AN: We wanted to assure people because it's been awhile since we've updated that we have NOT forgotten this story. Both Crod and I have had unforeseen circumstances occur in our respective personal lives over the last couple months, but rest assured that while updates may be infrequent, we do intend to complete this story. Thank you for being patient and we hope you enjoy the chapter. ~Mickey

Chapter Thirteen: A House Divided

In his entire life, Rod had never borne witness to a situation that deteriorated so fast until this very day. The riots had blossomed into full-blown anarchy. People from all walks of life were now savages doing everything they could to kill each other. From trampling over the fallen, to beating one another with blunt objects, even going so far as using guns to cause the most damage. The targets of their aggression were mostly nobles, and that fact alone forced Rod to lose his hat and parts of his suit. They were too recognizable. Instead, he found himself a large enough raincoat to wear and simply kept his head down.

Dodging the rabble was hard enough as it was, but the one fact that kept his heart pounding in his ears was the knowledge that Kenny was after him. How his brother ever saw something of note in that psychopath was beyond him. Even gods were not above mistakes, and Frieda was living proof of that. If the man managed to corner him, he wouldn't stand a chance.

Then, his mind drifted to Henri, and his vision turned red. How often did he confide in that bastard? How much did he put in him when it seemed like he was his only friend? Henri used him, and Rod fell for it completely. If he was going to die today, he would do it regaining the decency that was stolen from him.

Mind made up, Rod headed in a different direction instead of towards his home. It was time to pay a visit to his former friend.

Having advance knowledge of the riots proved to be quite useful for Henri. He already stockpiled any supplies he would need, and got his affairs in order. His money was sent to Kenny as not only payment for his services, but to use when the black market reared its ugly head. His quaint house had been barricaded from the doors to the windows. Nobody was going to get in without his say-so. All that was left was to celebrate with a fine glass of wine with his aging colleague in the library.

"A toast to new beginnings, old man," Henri declared with a smile, handing him a glass.

Emerich accepted it, lifting it wordlessly before taking a long swallow. He made a noise of acknowledgement at the flavor before speaking. "I can't help but wonder what's going to be left to create these 'new beginnings' of yours when all this dies down."

He eased back in his comfortable chair before responding. "Well, it won't be with the Reiss family in charge, that's for sure. Rod's little empire was fun while it lasted, but he stretched himself too thin." He gave a snort at that. "Actually, if he did, he probably would be in better shape than he is now."

Emerich cracked a small smile. "Couldn't we all use a little of that. With the Reiss family displaced, who's going to step up? You already thought that through before all of this began?"

"Darius Zackley. Emerich, these riots will have to die down eventually, and once they do, the great Commander-in-Chief will swoop in and save the day. How helpless he was under the thumb of Rod and Frieda Reiss, controlling his every move. At long last, he was able to act for the people and bring about a new age of peace." Henri divulged himself with a good sip of his wine. "People are so predictable. When they have freedom, they cause chaos. Who do you think they'll run to when all hope is lost? Us."

Emerich took another swallow and swirled the liquid in his glass. "For all of her faults, I don't think that we were in dire straits with Frieda's rule. Yes, she made some questionable choices. I'm not refuting that. But given her youth, and who her father is, I think things could have gone far worse before now. Good intentions seemed to be her motto."

Henri would've fired a retort were it not for glass shattering to the right of him. Immediately, he jumped out of his chair and pulled out his knife as he heard the sounds of someone violently hitting the bookcase. It took two hits for the whole thing to come down. Standing with a dirty trench coat around him and a pistol in one of his hands was a furious Rod Reiss. He stepped through the newly-opened window and aimed his gun at Henri's head. "Didn't see this one coming, did you?" he growled.

"Well, I did forget about that window," he admitted, not at all concerned about the weapon currently pointed at him.

"Rod! There's no need for that," Emerich protested. He rose to his feet, and set the wine glass aside. "We're gentlemen. Let's behave as such, rather than like the rabble outside."

Rod's eyes darted to Emerich and then to the wine glass he just put down. "You two… were having drinks together?"

"Of course we were," Henri answered. "Is that a problem for you?"

The regent's body began to shake slightly. "So, you betrayed me as well, Emerich? How disappointing."

"No! It's not like that," Emerich argued. "I swear to you, Rod. I had nothing to do with-"

Rod interrupted by turning his gun onto him. A single shot hit Emerich square in the chest, sending him straight to the floor. No more protests. No more lies. If he had to kill every single person in his way, so be it.

