12 - REPUTATION

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Great Tree Moon, 1188

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Felix

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"It can't be him," I reply. "He died in prison."

"He did. But he had a son. He was a little older than us at the time. When the Morcliff house fell into disgrace, he was shipped off to some distant relative in the Alliance, I think," Sylvain says.

"Why would it be the son? You only avenge people you love. You think that raping, murdering pig would have been the kind of father to inspire love and respect in his child? There's no way that kid would grieve his father's death after he learned what he had been doing for years. And if he somehow found out we were involved in the investigation, he is likely grateful to us."

"We destroyed Francis Morcliff's life, his entire reputation, fortune and legacy to the point where he hung himself in prison rather than deal with the shame," Sylvain insists. "And his son fits the idea we have of this killer."

"Dimitri made them keep our names out of the investigation reports. He would have no way of knowing it was us."

Sylvain hesitates, then says, "Sona knew who we were."

"Was she close with the son?"

"I don't know. She mentioned him a few times, I think. It's hard to remember. It was so long ago. But she was… well, she had very similar morals to me."

"You're saying she slept around?"

"I'm saying it's not out of the question she could have been friendly with him."

"Even if this long-shot theory of yours is true, it doesn't explain the time gap. Even waiting two years from the war to now doesn't make sense. Waiting eight?"

"Just keep his name on the list until we rule it out. I think he is our best guess."

"Fine," I say.

I set the list to the side with a sigh and rub my forehead, my relatively sleepless night starting to catch up with me in the form of a pounding headache and a shaky feeling in my body.

Sylvain notices and gets up and pours me a glass of water from the pitcher on the table. He brings it back and hands it to me. "Sleep for a few hours. We can set out for the woods at eight."

"Every hour we waste sitting here gives him time to kill again," I say. "We should try to go now."

"You're the one who told me we need to keep our strength up. Take your own advice."

"Should we tell Agust of our suspicions?"

"If we can find a shred of evidence to support them. For now, we have nothing but speculation. And I think telling him that we used to moonlight as vigilantes as kids won't really help our case."

I nod and lie down, closing my eyes and willing the headache to go away. Sylvain settles down behind me, wrapping his arm around my waist and leaning his forehead against the back of my neck. The soft feeling of his breath on my skin and the warmth of his body next to mine soothes me enough that I can relax.

I don't manage to sleep, but resting restores at least a little of my energy and by the time the clock strikes seven, I feel alive enough to face the night that lies before us.

Sylvain fell asleep a couple hours ago and I carefully extricate myself from his arms. I let him sleep a little while longer while I get ready. When it comes time to wake him, I hesitate, lying down next to him. I reach out and tuck a strand of hair out of his eyes, brushing my fingertips across his cheek.

Goddamn that stupid handsome face I have never been able to get out of my mind. I tried so hard to make myself want someone else, but I always failed. I knew long ago that I was stuck with him for good even though I thought I would never have him in the way I wanted.

"Why is it exactly that you love me?"

I know I should have given him a serious answer, but how the hell am I supposed to put into words feelings that have been building all these years? It would be easy to explain why I am attracted to him - his tall, muscular body, his charming smile and sparkling eyes. Everyone is attracted to Sylvain. I'm sure he has heard a thousand times how handsome he is. He doesn't need some awkward attempt on my part to express it.

But love?

He didn't just ask me to goad me into saying something sappy for his amusement. No, I heard the uncertainty in his voice, even if he was trying to hide it.

He truly doesn't understand. And if I am ever going to settle his doubts, I have to find a way to tell him. He has lived his whole life with distrust towards any one who says they love him. I'll be damned if I let him feel that same insecurity around me.

I decide to think it over and gather my courage so I can tell him sometime. But the idea of riding into those cursed woods soon hits me and I realize that I shouldn't put this off.

What was that thing people would say during the war? "Don't leave anything for a tomorrow that you might not have."

I would always give that saying a contemptuous snort and reply that I had no intention of dying tomorrow in battle. But I also never had important things like this that I fear not having a chance to do.

No. I have to get this over with right now so it isn't lingering around in the back of my head distracting me tonight when I need to be sharp and focused.

"Sylvain," I say, jostling his shoulder.

"What?" he mumbles, blinking his eyes open.

"Wake up. We need to talk."

"Okay." He sits up and rubs his eyes with a yawn. "What is it?"

Fuck. I didn't plan what to say. I just went for it. Goddamnit, Felix, you idiot!

"Listen and don't interrupt and for the love of god, don't make fun of me," I say. "If you make some stupid joke about this, I'm going to revoke everything I'm about to say and leave you. Understood?"

He looks at me in consternation and nods.

"You asked me why I loved you yesterday and I didn't answer you. Well, here you go," I continue, boldly forging through my self-consciousness and muddled thoughts. "When we were kids, I loved you because you spent time with me. You poked fun at me, but you never made fun of me. You just made me feel happy. Then when we were teenagers and Duscur happened, I lashed out at everyone and yet you didn't leave. You know that event changed me permanently. The others kept pressuring me to go back to who I was before, but you just took it in stride and loved me all the same. You and I couldn't be more different, but somehow I felt like we understood each other."

I pause for a second, knowing this whole speech is already five times longer than I wanted it to be and yet I am nowhere near done. I've kept my eyes trained down on the sheets, avoiding Sylvain's gaze, but now I glance up at him and the serious look on his face encourages me to keep going. He isn't laughing at me. He is just listening.

