This link between us.

by Imperator45

Summary:

In his service to his liege, Hubert thought that he had already been through every kind of strange situations. But a sudden mishap happens to prove him wrong.

Chapter 1

This link between us.

Disclaimer: Fire Emblems three houses doesn't belong to me...

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This a new story, with Hubert as the main character...He need more stories about him.

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In his service to his liege, Hubert thought that he had already been through every kind of strange situations. But a sudden mishap happens to prove him wrong.

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I completly rewrotte this chapter , i hope that you will find it much more appealing.

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5th of the Wyvern Moon.

It was still morning—just barely.

Not far from the monastery, a group of villagers had been caught in a large road accident. Manuela and several other healers had been dispatched to tend to the wounded. At the same time, Hanneman had been requisitioned by Seteth to help reorganize a sensitive archive room.

As a result, Byleth Eisner, professor of the Black Eagles, had been left in charge of the two remaining houses: the Golden Deer and the Blue Lions.

Teaching a lecture to twenty-six students was far harder than teaching only ten. That’s why, after receiving approval from none other than Archbishop Rhea herself, Byleth had chosen to run a combat training session for the first half of the day. On the open training grounds, students from all three houses were paired up to test their skills.

“Petra! Lower your sword. Felix! Step forward!” Byleth called.

The princess of Brigid nodded and adjusted her stance at once. Felix, on the other hand, grunted in irritation—but obeyed nonetheless.

Their wooden swords met with a loud crack. They both stepped back, then charged again, blades flashing.

The rest of the students cheered from behind the pillars, staying in what little safety the sidelines could provide. Many were excited to test themselves against members of the other houses—and even more thrilled that the famed Ashen Demon was there, offering advice.

But not everyone was enjoying the atmosphere.

Someone like Hubert von Vestra.

He sat alone on a bench near the edge of the grounds, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the sparring pair. His expression remained unreadable, but inwardly, he was pleased to see that his fellow Black Eagle had the advantage.

“When the time comes, Brigid’s loyalty will be a valuable asset. If we can secure Petra’s allegiance to the Adrestian Empire, House Fraldarius will no longer be a threat.”

He watched the duel closely.

“But first, we must ensure her loyalty to Her Highness. And if friendship is not enough... I will find another way.”

Blackmailing a classmate brought him no pleasure. But for the sake of the future... he'd do worse

His eyes swept over the students watching nearby. When Professor Eisner had gathered all three houses for today’s class, he’d given them the option to spar across houses. Some had jumped at the chance. Others—like Bernadetta and Marianne—looked like they’d do anything to be anywhere else.

Fortunately for them, training would only last until noon. After lunch, the students were free to spend the afternoon however they wished: more training, reading, or simply wandering the grounds.

Hubert’s gaze drifted toward the far side of the training field.

There, Edelgard was speaking with Dorothea. They seemed to be deep in conversation. He watched the former songstress giggle softly as she gestured toward the professor, only to be quickly shushed by the future Emperor.

Still, the sight of his princess pained him.

She hadn’t spoken a single word to him since yesterday’s class. She had not appreciated—once again—his warnings about getting too close to Professor Eisner. While Hubert understood her growing attachment to the former mercenary, it was dangerous.

“It’s not that I despise the man. He did save her from Kostas. But he’s too unpredictable to be left unchecked. If he sides with the Church when the time comes...”

His expression darkened.

“She would be devastated.”

And this time, their argument had left a deeper mark. Edelgard had pointedly chosen not to sit near him at either dinner or breakfast.

“I don’t like it when she acts like this... But I understand. She wants to enjoy her school days while she can.”

His gaze returned to the sparring match. Petra clearly had the advantage. Though Felix was one of the most formidable swordsmen in the Blue Lions—second only to Dimitri—Petra was a natural warrior. And with Byleth’s training, her victory was nearly assured.

Even so, Felix never backed down. As expected of a proud heir of House Fraldarius.

“And possibly... a future ally.”

If there was one thing Hubert respected about Byleth, it was his influence. The professor drew others in. Hubert had already noted that several students from the other houses were drawn toward the Black Eagles. That presented a valuable opportunity.

Many within the monastery were already aware of Felix’s distaste for his own crown prince. He certainly didn’t seem eager to serve Dimitri. And despite not being in Byleth’s class, he had asked several times to spar with him.

