The Missing Stone

Recourse

"Oh my goddess." Lindhart scoops up the book again, flipping rapidly through the pages. Mildred continues gaping, her mind a chaotic spiral until the image disappears. The charm on her wrist burns, and Mildred hisses, swiftly unclasping the bracelet and throwing it on the desk, rubbing her hand. Lindhart looks up from the book, surprise evident in every feature.

"We have to tell the profess-" Mildred smacks a hand over his mouth, frantically shaking her head. Linhardt glares at her slightly, but doesn't move. Mildred hears footsteps in the hallway, and leaps off just as a man with forest-green hair appears in the doorway.

"What is going on here?" The man asks, hands on his hips. Mildred remembers him from somewhere. Somewhere...somewhere... Lindhart waves at him from behind Mildred, slipping the book behind him.

"Hello Seteth," he says, moving in front of Mildred. "Did you need something?" The man, Seteth, narrows his eyes, before crossing his arms.

"The meeting is in ten minutes and here you are again running through-" Linhardt interrupts his scolding with a raised hand, brushing past him out the door.

"Yes of course we're going." Mildred follows anxiously, shrinking away from Seteth's suspicious gaze as he follows behind. Does he know? Will he suspect Mildred will become like Nemesis?

Her face collides into Linhardt's back, who glances at her over his shoulder before pushing the doors of the council room open. Most of the chairs are filled, the professor at the head of the table appearing even more sleep deprived than usual. Felix leans against a column a little to the left, staring blankly at the adjacent wall. Ingrid sits on the right side with Sylvain and Dedue, Ashe, Annette and Mercedes across from them.

Linhardt slides into a chair beside Gilbert, who shuffles papers into neat stacks and piles. Mildred shifts and hops onto Bernadetta's lap, sitting so that her head can poke over the edge. The archer pets her head idly. Gilbert clears his throat when Seteth takes his place behind the professor.

"Our victory at Gronder was certainly a turning point for us," he begins, setting aside a document and sighing. "However... Rodrigue's death has been difficult to bear." Tell me about it, Mildred thinks, even though she never knew the man personally, her friends had, and that's enough to lower Mildred's mood. "We've lost considerable military strength and resources."

A moment passes, the professor tapping a quill against the table before he looks up.  "Are there no lords we can rely on?" Sylvain grimaces, hissing in a breath through clenched teeth.

"Unfortunately, with things as they are now, I don't think House Gautier has any resources to spare."

"I'm sorry," Ingrid adds, bowing her head. "I really wish we could help. If only House Galatea had anything to give." Gilbert hums, writing something down.

"If we split up the soldiers currently defending the monastery, we should have sufficient numbers to invade the Empire. But even then..." He's interrupted when the council door opens, heavy steps thumping against the ground. Everyone's head turns, except for a few, like Mildred because she's kind of under the table.

"Your Highness!" Mildred hears Dedue exclaim, and she nearly bashes her head trying to stand up, peeking her head over the table. There Dimitri stands in front of them, head downcast, bangs covering most of his face. "You should be resting," Dedue continues. "Your wounds are still healing..."

"I am well, I assure you," the prince lifts his head, and for once he does looks well rested. "More importantly...may I have a moment of your time?" Mildred stands from Bernadetta's lap, standing on the table beside her. The professor sets down the quill and nods, head resting on folded hands supported by his elbows on the table, eyes searching.