Chapter Text
Claire Redfield was returning to the palace more slowly than she should have.
Not because she was physically tired. Her steps were steady, even, practiced, as always. The guards at the gate nodded to her, and she returned the gesture almost automatically, without stopping, without a word. Everything looked as it should. As if nothing had changed.
And yet everything had.
The air felt heavier as she crossed the palace threshold. The familiar marble floors, the high ceilings, the light pouring in through vast windows, all the things that once gave her a sense of safety now carried something suffocating. As if the walls were watching. As if they remembered.
Two months had passed.
Two months since the day everything slipped out of control.
Claire clenched her jaw slightly and moved deeper into the corridor. Her hand tightened unconsciously on the strap of the bag slung over her shoulder. The image still lingered in her mind, one she could not force away.
A hospital room. The soft beeping of machines. The scent of disinfectant.
And him.
Lying still. Breathing, but absent. Her former bodyguard. The man who had stepped between her and a bullet without hesitation. The man who should not have been there alone. The man she should never have let out of her sight.
Claire closed her eyes for a moment, as if to push the image away, but it was useless. It returned every time, stubborn, relentless.
This was her first time outside the palace since that day.
And it was supposed to be… easier.
She had meant to prove to herself that everything was under control. That she did not have to live shut away. That she did not have to be afraid.
Reality corrected her quickly.
There had been no attack. No gunshots. No one following her.
And yet, sitting by his bedside, staring at his motionless face, she had felt something far worse than fear.
Helplessness.
Her footsteps echoed against the walls as she turned into another corridor leading to her private quarters. She usually walked faster here. Today, every step felt heavier than the last.
She did not notice at first that she was not alone.
“Claire.”
The voice was familiar. Steady. Calm, but edged with something that immediately caught her attention.
She stopped.
Lifting her head, she saw Chris standing a few meters away. He leaned slightly against a doorframe, as if he had been waiting there for some time. Arms crossed over his chest, his gaze fixed solely on her.
He had been looking for her.
Claire let out a quiet breath before stepping closer.
“Chris.”
His eyes immediately shifted into analysis. It was an instinct he could never turn off. He scanned her, catching every detail, the tension in her shoulders, the too-slow pace, the shadow of exhaustion on her face.
He noticed everything.
“I was just looking for you.” he said, straightening.
“I figured.” she replied calmly, though her voice was quieter than usual.
A brief silence fell.
Chris did not speak right away. As if giving her a moment. Or deciding where to begin.
“We need to talk.” he said finally. “Come with me.”
It did not sound like a request.
Claire frowned slightly.
“Now?”
“Yes.”
Short. Direct. No room for negotiation.
For a fraction of a second, she looked as though she might protest. She was tired. Mentally drained more than she wanted to admit. She wanted nothing more than to disappear into her room, close the door, and for a moment… stop.
But something in his tone made her abandon the idea.
She nodded.
“Alright.”
They walked down the corridor together.
For a while, they moved in silence. Their steps echoed in a steady rhythm, and the space between them felt tense, though neither commented on it.
Chris spoke first.
“You were at the hospital.”
It was not a question.
Claire did not look at him immediately. Her gaze remained forward, focused on the path ahead, as if that helped her maintain control.
“Yes.”
Brief.
“How is he?”
That question was harder.
Claire swallowed.
“The same.”
Her voice was quiet, but steady.
“No changes.” she added after a moment. “The doctors are saying the same thing as before.”
Chris gave a slight nod. As if he had expected that.
“Is he responding to stimuli?”
“Minimally.” She paused for a fraction of a second, as if choosing her words. “Sometimes. But it’s… nothing concrete.”
Her hands clenched.
“That’s not progress.”
Chris did not respond immediately.
“Claire…”
“Maybe.” she cut him off suddenly, quicker than she intended. “Maybe there’s something else they haven’t tried.”
Now she looked at him.
There was something sharp in her eyes. Something desperate.
“New methods. Experimental therapies. Anything. We can afford it, Chris.”
He stopped.
Claire took another step before realizing he was no longer beside her. She turned.
Their gazes met.
Chris exhaled quietly.
“Claire… I’ve done everything that was possible.”
There was no anger in it. No irritation.
Only exhaustion.
“The best specialists. Consultations abroad. Private medical teams.” his voice was calm but firm. “I didn’t overlook anything.”
Claire watched him for a moment, as if searching for a flaw in his words. As if looking for anything he might have missed.
But she knew him.
Chris did not give up.
Ever.
“If a new method appears.” he added more quietly. “He’ll get it immediately. No hesitation.”
