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Today marks a very special day. The summer solstice is once again upon them and the imperial southern heat has found its way up into the morning air of Garreg Mach Monastery. It is the 22nd of the Garland Moon and, most importantly, Princess Edelgard von Hresvelg’s birthday. This particular birthday marks the year she turns eighteen years old, very special indeed. Hubert remembers the first time he celebrated Edelgard’s birthday, all those years ago. The princess had turned five and he was newly seven. No longer was he chained to his father’s company, made to sit perfectly still and wait patiently for him to finish. Rather, he spent his time shooing away little noble boys and sneaking her highness sweets. There aren't many fond moments that stick out in his memories that don’t include Lady Edelgard.
Hubert wouldn’t have it any other way.
He always wakes before dawn to tidy his bed, change, shave, and press his clothing for the day. He does the same for Edelgard, paying extra attention to the perfect creases in her school uniform to make sure she looks flawless as usual. He drinks a cup of coffee. The hour is still early when Hubert makes his way next door, their dorms directly beside one another. His presence is expected and Edelgard wakes to his greeting. This is their morning routine. It hasn’t changed in years and hopefully it never will. When that door opens in the morning it ends Edelgard’s night. No matter how hard it became to see in the dark, no matter how painful the thought, the memory, or the dream… every morning Hubert will always open her bedroom door, the sun that ends the night.
Edelgard can’t help the way she feels. A particular thought sticks in her mind as she gazes into her vanity mirror. Behind her is Hubert, taking sections of her long white hair and brushing them gently with a soft smile on his face. He touches her like she is breakable, handles her with so much care. Usually he is such an intense man but he looks so peaceful at her side, she thinks. They look rather attractive. She’s been thinking about it often, the way he looks. They way they look together . Today marks the eighteenth year she has been alive. No longer a child, Edelgard has grown into a woman. Perhaps they are womanly thoughts, the kind that maybe if she was normal they would feel normal. The thought of liking him. She pats foundation into her skin as he finishes.
She tried to kiss him the night before. Again. For what felt like the thousandth time. He refused her, like always, those skinny mage arms of his nudging her away. Gave her another scolding about how they could never be together. Hubert loves her, adores everything about her, and yet he refuses to kiss her. The entire event has left Edelgard pinning for his approval. She understands his issue, really she does, but together they will overturn what is expected of them. They won’t be shackled to their titles forever nor to society the way it currently is. In her mind, those traditions are what stand between their love and his resolve.
The product bakes into her skin, her face like a canvas. Really, Edelgard isn’t very interested in makeup. The hobby isn’t out of curiosity or desire but rather insecurity. It had all started with wanting to cover her white eyelashes. She felt they made her face look ghosty, like she is dead already. Black mascara hides their true color. Concealer had been next, to hide the dark circles around her eyes from fitful slumber. Then small pats of blush to the apples of her cheeks, to look more alive, thin swoops of eyeliner to even out her mascara. More became incorporated overtime. She doesn’t really like the makeup all that much, but she thinks Hubert does. She likes when he watches her put it on. In fact, he’s doing that right now. Those green eyes of his are completely mesmerized.
“Purple today, Lady Edelgard?” His mouth has grown dry from watching her so intensely. He doesn’t know why he asks it of her when it’s become her daily choice. “It does so bring out the color of your eyes.”
It is dangerous, the way he looks at her. Ever since they were children, Hubert has known that a relationship with Lady Edelgard is unwise. At many points in their life, the very thought was inconceivable. Completely and utterly forbidden, no matter how secretive… Never would he allow surface level lust come between them. They have been ripped apart once before, he would never allow it again. Till his dying breath (and ever after) he is her loyal retainer, her admiring vassal. The bond that they share is deeper than any romantic fluff a poet could contrive. What he feels for Edelgard is something akin to a religion and his lustful thoughts are a sin. Green eyes watch her poke her lips with clear beeswax, loving the scent all the products leave on her face. He is the sick, disgusting man in her bedroom thinking of licking the end of the balm to taste her mouth. The one who thinks to lift her makeup sponge and smell it . He has done it before while cleaning her tools. A dirty, filthy horrible man. Hubert is all of those things.
