Chapter Text
Seteth was trying something new. The Officer’s Academy class of 1179 had its share of unexpected issues culminating in one student running away right around the end of the school year. That could not happen again, but Seteth’s attention was already spread thin. Therefore, he was going to pilot a new program and create a peer to peer behavioral compliance scheme. Unfortunately he did not have time to interview any potential candidates and so he started with the hopes that the two eldest academy students would possess the maturity and confidence to serve as his proxy in the dormitory.
“Mercedes, Hubert, thank you for joining me here today,” said Seteth while surveying the two new students. Both were wearing their official uniforms with no rule violating adornments or modifications. They were quiet and polite, and therefore perfect for the task Seteth required of them. “I have asked you here because I am putting you in charge of enforcing the campus’ rules on my behalf.”
Hubert’s eye twitched but Mercedes smiled at the unexpected ask. Seteth presented them both with a small token of their authority: a golden badge adorned with the official seal of the Officers Academy. “You are each the oldest students on your respective floors, and that is why you are being given this responsibility,” explained Seteth.
Mercedes was already carefully adding her badge to her uniform. Hubert’s lay on the table, as untouched as his teacup. “What if I do not wish to participate?” asked Hubert, the reluctance thick in his voice.
Seteth, always the careful planner, pulled up the official student rulebook and pointed to the relevant addendum he added just before the start of the new school year. “I fear that you cannot refuse, as faculty I have the authority to delegate shared tasks to students.” Seteth smiled to himself in victory as he snapped the book shut. “I have chosen you for this. Consider it additional training in leadership skills. Besides, now you will be exempt from tasks like weeding or sky watch.”
Hubert exhaled as he pinned the badge to his uniform and folded his arms. Seteth passed his new deputies their own copies of the rulebook to memorize and, most importantly, a demerit ledger. This seemed to finally entice Hubert. “So I can write up students who are in violation of your rules, and they get detention?” asked Hubert, his eyes finally alight with interest.
“Yes. The three of us will meet monthly to review logged incidents. We will identify problem students and intervene to correct bad behavior,” said Seteth. “And the two of you should plan to meet regularly to help each other with any small problems that arise.” He paused to make sure he was well understood. “I want a quiet school year.” The students just nodded in silent agreement.
“Can we reward good behavior?” asked Mercedes as she opened her little demerit ledger with hesitation.
“Good behavior is its own reward,” said Seteth before sending them on their way. He was sure this pilot program was going to be a roaring success.
*
The sound of a detention ticket tearing was like music to Hubert’s ears. This was the sole perk of his unwanted job: writing up anything he pleased. “Gautier, I have been receiving noise complaints again about your nocturnal activities,” said Hubert as he pressed the slip against Sylvain’s chest.
“What? No you didn’t. I’ve been framed,” said Sylvain as he looked at his latest detention. “Who complained?”
“I am afraid that information is confidential,” said Hubert. He paused to smirk since his satisfaction could not bear to be contained. “My spies are everywhere, so watch yourself.” He had no spies here, yet, but the perception of having them was useful. He spotted Lorenz moving in the distance; now that was a student he’d actually received numerous complaints about from several young women. “Excuse me, I have another issue to follow up on,” said Hubert as he left Gautier to chase down Gloucester.
Hubert made sure there were no obvious biases in how he distributed punishment. The Black Eagles were hardly exempt from Hubert’s wrath; if anything he gave them extra. Caspar was docked for making too much noise after quiet hours, Linhardt was written up for napping in inappropriate spots, and Ferdinand was given a weeks worth of stable duty for making unsubstantiated claims of his superiority over Lady Edelgard. Hubert softened on his initial reaction to being handed this duty. This wasn’t a chore, it was a delight.
Within the first fortnight Hubert’s demerit ledger was emptied. Seteth appeared vexed by the excellent work Hubert was doing. “Hubert, that book was supposed to last you for the entire school year,” said Seteth as he flipped through Hubert’s notes. “You were supposed to be enforcing the rules not terrorizing the student body.” Seteth paused on a particular record. “For instance, you cannot write up Ferdinand for saying his name too often. This is ridiculous.” No, what was ridiculous was the frequency with which Ferdinand announced his presence.