“Another piece for our side of the board, perhaps.”

But now, Hubert’s focus shifted. There was a more immediate concern. If he wanted to regain Edelgard’s favor, he would need to offer something of substance.

The training ground’s large doors remained open, allowing monastery staff and passing knights to observe the spectacle. After all, it wasn’t every day that the most promising nobles of the continent beat each other with sticks.

But Hubert’s gaze swept past them, honing in on his target.

An open door.

“So the report was accurate.”

A short distance from the sparring grounds stood none other than Catherine, the Thunderbrand wielder.She was flanked by several Knights of Seiros. Before her knelt a burly, battered man in torn leather armor,a criminal who had been recently captured

But the fugitive wasn’t what caught Hubert’s attention.

It was his wrists.

Thick cuffs, forged of a green alloy, bound them. Faint a green lights pulsed across the metal, and a single thick chain linked them.

“There it is.”

One of Hubert’s agents had informed him about this prototype. A magical restraint, reinforced to be nearly unbreakable. Only specific spells or matching keys could remove them. It was the Church’s newest experiment, and they had only just begun testing them in live conditions.

“A problem for the future... or an opportunity.”

It was only a matter of time before that the Adrestian Empire declare war against the Church, and of some of their agents would be captured. But if Hubert could learn how to break these restraints...

“We could send operatives in disguised as prisoners. Let them be taken. Let the enemy think they’re safely bound.”

His thoughts sharpened.

“And when the time is right... they break free. Sabotage. Chaos. A gaping hole in their defenses.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips.

“Many Imperial lives could be spared.” After all, after the victory against the Church, they would need anybody available to rise against Those Who Slither in the Dark…

He kept his gaze fixed on Catherine. She was ordering the captive to be taken to the dungeons. For now, she remained near the open door to the secure storage room. Likely where several more pairs of the handcuffs were kept.

“I know the location. But the door is sealed with magic, and only someone with her authority can open it. If I try to pick it, and I’m caught—”

He scowled.

“We would draw suspicion. Worse, I may not get another chance like this.”

Catherine was still talking with another knight, her back to the door.

“I need a distraction.”

But before he could finish the thought, a victorious cry rang out.

Hubert turned just in time to see Felix on the ground, his wooden sword discarded. Petra’s blade hovered just above his throat.

“Felix out. Petra wins!”

At Byleth’s announcement, several Black Eagles cheered for Petra’s victory. Felix, looking genuinely perplexed by his sudden defeat, picked himself up with a grunt. He retrieved his wooden sword and moved to a nearby bench.

“Give me a moment to catch my breath. Then I’ll be ready for round two.”

Petra nodded in acknowledgment, pleased to face such a challenging opponent again, before heading back to join Edelgard and Dorothea on their bench.

“Very well,” Byleth called out. “Next up will be…”

He scanned the students. One hand shot up eagerly “Ferdinand. You’re up.”

“Thank you, Professor! I shall once again demonstrate that the Aegir bloodline is not a single step behind that of House Hresvelg!”

At this, Edelgard rolled her violet eyes in mild irritation.

Hubert, more out of habit than anything else, called toward his classmate.

“At least try not to lose. Not that I have high expectations, but a defeat would reflect poorly on Lady Edelgard and the Black Eagles.”

Ferdinand only shrugged, unfazed. Hubert trying to annoy him was a daily occurrence after all.

Meanwhile, Byleth turned to the crowd again. “Now… who shall be your opponent?” His eyes paused on a Blue Lion. “Ingrid. Are you up to the challenge?”

Upon hearing her name, Ingrid smiled brightly. She grabbed the wooden lance that had been resting beside her and stepped forward with confidence.

“You bet I am. I was starting to feel rusty.”

Hubert couldn’t help but quietly appreciate her confidence. The day’s matches had gone well for their house so far: Caspar had outmatched Raphael despite the latter’s strength, and Petra had just defeated Felix, who was widely regarded as the second most dangerous Blue Lion after Dimitri.

But Ingrid… she didn’t have Raphael’s brute power, Felix’s ruthless focus, or Ferdinand’s constant self-assurance. It was probable that for the majority of the students especially those unfamiliar with her skills were already assuming this fight was decided.

But as the proud Galatea strode calmly toward the arena, something clicked in Hubert’s mind.

A plan.