“I’m thinking pink, actually,” she answers her inner desires rather than practicality, fingers rolling a tube of lipstick free from its casing. She dabs the stain onto her bottom lip, the color not too bright nor too dark for a woman her age. Attention is given to the edges and corners while applying it. She presses her lips together to spread the color a few times, uses the end of her tiny pinky finger to rub any smudges away. Lipstick is pretty abnormal for the princess; finally seeing it on her face leaves Edelgard questioning if it suits. Her cheeks feel hot from embarrassment suddenly, somehow feeling too mature and yet far too young. Learning how to apply makeup makes her feel like a little girl sitting at her sister’s vanity. They couldn’t help her in her decisions anymore. Any expression of doubt melts as she looks up and Hubert comes into focus behind her. Her heart begins to race, equaling his. He’s been watching her… the entire time.
The way her beautiful, violet eyes gaze at him… It is almost entirely too much. Ever since the day he came of age, there has been an intense inner struggle over his feelings for Lady Edelgard. His young mistress, the very thought of her drives his developing mind to an insatiable thirst. Nothing so basic as simply kissing her, nor fantasies of her touching his repulsive flesh. No, rather he would like to taste her . Lick the side of her mouth and smell the scent of her hair. Keep her breath in a bottle to wear around his neck. Caress every inch of her body and find his favorite spots. Oh, does he try to keep those thoughts at bay. He dares not even allow himself in dreams. They plague him, like intrusive thoughts that refuse to leave his subconscious. Hubert thinks about oh-so many things.
It has become worse as her birthday drew closer. Once again, Edelgard pursues what she doesn’t understand. Before departing last evening they had spent some time together. She was always picking at his brain for more stories of their past. He obliges, never refuses her, reminiscing with a woman that doesn’t remember. There is something inside her that screams to understand a normal existence, he knows this. It is perhaps what motivates these moments between them. Another second in time passes with her lips pressed to his. She kissed him again last night, something he rejected like all other times before. He took her by the shoulders and apologized. The motions are like clockwork.
They cannot be. They will never be. He refuses to entertain the idea. He refuses to become his lady’s ultimate heartbreak.
“As you wish,” he rubs the silky fabric of her ribbons between his gloved fingertips.
Her heart continues to race thinking of his expression just now, “Hubert?” She turns her neck to face him when he’s tied her ribbons, lashes fluttering over violet eyes, “D…Do you like the way it looks on me?”
She wants so much of his attention this morning. His attention, the type a man gives a woman. Edelgard wants to feel like a woman. One that is alive. One that someone desires. Her birthday has brought many complicated feelings to the surface. He answers with a simple ‘yes,’ which prompts her to turn around to face him. She refuses to let him avert his gaze, waiting for an answer. She takes a small bottle of cream from her vanity and starts rubbing it into her scarred hands while she waits. Soft skin, well kept hair, the attention of a man… These are the things Edelgard wishes to have.
“Well— I… But of course , my lady,” he stumbles into the compliment, “pink accents your pale features. It brings attention to your flushed mouth and the blush in your cheeks.” Seeing her like this is a bit foreign. What Hubert would like to say is that she’s beautiful all the time; when she smiles, when she laughs, when she comes to him in worry or need, the way her brow arches, the way her body changes . His feelings are very complicated when it comes to the princess’s body. He has watched her develop her entire life. Perhaps seeing her in all this makeup reminds him that she— that they are no longer children. That her desires for him are not odd, but… natural. “Though I do wonder who’s attention you are pining for, painting your face so beautifully.”
He knows who. He should just say it. He will not.
“I have a request,” she swallows at his compliment, she knows he knows. “For my nameday would you… remove your gloves? If I may have a moment of weakness, I wish to feel your skin on mine.” Edelgard is the one who averts her gaze, feeling the warm blush on her cheeks. Such a bold request, it makes her feel giddy. The sound of cream slick between her fingers lures his eyes down to them. What he sees is that her nipples have grown hard under her white, long nightgown. She is thinking of him.
His mouth, once again, goes dry. Her request is very… personal. She knows how he feels about his hands. His awful, disgusting hands that are not allowed to touch her. They are very much flirting in this moment, though the expression of it is unfamiliar. He will not excel at this, nor will he meet her fantasy expectations. He will not be the prince of her dreams. Without another word he does as his lady requests. A sickness overtakes him when Hubert looks down at his skin, every inch of his hands marred with tight burns and deep cuts. His nails, coated in black varnish, are cut short and filed bluntly. There is regret, knowing that things have already been taken too far. To lay his filthy hands upon his Goddess is an unforgivable sin.
