Chapter Text
1
As her consciousness was slowly returning, Felt became aware of the world around her, one sensation at a time. First came the soft mattress beneath her back – a luxury she'd gradually grown accustomed to during her time at the Astrea manor. Only to forget it all over again after nearly two months on the road.
Then came the warmth. Everywhere except for her feet, which went cold at some point during the night. She must've kicked the covers off without realizing.
Still half-asleep, Felt instinctively tucked her legs in under her.
"...Huh?"
Her heel bumped against something solid. In an instant, her eyes flew open. She nearly sprang upright, only to find herself held firmly in place by an unexpected weight draped across her waist.
Felt froze. That wasn't a blanket. It was an arm.
Her first instinct was to elbow whomever managed to sneak into her bed. But then, she inhaled deeply, her sensitive nostrils recognizing the familiar scent before panic could kick in. The memories came rushing back.
"...Oh." She looked up, just to make sure. "It's only Reinhard."
Judging from the slow, even rhythm of his breathing, he was still fast asleep. Resting against his chest, Felt could feel it rise and fall beneath her cheek. One of his arms remained wrapped securely around her, while the other still held the book he'd been reading aloud the night before.
The only book, he proudly claimed, that had ever made him jump for joy.
Felt tilted her head just enough to study his face. She saw him sleeping nearly every night, when it was her turn to keep guard. Even resting, he was always on high alert. Now, without his usual composure, he looked peaceful. Younger, somehow. The lines of duty and responsibility softened, leaving only the quiet expression of someone finally getting the rest he desperately needed.
She considered waking him up but quickly thought better of it. The last weeks were exhausting for them both. Instead, she settled back against him with a quiet sigh. Content to let him sleep a little longer, she let her thoughts drift back to everything that led them here.
2
Escorting the Sin Archbishop to the Royal Capital was anything but straightforward.
Felt didn't expect the journey to be easy. Even so, what should have taken ten days stretched into weeks, as one detour after another forced their carriage off course. By the time Sirius was finally locked away in the heavily guarded Prison Tower, Felt was more than ready to be rid of her. The Sin Archbishop would remain there awaiting interrogations by the kingdom officials. Interrogations for which Reinhard wanted to be present.
Which meant they weren't going home just yet.
Returning to the auxiliary Astrea manor felt strangely familiar. It was here that Felt spent several months of imprisonment life after Reinhard kidnapped her from the slums. This was before the Royal Selection – before he became her knight. Back then, she never imagined she’d one day be happy to return.
Carol and Grimm were already waiting by the entrance. Reinhard greeted them as Auntie and Uncle, while Felt simply called them Granny and Gramps. Over the last year, she'd grown surprisingly close to the elderly couple. They hadn’t seen each other for a while, only managing to exchange letters. Therefore, the girl gladly spent the following days catching up with them while also enjoying Granny’s excellent cooking.
It took her three evenings to realize with a startle that something was off.
She missed Reinhard.
On the road, Sirius aside, they were each other's only company. Felt got used to talking to him before bed and then again over breakfast the next morning. And so, she soon found herself wandering into his room almost without thinking.
As she stepped inside, she recognized the same dull, lifeless chamber. Even after living here for months, Reinhard never made this bedroom feel like his own. It felt oddly impersonal. The same bed, desk, wardrobe, and bookcase stood in every guest room of the manor. He never bothered with any personal touches.
She was just about to tease him for it when something caught her eye. She pointed at the new addition, frowning in confusion.
“When’d ya get this?”
Reinhard stepped beside her, following the direction of her finger. Mounted beside the bookshelf, there hung a small black-and-white newspaper sketch. It was drawn during Felt's interview as one of the Royal Selection candidates. She was sitting sprawled across a sofa, looking almost too comfortable with the reporters. Standing just behind her, Reinhard was watching the scene with a soft expression.
“I asked Auntie to save it for me. I enjoy this one very much,” the knight replied, his own gaze lingering on the drawing. “It’s the only picture where we’re together.”
The admission was so uncharacteristically open that Felt glanced at him in surprise. Suddenly, she found herself at a loss for words. She scratched the back of her head.
“Well, it sure makes this room less boring.”
