“ the memories hurt the most. ”
The pain of it is more than Hubert can imagine. He knows only what Edelgard has told him of the experiments, of her siblings being taken from her one by one. Fury boils inside. They ought to strike back, to subject every last one of her tormentors to the same anguish. It is no more than they deserve. His fingers itch. If he could tear them limb from limb, bring them all to their knees and make them weep, make them beg for forgiveness--
But he cannot. Not now. Not yet. One day, vengeance will be so very sweet.
For now, his hands are gentle as they alight on Edelgard’s shoulders. She stands at her window, though from the distance in her eyes, he expects there’s rather little of the night she truly sees. He is firm, steadfast and solid behind her. “I know, Lady Edelgard,” he says, voice soft, little more than a whisper. “Are the dreams plaguing you again?”
There is little he can do to ease the pain, a failing he can’t forgive himself for. It is in the past. Nothing can be done to change it. The only way is forward. “Would you like to speak of it? Of them--before. We rarely dwell on them. Perhaps it might ease your mind.”