It stirs something wistful inside of him to think about lands without royalty. Duscur was that way too. There was once a time in Dedue’s life where kings, princes, and castles were foreign words that meant very little to him. Words he would hear traveling Faerghans say in the port city where Dedue’s father set up shop, but that seldom had impact on his own life. Dedue feels worlds away from that point in his life. The idea that he could just forget it all now feels like a painful mockery. It’s too sweet, too tempting, in a way that cuts at his heart like a knife.

He tries not to think about how much it hurts when Dimitri says he finally has friends here. It’s foolish to get upset. Dedue was the one who abruptly shifted what they had into a work relationship. He can’t have it both ways.

“Then I will not say your title when we are in public,” Dedue says. It’s the best compromise he can manage. Not saying anything is easier than saying the wrong thing, and he still can’t even utter the name. It’s all been drilled out of him.