"Why does it matter that she didn't wield the blade that took the life of the Kingdom's beloved shield?" The fallen monarch's ears ring with the thoughts of those who can no longer think. The ideals of those who have no voice for which to share them with. "Why does it matter that she wasn't the villain who murdered the king of this nearly-forgotten land?"
"She's evil," they tell him. "She might as well be the culmination of all that is vile in this world. Destroy her, Dimitri. Bring about peace to the holy land, and justice to all of the souls who've perished by her hand."
Yet the renewed King of Faerghus ignores the cries of the dead. Their desperate please are heard, then discarded.
Because when the renewed king meets the eyes of the so-called she-devil, he sees not the cold-hearted emperor, but the girl he knew so long ago.
For this moment lost in time, it is as if the Adrestian Emperor and the woman called Edelgard are two entirely different beings. He's with a trusted ally. He's facing a hated enemy.
Neither of them truly know the person they stand next to. The memories of a pair of children, playing along the streets of the Kingdom's capital, belong only to the lost friends facing one another.
Despite the intentions that would prove beneficial to his army, Dimitri meets Edelgard with the hope of seeing his once beloved friend. A diplomatic meeting between monarchs doesn't interest the king, for stuck-up words and fake smiles could never bring about the peaceful world he desires to build.
Perhaps it's selfish. Manipulative, even. To try and find a moral middle ground by taking advantage of the other's nostalgia. He doesn't want to distract the empress from her goals, but rather find a way in which the two of them could rule in true harmony.
Deep down, he knows he's always wanted to stand with his friend, not against.
So when four sets of footprints end their paths on the sodden gravel road, Dimitri sends a silent prayer to the goddess. One in which he vows to stay true to his beliefs, and hopes that his friend will do the same.
He knew that having such naïve hopes would lead only to disappointment, and his feelings are confirmed when the emperor speaks lightly of the horror she's caused. While he solemnly understood that the girl he knew was unable to show herself, he'd daydreamed of a world in which she'd cast aside the mask of the cold emperor and reveal the true colors he'd loved long ago.
Perhaps it is no longer a mask.
There is no middle ground—Dimitri comes to this conclusion easily. Her ways of ruling would only divide the people further, and he curses himself for foolishly willing to believe otherwise. She holds no regard for the weak, and disguises her true intentions under the cover of providing a just world for everyone.
The dagger he'd given her long ago weighs heavily on his hip. He'd inspected it once more before embarking on this now futile journey. How such a small blade could carve itself so deeply into his memories baffles the king. As he holds the weapon to Edelgard, he feels the last bit of hope leave him.
I'm afraid it will do no good to reminisce, Dimitri.
That girl you knew back then is gone. As good as dead.
It's ironic, he thinks. How her few words could cut deeper than the knife he's given her.
But then, she thanks him. Proclaims that she never lost her heart due to the young prince's actions.
So when the Emperor of Adrestia turns her back on the King of Faerghus, Dimitri knows that Edelgard speaks the truth.
His friend is gone. Long dead, in her words.
As does the calmness of the ground, still soaking in the recent storm, the memories of two once beloved friends provide a breath of fresh air for the king, and a shivering reminder that he must win this war.
No matter the cost.
