[ For Ferdinand, the brightly lit ballroom is just as familiar as a battlefield is by now. Though he and his father never saw eye-to-eye, Ferdinand was never one to shirk his duties as the eldest son of a noble house – he embraced the role, fervently and with no amount of subtlety, in fact – which of course includes matters of socializing as much as it does war. So, while Hubert watches, skulking around the party and looming over Edelgard not unlike a vulture, Ferdinand instead makes himself useful by participating in the festivities.

He mingles, he chats, and if someone so chooses to ask him, he dances.

But even the most seasoned of nobles needs a moment to breathe, and when his most recent conversational partner takes her leave from their little stroll through the courtyard beyond the ballroom, he does not elect to return just yet. The night is cool and quiet, and the moment alone is quite welcome.

Welcome, though short-lived. If he did not know better, he would say Hubert materialized out of the shadows for as quietly as he approaches, plucking a strand of his hair away from an errant thorn, the loose ponytail he’s elected to wear for the evening doing nothing to keep it from getting snagged. Some might be unnerved by the other man’s sudden presence, but Ferdinand is used to it by now, and Hubert is a good friend, besides. ]

Ah, Hubert. Thank you. I did not realize…

[ A gloved hand reaches back to try and smooth out his rather unruly mane. He really should get it cut, but finding the time has proven difficult, and the others seem to like it, so… ]

I am surprised to see you out here. I thought you would be hovering around Edelgard like a thundercloud all night.