"...I see. A different Dimitri, from a different Fódlan." Ingrid purses her lips. One where they were still all friends? This is a lot to grapple with; there were a lot of regrets tied up in the memory of Dimitri, as a consequence of choosing to dedicate herself to Emperor Edelgard's ideals. She'd expected to bury those regrets with his death. Now, it seems she may have to face them after all.
"How did this meeting go?" Ingrid asks, and not without concern. Both their hands are stained with the blood of former comrades and friends, Felix...Felix had killed his own father. Duke Rodrigue had been as a surrogate father to Dimitri after King Lambert's death, as well. Once, he might have been Ingrid's father-in-law. Killed by his own son.
"How can you ask that?" Even after all these years, Felix is still Felix. He hasn't been the most emotional or attached person in a long time. "We're friends, Felix. We didn't stop being friends just because you took off after the war's end. I just wanted to know that you were well. That you were finding some measure of peace."
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"How did this meeting go?" Ingrid asks, and not without concern. Both their hands are stained with the blood of former comrades and friends, Felix...Felix had killed his own father. Duke Rodrigue had been as a surrogate father to Dimitri after King Lambert's death, as well. Once, he might have been Ingrid's father-in-law. Killed by his own son.
"How can you ask that?" Even after all these years, Felix is still Felix. He hasn't been the most emotional or attached person in a long time. "We're friends, Felix. We didn't stop being friends just because you took off after the war's end. I just wanted to know that you were well. That you were finding some measure of peace."