A very risky, very specific plan. One that relied not only on timing… but on history.

“Well,” he said aloud, loud enough for all nearby to hear, “if it’s against a Galatea… I suppose I can barely tolerate a defeat for our class.”

The words hung in the air like smoke.

Silence fell.

Eyes turned… Byleth, Edelgard, Claude, Dimitri, Ferdinand… all looked toward him.

But none looked as stunned as Ingrid.

Her expression froze. She nearly dropped her lance.

“Well, I would like to thank you for your generous tolerance… but what did Miss Galatea do to earn such rare favor from you? Not that I don't think—”

In order to spare Ferdinand from further ridicule, Hubert simply raised a gloved hand.

At this, nearly everyone leaned in. Even students from the other houses crept closer to the ever-serious retainer. After all, everyone at the monastery knew how strict he was with his fellow Black Eagles — always pushing them to excel, always striving to protect the honor of the Empire’s heir. For him to show leniency now? That was worth hearing.

Hubert stared at Ferdinand with an expression that suggested he was the one asking a foolish question.

“The siege of Cordouza, of course.”

He observed their reactions. Most of the students looked puzzled — even those directly connected to the major powers. Edelgard, Dimitri, Claude, and Ingrid herself all wore expressions of mild confusion.

He let his eyes settle on the blonde wannabe knight.

“In 1031,” Hubert began, “King Rowan II of Faerghus launched a grand campaign against Almyra, declaring it the final effort to rid the continent of the so-called ‘eastern threat.’ He called upon the Archbishop, Emperor Claudius IV, and Grand Duke Jasper von Riegan to form a coalition. With the backing of Faerghus's nobility, Rowan assembled an army of 25,000 soldiers.

“The Empire, having just concluded a long naval campaign against sea raiders, was in no state for another major war. The people opposed another costly expedition. Still, Claudius allowed volunteers to join. His younger brother, Prince Marcellus, was placed in command. The Empire sent only 3,000 troops. The Grand Duke sent 1,200, though he promised to oversee logistics. The Church of Seiros contributed about 300 knights from the Western Church.”

This alone earned the focused attention of the three house leaders. Hubert noted that only Edelgard seemed unsure — the others, it seemed, had at least some prior knowledge of this campaign. Ingrid, however, remained confused.

“Rowan, to his credit, planned the opening stages surprisingly well — for a king with almost no battlefield experience. The coalition won several early victories against fractured Almyran lords. But then... the king grew overconfident.”

Hubert’s voice lowered slightly, becoming more intense.

“He launched a full-scale assault against an army commanded by one of Almyra’s finest generals. The enemy faked a weakness in their line — opened a gap that looked like a breach in formation. The coalition took the bait. Over 7,000 men were slaughtered in a single day.”

Gasps rippled through the gathered students. Dimitri, pale-faced, clenched his jaw. A stain like that in the legacy of a Faerghus king possibly even one of his ancestors was not easy to bear.

“The campaign collapsed. What remained of the army fragmented into isolated bands. The Almyran riders picked them off one by one.

“The Adrestian force — now down to barely 2,000, many of them wounded — took refuge in the lightly-defended border city of Cordouza. They managed to seize control, but were quickly surrounded. Almyran forces laid siege to the city.”

Edelgard had moved subtly closer to Byleth. Her gaze flicked to Mercedes, whose eyes shimmered with worry.

“Prince Marcellus sent a plea for reinforcements to King Rowan,” Hubert continued, “begging for relief forces. Rowan refused. His reply: ‘My forces are too weak. Hold out as long as you can.’”

Claude, standing nearby, gently placed a hand on Dimitri’s shoulder. The prince’s posture had stiffened — the weight of history pressing on him.

“But there was one man who did not abandon the stranded Imperials,” Hubert said at last. “Count Galatea. A veteran commander. Justin Galatea, if memory serves.”

Ingrid’s eyes widened in surprise.

“He rallied a detachment of 400 riders — a mix of cavalry and Pegasus knights. Using obscure mountain paths, they bypassed the Almyran patrols and reached the city’s outskirts under cover of darkness.”

Now fully engaged, Ingrid leaned forward.

“Just before dawn, Count Galatea launched a cavalry charge against the enemy camp. The surprise assault shattered several Almyran positions and caused chaos among the sleeping forces. The Adrestian troops inside Cordouza saw the opportunity and surged out to join the fray. Together, they forced the enemy into retreat.”