Silence fell.
Claire lowered her gaze.
She nodded slowly.
“I know.”
Her voice was soft. Almost a whisper.
“I know you did everything.”
It was not an empty response.
She was grateful.
Truly. But it changed nothing. She clenched her jaw and looked away.
“I just…” she trailed off, as if unable to find the right words.
Chris did not push.
He knew her well enough to recognize when to give her space.
He started walking again, and after a moment, she joined him.
This time, they walked closer.
“That was your first time outside the palace.” Chris said after a while.
“I know.”
“And?”
Claire exhaled quietly.
“And nothing happened.”
She paused for a moment.
“And I think that’s the worst part.”
Chris frowned slightly.
“What do you mean?”
Claire let out a short laugh, devoid of humor.
“I thought… I don’t know. That I’d feel something. That I’d prove to myself everything was back to normal.”
She looked ahead.
“But instead…” she stopped. “I sat there and looked at him, and I had only one thought.”
Chris remained silent.
“That it could have been me.”
The silence that followed was heavy.
Chris did not try to deny it.
Because it was true.
“And that it should have been me.” she added more quietly.
“No.” he said immediately.
Firm.
Claire looked at him.
“Don’t say that.”
“But it’s true.”
“No.” he repeated. “It’s not your fault.”
“I was there.”
“You were the target.” he corrected. “That’s a difference.”
Claire looked away. She did not respond. She was not convinced.
Chris sighed quietly but did not push further. He knew he would not win this conversation now. Maybe not ever.
Instead, he picked up his pace slightly.
“We’re almost there.”
Claire frowned.
“Where exactly are we going?”
Chris looked ahead.
“To my office.”
“And this important matter.”
A brief pause.
“You’ll see.”
It was not reassuring. Quite the opposite. They reached the door to his office sooner than she expected.
Chris paused in front of it for a moment.
As if he wanted to say something more.
But in the end, he simply opened it.
Claire stepped inside first.
And then she saw him.
A man sat in one of the chairs across from Chris’s desk. Leaning slightly forward, elbows resting on his knees. He looked as though he had been waiting for some time.
At the sound of the door opening, he lifted his gaze.
Their eyes met. Maybe for a second. Maybe less. But it was enough.
Claire immediately felt that something was off.
She could not name it yet. It was more instinct than logic. The way he looked at her, attentive, but not intrusive. As if assessing the situation, not her.
And then…
He looked away. Just like that. As if he did not want to impose. Or as if he had already seen enough.
Claire frowned slightly.
She said nothing.
She walked further into the room, feeling the weight of that brief, strangely significant exchange.
The door closed softly behind her.
The door shut behind Claire almost soundlessly, but the tension in the room thickened instantly.
Chris entered after her, stopping near the desk. For a moment, he said nothing. As if allowing the moment to settle. As if giving Claire space to process what she had just seen.
And she stood there.
Still.
Her gaze fixed somewhere ahead, though she was not really looking at anything. She felt the man’s presence. She felt it too well. She did not need to look at him to know he was still there. Calm. Quiet. Observing.
It irritated her.
No. It unsettled her.
Chris shifted slightly, standing closer to the desk.
“Claire.” he began.
Only then did she pull herself from her thoughts and look at him. The weight of their earlier conversation was still in her eyes. And something else. Something more fragile.
“This is Leon Kennedy.”
A brief pause.
The name lingered in the air.
Claire slowly shifted her gaze to the man who had been sitting before. Now he was standing. Straight, but not rigid. Attentive, but not imposing.
Leon gave a slight nod.
“Your Highness.”
His voice was calm. Low. Controlled.
Without emotion.
That struck her the most. The absence of emotion.
Claire did not respond immediately. She studied him for a moment. Briefly. As if trying to find something specific. Anything.
But nothing fit.
Nothing.
Chris spoke again before she could.
“From today, Leon will be responsible for your safety.”
Silence.
One second. Two. And then…
Something in her cracked.
It was not sudden. Not loud.
It was a quiet, deep fracture that had been building since the moment she entered the room.
Since just moments ago, when they had been talking about Steve.
About the man still fighting for his life.
About the man she had left in a hospital bed.
And now…
“No.”
The word came out quietly.
But it was firm.
Chris frowned slightly.
“Claire—”
“No.”
Louder this time.
Clearer.
Her gaze sharpened.
“No.”
Silence fell.
Leon did not move even a centimeter.
Chris took a step toward her.
“Listen to me—”
“We were talking about him.” she cut in suddenly.
Her voice trembled.
Not from anger.
