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1
Late at night, Felt approached the door to Reinhard's room. The two of them needed to talk, and there was no point to postpone it any further. In fact, she'd much rather have this conversation straight away, no delays whatsoever. But it so happened that she really needed a new change of clothes, and the Dragon only knew that Reinhard could use a bath to wash off the blood.
Now that she was about to face her knight, there was no reason to hold back. So why was her body telling her to be anywhere but there? The fight-or-flight response made no sense, and it only frustrated her.
Why do I keep double-guessing my decision? Felt thought, irritated. So I made a fool out of myself. Big deal! Get a grip on yourself, me.
She patted her thighs, straightened her back, and knocked. While waiting for the door to open, her thoughts involuntarily filled with the events of earlier that day.
2
Felt and the rest walked down the empty streets of the ruined city. Priestella took heavy damage from the fights, from the buildings, to the roads and bridges. The scenery was gloomy and creepy, with no other people out in the open besides their group. It was quiet, too, and so it seemed that the battles indeed have ended, hopefully with no losses.
Beatrice was in the lead. As the only person to know the exact location of the temporary headquarters, she was showing them the way. Gaston and the White Dragon's Scales were on the rears, carrying Otto and the other injured. In the middle, Felt walked deep in thoughts, still shaken after her unexpected encounter with a Sin Archbishop.
"Betty would appreciate it if you worried in a less ostentatious way, in fact."
She was startled out of her musings by Beatrice, who eyed her skeptically.
"You ain't gonna project your own feelings onto me. I'm not worried one bit, 'kay? If anythin', I'm super pissed. I hate these cult bastards!"
Despite Felt's sudden outburst, Beatrice remained composed.
"Me? Worried? Hmph!" said the Great Spirit, turning her head away. "Betty has full faith in her contractor. If he’s saying the battle’s over, then it’s over. There’s nothing more to it."
Frowning, the other girl had no choice but to nod at her strong convictions. This left only one other thing...
"I wonder what's keepin' stupid Reinhard –"
– She never got to finish this sentence. Out of nowhere, a dark shadow descended from the sky and landed right before her with a loud Thump!
"Bwah!"
The girl exclaimed, stepping back out of shock. She nearly dropped the witch's staff, too. This earned her a loud Watch it! from Beatrice, who momentarily snagged it away. The spirit paid no attention to the young man with flaming red hair and huge blood strains that covered his tattered clothes.
"Lady Felt, I –"
"There you are! Thanks for givin' me a heart attack, asshole!"
Crimson eyes met blue, as Reinhard's mistress yelled out all of today's emotions she gathered up inside.
"Don't sneak up on people like that. We should get ya a bell around the neck or whatever.”
It wasn't that she was seriously scolding him, more like keeping him from lecturing her in this annoyingly frustrating way that only he could pull off.
“Never mind that now. Hey, get your stupid face away from –"
With her hand on his chest, she pushed him away, so that his face wasn't all that she could see. Only then –
"–––!"
Her expression froze in a mix of shock and disbelief. She looked at her hand that had touched Reinhard. On it, there were red smudges that smelled like iron.
Belatedly, the girl realized that this annoying feeling she mistook for anger was dread. The Sword Saint was the strongest there was, almost invincible. She never saw him bleed.
And this was hell of a lot of blood...
"Holy shit! Oh shit, oh shit –" the girl repeated without knowing. Her fingers worked to uncover the cut across her knight's torso. "Beatrice! Quick, heal him, what are ya waitin' for–?"
"– Lady Felt!"
Reinhard's raised voice and cold hands lightly grasping her wrists reached through Felt's panic. She looked up into his face, which was uncharacteristically full of worry.
"I'm unharmed. I deeply apologize for the distress I caused you – and thank you for your concern."
Dumbfounded, Felt forgot to shout back that she'd never waste time worrying about him. As he loosened his grip, she touched the undamaged skin on his bare chest. She rubbed it up and down, just to make sure. He was right – there was no wound.
"How on–?"
"Betty has no time for your antics, in fact," said Beatrice hurriedly, pulling on Felt's scarf. "We need to keep going. Are you two coming or not, I wonder?"
The girl opened her mouth to answer, but Reinhard beat her to it.
"Understood. My apologies. Please lead the way, Great Spirit."
"Of course," replied Beatrice with her head held high. As she walked away, she murmured, "And Betty’s the one projecting, I suppose. Honestly..."
Felt ignored her.
And so, the walk to the headquarters continued. Reinhard was in-step with his mistress, who glanced at him skeptically.