Seteth, it seemed, was also highly disappointed by Mercedes. “And you, you did not give out a single detention,” said Seteth as he looked at her untouched ledger.
“I didn’t observe any rule breaking,” said Mercedes.
“Really? I find that incredibly hard to believe,” said Seteth with a shrewd gaze.
Mercedes’ face betrayed her guilt. “I spoke to a few students about their behavior, but I didn’t think any punishment was necessary,” said Mercedes, her voice very small. “Was there something I missed?”
“Bernadetta is on your floor and thus under your care. I have heard she has skipped more classes than she has attended,” said Seteth. “Clearly talking to her through her door has had no effect.”
Mercedes bit her lip. “Well, you see, I thought it was the job of the Black Eagle’s professor to oversee her learning,” said Mercedes as she fidgeted with the ends of her shawl.
Seteth massaged his temples. “Professor Stippleback has resigned from his post effective immediately. We are currently seeking a replacement, and so in the meantime you must make sure Bernadetta goes to her classes.”
“Oh,” said Mercedes, sounding upset at the potential for confrontation. “I’ll do my best.”
“I am issuing new orders,” said Seteth as he looked at his deputies. “You now have a quota. You must issue three detentions a week, no more, no less.”
“Three?” asked Hubert and Mercedes in near unison. Three was not nearly enough for Hubert but clearly too much for Mercedes.
“Go out together and practice. Hubert, you should encourage Mercedes to be a little more forceful. Mercedes, you must teach Hubert restraint,” said Seteth. With that they were dismissed with no opportunity to challenge the policy change.
Mercedes gnawed on her lip with worry as she watched the students of the officer’s academy studying in the courtyard. “Why did your professor resign?” asked Mercedes as she looked at Hubert.
“He was offered a position in Enbarr that was too good to pass up,” said Hubert. “I believe Professor Jeritza has volunteered to fill in.” All the pieces of Edelgard’s plan were falling into place.
Mercedes merely hummed at the news. She gave no indication that she might suspect Jeritza had once gone by another name. Hubert was tasked with a keeping an ear out for even the suggestion that Jeritza’s true identity was Emile von Bartels. Thankfully Emile’s dear sister appeared to have no idea.
Hubert and Mercedes watched in silence as the house leaders convened with their camping gear for a special weekend retreat. This occurred every year and was supposed to foster camaraderie amongst the leaders. They were tasked with a simple mission overseen by the Knights of Seiros so that they could in turn bring their skills and experience back to their house members when they were deployed for a real mission at the end of the month. Hubert didn’t like the idea of Edelgard going off into the woods without him there, but she insisted she’d be fine. He had to distract himself in the meantime to keep himself from worrying over her.
“Alright Mercedes, you need to give a detention or Seteth is probably going to give you one instead,” said Hubert as he watched their classmates for signs of illicit behavior. He spied Caspar and Ashe terrorizing a cat. “There, write those two up for abuse of an animal.”
Mercedes frowned as she looked at the scene and then back at Hubert. “I believe they are just playing with the cat,” said Mercedes. “It looks fine to me.”
“Let us take a walk then, it should not be hard to find some wrongdoing,” said Hubert as he clasped his hands behind his back. They saw nothing in the courtyard, nor in the great hall. The dining room occupants seemed innocent enough. Finally, as they neared the cathedral, they found an easy mark.
“What are you drawing there, Ignatz?” asked Hubert as they came up behind the bespectacled artist. He’d been hearing interesting rumors about the Golden Deer’s artistic archer and the delicate subjects of his drawings.
Ignatz jumped at the question and pressed his sketchbook to his chest. “Nothing,” said Ignatz. “I’m not drawing anything, I’m, I’m studying.”