A small smile touched Reinhard's lips as he quietly took his seat behind the desk. Before she knew, the warmth of the moment disappeared without a trace. It was replaced by the composed professionalism expected of the Sword Saint.
"Regarding Sirius's trial,” he said, looking through the papers, “tomorrow marks the first round of interrogations."
This gave Felt a pause. She didn’t expect the trial to start so soon. Folding her arms, she leaned against the windowsill.
"And they think she'll actually talk?"
"They hope she will."
She couldn’t help but snort. "Hope's all they got, huh?"
Reinhard’s expression darkened.
"There are... certain methods of persuasion they may resort to before accepting defeat."
Felt grimaced. She wasn't sure she wanted to know what those methods were. With a hint of skepticism, she asked,
"So, what's she even got left to say?"
Ever since Priestella, that question lingered on the back of her mind. Everyone who questioned Sirius walked away with little more than incoherent rambling. What else could anyone realistically expect?
"A great deal, potentially." Resting his elbow against the armrest, Reinhard chose his next words carefully. "The Witch Cult rarely acts without purpose. Every Archbishop possesses knowledge that could prevent future tragedies. That is not something we can easily dismiss."
"Assumin' they ain't all crazy?"
"They are," he replied at once. "That does not make the information they possess any less valuable."
Felt clicked her tongue. Annoyingly enough, he indeed had a valid point. However –
"I still don't get why you gotta sit through it all."
The Royal Capital was full of knights and other important people. There had to be other options, surely?
"If Sirius attempts anything, I'm the one best equipped to stop her."
Reinhard’s explanation was calm and composed. Which was exactly why it caused her to frown in discontent.
"I thought they had all those restraints, magic stones, and whatnot. Now you're tellin' me questionin' her's actually dangerous?"
"It may become so."
“......”
The knight’s expression didn't change. That made his answer even more unsettling.
"I've reviewed the reports concerning her Authority several times." He looked down briefly, as though replaying them in his mind. "I'd rather prepare for the worst than assume the prison alone will be enough."
Silence settled over the room. Felt could hear crickets chirping outside the window. Finally, Reinhard looked back at her.
"I also expect there will be... moments you would find unpleasant.” His voice softened. “You don't have to attend."
At least, this time, he didn’t tell her that she shouldn’t.
"Yeah," the girl said with a shrug. "But you're gonna."
"Yes."
He stated it without hesitation. In his heart, there was no question about him getting involved.
"Then I oughta be there," she replied with the same conviction, pushing herself away from the windowsill. "Y’know, in case she starts spoutin' more nonsense."
For the first time since the conversation started, Reinhard's expression softened.
"You needn't concern yourself on my account, My Lady."
"There ya go again!"
Her voice raised in visible irritation.
The knight tilted his head in confusion. "What do you mean?"
She walked up to the desk. Close enough that he had to lift his chin to meet her eyes. They were full of crimson fire.
"Why’d ya keep actin' like you're the only one who's allowed to worry?"
"......"
The knight’s gaze lowered to the papers scattered across the desktop. He offered no immediate reply. The silence stretched long enough that Felt was sure he wasn't going to respond at all. Still, it felt important that he heard her. She stepped around the desk, squeezing into the narrow space between it and his chair, until she stood directly before him.
"If she says anythin' stupid..." She paused. Finding the right words wasn't exactly her specialty. "Anythin' that gets under your skin..."
"––––––?"
Only then did Reinhard raise his eyes.
"Remember it's Sirius."
A flicker of confusion crossed his face. "What?"
"She's nuts." To stress her point, Felt jabbed a finger lightly against his chest. "Whatever comes outta her mouth, don't go takin' it personally."
Her concern wasn't unfounded. During their journey, she talked to Sirius on numerous occasions – always despite her better judgment. The Sin Archbishop had a frightening talent for sneaking up on people and getting on their nerves. Nothing good ever came from engaging with her nonsense.
Reinhard’s clear blue eyes lingered on his mistress’s hand for a moment before returning to her face. The corners of his mouth lifted almost unnoticeably.
"I'll do my best."
Felt studied him for another second. It wasn't the answer she hoped for. But it was the only honest one he could give.