The smile on her face is his reward, girlish in her way. She takes them in her own as they are freed from their leather prison. What Hubert sees when he looks down at his burned hands is relatable. It is understandable. Yet when Edelgard looks at them she wants nothing more than to hold them, touch them, and bring warmth to his ruined skin. She beckons him closer and spreads cream over his charred palms, lovingly rubbing it into his skin with safe and gentle movements. She believes her own hands to be scarred, disfigured, but he thinks they are divine. Her touch alone is healing to him as she works over each finger, each palm, massages into the backs of his hands.
“There are so many things I wish to confess to you, Hubert. Things that you already know…,” she gazes into his palms, rubbing them with her thumbs. Her words cause such an intense emotion, keep her nipples hard as he’s drawn to look down at them— at her hands . She talks about loving him and this is how her body reacts. A lesser man would have fallen to temptation long ago. It’s powerful. It’s controlling. He thinks of filthy things.
“I’m sure, with time, you will confess all to me.” He doesn’t know how to be romantic, Hubert only knows how to be himself. He takes his eyes away from her chest and focuses them on her face. Her expression tries to trick him, wanting him to believe she feels shy. He knows his lady far too well to fall for such a feminine trap, however. He’s beginning to feel her lust… Her gentle touch is driving him insane, color beginning to appear in his own cheeks. That she can play so coy now, with such wanton violet eyes, shows him just how much of a woman she’s become.
He gulps at the spittle collecting at the back of his throat, “You’re excitable this morning. Understandable, considering it is your nameday. If you like, I’d be honored to massage your feet in return. It should help you to relax, my lady.” An action he rarely partakes in with bare hands. It is selfish and vile of him, but it is better than continuing to touch her own with his filth.
“Thank you, I welcome the offer,” the smile on her face is ever present.
At her command her faithful servant drops to his knees. Still in her nightwear and sitting upon her vanity stool was the Goddess before him. She lifts her gown, her thin legs shaved and rid of any hair. Her beautiful eyes stare down at him with such immeasurable kindness, the sort he does not deserve. He takes her left heel and holds it in his palm. His hands are completely ruined, it’s difficult to feel anything against the hardened skin. Hubert likes to imagine how they feel though. He closes his eyes and pictures her toes are cold, warm at the ankles as that heat travels downward. He rubs more cream into her skin, touching every little bone. Her toes wiggle in his fingertips as they are rubbed. Edelgard’s tiny feet are bewitching. Her soles are properly arched. She cracks her toes as Hubert’s hands rub out the stiffness from the top of her ankles to the ball of her foot. He thinks of how his disgusting, ruined hands don’t even deserve to touch the soles of her highness’s sweet small feet.
He’s right, it does help her relax. She leans back on her stool and enjoys Hubert's touch. He soon finishes with her left and moves to the right. “I’m in love with you,” she proclaims so openly. Almost like a jest, it’s said so casually.
“And I am in love with you, Lady Edelgard,” a smile on his lips… he means it, glancing up at her from his position on the floor. Hubert would be perfectly happy to spend the remainder of his life here, on the ground in front of her. Worshiping her for the rest of eternity.
She finds herself blushing at his passionate words, pulling her feet back when he is finished. Edelgard looks almost too adorable with her arms around her knees. She chuckles girlishly, “I think it’s about time I got dressed, don’t you agree?” When she hops from her vanity stool, the lotion on her feet makes the floor beneath feel almost unfamiliar. He joins her by her standing mirror, helping her with the clasp of her nightgown. It drops to the floor. Their relationship is a funny thing. Edelgard can stand before him, completely bare as the day she was brought into this world and Hubert will feel nothing. Her swelling chest and round backside doesn’t affect him like it should. These are simply part of her highness’s body. They were never intended to be his play things. That was something beaten into him far too young. Perhaps it’s why he focuses on the plump lips that speak so gently and the tiny feet that will lead him to a new life…
Her mind wanders while his hands press into her back, hooking her bra. There had been a morning they spent together much like this before. She must have been around fourteen. Her chest had begun developing and she was no longer fitting in her childhood clothing. Trying to force it on herself in embarrassment had gotten her stuck somewhere in the fabric. Hubert had come to her aid, his leather covered hands unraveling the cloth and pulling it over her chest. She remembers looking up at him through the mirror, always behind her. She’ll never forget the sight of his expression, him swallowing hard at the apple in his throat and staring down the creamy white cleavage forming on his princess. Edelgard remembers feeling… pretty. Time was attempting to heal her heartbreak from the experimentation done to her body. Hubert… he’s always made her feel pretty. Never did he fear looking at her skin, her ruined shell. The thought makes her— It fills her with desire .