Ingrid began to smile , clearly hearing for the first time of this great feat performed by a member of her own family.

“The allied forces regrouped with the main army a few days later,” Hubert continued. “But with over 12,000 dead in less than two weeks of fighting, King Rowan declared the campaign a failure. He disbanded the army shortly after.”

He turned toward Ingrid, who flinched slightly under his piercing gaze.

“Only 1,500 Imperials made it home. More than half of the troops Count Galatea brought with him died during the charge. But by acting against his king’s orders, he saved a member of the Imperial family… and over a thousand lives.”

Hubert took two steps toward Ingrid and offered a deep, formal nod.

“For that… the Galatea name has my gratitude. That campaign proved that even within the Kingdom, competent and honorable warriors still exist.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned away from the center of the room and walked calmly toward a bench in the corner, where he sat and folded his hands.

The students exchanged confused glances, uncertain how to react to such an uncharacteristically respectful gesture from the stern retainer. But Byleth clapped his hands, reclaiming the group’s attention.

“Thank you, Hubert, for the history lesson,” he said. “Now then, the next match begins in just a moment. Observers, please move behind the pillars. Fighters, to the center.”

The students shuffled into place. Ferdinand and Ingrid stepped forward, facing each other in the middle of the sparring ring.

“Begin when ready!”

“I am Ferdinand von Aegir!” the red-haired noble proclaimed, puffing out his chest before lunging forward with surprising speed.

“I am Ingrid Brandl Galatea!” came the proud reply.

She met his charge head-on. Their spears clashed with a loud crack in the center of the arena.

To the crowd’s surprise, the golden-haired lancer fought with far more precision than expected — going toe-to-toe with the resident spear expert of the Black Eagles.

Their duel began to draw more attention. Students leaned in. A few passing knights paused to watch. Even Thunder herself stopped to observe.

And all the while, in the shadowed corner of the room, a certain retainer’s lips curled into the faintest of grins.

---

“Hey, Goldie’s holding her own! You should maybe try to bring her into your flock. It could be interesting,” Sothis said, floating beside the two fighters. As usual, neither of them noticed her presence. No one in the training hall could see or hear the green-haired ghost… no one but Byleth.

“I wouldn’t be against it,” Byleth replied, eyes still on the duel. “But I don’t think she wants to leave her friends in the Blue Lions.”
He paused, watching Ingrid deflect another strike. “Still... she’s doing better than I expected. I knew she wasn’t weak. I’ve seen her fight during the mock battle and in other training sessions, but this is quite impressive.”

The clash between spears echoed through the room, drawing in more onlookers. Among them, Byleth spotted Catherine. He gave her a short nod, which she returned.

Sothis drifted closer, arms crossed as she hovered over Byleth’s shoulder.
“Well, maybe hearing about how great her family used to be lit a fire in her,” she said. “Didn’t we hear her house wasn’t doing too well?”

Byleth thought back to his mercenary days. It was true. His father and fellow mercenaries had often avoided contracts near House Galatea’s territory. He remembered hearing the region had been declining for years, families scraping by, many hoping to resettle elsewhere.
It wasn’t a full exodus, not yet. Many still hoped their lord would find a solution. But knowing all that, he could imagine what it meant to Ingrid to be reminded of her family’s legacy , especially one tied to heroism.

“Yes,” he said aloud. “And I heard they’re looking to marry her off.”

“Oh, the poor thing. Forced to marry just to save her house...” Sothis scoffed, genuinely sympathetic. “That’s just sad.”

“It’s the way of nobility,” Byleth said with a shrug.

Before Garreg Mach, he hadn’t thought much about noble customs .Only whether they offered decent pay. But since arriving, and especially after speaking with Edelgard, he’d started to view them differently. Edelgard, in particular, seemed disgusted by the abuses of noble power. She rarely held back her opinion.

“Speaking of nobility,” Sothis said, tilting her head. “Looks like the noblest of them all is finally starting to land hits.”

They both turned back to the arena. Ingrid was still fierce, but Ferdinand had gained momentum, pushing her back with a well-timed flurry.

“It seems our two weeks of intensive training are finally paying off,” Byleth muttered.

Ingrid blocked a strike but was too slow to counter. Ferdinand stepped in and lunged forward, striking near her center.