“We just want to see,” said Mercedes in a kind and gentle tone. “I also love painting, and I have heard you are very talented. I’d be delighted if you shared what you’re working on.”
Ignatz looked at Mercedes and then at Hubert and finally down at his hidden sketch. With great reluctance he revealed a drawing of a very buxom woman in a skimpy sheer toga. The three of them stared in silence at the sketch for several moments. Mercedes was the first to respond. “Oh, that’s very realistic,” said Mercedes in a diplomatic voice. “You are quite good at rendering the female form.”
Ignatz eyed the bridge as if he might attempt to jump just to get out of the situation. Hubert tsk’d. “My, my, my. That is a very suggestive drawing. Who, pray tell, is it supposed to be?” asked Hubert. To his eyes it looked like Rhea.
Ignatz mumbled a response. Hubert leaned in. “We cannot hear you Ignatz. Enunciate, please,” said Hubert, delighted at the way Ignatz was unable to meet his stare.
“It’s the Goddess,” said Ignatz as his face burned red. “How I imagine her anyway.”
“Oh, well, if it’s the Goddess, then this is a meditation on faith,” said Mercedes, with the audacity to sound relieved by the ridiculous explanation. “I see it now, she looks just like the statue!”
“Yes, yes this is how I pray,” said Ignatz. He folded up his sketchbook and added it back to his satchel. “I don’t feel very well, may I please leave?” asked Ignatz, his voice ringing with desperation. He was far from a convincing liar.
“Oh, oh of course,” said Mercedes, her voice filled with concern. “Do you need me to walk you to the infirmary?”
“No,” said Ignatz before escaping across the bridge and away from Seteth’s deputies.
“You let him get away,” said Hubert as he watched the little pervert running.
“He wasn’t doing anything wrong,” said Mercedes. “I think you’re attributing malice where none exists.”
“What if someone was drawing you naked with your breasts hanging out? Would you think it alright then?” asked Hubert. Mercedes went as red as Ignatz had been and pulled her shawl tight. Hubert raised a thin eyebrow at the scandalized look on her face. “That’s what I thought. You should write him up for creating lewd drawings.”
“I’m writing you up for making suggestive comments,” said Mercedes as she pulled out her ledger. She wrote out the detention, citing him for inappropriate language, and handed to him with a frown on her face.
Hubert stared at the ticket in disbelief. This act of war could not go unanswered. Hubert pulled out his own ledger in silence and began to jot down a note. He tore the demerit off and handed it to Mercedes.
“You cannot give me a detention for failing to enforce a rule,” said Mercedes as she read it over. “What rule was even broken?”
“You declined to write up Ignatz for drawing pornography, of the Goddess no less. I believe that is not just a demerit, but a sin,” said Hubert as he closed his book. “Would you like me to detail this incident to Seteth?”
They found themselves in the awkward position of having to oversee their own detentions of each other. A detention was supposed to be spent in silent reflection of ones wrong doing for an hour. Mercedes had brought materials to draft a letter and Hubert had brought a book on the history of the Empire to refresh himself on who exactly Mercedes was.
“Ah, House von Martritz, I finally found you,” said Hubert out loud as he looked at the slim entry on Mercedes’ family. It was a small barony in the middle of the country with no notable feats or crests in their line.
Mercedes looked up from her letter and stared at him passively. “That House no longer exists,” said Mercedes as she rested her pen in its holder. “The von Aegirs now own that land.”
“Right, you grew up in the Bartels’ household,” said Hubert as he flipped forward in the book to the entry on the Bartels. That land lay closer to the Alliance but there little worth noting about it other than the grim circumstances surrounding its end. “Tell me, how did an Imperial noble come to live in Fhirdiad as the adopted daughter of a common merchant?”
Mercedes stared at him for a while before returning to writing her letter. “My step father, the Baron von Bartels, was a cruel man. My mother and I fled his household and lived in hiding in a small church for many years. It was only after the Baron’s death that I reclaimed my given name and felt safe enough to live freely as myself,” said Mercedes.