"Fine." Clicking her tongue, she crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm holdin' ya to it."
"I know."
For some reason, those two simple words reassured her more than any promise could.
3
The next few hours slipped by almost unnoticed.
Old records lay scattered across the desk alongside reports from the Prison Tower and witness statements gathered in Priestella. One by one, they looked through every scrap of information the kingdom managed to collect about Sirius. Reinhard approached the task with his usual methodical precision, patiently weighing every possibility, no matter how unlikely. Felt, on the other hand, questioned everything that sounded too neat or too optimistic, forcing him to look at each assumption from another angle.
Outside, daylight quietly gave way to dusk. The last rays of sunlight crept across the floorboards before fading altogether. This left only the warm glow of the oil lamp on Reinhard's desk to illuminate the room. Neither of them paid much attention to the passing time.
Eventually, Felt rubbed at her temples.
The more they talked about Sirius, the more it felt like trying to untangle a knot with no loose ends. Every answer only led to more questions, and the endless speculations left her head pounding. They reached the point where continuing would only mean repeating themselves.
Reinhard seemed to arrive at the same conclusion. He gathered the reports into a neat pile and set them aside with his usual unhurried care. Meanwhile, Felt remained where she was, absently watching the flickering flame of the lamp. She could go back to her own room now. But she simply didn't feel like it. Judging from the fact her knight made no move to escort her out, neither did he.
After a thoughtful pause, he finally spoke.
“Do you remember our last time in this room?”
"Y'mean when ya asked me over in the dead of night?"
After the Royal Selection had officially begun, Felt’s camp was moving their center of operation to the main Astrea manor in Hakuchuri. On their last night in the Royal Capital, Reinhard invited Felt into his bedroom. There, he explained the reasons behind his sour mood. He told her a pathetic little story on how he tried to comfort Subaru, unintentionally disregarding the meaning behind his duel with Julius. She truly hoped he’d know better now.
Ignoring her jab, the knight continued.
“Back then, you evaluated my collection of books. You said that I had so many, and I probably never jumped from joy when I acquired any of them.”
“Yeah, well...”
"I never replied back then. I promised I would once I found my answer.” A gentle smile appeared on his face. “I believe I finally have."
Felt blinked, lost for words. She completely forgot. Who could've guessed that an offhand remark she made months ago would send Reinhard on a journey of self-reflection... Unable to think of anything to say, she wandered over to the nearest bookshelf, running her thumb along the worn spines.
"So, which one's it?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder.
"Here."
She expected him to point toward the shelves. Instead, Reinhard reached for the bedside table. He picked up a rather unassuming book and placed it in her hands. The plain leather cover had visible signs of wear. The pages yellowed, carrying a familiar scent of ink and old paper.
“Fairy Tales from Kararagi?” she read the title aloud. “A kid’s book? Why –?”
The question died on her lips as she caught up on the meaning behind his choice.
Reinhard answered anyway. His fingers brushed against the worn cover.
“Because it is the oldest book I can remember. Mother would sit beside my cradle with this book in one hand, me in the other. She would read to me until I fell asleep. At least, that is what I have been told. This is not truly a memory, but I cherish it nonetheless.”
“......”
Felt listened without interrupting. She rarely heard her knight talk about his family so openly, without being inquired. She was afraid to break the spell.
“Auntie said I laughed at every page, even the parts that weren't meant to be funny. So yes... this book made my heart leap for joy at one point. Now, it mostly brings me sorrow.”
Nodding her head in silence, Felt believed she understood why he felt that way. She recalled a woman with golden hair and Reinhard's eyes, sleeping only a few corridors away. Her face peaceful enough to fool anyone that she was only taking a nap. In reality, Louanna Astrea hadn’t opened her eyes since her son’s second birthday. No wonder he cherished the only thing that linked him to his mom, even if thinking back to their time together wasn’t easy.
As she flipped the book in her hands, Felt was struck by an idea. She sat down on her knight’s bed, crossed her legs, and patted the empty place next to her.
“Then read it to me. If that’s the one book that made your heart jump, it’s gotta be good! So you’d better not ruin it.”
“––––––!”