“Looks like your red birdie might win,” Sothis grinned. “Maybe your dark one will finally approve of him.”

At the mention of Hubert, Byleth instinctively glanced toward the bench where he’d last seen him.

Empty.

“Where did he go?” Sothis asked, scanning the crowd.

“It’s a diversion,” Byleth said calmly.

“A diversion? For what?”

It wasn’t new. Since joining the Black Eagles, Byleth had grown used to Hubert’s mysterious disappearances. Sometimes he vanished for ten minutes, other times for a full day.
But Byleth never scolded him. He knew the retainer served Edelgard directly, and if he wasn’t present, it was because of something she had authorized. Byleth respected that and trusted Edelgard enough not to pry.

“Still, your princess is lucky,” Sothis said. “To have such a loyal agent.”

“She’s not my princess,” Byleth replied, eyes briefly flicking toward Edelgard. She sat with Dorothea and Petra, all three watching intently.

Sothis floated closer, smirking. “Maybe not now. But give it time... we must think of the future and—"

Her voice was cut off by a sharp cracking noise.

Both of them turned back to the arena.

Ferdinand’s latest strike had been so forceful that Ingrid had raised her spear horizontally in defense and it had snapped clean in two. Gasps filled the room.

Both fighters stood frozen, surprised by the sudden break.

Byleth stepped forward immediately, raising a hand. “Broken weapon. Ingrid forfeits. Ferdinand wins!”

Cheers erupted from the Black Eagles’ side. Even Edelgard gave a faint nod of satisfaction. Despite her usual distance from Ferdinand, she was clearly pleased to see her house claim another victory.

Ingrid let out a long breath and gave a small nod of acknowledgement to Ferdinand, accepting her defeat with grace.

Byleth watched as she walked back toward the Blue Lions, her head slightly bowed, that is until her friends greeted her. Sylvain, Mercedes, and Annette approached with open smiles and encouragement, congratulating her for her good performance. Even Dimitri gave her a reassuring wave.

As the professor scanned the room to select the next pair of fighters, he noticed Hubert had returned.

---

Ingrid quietly placed the broken halves of her training spear into a storage bin near the corner of the hall. Her body moved on its own, her mind elsewhere.

"I know I gave it a good fight… So why do I feel so low?"

Despite the cheers, despite the praise…Even from Felix, of all people,there was a dull ache inside. She had fought hard. Held her own. Yet the sting of failure lingered.

"It was nice, hearing about what my ancestor did. But… what have I done that would make anyone say I live up to the name Galatea?"

She sank down onto a bench. The wooden seat was cold beneath her, but her thoughts were elsewhere.

"He disobeyed his king, yes—but he did what was right. He took a risk and saved lives. That’s the kind of knight I want to become… Strong enough to do the right thing, no matter the cost."

She glanced back at the arena, searching for a distraction.

The next match was beginning: Ignatz versus Ashe.

Both looked tense, but not from rivalry. It was the spears. Instead of bows, the two archers had been handed wooden spears to test their versatility. The mercenary turned professor must have wanted them to train for the possibility of losing their main weapon.

"Poor Ashe… He’s never been the best in close combat."

The duel began slowly, awkwardly. A few pokes and clumsy footwork. It didn’t take long for boredom to settle in.

Ingrid’s gaze wandered.

That’s when she noticed him. Hubert. And he was seated alone on the far side of the hall. His expression unreadable. His presence, quiet but piercing.

She hesitated.

"Well… it’s not like I have anything else to do right now."

And so, without fully understanding why, Ingrid stood up… and began to walk toward him.

Toward a strange and unexpected turn in her day.

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"It's done… I got it."

Hidden beneath his right arm, a pair of prototype handcuffs rested,cold, metallic, and humming faintly with energy. Hubert inspected them briefly before casting a glance toward the storage room.

Through the narrow opening, he caught sight of Catherine, now disinterested in the training match, returning with a pair of knights to secure the door. The heavy metal slammed shut with a dull clang, followed by the distinct sound of the lock turning.

"It seems I acted just in time," Hubert murmured. "Now to reach my contact in town. He’ll be able to study this model and determine how best to disable it. Even if they develop newer versions, this knowledge should give us the edge we need…" He leaned back, folding his arms, mind already calculating. "After that, I’ll need to track Catherine’s next deployment window. Returning it unnoticed is key. The less suspicion, the bet—"

“Hey, Hubert!”

