There's something about Enbarr that attracts and disgusts Claude.
On the surface and in essence, there's nothing here that he is unused to. The ostentatious character and backstabbing reminded him of Almyra, while the constant polite bickering of nobles was just like it is in Derdriu. In a way, it's so normal that feels trite.
No, it's not about the city or the palace. It's about who he is while he's in here. A traitor. A conspirator. A saboteur. Titles he acknowledges the need of, but dislikes being associated to his name.
If he wants the Church gone and F贸dlan united, his best option is to throw his lot behind Edelgard. But once it is eliminated Faerghus is subjulgated, a day that's growing ever closer on the horizon, then... Well, she becomes a nuisance, one that's best dealt in a covert manner.
His throat itches. Just thinking about it makes him uncomfortable. He feels the gaze of others upon him, the justifiable suspicion. How they plan to betray him in turn.
As he walks down the long promenade, the cool springtime breeze blowing through his heavy attire, another figure emerges on the other end.