#mentioned bernadetta

Hm. A shame indeed. I’m confident the Black Eagles would have been delighted to show the former Lord Varley about the grounds, from its highest terraces to its lowest cliffsides. In that order directly. For who can control the whims of the wind? Greater tragedies have befallen greater people.

Still... I cannot complain about the course we’ve taken. I revel in knowing that he has been stripped of all power, placed under house arrest, and answering to his wife. She is not much better than him, but it is amusing to imagine his torment in being subservient to his spouse. And, should he wish to bring it all to an end, he can merely set foot outside his estate.

Panic attacks...? You mean like Bernadetta? I don’t know if it’s grief or stress, but that poor girl is really easy to scare.

Anyway, since I’m not really sure what they are, I’m probably not the best person to ask, but... I guess I’d give them their space. Let them make the rules for how much contact is too much, that kind of thing. 

“Dear Hubert,

There is something I need to confess. I know something that I shouldn’t, and this secret’s been on my chest for too long now. It’s making me a worse soldier. The truth is, the reason I’ve gone back to avoiding you recently isn’t because you’re scaring me, or because you’re forgetting about the flower. It’s because…”

There are several scribbled out lines, as though the author could not figure out how to say what she wanted to. The final draft reads,

“I was supposed to train with Petra in the training grounds one afternoon. But when I got there, I realized I forgot my water canteen, and went back to my dorm room for it. But right when I was about to open the door, I heard you talking to Ferdinand.”

There is more scribbling. However, this time the words “about imported tea” are somewhat readable.

“It seemed really important to you. And the last thing I wanted was to upset you or embarrass you by opening my door and going back to the training grounds. Because I thought you might not want to be friends anymore if you knew that I knew before you told everyone.”

There are a few splotches on the parchment here, as though the writer were in tears.

“Why am I telling you this now? It’s because last week we were supposed to do Stable Duty together, and you were being so nice to me, and I totally ignored you. And I could tell I might be hurting your feelings…and I just missed you and thought I owed you the truth. It’s okay if you don’t want me in the army anymore, or if you don’t want to be friends anymore. But I couldn’t stop feeling guilty, so I knew I had to say something. I’m really, really, really sorry!

Your (hopefully) friend, Bernadetta.

PS: if it’s worth anything I’m really happy for you!”

((A note for the mun! It’s cause I noticed their A+ appears to be outside the first floor dorms, so I was curious if a certain someone may have overheard…))

Bernadetta,

While the moment was decidedly personal, it was our oversight to have it in a public space. You are not even slightly at fault for this—situation.

That said, I would prefer that we keep the subject between you and I for the time being. I hope that sharing this secret with me will absolve you of this unwarranted guilt. Rest assured that I do have the flower you gifted me, but I must choose to wear it at selective moments. I trust that you understand.

You have my apologies for not noticing that you had nearly opened the door. I should have been more attentive. Such negligence will not happen again.

When we decide to tell everyone... what we wish to tell, I will inform you in person. Flower properly affixed and all.

As much as I am disappointed in myself for this lapse on my part, it would still not be sufficient to end our friendship. At least not on my behalf.

May this thought be some comfort in darker times. There’s no need to shed tears over something that will not come to pass.

I was concerned that I had frightened you, and the prospect did sadden trouble me, but I am glad to have been mistaken. Your companionship was sorely missed as well. You owe me no apology, but I will accept it if that negates your misplaced guilt.

Regards,

Hubert von Vestra

Thank you.

“Dear Hubert,

When I came here a half moon ago to deliver my report, I saw you have one of those war strategy tables with the little figurines on it. I’ve been a little stressed about the war, and since we’ll be fighting her soon, I made something to represent Rhea’s spooky beast form. Maybe you can put it on your table when you’re planning with Lady Edelgard and Ferdinand! And when the war’s done you can set it on fire.

Yours truly, Bernadetta.”

Inside the parcel is a small crocheted plushie of a white dragon. It is far cuter than the Immaculate One, but of a small enough size to be practical for the war table. Perhaps in reference to her comment about setting it aflame when the war is won, it appears to have been stuffed with dried incense leaves.

Hm. She is a quick one. Were she more inclined by disposition, Bernadetta could be quite the advanced spy. Ah, well. Better that she isn’t.

The figurine is far more valuable besides. More still for knowing it helped her destress to craft it. Still, it’s only right to respond to her letter.

Dorothea: Hey, Ferdinand. Why so blue?

Ferdinand: I... just got so much love inside~

Dorothea: Well y'know I got this friend of mine, too. Remember Hubert?

Hubert, pops out of nowhere: Ok I'll take it from here, goodbye!

You talk so loud~ You take care of your mother and you make her proud! You write your own poetry every night when you go to sleep- -And I'm seizing the moment, so would you wake up and notice me?

Ferdinand, stunned: Hubert... I see you...

Hubert: And I hear you!~

Dorothea and Bernadetta in the background: YES!

Ferdinand: Let's get married~

Hubert: Slow down!

Dorothea informed me she was working on various plays regarding our time during the war. I should have realized this is what she had in mind far sooner.

If nothing else, I can properly inform her on how I would dismiss someone from my company if necessary. I suppose she can be forgiven on account of taking... creative license. She wasn’t present, after all, when we...

“Um,” she says instead, “S-since you missed dinner with everyone, I b-brought this for you. You. Um. You don’t have to eat it. But I thought. If you did. Maybe we could…eat together? Since you said you’d…still like to be friends?”

Bernadetta grips her own plate a bit tighter for a moment, and then sits down, careful not to get close. “Did you know when we were students, Claude t-tried to recruit me? You know, to his class? Can you guess why? I-it’s because he knew I was good with plants. He thought I might know a lot about poison. A-and can you guess why I said no?”

She takes a deep breath, but she smiles and says, “It’s because, even when I w-was a recluse, you and Lady Edelgard still tried to make me feel comfortable. E-even though I told you back then that it wasn’t working. I still knew. So. Um. The end. You don’t have to eat that. But if you wait too long the spice blend I made will get soggy….!”

Bernadetta. I confess, I feel rather special to be graced with your company.

Not to put you on the spot, of course. It’s thoughtful of you to go out of your way on my account, however unnecessary. You certainly didn’t go halfway. 

Is that  two fish sauté I smell? A personal favorite. You’ve paid close attention. I’m not sure which is more impressive: that you saw fit to do so or that I didn’t notice. I suppose we’ve both expressed our mutual enjoyment of the dish enough that it’s something of a common ground. One I am glad to share.

Please, pull up a chair. To share a meal with a friend.