From emotions she could no longer hold back.
“Just now.” she added, looking straight at him. “We were talking about Steve.”
Chris stopped.
Claire stepped forward.
“That he’s in a coma.” she continued. “That nothing is changing. That he may never wake up.”
Her breathing quickened.
“And you…” she paused, as if she could hardly believe what she was saying. “And you bring someone in here and tell me he’s my new bodyguard?”
Her voice rose.
“Just like that?”
Chris clenched his jaw slightly.
“It’s not just like that.”
“Really?” she shot back sharply.
Her eyes glistened.
“Because that’s exactly what it looks like to me.”
Silence settled over the room again. Heavy. Uncomfortable.
Claire turned away abruptly, as if she could not bear to look at her brother any longer.
“No one replaces him.” she said more quietly.
This sentence was different. There was no anger in it. There was pain. Real. Raw.
Chris opened his mouth, but for a moment, no words came.
“Claire…”
“I don’t want anyone else.”
She said it more calmly, but that only made it stronger.
“Not now.”
“It’s not about what you want.” Chris replied more firmly.
Claire turned back immediately.
“Seriously?”
A bitter laugh slipped into her voice.
“Because somehow it never is.”
Chris looked at her sharply.
“It’s about your safety.”
“I was outside the palace today and nothing happened!”
“And you’re lucky that’s all it was.”
“I don’t need a babysitter!”
“He’s not a babysitter.”
“He looks like one.”
The words came too fast. Too sharp. Too… unnecessary.
The silence that followed was heavier than all the previous ones.
Claire realized it instantly. But it was too late. She did not look at Leon. She did not want to.
Chris inhaled slowly.
“That’s a man whose job is to keep you alive.”
His voice was cold.
Controlled.
“And I don’t care whether you like it.”
Claire clenched her hands.
“I care.”
“This is not a negotiation.”
“For me it is.”
Their gazes collided.
Hard. Unyielding. For a moment, neither spoke. It was familiar. Old.
Their way of communicating when neither was willing to back down. But this time it was different. Because the stakes were different.
Claire suddenly looked away.
As if something inside her gave way.
“No.” she repeated quietly.
And before Chris could react—
She turned and headed for the door.
Fast.
Decisive.
“Claire—”
She did not stop.
The door flew open, hitting the wall lightly.
And then—
She was gone.
Her footsteps echoed down the corridor. Fast. Uneven. As if she were running from something.
Chris remained still for a fraction of a second. He closed his eyes briefly. As if counting to three.
Or stopping himself from saying something he would regret.
Then he opened them again. Looked at Leon.
It was one look. Enough. No words. No spoken orders.
Leon understood.
He always did.
He gave a slight nod. And moved. No rush. But decisively.
The door closed softly behind him. The corridor was empty.
Claire was already further ahead.
Leon followed, only quickening his pace after a few seconds. He did not run. He made no noise. He moved smoothly, almost silently.
He spotted her at the next turn.
She was walking fast. Too fast.
Her shoulders were tense, her hands clenched into fists.
She did not look back.
She did not slow down.
Leon closed the distance.
“Your Highness.”
She did not stop.
As if she did not hear him.
Or did not want to.
“Your Highness.” he repeated, closer this time.
No response.
He moved closer still.
“Your Highness, stop.”
“No.”
She threw it over her shoulder.
Short. Sharp. But her voice carried something else now. It was no longer just anger.
It was something deeper.
Leon did not stop walking.
“This isn’t safe.”
“Nothing is safe.” she replied immediately.
She did not slow.
“That’s exactly why—”
“I don’t need you.”
She stopped abruptly.
So suddenly that Leon had to take half a step back to avoid walking into her.
She turned.
Their eyes met.
For the first time, truly. Without distance. Without filters. Her eyes were red. Not from crying. From holding it back.
“You heard what I said.” she added more quietly. “I don’t need you.”
Leon looked at her for a moment.
Calm.
Unmoved.
“That doesn’t matter.”
Those four words were a spark.
“Of course it matters!”
“Not to me.”
“Great.” she shot back bitterly. “Then go take care of someone who needs you.”
She turned again.
And walked off. Faster this time.
Leon did not respond. He simply followed. He did not let go. He had no intention of doing so.
Claire reached the door to her room almost at a run.
She threw it open. Stepped inside. And slammed it shut behind her. Loud. The echo spread through the corridor.
Leon stopped just in front of it. For a moment, he stood in silence. Looking at the closed door. As if assessing the situation. As if considering his next move.
And then…
He stayed there.
Still.
On guard.