"Hey Hilda, could you come with me?"
Ignatz's voice was familiar and a nice distraction. Not like these new rations didn't need to be counted and organized, but she was having a hard time focusing on the counting. Or even the organizing, which she was normally good at. She glanced at the soldier who was her second in this particular assigned duty. He smiled warmly and nodded at her to take a break.
Hilda turned. "Yes, what is it?"
He still had the same air about him. The same gloom. They all did. Even her reflection had it. It was hard not to feel the pressures of war when you fought old classmates. Old friends. And had them die by your hand. Simply because they believed differently than you.
"I have something I would like to show you."
When he turned to head back toward the dormitories, she knew he wanted to show her a painting. They all had taken up residence in their old rooms- not that much of anything they originally abandoned had survived. Even despite the obvious and necessary changes, Ignatz's room had changed the most. While he spent his academy years pretending that he had no interest in painting, his room was now basically a studio. He spent all his extra money on painting supplies and canvases, and even if nobody else noticed, Hilda appreciated it. Over the last couple of months since they'd recovered the monastery, he'd fixed up the handful of paintings that were left and painted several new ones.
"So, what did you paint this time?" This was the hardest part for her. She'd always been the social one. But not now. Now she just wanted the world to be quiet. Yet, everyone still expected her to start and uphold all conversations.
"Oh, I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise." He didn't say anything else, but didn't make her pressured to fill the silence either. Instead, he simply smiled at her. While not a happy smile, it was the most hopeful and peaceful she'd seen any of them since Gronder Field.
She accepted his silence. It was strangely comforting to walk side by side without any conversation. Once again, she was reminded of how inspiring Ignatz could be. While he didn't think much of himself, he always went out of is way to be kind to others. No matter how he felt.
Their walk was far too short. Ignatz hurried the last few steps to his bedroom door, holding it open for her. "See?"
Hilda stepped inside. Her breath hitched in her lungs. She didn't know what she had been expecting, but it surely wasn't this.
Prince Dimitri stood at the head of the Blue Lions' classroom. Not the vengeance-crazed version they saw at Gronder Field, but as they knew him during their academy days. Calm, peaceful, and a budding leader trying to do right by his people and the legacy before him. Their friend.
Tears she'd been trying to hide overflowed.
"O-oh! Hilda, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." Ignatz reached for her, but pulled back in a panic. He danced from foot to foot, unsure of how to react.
It took a moment for Hilda to recompose herself enough to hiccup out a few words. "No- No, Ignatz, it's perfect."
His dancing paused mid-shift. "Wait, it's perfect? Then why are you crying?"
"Yes, it's perfect." Hilda sniffled around the words. "I've been crying so much for our friends, and the way they fell. Especially Dimitri. This… I needed this. This painting of him; this cry. Thank you, Ignatz."
Wiping away some makeup she knew was running by now, Hilda stepped closer to him. Hugged him. It took a moment for him to respond, but when he did he hugged her tight. If he sniffled a few times while she cried on his shoulder, she pretended not to notice.
"You know," he stated quietly, his words barely more than a scratchy whisper. "I think I needed to paint him too. To honor him in the best way I could. I wanted to paint him closer, but I couldn't remember clearly enough how he looked to get all the details right. It's been five years after all."
"I still think it's perfect." Hilda pulled away from him and turned back toward the painting. "He looks just as I remember. You did a wonderful job, Ignatz. We need to find a proper place to hang it."
"Yes, I think that's a great idea. We can build a frame for it too." His hopeful smile was back, and this time it gave her hope too.
"I think a frame is a great idea. We should hang it in the old Blue Lions' classroom. Maybe engrave a plaque too. It could read: 'Prince Dimitri, the last of the royal Blaiddyd bloodline.'"