As Inoue sat in her cell, the weight of her actions pressed down on her. The cold stone walls felt as confining as her thoughts. She couldn't help but laugh bitterly to herself, her voice echoing in the emptiness.
"What an idiot…" she muttered. "You really thought you could just break into the Knights' headquarters and not face any repercussions?"
The crackle of torches in the dimly lit hallway served as a harsh reminder of her misjudgment. She shook her head, the gravity of her situation settling in deeper.
A familiar voice interrupted her brooding. "Open the door. I need to speak with the prisoner."
The heavy metal door creaked open slowly, revealing Reinhardt holding a lantern, his face partially shadowed by the dim light. Behind him stood two guards, their presence adding to the tension.
"You can leave us," Reinhardt said, his tone firm. "I need to speak to her privately."
The door clanged shut behind the departing guards, the sound of iron against stone reverberating through the small chamber. As Reinhardt stepped closer, Inoue found herself unable to meet his eyes. Shame gnawed at her—she had betrayed his trust, and the guilt felt suffocating.
Inoue braced herself, expecting harsh reprimands. Instead, Reinhardt's voice was softer than she expected.
"Your highness," he began, his words almost tentative. "I came to apologize for my roughness back in the shed."
Her heart lurched at the unexpected title. Your highness?
Inoue's throat tightened. She slowly lifted her gaze to meet his. "So... you figured it out," she said, her voice barely a whisper, her pulse quickening.
Reinhardt knelt before her, the flickering lantern light casting deep shadows across his face. "Yes, your majesty. We have been searching for you for so long. I'm certain the king will be overjoyed to know his daughter is alive and well."
His words felt like a blow. The world around her seemed to tilt as she struggled to process the revelation.
Reinhardt continued, his voice steady, as though trying to anchor her in the chaos. "From now on, I will be your personal knight. I will answer any questions you have. A carriage has already been prepared to take you to the royal palace. His majesty is eager to meet with you."
"Wait!" Inoue's voice broke, her mind racing as the weight of the moment threatened to overwhelm her. "I... I don't want to go. What about Guil, Bramble, and Lea? I can't just leave them behind." Her voice cracked, a tremor of desperation breaking through. "Aren't I under arrest? And, Reinhardt... you don't need to kneel. Please, stand up."
Reinhardt let out a small, soft laugh as he rose to his feet, towering above her once more. "As you wish, your highness. And no, you are no longer under arrest. His majesty has granted you a royal pardon."
His face grew more serious as he continued, "Your companions... you shouldn't worry about them right now. The nation is under threat, and we need your help, Inoue. There are matters far more urgent than your arrest."
Inoue blinked, taken aback by the shift in Reinhardt's tone. She had expected scolding or judgment, but now, he spoke with urgency—about something much bigger than herself or her friends.
"What threat?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Can't the king handle it himself? Why do you need me?"
Reinhardt's eyes darkened. "This conversation is better suited for the palace," he said cautiously, his voice low. "We risk being overheard here."
Inoue's hesitation lingered for a moment longer. She sighed, feeling cornered. Her mind swirled with conflicting thoughts—her loyalty to her friends, the newfound revelation of her royal bloodline, and now this unknown threat looming over the nation. After a long pause, she finally nodded.
"Alright," she said, her voice quieter now, resigned. "Let's go."
As they walked out of the cell, the cold air of the corridor hit her like a wave. The weight of her situation felt heavier with each step. The guards escorted her to the courtyard where a carriage awaited. As she approached, she heard a familiar voice shouting her name from a distance.
"Inoue!" It was Guil, struggling as knights restrained him.
Her heart twisted painfully as she turned toward him. He was desperate, trying to fight his way toward the carriage. But before she could speak, Reinhardt placed a firm hand on her shoulder.
"Don't answer him," Reinhardt said quietly. His words carried an unspoken understanding, urging her to choose the harder path.
Inoue swallowed, her throat tight with emotion. She gave a small nod, her face marked with sadness, and turned away, climbing into the carriage without a word. The door shut behind her with a soft thud.
As the carriage rolled forward, silence settled between her and Reinhardt. The road to the palace stretched out before them, but Inoue's thoughts were miles away. She stared out of the window, lost in a whirlwind of emotions.
Reinhardt, sensing the tension, finally broke the silence. "So," he asked gently, "what did you do before becoming an adventurer?"
Inoue didn't respond. Instead, she turned to face him, her expression unreadable. "Earlier, you said you would answer all of my questions, yes?"
"Correct, your highness," he replied, his posture attentive.
Inoue leaned forward slightly, her eyes locking onto his. "Then tell me... who is Maximilian, and how does he relate to Dross and the cult?"
Reinhardt's face grew grim. "Maximilian is a member of the Cult of the Eighth God," he explained, his tone measured. "Their goal is to resurrect a so-called Eighth Deity and bring about the end of the world. We don't know much about him—he's careful, elusive. But our spies in the Empire of Kinah have linked him to an attack on Lucian Ordo's estate a few years ago."
Inoue's heart skipped a beat as she recalled Dross mentioning Lucian Ordo. She opened her mouth to speak, but Reinhardt cut in.
"And yes," he said, anticipating her next question, "it's the same Lucian Dross mentioned. Dross is under custody and being interrogated. As for Kharok... we're using him as a double agent in the criminal underworld. He might be able to provide us with more information about the cult."
Inoue sat back, her thoughts racing. Reinhardt's revelations felt like pieces of a puzzle slowly falling into place, but the picture it formed terrified her. Roman's fate hung in the balance, tangled in a web of power and deceit.
"What about Roman?" Her voice was strained, her eyes pleading. "Is he... is he dead?"
Reinhardt hesitated, his gaze softening with sympathy. "We don't know, your highness. One of Lucian's students was killed in the attack, but... we don't know if it was him. Let's hope it wasn't."
The silence that followed was deafening. Inoue's throat tightened, and for the first time in a long while, she felt truly powerless. The gap between her and Roman seemed to widen with every passing second. A knot of grief and helplessness formed in her chest as the carriage rolled onward, carrying her toward an uncertain future.