"You sure you're alright? You look like hell."
There might be nothing wrong with him physically, but mentally... Felt was not so sure. Her gut feeling only deepened when Reinhard nodded and his mask slipped, revealing deep cracks underneath. This time, his polite smile didn’t creep her out – it terrified her.
3
Felt knocked again, louder. Still, there was no answer. She barged in regardless, slamming the door open and then shut. This was her payback for Reinhard walking in on her repeatedly despite her objections.
"Didn't ya hear me knockin’?” she asked the quiet room, her arms defiantly resting on her hips. “What if I thought you're sitting in here naked and just left you alone?"
In his bed, spread on his back, Reinhard lied motionlessly on top of the covers. His hair was wet from the bath, and he changed into his night clothes. Other than that, he barely acknowledged his visitor, his sky blue eyes glued to the ceiling.
A moment later, when ignoring his mistress for any longer would be tactless, he finally spoke.
"Apologies, My Lady. Today's battles left me exhausted. Can we please reschedule for tomorrow?"
With a raised brow, Felt regarded his offer. In general, she had nothing against it. She could understand being tired after a hard battle. She was exhausted herself, and she barely fought at all. However, the hollow look on her knight’s face – the fact that he still didn’t get up, didn’t even look at her – this all told her that it was better not to listen. Because he had no idea what it was he needed right now.
So, she told him, "Hell no. I ain't goin' anywhere. And stop with this strange attitude of yours! It creeps me out even more than usual."
There was no tricking her. Felt knew Reinhard too well after spending the past year studying him. Ever since they’d met, she used her free time to learn his patterns, outsmart him, and then try to get along. Her hidden objective was to rid his stupid face of that empty expression he wore like second skin. Only now, causing him to make just any face wouldn’t do. She didn’t want him to scowl in pain nor be sad – but to see how handsome his face looked with a genuine smile.
“As My Lady wishes –“ Reinhard shifted his position to sit up but stopped when Felt gestured for him not to bother. “I express deep shame due to my shortcomings as your knight. I allowed you to be captured, and then I wasn’t there at your side while you were in danger. Please accept my humble apolo–”
“Don’t you dare apologize!” Felt stomped her foot. “I’m fine, you’re fine. Ain’t no need for your regrets.”
Did he really think that’s what I’m here for?
“On another note, I have repeatedly asked you to be more careful. I admit, I should have specified that my meaning was for you to remain hidden in the bunker. Nevertheless, I believe it be common sense to stay in a safe zone when the city is under attack.”
Felt toughed her forehead, as if Reinhard’s lecture was causing her a headache.
"You just can't let it go, can ya? Look, I ain’t gonna be sorry that I got involved. You can't just lock me away and expect me to stay put. If you're fighting, I'm fighting, too. The sooner you accept that, the better."
After what happened today, she felt it necessary to add,
"Although, I must say I can see where you're comin' from, askin' me to be careful. And I will, yeah? Jus' promise me you'll be careful, too."
His eyes widened in shock. While there had been some lapses in his lady’s logic, Reinhard couldn’t deny a partial truce when it was so willingly given.
"Agreed. Yet another compromise. You have my promise. Now, My Lady, if you’ll excuse me..."
He gestured for the door, asking her to leave. But Felt wasn’t having it.
"Oh, c'mon! You don't really wanna me to leave. Besides, I meant what I said – I'm not leaving you alone. Now, talk."
She sat down cross-legged at the head of the bed, waiting.
Sighing quietly under her expectant gaze, Reinhard said, “As a knight, I would never burden my mistress with my personal matters.”
He closed his eyes to hide his conflicting emotions. This didn’t sit well with Felt.
“The Great Sword Saint would never, no doubt ‘bout that...” she agreed instantly, and then added, “How ‘bout Reinhard?”
His blue eyes widened in shock when he finally looked at her. However, he ignored her question and stated with a bitter smile,
“Of course, it’s only natural that you’d wish to hear about the battles I partook in.”
It wasn't exactly what Felt had in mind. This blockhead must have realized it, right? But, instead of criticizing him, she said,
"Um, suuure... Why not? Gotta start somewhere, I guess."
And so, he told her about the fight with Regulus, constantly praising Subaru and Emilia for their accomplishments. To which Felt told him, enraged, "There's no need to be modest. Our camp needs this win. Be proud!" Aside from that, she also noticed that Reinhard's voice got weird when he mentioned Subaru’s declaration to marry Emilia. Huh. That’d be somethin’ to dig up later.