"When I came back from being a squire and met up with you at Garreg Mach after being apart for a while, I felt like I was meeting an entirely new person. I don't know…. you just- you grew up in that interim and I did too. The realization that I was attracted to you felt like I'd been kicked in the face by a horse. Of course it seemed ridiculous to wonder if you felt the same. I knew I wasn't a particularly lovable person. I was just grateful that you still wanted to be friends with me. I did despise you for being even more of a frivolous idiot than you used to be, but when the war started and you started acting like a man, I realized that…"

When I trail off, Sylvain waits for a few moments then says in a voice thick with emotion, "Realized what?"

"That I could rely on you," I say. "So that's it. That's why I love you. You are the one person I can trust to never give up on me, even when I'm a complete ass. There are plenty of people who are stronger than you, but none whose kindness and loyalty and courageous fucking stupidity I trust more."

Sylvain nods, at a loss for words for once. I watch him anxiously until he gathers his thoughts and speaks.

"I'm glad you told me," he says. "It didn't make much sense to me that you would love me. I've always admired you - hero-worshipped you a little too, I think. But I didn't think you had much respect for me."

"I have a lot of respect for you," I answer.

He smiles and leans forward to slip his hand behind my neck and kiss me. "Thank you," he whispers against my lips. "You have no idea how much that means to me."

I pull away and get out of bed. "Well, I'm glad I didn't completely fuck it up. That is the only time I am spouting off emotional drivel like that. It will have to last you for the rest of your life."

"I'll need a repeat once a year to stay wildly in love with you," he says.

"Every ten."

"Every three."

"Every five."

"Deal. But I expect there to be candles and roses next time and for you to at least brush your hair or something first."

"Fuck you."

"I expect that too," he says.

He climbs out of bed and the smile fades from his face. After he gets dressed, he walks over to me and says, "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes. You?"

He nods. "Your words lifted my spirits. I feel ready to face anything now. So let's go."

As embarrassing as it was to have to say all that romantic bullshit, I am glad I did. I am a fairly predictable person. It's not often I get to surprise Sylvain. And his strong, determined expression is such a change from how distraught and hopeless he looked this morning. It was good that I chose to tell him all that right now even if it was uncomfortable.

We strap on our weapons and head for the door but the sound of footsteps in the hall makes me stop.

"Someone's coming. Soldiers. I hear armor," I whisper.

"Take off your weapons and cloak. Hurry!" Sylvain says, quicking stowing his spear under the bed and grabbing my sword sheath that I throw him.

I leave the knife strapped to my thigh and shift my jacket to cover it.

"They must just be here to report to us," I say.

"With an armed guard?" he says. "What do we do if they try to arrest us? Run?"

But I don't have time to decide before a sharp knock sounds on the door.

Sylvain comes over to my side and I open the door, swallowing back my nervousness and forcing my expression to be blank and impassive.

Standing in the hall are three police officers and five soldiers led by Inspector Agust.

"Do you have a report for me, Inspector?" I ask.

He nods at two of the soldiers and they step forward, swords drawn but lowered.

"I have a warrant for your arrest, Lord Fraldarius, and for yours, Margrave Gautier," he says.

"On what grounds?" I ask.

"Witness testimonies and enough evidence to detain you by law for questioning," he says. "I'm sorry, my lord. I trust you shall comply."

Sylvain glances at me questioningly but I give him a look that says 'no.'

I am not going to kill my own citizens. I can break out of a jail if necessary, but I won't cut down people in my employ to pointlessly try to flee.

"We will comply, but I expect an explanation, Inspector. You don't have time to waste corralling the wrong suspects with a murderer on the loose," I answer.

The police officers hold out metal handcuffs but I shake my head.

"We will go willingly," I say.

"I'm afraid I must insist, Lord Fraldarius. You are a dangerous man and my respect for your skill necessitates I take no chances," Agust says.

I stiffen furiously but allow them to cuff my wrists behind my back. Sylvain does the same, although his jaw is clenched and I can see the anger and fear behind his calm expression.

My servants are gathered nervously watching as we are led away by the officers. To my relief some of them try to protest that Agust is making a mistake, but others look less convinced.

It is a tense and humiliating walk to the police precinct and my mind races with theories as to how Agust could have any evidence worth this daring arrest. It is no easy thing to accuse his duke of such horrific crimes. He would not be doing so simply because Sylvain and I were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Whoever is behind this must have moved on from hiring killers to hiring witnesses. We either figure this out from a jail cell or break out and chase our farfetched theories until we bring the real killer in alive. We can't afford to drag in another dead body and claim it was the killer.

When finally we are free of the watching eyes of citizens and into the precinct, we are escorted to a cell in the back of the building. But Agust does not remove our cuffs.

"Take these things off. We are here for questioning not imprisonment," I demand.

"No chances," Agust says again. "My apologies."

He closes the cell door behind him.

"Come back here!" I order. "Ask your questions! Don't leave us here to rot like common criminals."

"You will be here for some time, my lord. Questions will come later," he says as he walks away.

Once we are alone, Sylvain's composure finally slips. "Fuck!" he curses, struggling against the cuffs. "We don't have time for this!"

I sit down on the bench and try to restrain my anger enough to speak quietly. "We do. He's not going to murder someone while we are sitting here with the most airtight alibi possible. As long as we are in here, people are safe."

"Does it matter?" Sylvain says. "Even once we are exonerated, there will still be the fact that there was ever enough suspicion in the first place to arrest us! Half the town saw us hauled in here. That kind of talk isn't going to die down easily. And it will spread. Think about this, Felix! We are the two most powerful houses. If this gets any more serious, it could destabilize all of Faerghus."

"I understand that!" I snap. "But what would you have had me do? Kill my own officers?"

He sits down next to me and sighs. "I know. You made the right decision. I just…"

"We're fucked."

"Indeed."