The sound of fabric ripping combined with a slight pain on his shoulder cut his thoughts short, and his eyes flew to Henri, who was attempting to reach his neck with the blade. The smoking gun in Rod's hand was useless unless he could reload it, so he swung it like a club at the man's face instead.

Henri blocked with his arm, pulling the knife away before striking again at the regent's torso, succeeding in doing nothing more than shredding the front of his cloak when Rod sidestepped. "Come to kill me in my own house, eh, Rod? You planning to make an example out of me, like you did with the Garbers?"

Rod growled and grasped his former friend's left wrist and snapped it sharply, causing him to drop the knife with a shout of pain. Now armed with both the knife and the pistol, he turned to Henri. "You fucking betrayed me. Nobody betrays me and lives."

"You won't get away with this," Henri swore. "You have no friends left. Nobody who's willing to stand on your side."

"I don't need friends," Rod sneered. "Only people who will be useful to me. And you've exhausted your purposes."

Henri punched him in the jaw with his good arm, knocking the regent backwards a step. "Go to hell, Rod."

"Not today," Rod said decisively, wiping blood from his mouth. A right hook from the regent evened the playing field, and blackened one of Henri's eyes. He shook his head to clear his vision, but it wasn't enough to keep him from momentarily losing focus. And Rod was never one to miss an opportunity. Searing pain shot through Henri's right thigh and he crumpled to the floor beside Emerich's lifeless corpse. Only the top of the knife hilt was left visible. He writhed in agony as blood poured from the wound.

"Enjoy your last few moments of misery before the fires of hell consume you, Henri," Rod said coldly, watching every second of his demise.

"Fuck you… Rod." Henri panted heavily, growing weaker by the second. "Your sins are coming. They're... calling for you. Mark… my..." The man slumped backwards, motionless.

Rod let out a derisive snort while he exited the house the way he came in. "I'll remember to stop by and piss on your grave," he called over his shoulder as he left. Two traitors promptly dealt with. Unfortunately, he didn't have the luxury to deal with his former bodyguard. For now, it was time to return home.


"For the love of the Goddess, Abel, I've had enough of your bullshit! Just put something suitable in your bag for a couple of days, and call that adequate," Greta shouted at her daughter. "Your father will be home shortly, and I don't want to keep him waiting while things get worse in the streets."

Abel stared defiantly back at her mother. "All I asked, Mother, was if you thought it appropriate to bring a dress. I'm sorry. I'll make sure to keep my mouth closed when you decide to snap at me for not being more elegantly dressed for the suitors you'll have me seeing while at the homestead."

"Abel…" Dirk hissed. "Now's not a good time to argue."

"Shut up, Dirk," Abel snapped. "Are you all packed and ready to go?"

"Yes," he admitted sheepishly. "Didn't take more than a minute or two."

"Maybe you'd be finished as well if you spent as much time packing as you did running your mouth, young lady!" Greta seethed. "Back to your room. Now!"

The door slammed open, causing all eyes to dart to the opening. Instead of Rod, it was a disheveled and panting Urklyn. Last time he was that angry, he was in a drunken rampage. "I couldn't get to the hospital," he stated in a clipped tone before anyone could talk. "The riots kept getting in my fucking way."

"No! No! They have to let you through! You're a Reiss!" Greta shook her head. "We have to check on Florian. If the riots have gotten to the hospitals…"

"What could happen?" Abel argued. "Aside from the security that the hospital has set up, Kenny has supervision on her to keep anything from happening to her. That's what security is for."

"It's not good enough!" Greta insisted. "One of us needs to be there with her. How long did you try, Urklyn?"

"Oh, I only tried for ten seconds, and I just gave up like a little bitch," he sneered at her. "What the hell kind of person do you think I am, Mother? I did everything I could. Hell, I even killed a couple of madmen who tried to beat me to death with metal pipes!"

"You did all you could," Abel assured him. "She'll be okay until Father can get her out to us as well." While she didn't voice it, it was a hope, not an assurance that their baby sister would be okay.

"That will take some time, but I will make it happen." Rod stood at the doorway, equally worn out as his son. "In the meantime, all of you need to leave immediately. The cottage in Wall Rose will keep you all safe from this madness."

"We're nearly ready. Your daughter has chosen not to finish packing her bag and will require an extra couple minutes, however," Greta groused, shooting a dark look at Abel.

