Horrible. My grandfather was far kinder to me than anyone could reasonably expect, and he deserved to live out his last days in peace, not war -- and I was only supposed to be in Fodlan for all of a year, not trapped for years trying to field a damn war! Let alone a war in a land whose history I barely understand!

[ He pauses, pressing two fingers to his lips, then shoots a glare at Ange. Not a serious one - he's not angry, not over this; while he'd usually sugarcoat it a fair amount more, Ange is the person he enjoyed complaining with most of all - but he can't help giving her a look anyway. He wags a finger in her direction. ]

Sneaky, [ he says accusingly. ] Not that you could expect much different. What sort of psychopath would be happy about being trapped in a war?

[ Maybe the one who starts the war. Though it chills him, sometimes, how closely his and Edelgard's actual ideals are aligned. If she had only talked to him first, if they could have done something together...

Well. That didn't happen. No sense in dwelling on it. ]