“Your hands feel nice…,” her words are despondent, empathizing with his pain. “I wish you’d touch me like this more often.” With his hands, with his skin. She knows too well how it is to be self conscious and self hating of one’s scars, but she wants to touch Hubert’s all day. The longer their morning routine continues the more eager her flirting becomes. She slips a pair of panties up her legs and over her backside, dressing as they carry on conversation.
“Unfortunately I’m unsure if I can fulfill that request, though your happiness is quite the motivation. Anything to bring you pleasure on your birthday, my lady.” Dismissive, as always. Hubert can’t allow himself to sin any further. What Lady Edelgard is attempting to do is seduce him, he wondered when this day would come. There are so many other men who could easily strike her fancy. They would be dealt with, of course. Disposed of. Nothing can interfere with their plans. Not him. He refuses to succumb to this growing lust. No matter how intensely soft her hosiery feels in his fingertips. He leans over and helps her into the thick silk undergarments rolling the red fabric over her feet, up her ankles and smooth hairless legs. She squeezes them over her backside herself, smoothing her hands down over herself afterward. He tries not to think about anything at all watching her cup under the round cheeks and run her hands up over the curve of her bottom.
“Anything?” Edelgard swallows back the saliva building in her mouth, she’s thirsty. With her painted face and voluptuous body, standing in just her underwear… She wants to feel pretty again. Like that day her chest grew too big and he touched her, “You’ll do anything on my nameday?” She doesn’t want to stare at him in the mirror any longer, turning to face her dark messenger. Soft hands are placed on his shirt over his chest. Edelgard is about to kiss him again, in just her underthings. The answer is never given as her highness takes what she likes, leaning up on her toes just to reach his lips. An internal struggle begins within him even as he leans instinctively into what she wants, so she can reach, trying to decide what to do.
He wants to kiss her, press their bodies together, make her feel special and loved. He’s filled with a passionate desire to care for her, take her pain away, hold her during her sleepless nights and soothe her weary soul. Edelgard deserves the entire world. She’s intelligent, cunning and a born leader. Together they can right the wrongs of their blood based society, change their fates and then run away into the dawn of her new world. Only then would he truly be free to love her in this way she pines for. That is what he thinks before the taste of her lipstick touches his tongue. He takes her by the shoulders and pulls her inward, kissing her softly in return. The pain his rejection leaves on her face is too much. Today, and only today… Hubert can kiss her, he thinks. Just one kiss to make her smile.
It is a selfish thing, he thinks. He chases the taste of her lipstick in his mouth, the texture of it against his lips. She had started the twirl of their tongues together and, as with all things, Hubert followed her endlessly. He can smell her makeup and taste the mint in her mouth from her morning brush. He wants to swallow it all, become so entwined with her they can never be pulled apart. His hands curl a fraction tighter against her upper arms to hold her and it makes her shiver pleasantly. She wants him to kiss her, touch her, lose himself so much in their future that he forgets the past etched into his hands.
Edelgard has been waiting for this moment her entire life, for the day Hubert kisses her back. The grip on his shirt collar tightens, wrinkles the carefully pressed fabric, as she keeps him close. She almost doesn’t believe it when she feels the motion of his lips pressing back into hers. Oh, how she has longed for him to reciprocate. The stage is set much like her fantasies as they share a passionate moment in the morning together. Perhaps too much like her fantasies… one of Edelgard’s soft hands travels down his chest and over the front of his pants. In an instant, almost like his body is begging her, it reacts. Those burned hands go to her wrists, halting her in her tracks. The feeling of his cock through his trousers has Edelgard acting unwise.
“That—!!” A heavy sigh, “That is quite enough, my lady. Let us not rush these things.” Hubert is nervous suddenly, having lost himself in their kiss without realizing. Never did he think she would be so bold. Though, the idea that these activities have come to her mind before isn’t surprising. She— She wants this . Has wanted this. A vile act between princess and servant. Goddess, even his own body is reacting so painfully normal to the touch of a woman. She is a woman and he is a man and in this tiny pocket of time Edelgard is begging him to be normal .
She pouts at his words, “But— But Hubert, can you really deny how you body feels? What if it’s something I want to do?” The bratty princess jumps out as she tries to persuade him. She doesn’t wait for his answer, dropping to her knees, attempting to look cute with her fingers curling around the edges of his waistband. The closer his manhood inches to her face the more appetizing his cock sounds. She… She wants to experience a few things before she dies. Time isn’t exactly on her side. If she continues being the same cold, aloof girl she’s known to be… Well, she might just die that way. Who better to bloom in front of than her Hubert?