Hubert was all too familiar with the Baron von Bartel’s messy murder at the hands of his homicidal son. The Vestras had personally covered up that incident. If Mercedes knew the truth of the matter she was keeping quiet about it.
“It did not take long for my,” she paused suddenly as if uncertain for what word to use. “For my pedigree to attract attention,” said Mercedes. “I was beset with marriage offers. It was honestly overwhelming. I had only just turned nineteen, and in being very poor and on my own, a lot of men saw that as something to take advantage of.” Mercedes stopped her writing and looked up at Hubert. “I don’t know if it’s this way in Adrestia, but in Faerghus there are sometimes awful stories about young women with crests being kidnapped and forced into marriage. The girl’s family can protest, but if the union has been consummated there’s not much room for legal recourse.”
Such things were not endemic to Faerghus. Crests were a too valuable commodity all over Fodlan. Hubert found himself strangely invested in Mercedes personal horror story and the effect that telling it was having upon her. Mercedes’ hand was shaking slightly as she tried to keep writing. “It was all very frightening since I have no family left to protect me. The nuns I lived with referred me to a merchant of means and decent character. He adopted me and has since taken over mediating any offers for my hand. He sent me to the school of sorcery, and now here for a proper education to give me a better standing in the marriage market.”
“He sounds more like a broker than a father,” said Hubert as he surveyed her. “What is he promised for supporting you like this?”
“He’ll collect my dowry when I marry,” said Mercedes. She seemed quite indifferent to her circumstances.
“Ah, so he’s investing now to get a higher return later,” said Hubert, his voice rife with cynicism. She was clearly little more than another good to trade.
Mercedes nodded in affirmation as she continued to write. “It’s not all bad. I enjoy school very much. I’m writing to him about it now.”
Hubert watched Mercedes to study her features; she was the very epitome of a victim of the system Edelgard wished to bring down. It was very possible she could be recruited to Edelgard’s cause. She was an Adrestian by birth and her brother was already serving the crown, even if she was not aware. Hubert decided to test the waters with her. “What would you do if you were free to choose any path you wish?” asked Hubert.
Mercedes stared at him as if he were the first person to ever ask her that. “I enjoy helping people, so I suppose I’d like to work for the church,” said Mercedes, her voice ripe with uncertainty. “But I trust the Goddess to choose my path for me, and she seems to be choosing an arranged marriage.”
A pity. Mercedes’ blind trust in the Goddess did not speak well to bringing her into Edelgard’s plot. Mercedes was giving him a curious look following her response. “And you, what would you want to do if you had a choice to do whatever you wanted?” asked Mercedes.
It was Hubert’s turn to be caught off guard. “I choose to serve Lady Edelgard,” said Hubert. After the Insurrection his loyalty would always be hers.
Mercedes laughed, not unkindly, as she listened. “Yes, but let us say you didn’t have to, and she didn’t need you to. What would you want to do with your life then?”
Hubert’s brow furrowed. “I do not like to entertain such fantasies,” said Hubert. He focused on his book to signal that the conversation was over.
Mercedes did not take the hint. “Oh come now, there must be something you wanted to be when you grew up,” said Mercedes. “For instance, Ingrid wished to be a knight. Annette has always wanted to be a teacher—”
“This is a detention, Mercedes, we’re not supposed to be talking,” said Hubert in a sharp voice. Mercedes softly closed her mouth and gave him a sad look before returning her focus to her letter.
“I did not mean to strike a nerve,” said Mercedes in a whisper. “I understand how suffocating expectations can be, and it was not my intention to upset you.” She sighed when he said nothing, and went back to writing.
The rest of the detention passed in silence. The bell tower began to chime, signaling an end to their time together. Mercedes set down her pen. “May I propose a compromise about this demerit business?” asked Mercedes.
