"Who knows but me?"
"No fair." She pouted. "I told you my secrets."
Claude crossed his arms, tapping a finger under his chin.
"Well, I introduced you to my parents today. Not everyone gets that chance, y'know."
"Fine, fine. We're even, then. But still! I'm curious! Why don't you do something about it, those feelings of yours?" she asked, hoping to fish for more information. Hoping that perhaps, Claude would tell her something that would help in her situation too.
"With the way things are now, I figured it's best if I shouldn't." He winked. "Like you said, it's all about the timing."
She observed him for several moments before deciding to say, "You're really hard to grasp, Claude."
He chuckled, but before he could say anything else, a series of knocks interrupted their exchange; the artisans open for partnerships had arrived. Too rattled with the sudden arrival of potential prospects, she no longer noticed how Claude muttered that between the two of them, she was the one even harder to grasp.
The following days, she continued exchanging letters with Dimitri.
As she was telling him about her plans for visiting potential instructors in the next moon, he told her about the gradual, steady progress of the development in Fhirdiad. Since various structures had been destroyed in the war, restoration efforts were continuously being done. He hoped by the next Great Tree Moon, it would return to its former glory. Just as she was thinking she wanted to see the place with her own eyes, she learned that Dimitri had been thinking the same with the last words he wrote on the letter.
In the Harpstring Moon, Holst told her that the professor called for a summit between all the leaders inside and outside Fódlan. She eventually learned of it from Dimitri's perspective too, who briefly mentioned how he had spoken with Claude as well. She wondered if they talked about anything.
Days and weeks had passed, and the letter exchanging continued. Visiting each other had occasionally been brought up in their messages, but it seemed fate was playing games with them. Whenever he had negotiations within the Alliance territory, she was somewhere else far; whenever she was in Faerghus, on the other hand, he ventured away to different territoties. It came to a point where he suggested making adjustments in his schedules so he could visit her personally, but she was against it—as romantic as it sounded, the idea of a king cancelling much more important meetings for the sake of visiting this one girl did not sit well with her gut, and she hated to think that all his hard-earned efforts would be overshadowed with such unfair judgment of character. Instead, she suggested adjusting her schedule so she could accomodate a trip to his lands, but he didn't seem pleased with it, telling her he would not want to hinder her productivity. She wanted to argue that she could make things work but. . . Who was she kidding? Just three moons left until the opening of her academy, and things were more hectic than usual. . .
Eventually, they just gave up in their attempts to set up a meeting convenient for both of them.
'Let's stop testing fate! I'm sure it would eventually give up messing with us,' she wrote in jest, deciding to end her letter with an invitation to him to visit her on the Horsebow Moon instead, which marked the opening of her academy.
It was really all about timing perhaps, she told herself.
A single moon was left until the Horsebow Moon. By that time, building renovations had been completed, the rooms almost completely furnished, but it didn't mean she no longer had any jobs to do. She still needed to finish more documents that had piled up, and then she still had to study various ways to do her craft while documenting them with her own words. The rain brought by the cloudy skies often made her stay indoors, and it was totally not helping her situation.
"Say Holst," she initiated one particularly rainy day, dropping all the paperwork and making her way to the windows, "how long have you been governing our territories again?"
She felt her brother's eyes watching her as she glanced through the windows. The glass was cold against her palms. Perhaps the rain was making her gloomy and strangely contemplative.
"Well, as soon as I began to learn how to read and when they discovered I had a crest, father had introduced me to the basics of ruling. But officially? I guess right after I graduated from the academy."
She nodded, tracing the droplets that ran down against the glass with her finger.
"I see. . ."
"Hm? Why the sudden interest?"
"Nothing!" she immediately responded, trying to dismiss the whole thing. She attempted to go the other way but her brother effectively blocked her path with his body.
"Hilda," he spoke with a tone that he often used whenever she attempted to escape from something.
She groaned in defeat.
"Fine. I'm just thinking how. . .brilliant you are compared to me." She bit her lip. She was starting to hate the weather; it's really making her all moody!
Holst himself didn't seem pleased. "I don't want to hear any of this self-deprecation. Not in this house."
Her eyes turned to slits as she crossed her arms. "Well, I guess I better go back to the cabin, then!"
She made another attempt to walk away but with a single stride he blocked her path again. Ugh.
"Hilda. . ."
"But seriously, brother. With your achievements, you're primarily the reason why our territories prospered this much." She stubbornly turned to her side, refusing to meet his gaze. "Meanwhile, I'm just. . . Me! I am way behind my schedule for these documents and I still need to complete these module plans and why did I decide to set up the school in a season that is just oh-so full of temptation to just stay bundled in bed and—!"
She realized she had been pacing around had it not been for Holst who completely made her stop in her tracks by firmly placing his hands on her shoulders.
"Okay, Hilda, okay, calm down." He guided her to the chairs. "Let's sit down first, shall we?"
She relented, taking a deep breath as she did.
"Sorry. It's just. . .hard, Holst. How are you able to manage our large territories, Mr. Greatest General of the Leicester Alliance?"
Her brother looked at her for a while, before breathing hard himself.
"That 'greatest general' thing just brings unnecessary pressure, honestly. As for that, I guess I'm just lucky enough to have won all those battles to be gifted with such a prestigious title." He turned to her. "And securing our territories and making it prosper? I guess I'm just lucky too? I mean, I'm not sure if that would've happened in my time if not for the joint efforts of our parents and ancestors. I'm just continuing on from where they left off."
He proceeded to ruffle her hair again. It surprised her that she no longer found the urge to slap his hand away.
"Meanwhile, look at you, dear sister. You wielded our family relic and helped in ending the long war. And after peace was restored, you're building your own academy, right from scratch! If that doesn't make you brilliant, brave, I don't know what would."
Her brother's words lingered in her mind, just as she remembered all the people that believed in her.
For the first time in her life, she felt she could truly attain whatever it was that she wanted to reach, and whatever she felt like she deserved. . .