For the first time that evening, Reinhard's composure cracked. His face lit up. Without a word, he turned on the bedside lamp, lay down on top of the covers, and opened one arm expectantly.
Felt’s expression changed to one of bewilderment. “The hell ya doin’?”
"It's a bedtime story, Lady Felt. I assumed you wished for the authentic experience."
His answer was perfectly matter-of-fact. It irritated her how he could treat her like a little brat with a straight look on his face. Her eye twitched.
"As if!"
“––––––?”
Ignoring the invitation, she flopped onto the bed anyway, leaving a respectable gap between them. After punching a pillow into a more comfortable shape, she shoved it under her head.
"Go on, then."
Reinhard opened the book and began to read.
“A long time ago, there was a beautiful princess with long, blonde hair. She lived with her mother, in the middle of nowhere; in a tower so high that the only way to get to the top was to climb the princess’s hair –”
“Bullshit!” exclaimed Felt with a dubious look. “Ain’t no way that’s actually what it says. Here, lemme see.”
She snatched at the book and moved closer to get a better look. The knight pointed at the paragraph he’d just read. The full-page illustration made it impossible to misinterpret the author’s intentions. Indeed, Reinhard made nothing up.
“Huh. Go figure,” she said, scratching her cheek.
“Shall I continue?”
“Yeah, go on – I’m shuttin’ up.”
Still, she didn’t move away, resting her cheek on his shoulder, so she could follow the text herself. Reinhard’s breathing shallowed – as if he was afraid any move would startle her.
“Yes, so... One day, when Rapunzel’s mother was away, the princess sang her usual song...”
The knight resumed reading. As the story unfolded, Felt's promise to stay quiet lasted all of two pages. She asked many questions, pointed out numerous plot holes, and made Reinhard come up with funny backstories for every secondary character. By the time Rapunzel reached her happily-ever-after, they were both laughing over increasingly absurd explanations as to why the prince got lost so many times.
One tale soon became two, then three. Somewhere between a talking fox and a prince disguising himself as a merchant, Felt's commentary stopped altogether. Reinhard noticed only when he reached the story's midpoint and the interruption never came. He glanced sideways. where she'd fallen asleep against his shoulder, quietly drooling onto his shirt.
A soft laugh escaped his lips. Careful not to wake her, he slipped a bookmark between the pages and gently closed the book.
"...Good night, Lady Felt."
4
Felt instinctively burrowed closer into the warmth beside her. It reminded her of the nights she spent curled up against Old Man Rom back in the slums, when sharing body heat was the only way to keep the cold at bay. These days, a proper bed made that necessity obsolete, but not the habit. If anything, she grewn fond of lingering beneath the warm blankets for a few extra minutes every morning.
Today, however, sleep refused to return.
As she lay awake, she noticed the steady rhythm of Reinhard's breathing falter ever so slightly. Felt narrowed her eyes.
Caught ya!
A moment later, the arm around her shifted, his hand absentmindedly wandering a little too far up her side. She slapped it without mercy.
Reinhard's eyes opened at once. Clicking her tongue, she readied herself for the inevitable confrontation.
“Your book put me to sleep!”
The knight blinked away the last traces of drowsiness. Rather than defending himself, he considered the accusation with complete sincerity.
“I would assume this is its main purpose as a bedtime story. Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling sleepy, My Lady? We could have continued another time."
Instead of calling her out on such ridiculous accusations, he managed to shift the responsibility back to her. Felt idly toyed with his fingers as she thought back to the previous evening.
"'Cause I didn't wanna! Never seen ya enjoy anythin' the way ya did last night. You finally figured out what books're for. Me buttin' in would've just ruined it."
“......”
His chest rose and fell without him saying anything. Apparently, Reinhard needed some extra time to process his mistress’s unusual level of consideration for his feelings. Or rather, the unusually direct way she ended up expressing it.
“That bein’ said – couldn’t ya have carried me back or somethin’?”
The girl’s question wasn’t unreasonable. Her knight could have certainly managed that much without waking her.
“Indeed, a similar thought briefly crossed my mind.”
“And –?”
“...And what, My Lady?”