Hubert looked up from his book with surprise at her initiative and nodded. Mercedes seemed to relax a little at his reaction. “Might we work together on giving detentions out? I think you might be a bit liberal with punishment, and I know I’m being a bit too lenient,” said Mercedes. “I can see why you found Ignatz’s drawing a bit inappropriate, but it was a very good art piece!”
“He was depicting the Goddess, naked,” said Hubert. Objectively, Hubert found it hilarious, but such a thing could have landed Ignatz in real trouble. “Imagine if Seteth had caught him. He would have gotten much worse than a simple demerit.”
“That’s probably true,” said Mercedes. “Which is why we should work together, since I would not have said anything to him about it at all.”
If they collaborated it meant Hubert could give out six citations a week instead of three, and so he readily agreed to her terms. “And as for this detention,” started Mercedes as she looked at her ledger. She tore out the page where she’d written him up. “Perhaps this is best kept as our little secret?”
“Very well,” said Hubert as he did the same. The last thing he needed was any further scrutiny from Seteth. He watched Mercedes gathering up her writing supplies and decided there were far worse people he could be stuck on this shared task with.
*
Students were injured all the time on missions. Sometimes it was something small, and sometimes it was a bit more serious. Hubert was hoping for the former when the Blue Lions got back from the Conrad Tower with most of their members patched up and bruised. Several, including Mercedes, had landed themselves in the infirmary. He found it difficult to imagine her wanting to see him and so he had not tried to visit her. Yet as each injured Blue Lion was cleared for release while Mercedes remained bed ridden, Hubert was beginning to wonder what exactly had happened on their mission. The official story was that the Blue Lions had successfully cleared Miklan’s gang, but based on their injuries it seemed they had fought something big, and the available facts just weren’t adding up to Hubert.
Practically speaking, Mercedes’ absence meant that Hubert had to meet with Seteth on his own to present their disciplinary actions for the prior month. Linhardt was written up for having an excessive number of overdue library books in his possession. Dorothea had gotten herself banned from kitchen duty by request of the cooks. Lorenz accused Claude of poisoning him, though Mercedes was of the opinion that Lorenz was just naturally gassy and had not been the victim of a crime. Hubert in turn cited Lorenz for false claims and wasting Hubert’s precious time investigating the matter.
“So much for a quiet school year,” said Seteth with a sigh as he finished jotting down notes. “I can barely believe this business with the Western Church, and now we are having to recover relics from criminal gangs? What next?”
Hubert would have liked to know the answer to that himself but information was scarce. Byleth had taken the Sword of the Creator and managed to use it. Now all the Flame Emperor’s plans were up in the air. Thales was growing impatient and demanded that Edelgard loan him the Death Knight for a secretive project.
“I’ve heard several rumors of a scythe wielding knight spotted in the village and on the monastery grounds,” said Hubert as he looked through his remaining notes. At first he’d tried to downplay the reports, but too many students were talking about the Death Knight to pretend that he wasn’t becoming a problem.
Seteth looked unmoved by the news. “Like you said, it’s only rumors. This is likely just a prank being pulled. Students are always up to mischief like this as we get towards the big mock battle.”
Hubert knew this was no rumor. Jeritza was clearly growing restless awaiting new orders and it was only a matter of time before his hunting turned tragic. However, if Seteth wished to pretend it was nothing then who was Hubert to argue? “You would know best, sir,” said Hubert. He paused. “May I go now?”
“Oh, yes. Keep me informed on how Gautier handles things in the next few weeks. That cannot have been easy to have to put down his own brother,” said Seteth as if the Church had not consciously assigned the Blue Lions to the mission over the Black Eagles or Golden Deer.
Hubert did not think himself the ideal candidate to check in on Sylvain. “I’ll pass that request on to Mercedes,” said Hubert as he got up to take his leave. He figured now was as good as time as any to deliver the assignment since the infirmary was just down the hall.
From the flowers and cards surrounding her bed it was clear Mercedes was beloved beyond her house. It was nearing dinnertime though, and so the infirmary was quiet and empty. Hubert aimed to just leave a small note for her explaining what Seteth wanted from them in the coming month.