Click.

Ingrid dropped onto the bench beside him, bright as a bell. “Sorry to bother you, but do you have more stories ab—”

Click.

They both stilled. Slowly, she lifted her left arm; he raised his right. Identical green-alloy bracelets blinked at them.A short chain cinched tight between their wrists.

“Hubert… what is this?”

He stared at the cuffs, jaw tightening. “Trouble,” he said. And the chain locked with a final, merciless click.A small green light who suddenly turned red. Indicating to everybody who could see it that the pair of handcuffs was perfectly operational and now firmly locked.

 

 

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End of chapter 1.

Here i completly rewottre the first chapter , the second one should come soon. I hope you will enjoy the read.

Chapter 2: Chapter 2 – Bound by Circumstance

Summary:

Ingrid wanted a normal day. Instead, she’s handcuffed to Hubert.
No, really. Handcuffed.
Now the two must work together to avoid scandal, suspicion… and each other.

After having reworked on the first chapter , after so much time here is finally the second one. I hope you will enjoy it.

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Meanwhile in the monastery training area, the classes kept on.

"Ignatz! Pull your guard higher. Ashe, good adjustment, try to keep your feet grounded," Byleth called out calmly, pacing between the students still training. From his position near the edge of the arena, he had a clear view of the duels, but his thoughts drifted slightly. The Golden Deer and Blue Lions were more focused on trying to outdo each other with their wooden spears than on proper technique, their classmates cheering them on.

Professor Byleth stood at the edge, arms folded loosely, his usual unreadable gaze sweeping over his class. Sothis’ voice drifted into his mind, as casual as ever:

“The dark-haired one is gone.”

Byleth’s eyes shifted toward the empty space where Edelgard’s retainer had been. Hubert’s presence at drills was never enthusiastic, but his absence was seldom without reason.

“Shouldn’t you be concerned? That one slithers off like a shadow. He’s probably scheming something again.”

Byleth’s expression didn’t change. Hubert’s scheming was… expected. He gave the faintest shrug, earning an exasperated sigh from Sothis.

“Honestly, you’re hopeless.”

---

Chapter 2 – Bound by Circumstance

Hubert winced slightly as his back struck the cold stone wall.

Ingrid stood in front of him, eyes sharp and unrelenting.

He had managed to drag them both out of the training arena without being seen, despite her repeated questions along the way. But it seemed she was done being pulled around without answers.

With a sharp tug on the chain, she yanked him toward her and shoved him hard against the wall of a secluded alcove near the western staircase. His tailored Black eagle coat, black trimmed in pale gold, wrinkled against the wall. Even shoved off balance, Hubert looked more shadow than man, with a lean frame, long hair falling over one pale eye, lips set in tight composure.

It wasn’t quite noon yet. The halls were quiet. Most students were still gathered in the arena, and few passed through this part of the monastery at this hour.
Right now, that was the only thing working in Hubert’s favor.

Ingrid’s elbow pressed against his chest, keeping him slightly off the ground. Her stance was solid. Trained. Sure of her strength. Her boots braced firm on the stone floor, braid swinging with the motion. The Blue Lion coat clung to her shoulders, tailored for combat but still knightly. She carried the strength and discipline of a soldier, and Hubert felt every ounce of it.

Hubert exhaled slowly. He had forgotten just how strong she was. Physically, she might have been one of the strongest students at the academy. Certainly far stronger than him.

“Enough,” Ingrid snapped. Her voice echoed off the stone walls.“You’ve been dragging me like a horse on a rope and ignoring every blasted question. You don’t get to stay silent anymore.”

Her eyes narrowed. She then lifted her cuffed wrist. “What is this thing? What did you do? Take it off.”

The chain between them clinked faintly as she shifted her grip.

Hubert paused a moment, already working through contingencies. Then, with dispassionate ease:

“Those are experimental restraints. From the monastery’s armory. I took one when no one was looking. You sat down beside me, leaned in, and the device activated. The mechanism locked as soon as our wrists aligned.”

“You stole from the Church?” Her voice rose in disbelief. “Are you insane?”

“Naturally. It comes with the job,” Hubert shrugged, as if he had misplaced a quill instead of stolen from the Church.