Rolling onto her side, Felt stared straight into those hopelessly clueless blue eyes. Clear like the sky above – enough to make her wonder if there really wasn't a single impure thought hiding behind them.
How could someone sleep in the same bed as a girl and act like absolutely nothing happened?
“Arrrghh! You really are like a kid sometimes, y’know that?! Except, I can't even picture little you actin' like one. Bet ya were all serious and uptight back then, too.”
Felt meant it as a jest – and yet, her intentions completely missed the mark. A bitter smile crossed Reinhard’s face as he explained.
"I'm afraid I can't deny that. I possess no memories of my early childhood, but I'd like to believe I was born much the same as everyone else."
His tone seemed lower now. With each word, his breath brushed softly across her forehead. Only then, Felt became acutely aware of just how close they were. It sent a shiver down her spine, causing her voice to tremble.
“Stop – bein’ – so – serious!”
She desperately wanted to catch him off-guard, but it didn’t feel like kicking him would do. Thinking hard, she recalled how Old Man Rom used to get back at her whenever she caused trouble. A mischievous grin spread across her face. Without warning, she dug both hands into Reinhard's sides. Seconds passed, and yet nothing happened.
“––––––?”
Not being one to give up so easily, she tried his ribs.
No reaction.
His neck.
Still nothing. Not even a twitch.
"You ain't ticklish at all! That's cheatin’."
Reinhard regarded her with mild curiosity. His expression carried the same quiet attentiveness he reserved for unfamiliar situations. He didn't seem bothered by the unexpected assault. Rather, he appeared to be evaluating it with earnest concentration. After a thoughtful pause, he finally spoke.
"You've tested remarkably few places before reaching that conclusion."
Felt froze. Her hands remained rested on his shoulders. Heat flooded her cheeks.
"How can ya say stuff like that with such an innocent look on your face?!"
With a muffled groan, the girl buried her face against his chest. A moment later, she felt Reinhard's fingers absentmindedly combing through her hair. At least he learned not to apologize every time she got worked up. Unfortunately –
"Lady Felt, I meant no disrespect. I would never presume that you would actually –"
"Oh, just shaddup already!"
“––––––!”
She clapped a hand over his mouth before he could say anything more. This finally silenced him. However, the sudden movement shifted them even closer together. Reinhard's hand slipped from Felt's hair down to her cheek. He watched her in quiet surprise. It wasn’t shock anymore, but something softer and warmer. This caught her completely off guard. Almost subconsciously, her fingertips traced the line of his jaw. It was smooth, without even a hint of morning stubble.
"Why're ya so damn guarded all the time...?"
The question escaped as little more than a whisper. She leaned forward. Their foreheads nearly touched.
"L-Lady Felt...?"
The uncertainty in his voice snapped her back to reality. She shot upright so quickly that she nearly tumbled off the bed. For just an instant, Reinhard's expression shifted from confused to almost hopeful. The sight sent another wave of heat rushing into Felt’s face.
"Gotta get ready for court." She practically jumped to her feet. "I'm hungry. How 'bout you?"
“......?”
She reached the door before realizing that he didn't move.
"...You comin' or not?"
The fragile closeness between them disappeared as quickly as it came. For a fleeting moment, Reinhard simply watched her, as though searching for the right words. Then, with his usual composure restored, his thoughts drifted to the first practical thing that came to mind.
“Aren’t you concerned about Auntie and Uncle seeing us leave my room together?”
Oh. So that’s his problem. Her temper rose.
“Shoulda thought ‘bout that before you lemme spend the night! Makes no difference now. If we start sneakin' around, they'll just think somethin's fishier than it already looks.”
Reinhard considered her argument. After a thoughtful pause, he said,
“Fair point, My Lady. If it would spare you unnecessary rumors, I could leave through the window."
Felt stared. Her face turned bright red.
"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard!" She pointed a finger at him. "But if you're really that ashamed of bein' seen with me, then fine! I ain't stoppin' ya, asshole! Just get movin' already – I'm starvin'!"
As she stormed through the hallway, Reinhard quietly offered her his hand.
"Hmph!"
She marched straight past it. Though not fast enough to hide the smile tugging at her mouth.