“Oh, Hubert, hello,” said Mercedes, her voice sleepy and weak. She looked like she’d been absolutely demolished in the battle. Hubert found himself growing resentful of her professor for allowing her to be in a position to take such damage in the first place.
Hubert pulled a chair up to her bedside. “Did you take on Miklan Gautier all by yourself?” asked Hubert as he stared at the cast on her arm.
Mercedes didn’t laugh at his joke. “Did you hear what happened to him?” asked Mercedes, her voice as morbid as a graveyard.
“I heard he didn’t survive, although from the sounds of it that is no great loss,” said Hubert. Miklan’s gang reportedly rolled through villages, killing the men and children while taking the women for themselves.
“No, I meant did you hear about what the relic did to him?” asked Mercedes.
The question left him cold. “No, no I haven’t heard anything about that,” said Hubert.
Mercedes forced herself to sit up. She looked around the infirmary and then dropped her voice down to a whisper. “It turned him into a demonic beast, a big one.”
Hubert found his throat dry at the news. “Is that how you were injured?” asked Hubert as he looked at the bruises that blanketed her right side. Mercedes nodded as Hubert broke eye contact with her to take in the full extent of her wounds.
“He swiped me with his tail, it was a direct hit,” said Mercedes in a tired tone. She gave another long look at the door. “We were told not to talk about it. The Archbishop said it was the Goddess passing down her judgment.”
It was impossible to miss Mercedes’ hesitation as she spoke. There were cracks forming in her faith and Hubert wondered if he might propagate them. “What do you think it was?” asked Hubert.
Mercedes shrugged. “I wouldn’t think the Goddess would do that to someone, but I guess I’m wrong,” said Mercedes, uncertainty rich in her voice. “Apparently that’s what happens when someone without the right crest uses a relic.” Mercedes looked like she was about to cry. “It was awful to watch.”
“Thank you for giving me the truth,” said Hubert. Facts freely offered were a rare commodity in this place.
“Just don’t tell anyone I told you. We were warned that there would be consequences if we spoke about it,” whispered Mercedes. The truth, it seemed, was more important to her than blind obedience. That was promising. Mercedes looked at him with worry. “You don’t have a crest, and I would hate to see something terrible like that befall you just because you were kept ignorant on purpose.”
“I doubt I’ll be handling many relics,” said Hubert as he glanced around the desolate infirmary. “I won’t tell anyone you said anything.”
“Thank you for visiting me,” said Mercedes, her voice growing a little less distressed. “It means a lot to me that you came. I know how busy you are, especially if you’re handling both our jobs at once.”
Hubert paused as he looked at all the flowers surrounding her. “I figured you had more visitors than you could handle,” said Hubert. It was inconceivable to imagine himself lurking over Annette or Ashe’s shoulder just to check in on her. “I did not wish to scare away all your friends.”
“You’re my friend,” said Mercedes, her voice honest and clear of any sarcasm.
“I am?” asked Hubert, sincerely surprised by the statement. “You must have very low standards.”
Mercedes giggled at that. “And you always know how to make me laugh,” said Mercedes, clearly mistaking his confusion for a deliberate joke. He doubted she would be so friendly to him if she knew the truth of who the Flame Emperor was and who served her.
“Now I’ve told you about our mission, so you’d better tell me all about this reaper we’ve got loose on campus,” said Mercedes as she settled back into her pillows. “I bet you know all about his bloody, dark past.”
Hubert frozeat the suggestion. “A reaper?” asked Hubert, hoping he’d misheard her.
She looked a touch embarrassed by his reaction. “Sorry, I love ghost stories,” said Mercedes. “And the Death Knight seems like he rode straight out of one. You’ve always got one ear to the ground, I figured surely you’ve heard theories as to where he’s come from.”
“The scariest stories are the ones that are true,” said Hubert in a dry voice as he weighed what was safe to say against what was not.
“See, you’re already off to a great start,” said Mercedes, her eyes taking him in with pleasure. Hubert was not accustomed to anyone looking at him with such gleeful anticipation.