Ingrid stared at him, stunned. After a beat, she let him drop back to the floor, but didn’t step away. The chain wouldn’t allow it.

She raised her cuffed wrist again. “Take it off,” she said flatly. “And I’ll just… forget this ever happened.”

Hubert sighed again, more heavily this time.

“I can’t.”

Wrong answer.

Her anger flared. She grabbed his collar, dragging him back up.

“You can’t?!”

“Like I said,” Hubert replied calmly, “I took them. But I don’t have access to the key systems.”

Her grip faltered. She let him go again, fuming.

“If you don’t take this off in the next five seconds,” she hissed, “I swear I’ll drag you straight to Catherine and the Archbishop. Let’s see what they have to say.”

Hubert felt his back against the stone and, for a moment, measured his options. Catherine’s suspicion. Rhea’s judgment…Then even Byleth could become suspicious of Edelgard. None of those outcomes were good for the imperial princess, and not for him. And if Ingrid was tied to it… she wouldn’t escape unscathed either.

He straightened his coat slowly, brushing the dust from his sleeve before speaking.

“You could,” he admitted, tone quiet. “Turn me in. Call the Church’s attention here and now.”

Ingrid’s eyes narrowed, waiting for the rest.

“But think of how it would look,” Hubert continued, almost dispassionately. “In a corridor, alone, chained to me Edelgard’s retainer. Few would wait for explanations. They’d assume the worst.” Ingrid stiffened, shifting her weight as Hubert’s gaze didn’t waver.

“They’d talk of bribes. Of secret bargains gone wrong. Whispers spread quickly…Especially when tied to the heiress of a struggling house.”

Her mouth opened to retort, but his tone left no opening, his words almost like a report delivered to a commander. Ingrid froze, a breath stuck in her throat.

He tilted his head slightly. “People rarely wait for explanations. They’ll imagine their own stories. A bribe, a bargain, anything that fits their suspicions.”

He let that sink in. Then he kept on.

“Perception spreads quickly. Nobles talk.” But this time Ingrid shot back.

“Let them. I’ve faced gossip before.”

Hubert smirked “Not when it touches the prince’s trust. That is… harder to regain. Maybe the Church will give you the benefit of the doubt. Catherine might even praise you for recovering stolen property. But your classmates? The nobles of Faerghus? Dimitri?”

Ingrid didn’t reply. Her stance hadn’t shifted, but the certainty in her eyes had faded.

“Your classmates may defend you,” Hubert allowed, voice softer. “Mercedes, Annette — perhaps even Sylvain. But the rest? Nobles remember gossip longer than truth. And Dimitri…”

He paused, his pale eyes narrowing slightly, not in threat but in thought.

“Dimitri values loyalty above all else. Even the shadow of doubt is enough to make him hesitate. If suspicion takes root, his trust in House Galatea could suffer. And trust, once shaken, is not easily restored.” Hubert used this opportunity to adjust his glove on his right hand.

Silence pressed in. Ingrid’s jaw clenched, her free hand tightening at her side. The chain between them rattled faintly with the movement. Her eyes darted, as if she wanted to refute him, but couldn’t.

Hubert’s voice lowered.

“At first, perhaps it would only be a glance, a pause in his voice,” Hubert said quietly. “But over time? It could be distance. Exclusion. And once that happens…” He shook his head, letting the thought finish itself.

For a long moment Ingrid didn’t speak. Her eyes were hard, but the certainty in them had dimmed.

Ingrid exhaled sharply, loosening her grip on the chain. “What’s your plan?” she asked, voice low. Hubert allowed himself the faintest smile, more weary than triumphant.

“I have someone in town who can help us. Quietly. If we move at noon, we can slip through with the other students.”

He raised his right hand slightly, the iron cuff gleaming faintly in the dim light. As expected, the movement pulled Ingrid’s left arm along with it, the chain between them rattling in quiet protest. She frowned at the motion—but nodded after a moment.

“We’ll wait until noon,” Hubert continued. “That’s when the monastery gates open to let students eat outside. It’ll be our best chance to slip away.”

But Ingrid’s eyes widened in sudden realization. “Wait—hold on. There’s a guard posted at the exit! How are we supposed to walk past him like this?”She raised her wrist again, the chain clinking between them. “They’ll see we’re cuffed together!”