"Alas, I was then needed elsewhere," the knight went on, and his tone shifted again. This time, Felt was sure that they were getting to the gist of his foul mood. Whatever happened out there, this was what caused Reinhard's depressed state.
Once again, he seemed reluctant to talk. Felt waited him out. Finally –
"I joined grandfather in another battle. When I arrived, he was fighting one of the masked soldiers. He was about to win. But then, my father appeared."
Not this scumbag again! thought Felt with passion. Her reaction was reasonable for someone who'd been held at sword point by this sorry excuse of a man, who manipulated Reinhard into skipping the battle to save his sorry ass. She had a lot to say about him but kept her mouth shut – for the sake of her knight.
"Grandfather got distracted. It cost him the fight. He got gravely wounded. The soldier approached father, was about to give the decisive blow. And then, I... I did what I had to do. I cut down the enemy. The fight ended."
Felt stared back at him, stunned. She blinked in confusion.
"And what, tha's it? This can't be the end of the story, right? You have this frustrating tendency to keep the best part for last. Don't keep me hangin'."
Reinhard took a deep breath. He visibly swallowed and then looked at Felt with those big eyes that begged her not to hate him. Did this mean that he hated himself?
"That soldier I cut down?” he said slowly – hesitantly. “...It was my grandmother."
"Huh?!"
Felt had no words. She must have misunderstood him, right? Because there’s no way –
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Stop right there. Whaddaya mean, your grandmother? Ain't she dead? That's what this whole whale thing was about, no? So that your grampa could avenge her?"
"Indeed. You remember correctly, My Lady. However, due to some unfortunate circumstances, her corpse was reanimated. She was the masked soldier my grandfather fought."
This made no sense. The dead walking among the living? What a sick joke!
"Holy shit! Is that how your dad got involved? He recognized her?" She caught up with what Reinhard's saying without him saying it.
"...I believe so, yes."
Felt had nothing to add. She hated that drunken scumbag – she had every right to. However, even she had enough sympathy to realize that encountering a dead family member must have been devastating for all three Astrea men.
"Okay, so then what? You stop this corpse... thing from hurting any of ‘em?" asked Felt, pointedly refusing to refer to this abnormality as Reinhard's gramma.
"Indeed, I have," replied Reinhard. "Alas, father didn't seem it that way. He shouted that I killed my grandmother for the second time."
"That fucking bastard!" Felt yelled, forgetting all about her sympathy for the man. Her knight winced. "...What?! He's family, so you love him – and that’s how ya gotta no balls to shout this to his face. So I just gotta be mad for the two of us."
Felt's passionate outburst brought a faint smile to Reinhard's face. However, it looked more like a grimace.
And then, just when he thought she’d overlook his slip of the tongue –
"Hmm, the second time, ya say? When's the first? She died when you were a little brat, right?"
"You are correct,” said the knight, his eyes once again closed. “I was five when I received the blessing of the Sword Saint. Grandmother fought against the White Whale at that time. She died because of me."
She’s reminded of how he was talking about his mother, because he now spoke about his past in the same detached voice. The most awful of truths, he stated them with no emotions, like he recited someone else's words. Come to think of it, he most probably did. Were these the words that he'd been hearing for the last what, fifteen years?!
The girl’s blood froze at the thought. She couldn’t begin to imagine how he must have felt. Too overwhelmed to ask follow up questions, the more shocked she was when Reinhard continued his story. Now that he started, he was unable to stop.
"I remember her funeral. It was cloudy that day. I woke up early to collect Diana flowers, her favorite kind. I thought she'd like to have them. When I went to her grave to place them there. I only wished to comfort grandfather. I knew how much he loved her. But then, he grabbed me by the shoulders. He shouted, how could you kill her, you monster?”
Felt’s lips frowned. Now she could see why he always said it hurt him whenever she called him that name. She’d have to watch her tongue – but not enough for him to notice.
“Father protected me,” stated Reinhard’s hollow voice. “We went home. When we were alone, he asked me if I wished I'd be the next Sword Saint. I said yes – and that's when he said that grandfather was right – that I am a monster..."
A lie repeated enough times becomes the truth, huh? But it didn't matter to Felt. She had her own strong convictions.
"Don't say something so horrible with a straight look on your face! Even if you believe it's true – that you wished hard enough to make it happen... – So what? You were but a little brat! A small kiddo who couldn't know better!”
As her voice raised in frustration, Reinhard’s pleading eyes bore into her own. Has no one ever told him that? she briefly wondered. The strong blaming the weak for their problems! Nothing pisses me off more.