Hubert could not help his natural frown as he contemplated how he could spin the tale. “The Death Knight is not a ghost, but a man, made of flesh and bone.” His eyes could not help but catch upon the way she bit her lip as she listened. “Whether or not he has a soul is a subject of debate.” Hubert indulged in a sinister chuckle. “He does the bidding of the Lord of the Underworld, and collects souls from the surface to take them underground.” That was about as close as he could get to the truth without compromising anything.
The look on Mercedes face was difficult to interpret. She did not appear very impressed. “Is that really the best you could come up with?” asked Mercedes.
“Oh my apologies for not being excellent at making up ghost stories on command,” said Hubert, finding himself a little cross with how unafraid she was. His laughter alone was enough to make Bernadetta faint. “I do not know why you think I would be any good at it.”
“Well, you have the most atmospheric laughter, and the way you speak makes just about anything unsettling,” said Mercedes with an encouraging smile. “You’re always so morbid, and that was, well, it was a little tame. I’d love it if you told me a terrifying tale and didn’t hold back on any depraved details.”
Hubert’s ears felt distinctly warm at the suggestion. Hubert found he was at a loss for what to say. He worked hard to cultivate a threatening presence, and she just seemed entertained by it. It was the opposite to the effect he hoped to have.
Whatever more Mercedes might have said was interrupted as Manuela arrived back with none other than Jeritza on her arm. Hubert wondered if he’d just managed to summon the Death Knight by talking about him too much. Manuela came over to check on Mercedes. “I swear I’ve never seen someone with so many visitors at all hours,” said Manuela as she rested a hand, uninvited, on Hubert’s shoulder. “But it’s getting late,” said Manuela, her tone growing less accommodating.
“I was just leaving,” said Hubert. He glanced back and found Jeritza was staring at Mercedes with a neutral expression.
“Are you and Professor Jeritza going on a date this evening?” whispered Mercedes to Manuela, her voice filled with pleasure at the prospect.
Manuela winked and nodded as she measured out a healing potion. “I’ll be back in the morning to check in on you dear,” said Manuela. “I think you can be released after one more good night’s rest.”
Hubert excused himself and made to leave. In silence Jeritza wrapped his hand around Hubert’s bicep to stop him short of the door. “I will wait for you outside,” said Jeritza to Manuela before leading Hubert out into the empty hall.
“What happened to her?” asked Jeritza, his voice grave and low. “No one will tell me anything.”
“She took a direct hit from a demonic beast, but you heard Manuela, she’ll be released in the morning,” said Hubert. He glanced down to where Jeritza was still holding Hubert in a death grip. “Now, will you please stop trying to amputate my arm with your hand?”
Jeritza released him and exhaled forcefully through his nose. Hubert dusted off his uniform and surveyed Jeritza with mild interest. “I must say, I never expected you to begin courting Manuela. I did not peg you as the romantic type,” said Hubert as a sneer began to pull up the corner of his lip.
“I required a convincing reason to see inside the infirmary,” said Jeritza. His blue eyes stared into Hubert’s with an unsettling intensity. “My options were to call on Manuela or to purposefully maim one of my pupils and bring the pieces here.”
Hubert winced at the options. “Right, well, have a grand time this evening,” said Hubert sarcastically as he imagined Jeritza dining with Manuela. “I’ve heard talk that she is quite amorous after a few drinks.”
“Vestra, wait,” said Jeritza in a cool and detached. “What exactly were you doing here calling upon Mercedes?”
Hubert pulled on his officer’s academy badge with disdain. “My job. We all need to keep up appearances,” said Hubert. The last thing he needed was the Death Knight assuming Hubert had any intentions for Mercedes. Hubert’s objectives were simple; he was maintaining a low profile and keeping Seteth complacent. Fostering a friendship with Mercedes gave him an unknowing informant on any missions the Blue Lions went on. Hubert told himself it was nothing more than that.