There was a note of genuine worry in her voice now.

Hubert, of course, only grinned.
“I’ve accounted for that.”

Ingrid blinked. “...What does that mean?”

“I have a way,” he said, lowering his voice slightly. “But it involves a bit of acting. Think you’re up to it, Dame Galatea?”

---

The clash of practice still echoed faintly as Professor Byleth raised a hand, signaling the end of drills. Right after, the bells tolled noon, rolling over the monastery and the town beyond.

“That’s enough for today,” he said, voice even as ever. “Take your lunch. Afterward, the rest of the day is yours.”

The students relaxed, blades lowered and shields set aside. Sweat and laughter filled the courtyard as Sylvain swung an arm lazily around Felix’s shoulder.

“Come on, boys and girls, let’s hit the canteen before the line gets too long.”

Mercedes smiled politely, Annette trailing beside her, bright-eyed but distracted. “Wait, where’s Ingrid?” she asked, scanning the thinning crowd.

The others glanced around, but there was no sign of the blonde knight-in-training.

“Oh, I’m sure that she left a little early and that she’s probably already stuffing her face with fish and bread,” Sylvain said with a grin. “You know her.”

The Blue Lions laughed, Felix shaking his head with a rare smirk. “Figures.”

Satisfied, the group headed off toward the refectory, leaving the arena behind.

---

Meanwhile, near the monastery’s main gate

From their hidden corner near the inner stairwell, Hubert and Ingrid waited in silence. They had stayed out of sight, positioned just around the bend from the main exit where students would normally begin to head into town for lunch or some downtime. The bells had rung a minute ago; soon students would reach this area, and when that happened, it would be better for the two of them to have already left.

Ingrid leaned slightly, just enough to peek down the hallway.“The guard’s still there,” she whispered. “Same one who usually reports to Professor Byleth, I think…”

Hubert gave a soft nod. “Yes. Let him go.”

She blinked. “Let him go?”

Sure enough, after a moment, the guard straightened, gave a curt nod to a passing knight, and headed off in the direction of the dining hall.

Ingrid furrowed her brow. “You knew he’d leave right at noon?”

“I’ve memorized the schedule,” Hubert replied flatly.

She gave him a look, but he didn’t elaborate.

A moment later, a second figure stepped into view,the replacement guard. Older, slightly bulkier, with a lazily fastened tabard and a half-bored look on his face. His posture was sloppy. His eyes scanned the hallway once, then settled into a blank, indifferent stare.

Hubert’s lips curled into a faint smile.

Ingrid caught the change immediately. “What is it?”

He turned toward her, eyes glinting.

“Let’s go.”

“What—wait—now?”

He was already moving, tugging slightly at the chain to get her to follow. “Yes. Now.”

Ingrid moved after him, confused but wary. As they stepped into the open corridor, the sunlight from the outer doors lit the cuffs and chain between their wrists, stark, obvious, impossible to miss.

She braced for the guard’s voice. A shout. A question. Anything.

But the man barely glanced in their direction.

He didn’t even shift his stance.

Ingrid blinked. Her confusion deepened, but as they passed him, walking calmly, unchallenged, a thought clicked into place.

The chain had rattled. The cuffs had been clearly visible.And yet… nothing.

She turned her head slightly to look at the man again. He scratched his chin and stared blankly forward, like no one had passed at all. From a distance, they might have looked like any two students walking side by side: the tall, dark-coated retainer with his measured stride, and the blonde knight with her braid catching the sunlight. But the cuffs that bound them glinted with each step, turning the picture into something far stranger.

Her green eyes narrowed, sharp as the spear she so often carried on her back. Practical, unyielding …She saw problems first, solutions later

“…He’s one of yours, isn’t he?”

Hubert gave a slight, pleased hum.

“Let’s say his loyalty is… flexible,” he replied. “A few gold coins, a few choice favors. He sees nothing when I need him to.”

“You bribed a church guard?”

“I bribed several. But he’s the most reliable for lunch hour.”

Ingrid muttered under her breath, “You’re insane.”

“Perhaps,” Hubert replied, amused. “But we’re not stopped, are we?”

Ingrid muttered, “You’re insufferable.”Hubert’s smile thinned. “And yet, effective.”

The chain rattled in the silence, saying what neither of them dared to: they were stuck, side by side, until further notice.

---

End of chapter 2