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As a former diva, Manuela knew dramatic flair better than most. Hubert had refined it to a precise point with every little deed. He teleported into her Adrestian estate with a subdued surge of dark magic around his feet, a faint smile on his face. He wore the typical servant’s attire from Garreg Mach—and it wasn’t lost on Manuela how significant that was. Hubert wouldn’t object to a black suit. The white shirt was nothing new either. But he’d made it very clear that there was very little at the monastery or the Church that he found worthwhile, so that they got him to put on that uniform in particular meant a lot to Manuela.
“I can’t believe they roped you into this,” she teased, setting her playbook aside on an end table beside her oversized chair. It was a draft from a friend’s mentee and fairly good. Raw and in need of a polish, sure, but the next generation of artists had so much freedom now and they were making the most of it.
Hubert extended a hand to help her to her feet. She had the cane beside her seat for that, but she’d never turn down a gentleman’s hand.
“Well, it wouldn’t do to let a young lady travel alone.”
Manuela laughed, and he just chuckled back. They all knew how she’d never talk about her age. But she knew Dorothea’s mark when she saw it, and Manuela wasn’t going to question that birthday gift from her own protégé. She said she didn’t want physical presents, so what was the harm in an empty flirt from the most somber Black Eagle graduate?
“Oh, you.”
They built an unlikely friendship over time with a mutual understanding about their respective poor choices. She healed him when he showed up injured between midnight and dawn with unexplained injuries, and he made sure she woke up in bed with water on her nightstand to drink in the morning. Hubert wasn’t the only one—and she wasn’t the solitary healer seeing after Edelgard’s vassal. But still, it was enough for that odd friendship.
“You certainly dressed the part of a noble escort.”
He cleared his throat, and Manuela smirked wider. Shyness wasn’t impossible with him. Just rare. Always adorable, however, and he couldn’t keep his tells from people he’d grown closer to. She picked up her cane and kept her arm linked in his.
“Yes, well. We should go.”
The warp was as smooth as ever with him at the helm. Dorothea explained over the communicating crystals that the party was in Enbarr, and travel was difficult for Manuela. Not that she was an older woman, of course.
Monica was tracing the small stage at the palace in crepe paper, which Manuela mostly recognized from costumes. Kids! Always coming up with something new every time she turned around. Edelgard wasn’t strictly Emperor anymore, so it was sweet of the government to let them have the stage. The redhead brightened instantly.
“Everyone! Manuela’s here!”
Dorothea poked her head out from behind the lowered curtains, beaming.
“Happy birthday, Manuela! Hope you’re ready for your exclusive stage play.”
Hubert guided her to an elaborate chair, well-cushioned and perfect for what she needed. It was the only chair in the space, truly making her an audience of one. Putting together a performance was a bold move when they had to impress Manuela. Of course, Dorothea would never let her down, and none of the former students could disappoint her if they tried. She settled into the seat and patted Hubert’s arm to let him know it was alright not to hover any longer.
Dorothea had pulled the curtains back in the meantime.
Each of her students had an obvious role from the start, with the rhythmic and fluid dances of Brigid clearly made by Petra and Dorothea’s signature flair throughout the lyrics. The heroic performance about a reunited family was barely over before Caspar leapt off the stage to proudly declare that he’d memorized his lines first—much to Ferdinand’s chagrin. Of course, he chimed in that he certainly had the most stage presence!
“A skill I learned by studying you, Miss Casagranda,” he shined with unmistakable pride. Perhaps because she was a generation above him, she’d never quite been annoyed by his self-praise. He’d seemed so young when he first came to the academy. They all did, but he had a sort of vulnerability behind all his confidence. She’d wanted to bolster that self-esteem into something that didn’t need outside validation all the time.
“Thank you, dear. You did remarkably, all of you!”
“Bernie—I helped with the set. You, you liked it?”
Half behind Linhardt, who was dozing on the stage in his seat off to the side, Bernadetta smiled. Coming to her party at all was a good sign. She knew the Black Eagles, and that had to help with her preference to spend time alone. Plus, she had all the time she wanted for that now that she wasn’t under her father’s punishing thumb.
“It wouldn’t be the same without your creative set,” Manuela said, watching her light up and duck more behind the half-asleep mage.
“They said I didn’t have to move if I didn’t want to, and that’s all I needed to hear,” Lin uttered, and after singing along, Manuela didn’t expect to hear him say anything at all. Socializing really took it out of him.
“Thank you, Manuela. We’re all glad you’re proud of the work we did,” Edelgard offered a polished version of what he was getting at. Ever the figurehead, even now that she’d stepped down from the role. But in that firm posture and practiced smile, Manuela spotted the somber student that came to Garreg Mach all those years ago.
Less vocally than Ferdinand, Edelgard still longed for her approval so much back then. The poor girl had lost her mother and siblings so young. Her father was broken in spirit before he passed in body, and that couldn’t have been easy either. Manuela was very realistically the last sort of parental figure she had. With a whole nation resting on her shoulders until very recently, Edelgard deserved to have someone she could look up to for a change.
So many of the Black Eagles still turned to her for guidance, even though they weren’t her students. They never had been. Yet they found time between classes to seek her out and get closer. Shez helped steer them through the war and got them safely to the other side, but somehow, they had found a way to think of Manuela so highly.
“Oh, Manuela,” Dorothea comforted her before the fat tears fell.
She could tell from her blurred vision that it wasn’t going to be a pretty cry. How lucky was she to have such an insightful protégé? Dorothea waved her former classmates in to join her with a hug around Manuela, complete with Monica, Petra, Caspar, Ferdinand, and Edelgard. Hubert, Bernadetta, and Lin were content lingering nearby. She wasn’t sure if there would’ve been room for them even if they were the sort to get close to others.
“I hope you enjoyed your 20th birthday,” Dorothea teased, a little teary herself as her voice wobbled. The others laughed along, jostling their circle.
“It’s perfect, darling.”