Kill the Archbishop is exactly what we did—in Fhirdiad, after your King sheltered her within his own castle's walls, head filled with her lies. And Seiros abandoned him to die in the mud of Tailtean for his misguided loyalty.

[Hubert wished he could be relieved, as the lights bounce in the darkness their their bearer's haste. It'd been far too long as it is, in his opinion. The absence being noticed eventually was not terribly much better than never.]

[He shakes his head, eyes still on the well.]

I am aware of the suffering. I am aware of the blood that soaks my path. I care not what history thinks of me for it—and frankly, neither does Her Majesty. All that matters to us is bringing about a world where daughters are not sold for their Crests, where sons are not discarded for their lack of them. Where sisters and mothers are not abused for the results of their offspring. Where children are not mutilated for power and knowledge.

You sincerely believe you can change matters with politics. I sincerely believe you cannot. When the next child is pushed into a well for his Crest, we will not tell him, "someone will come for you when it is convenient. That time is not now." No, we are making now that time. Lady Edelgard and I cannot abide this society any longer.

But that is our impasse, is it not?