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Hubert’s study smells faintly of coffee.
He prepares coffee in his quarters as well, but he does not allow the aroma to linger there. There is a risk to having such a distinctive scent in a place where it would attach itself to all of his belongings. Byleth can already identify his things at a glance, and it would be foolish to think she was the only one paying attention.
It would be a simple matter to air out the study; Hubert chooses not to.
It’s a simple pleasure, and one that fades into the background while he works, but Hubert is no knight. There are many things he does not allow himself, but something must be gained from their absence. He sees little value in self-denial for its own sake.
Which is exactly why he invites Ferdinand in whenever he stops by Hubert’s study with a fresh roast. If he were looking to avoid all worldly pleasures, he would never allow it.
“I thought this might be where you were hiding,” Ferdinand says, his smile bright and honest.
“Given that this is my personal study, that is hardly a deduction worth commenting on.” Hubert shakes his head and steps back from the doorway to allow Ferdinand inside. This close, he can see that the oncoming summer has reached the prime minister before anyone else. His freckles are back.
Ferdinand laughs and briefly touches Hubert’s arm as he walks past him. “Anyone else would have checked Edelgard’s audience chamber first.”
“Byleth is assisting her today.”
“Historically, that hasn’t stopped you getting involved.”
“And yet, here we are,” Hubert says, following Ferdinand back to his desk. “Let me get the tea.”
They’ve kept up this exchange of beverages for three years now, but Hubert suspects that Ferdinand will never get past the fact that Hubert keeps his favorite tea in his study. Ferdinand is far too expressive for his own good, and Hubert has not missed the brief moments where his face betrays a pained longing.
He watches for that moment out of the corner of his eye, aware that this is a masochistic tendency as much as it is a selfish one. As satisfying as it is to know that Ferdinand desires him, there is no path forward in the matter.
Ferdinand is bright and personable, too valuable in the social sphere to be wasted on a spymaster, and already loyal to Edelgard without the need for a marriage to cement it. It would bring the risk of scandal, without any political benefit.
He can’t justify pursuing it, no matter how much he wants to.
It is unusual for him to be dwelling on such matters. He’s had too much time to think as of late, with Byleth back in the capital and taking over some of his usual tasks. There is no point to bitterness, and even less to acting on it.
His next words are cruel nonetheless, a twist of the metaphorical knife.
“If you have time to take tea in my study, am I to assume you’ve rejected your most recent suitor?” Hubert asks, pretending not to notice the way Ferdinand’s smile drops abruptly. He sets the teapot down like nothing is going on. “Lady Edelgard informs me this was the fourth hopeful young lady in as many months.”
Ferdinand flushes and drops his gaze. “Oh, you… You knew about that! Of course, silly of me to think you wouldn’t!”
He laughs awkwardly, and Hubert presses his advantage.
“Whatever unlucky woman ends up married to you will be brought into Lady Edelgard’s inner circle. It is only natural that I keep an eye on your prospects.”
Ferdinand deflates even further, going from flustered to outright dejected. “Ah. Yes. For Lady Edelgard.”
This should be the best possible outcome. Ferdinand dismissing suitors because he’s pining like a schoolboy is pointless, and Hubert has just given himself the chance to crush whatever hopes he’s clinging to.
Instead, he says: “I will admit to a certain level of… personal interest in the matter.”
Ferdinand’s head snaps up. His expression is stunned and vulnerable, and, alarmingly, Hubert experiences a sharp urge to comfort him.
“What?” Ferdinand asks, and the intensity of the question makes Hubert realize that, maybe, there was never an option to brush this away. That Ferdinand was never going to be able to push his feelings into a corner and marry some pretty noblewoman.
Hubert sighs, more heavily than he intends. “You know as well as I do that we are not a good match.”
“You-- You’ve been thinking about…” Ferdinand trails off, gulps audibly. “You’ve been thinking about you and me?”
This conversation has rapidly gotten away from Hubert, but the time for regrets is later.
“I didn’t intend to speak about this today, but if you insist. Yes, I have given thought to the matter. My fondness for you has no bearing on the fact that you are better off with virtually anyone but the emperor's spymaster.”
Ferdinand laughs, running a shaky hand through his hair. “I thought I was imagining things! You really-- you really have feelings for me?”
Hubert sighs, frustrated. “Yes--”
He doesn’t get out any further words before Ferdinand grabs his hands.
“Then-- Then I think we should get married!”
Hubert is stunned into silence. Ferdinand takes this as his cue to continue talking.
“I-I know this isn’t a great proposal, and we haven’t always gotten along, but-- but my heart calls for yours, day and night. Had I known you felt the same, I would have asked you long ago.”
“You have better options,” Hubert says, so taken off guard that he can’t think of anything else to say. He was thinking about coffee ten minutes ago.
“It has been years since I’ve even considered anyone else,” Ferdinand says, almost pleading. “Please, don’t reject me for my own sake. I can handle any reason but that.”
Hubert can think of many other reasons. None of them are true.
“We will need to speak with Lady Edelgard,” he says, finally.
“Really?” Ferdinand asks, his voice tilting up into shaky, nervous delight. “Then let’s go talk to her right away!”
Ferdinand lets go of Hubert’s hands and looks ready to sprint out of the room, only to have to grab the nearest chair to steady himself. He laughs, giddy. “I, um. I think my knees went out.”
Hubert gives up on not smiling.