You Will Live

Tomorrow at Dawn

While the conquerors of Adrestia futilely debated his usefulness, the outside world continued on. The council members took a light meal in the meeting room, and Hubert was graced with his share as well in the study he'd taken up. Still under guard, yes, but at least he wasn't confined to a single room within the Enbarr palace any longer.

Her Majesty's ashes arrived at the palace securely, stored in a simple ceramic urn and delivered to him by one of his own agents. Whether it was their directive or the assumption of King Dimitri's guard that they would not be well-received for such a delivery was unclear and irrelevant. The urn wasn't the refined sort that Hubert would have chosen for her, but he supposed that was how she would have preferred it. Even when they were assigned to weeding at the monastery together, Lady Edelgard always insisted that she be treated like anyone else in her midst. Such fair conduct merely served to highlight the traits that made her exceptional.

He arranged for the safekeeping of her remains while he waited for the vote to pass, and it did occupy his time decently. In the void of activity that followed, he drew up tome pages from memory to defend himself with if necessary. If his captors sent too many people to inform him of the outcome, then it was safe to conclude that they voted against his company. And in that scenario, he would fight his way out to the streets by any means necessary no matter who stood between him and the exit. They were well aware that Hubert knew the palace inside and out, and they would take extra measures to contain him on account of that. If he waited until a large group of guards brought him to the cells before finding his way out, it would be too late.

"Lord Vestra," a thin, ambiguous voice called out from a safe distanced at the door. A solitary Adrestian guard, young but capable from the looks of it. "Lord Aegir has summoned you."

He fought the satisfied smirk that came to him. They certainly took their time, but it seemed they were made to see reason. A single guard calling for him at the behest of Ferdinand all but confirmed his inclusion in the journey to Shambhala, or it made an excellent attempt at deception. Unlikely.

"Very well," Hubert complied, setting his quill down and leaving the page to dry. It was hardly incriminating, since most mages wrote their own tomes and required far more pages to cast with than Hubert had completed.

He was led unshackled to the hallway of the council's meeting room, another promising sign. If Hubert was to be confined in the capital while they travelled to Shambhala, they wouldn't waste a second of potential warning before restraining him. That aside, the walk to the meeting room only reinforced how the palace had been transformed by the Empire losing the war. Any acts of desecration or looting were conspicuously absent, presumably under strict orders, but the enemy forces had claimed nearly every corner of the palace for themselves. Better that than armed enemy forces overtaking Imperial homes, in any case.

The most notable changes ranged from the intended purpose of several rooms to the arrangements of furniture and decorations. The majority of the wounded soldiers had recovered well enough to be on their feet, and their allies' supplies had spread entirely across the grounds. It was certainly not the palace of Her Majesty any longer and as such, it was no palace of his. Rounding a corner to the meeting room doors, Hubert was met with Count Bergliez and Ferdinand immersed in conversation.

"Glad to see these people have brains after all," the Count revealed the outcome of the vote before Hubert was even announced. "They'd be stupid to waste Hubert, and the new Empire doesn't tolerate idiots."

"Very true, and we're all the better for it." His patriotic pride was clear in how his voice held firm, but there was a silhouette of remorse behind that noble bearing that Ferdinand could not hide. Not from Hubert. The cause of it was the only real unknown factor. Was it regret that he marched against Enbarr in the battle that led to Her Majesty's death? There was always the chance it ran deeper than that. Ferdinand had surprised Hubert before.