His soul feels like it’s about to leave his body. Those green eyes leer down at his precious Lady Edelgard, on her knees, hands attempting to dig into his trousers and find the thing she’s looking for. He swallows, never has he pictured her like this before. His boyish mind loves the sight, screaming at him to fulfill the requirements necessary to satisfy the two of them. He grits his teeth, sweat drips from his brow.
And like clockwork, he pulls her hands away, “You highness, the ground is no place for a princess.” The line Edelgard has crossed… What is unfolding in her bedroom on the morning of her eighteenth birthday. Why, it is despicable .
“Why don't I assist you instead, Lady Edelgard… You are a woman now, after all, with a clear desire that needs sated.”
Seeing her cheeks light up at his suggestion makes his cock swell. A hand is extended, offering to help her up and onto her bed. They had just gotten her tights on and now he’s pulling them off, over her backside and down to her knees. He couldn’t believe what he was about to perform for her. To service his lady on her birthday. In her eighteenth year. Somehow he always knew they would grow closer like this. That his mouth would become a seat upon which the emperor sits. That Edelgard’s lust would eventually corner them both and Hubert would need to make a choice. He grabs the fabric that connects her legs, pulling her tights off her tiny feet. Her small hips are taken and he pulls her to the edge of her bed, Hubert kneeling on the floor between her legs. Their eyes meet, burning with passion.
Her heart races, beating like a drum, “You— You want to do this, right? With me…” a moment of clarity, worried how forced his hand might be.
“My lady… Edelgard , I have dreamed of doing this for you,” his mouth waters at the notion, his face only inches away from her womanhood. Finally his eyes leave hers and they gaze upon her body, the forbidden fruit he has been warned away from his entire life. The white hair that conceals her modesty is curly and thick, glistening where it forms around the slit of her opening. Nothing is hidden from his perspective. Hubert stares in awe as the smell of her envelopes his senses. She went to bed thinking of him. He will never forget the scent of her. Without further hesitation he leans in to kiss her lips, running his tongue between her folds. Her pussy is sweet and warm… her juices stick to his chin the bolder Hubert becomes. She wiggles, shocked at the feeling of it and he presses his filthy hands tighter to her skin. The taste of her is almost surreal.
She reacts the moment his mouth touches her, twitching in new places as the man she loves tastes her. The thrill of it all keeps her excited. Something about the view of Hubert between her legs, lapping her pussy… It makes Edelgard melt! He tongues her clit, flicks around it and makes her squirm. She loves the way his slant nose presses into her white hair, her body reacting naughtly when he breathes in. Her juices collect around her opening and every so often he’ll lap the nectar up like he is starving. Edelgard tastes so amazingly good. Hubert finds himself closing his eyes and diving in. When he swallows it travels down his throat like a thick syrup.
It is a sin to touch Edelgard but perhaps it is a holy place, between her legs. Here on his knees, with her soft pretty feet pressing into his back, he worships her. His ruined skin pushes at the inside of her thighs, spreads her apart further. His hair falls over his face and her soft hands curl into the dark strands to push it back. He groans when she pulls on it as a particular curl of his tongue pushes her pleasure higher. He should feel nothing from this, should treat it as a mechanical act to please the Goddess and nothing more. He should not be achingly hard between his legs.
“Hubert!! I’m— I feel it coming!” she gasps out, voice nearly a squeak at the mounting pleasure. An orgasm was hard to achieve most nights on her own with her fingers pressing hesitant yet curious between her legs under her blankets in the dark. Now it burns inside her core, like a powerful force being held behind a weak door and tearing through the seams. It bursts and she moans his name again, overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure that overtake her as he brings her there.
The dining hall is littered with people, the last call for breakfast seems to be the busiest. Not that Edelgard would know, usually her and Hubert have come and gone by now. She sits with him, comfortable from her morning. They have promised (well, she has promised him ) to keep their relationship a secret. Which is perfectly fine, she doesn’t mind. It is just another one of their secrets promised in the dark that they will take with them into their new world. Her eyes feel heavy, lidded dreamily for him as her beloved manservant fills her thoughts. Their next kiss is on her mind. All the while, Hubert panics at the lingering taste of his lady that won’t leave his mouth. How thin and warm the skin was just inside the lips of her pussy, the last barrier of her innocence. He feels totally, completely, and utterly intoxicated. Drunk off the smell and taste. Truly, if she never touched him… he would die happy.
His happiness is short-lived when their classmates find them. Today marks a very special day, after all…