“If anything, it's the adult's fault for traumatizing a grieving child. You did nothing wrong. You didn’t kill your gramma. No matter what this stupid family of yours tells you, I ain’t gonna take them seriously. You hear me–? ...Reinhard, are you cryin’?!"
His eyes wide, the knight rose his hand to touch his cheek. To his surprise, they were wet. He'd been crying and had no idea. But now that he knew, the corners of his lips went down as his mouth trembled. He didn't look like the Great Sword Saint anymore. At this moment, he was a five-year-old Reinhard, deep in grief, with responsibility way too heavy for his little shoulders.
For the first time, Felt felt sorry for him. Truly, deeply sorry. None of his majestic speeches had moved her as much as this sad, pathetic story of a broken family.
“–––!”
Before any of them knew, she put her arms around his neck and hugged him to her chest. With her sitting cross-legged and him lying down, they ended up in a rather awkward position, with his head resting on her lap.
Cheeks flushed in embarrassment, she loosened her grip, ready for another lecture on how a lady shouldn’t cuddle young men in their beds. The more it took her aback when Reinhard’s arms circled her torso as he buried his head in her stomach and let out a silent sob.
When did I grow to care for this idiot so much? Felt wondered. Well, it's not like there's anything strange about it. Just like Old Man Rom said: it's only natural for a royal candidate to care for her knight.
She decided to let it slide this time, trusting he wouldn't speak of it to anyone.
4
As Felt lightly stroke his hair, Reinhard slowly relaxed in her arms. His sobs died out, his breathing evened out. His grip on her torso loosened, but not enough not to muffle his voice.
“Lady Felt...?”
“Eh?”
“It’s very unladylike to carry a conversation with someone’s head on your lap.”
This comment earned him a slap on the shoulder that would make many men wince.
“Oh, shaddup!” she retorted with a click of her tongue. “With that pathetic face you're making right now, me not seein’ it is an improvement! – You’re making a fuss like we never hugged.”
Considering that, during her failed escape attempts, Felt ended up in his arms more times than she cared to count – she truly couldn’t grasp why he’s drawing attention to it right now.
“Forgive my inability to explain myself properly, but this feels... different, somehow.”
“–––?”
When Reinhard’s hands lowered, his fingers brushed the sensitive skin on her back, causing her to shiver. Even Felt got self-conscious when he acted out-of-character. Bright red, she shouted her retort.
“Y'know, I could tell you how un-knightly-like it is to cling to your mistress like that,” she stated with a smirk, as she pointed her finger at him. “But I ain't gonna – so you owe me one. Remember that!”
If there was one score she didn’t mind him keeping, it’s this. The more he owed her, the less boring shit he’d be able to throw at her. She’d use this favors as bargaining chips to ditch dresses or reading.
“Lady Felt, I...” Reinhard’s muscles tensed. “No, it’s nothing.”
Whatever he wanted to talk about must be better than this. His prolonged silence creeped Felt out much more than the most uncomfortable of words. There was only one way she knew how to deal with that.
“If you have something to say, just say it!”
They’d been through this was too many times. Pushing this dude to openly express his honest thoughts was a never-ending endeavor.
“...Thank you,” he said, deeply moved. “Your assistance helped me immeasurably. I am twice in your debt. However, I couldn’t possibly ask for more of your precious attention. You’ve offered more than enough.”
“I'm the one who's gonna say when we're done,” Felt replied. “Was this up to you, you'd be sulking all alone and miserable in this dark, empty room. So stop pissing me off! I didn’t do this for your thanks.”
“Nevertheless...”
“...Yeah, I know.”
She felt him chuckle against her body, so she pinched his earlobe.
They stayed like this, together, no talking necessary. Before Felt realized, Reinhard’s arms fell limply to her sides, his breathing slowing down. He fell asleep with her fingers entangled in his hair, mindlessly caressing his skin. Only then, she looked down at his face. It finally seemed at peace.
Right, so now what?
With a frown, Felt considered her options. It's not like she had places to be. At least, with her there, this idiot wouldn't be taken advantage of. Hadn't she ordered him to rest, he'd be out there in the city, helping to rebuild it. In his condition? No way she was gonna allow that to happen!
And so, she stole Reinhard’s pillow – it wasn’t like he was needing it, anyway – and lied down next to him without disturbing him.
As Felt drifted asleep, she thought of Subaru and the rest, hoping they find the Sage and the cure for the Sleeping Beauty disease. She promised herself to wake up her knight’s mother, after all.