The shift is palpable, and not in a way he appreciates. It's almost as if there's a bad taste in the back of his mouth, at the edge of irritating his throat like bile. But why? He can't place it. It's just a feeling. Nonsensical and worrying.

Sylvain tries not to let it leech into his voice.

"Enbarr," he says, "you and I were watching out from the windows just before the throne room doors. Dimitri and the Professor wanted a moment alone with Edelgard, and then it was over. We won. I..." There'd been a thought on his mind in those last moments. Relief and exhaustion, but even moreso, a gratitude to everything they had done, and still made it out alive. He'd just been so happy to be beside Felix without visiting yet another graveyard full of friends and loved ones. "I remember asking what you were thinking about doing after we finally got to go home. You never answered me. Or maybe you did, and I couldn't hear you, but suddenly I was here."