"I only need a minute," the seventeen-year-old corrected. "I don't take as long to get ready as Frieda does. Never have."

"Can we just stop the bickering already?" Dirk asked, exasperated. "The country is going to shit, and we're busy complaining to each other. Come on, guys!"

Urklyn heaved a sigh before he announced his decision. "I'm not going to leave until Florian is safe. I'm staying with Father."

"Are you crazy!?" Dirk shouted suddenly. "Father, I can understand, but you? You barely got out alive!"

"Dirk-."

The youngest brother grabbed him by the shoulders, tears welling up in his eyes. "Urklyn, I can't lose you, okay? I can't. Not when…" He couldn't say his fears, not in front of his mother.

"... he made it out alive before, Dirk, I think he's got the best shot of making it back to us if he does stay," Abel said slowly. "I don't like it either, but I understand why he's doing it."

Urklyn gently removed his brother's grip and added, "I'm coming back, little brother. I plan on hearing you make terrible jokes for the next thirty years. Can't do that if I'm dead."

Despite his best efforts, Dirk couldn't help but chuckle. "Just for that, you get forty years."
Greta grasped her eldest son's hand in hers. "Protect her. Bring her safely to me, Urklyn. I'm counting on you."

Abel watched Urklyn's face, slowly nodding. "She's going to need it as much as the rest of us are. We won't be apart for much longer."

For the first time in a while, Rod embraced his wife. "Be safe, okay?"

"You as well. Things are dangerous, and only getting worse." Greta stared him down. "Don't do anything reckless. You either, Urklyn."

"No promises, Mother," her son replied seriously.

"All of you get out while you still can," Rod ordered before softening his tone uncharacteristically. "I truly love you all. Be safe."


Life as a merchant was not an easy one within the Walls, and that was before the restrictions Lord Reiss had reinstated. Those wealthy enough made their living by taking their produce and wares from Wall Rose into the Interior to sell them for more money than those in the less affluent areas could afford to pay. And then the riots began. The streets that were typically full of customers looking to purchase items were replaced with angry mobs out for the harm and destruction of anyone else around them. Even still, there were streets of calm that allowed those who were in hiding to come and purchase food, and for those areas, merchants were needed.

If things weren't bad enough with the riots, the gates of the Walls were now on lockdown. All those who carried special permission and approval by the nobility were permitted to enter and exit Wall Sina without question. For any merchant fortunate enough to sell their products in Wall Sina, they required such permission, as well as being held to random carriage and wagon searches. Anyone found to be smuggling weapons into Wall Sina, or smuggling people out to Wall Rose was detained for immediate questioning. Those who refused to cooperate were executed on the spot.

"Stop the wagon!" a Garrison lieutenant ordered, bringing one of the wagons to a halt. He gestured for the MPs to search it, and they removed the cover. Inside this particular cart were crates full of fruits and vegetables. Clearly, it would be the last time these merchants eat good food from the Interior. The crates themselves were too small to hide anyone. "Everything is in order. Move along."

With a nod, the merchant continued his way into Wall Rose. If the lieutenant did a more thorough check of the crate of carrots, he would've noticed a sack that contained a certain, short person of the Reiss family who, despite his small stature, managed to curl himself enough not to stand out.

A few uncovered wagons passed them by bearing objects ranging from chairs to paintings. Definitely going to try and make a profit somehow. Naturally, the lieutenant brought the next covered cart to a stop and the MPs got to work.

At least, they would have were it not for an anxious Greta smashing an urn onto one of the officers' heads. As he went down, Abel kicked the other MP in the face before the two women made a mad dash for the open gate.

Immediately, the lieutenant tackled Greta to the ground, locking her arms behind her back. "Get the girl now!"

A warning shot struck the wall just before Abel could reach freedom. Instinctively, she froze in place, giving the other MPs time to catch up and shackle her. "Get your fucking hands off of me, you bastards!" she snarled.

The MP rolled his eyes. "They say that all the time. Does it ever work?"

"Not to my knowledge," the lieutenant answered, hoisting Greta up. "Take the merchant into custody. I'll deal with these pests."

"That won't be necessary, Lieutenant." Nile Dok strode over to the scene as calmly as he could. "That was some nice work taking down these idiots. I'll take it from here."

The MP cocked his head to the side in confusion. "Sir, I think I can handle two noblewomen."

"What a coincidence. So can I. That will be all, Lieutenant." The commander's tone demanded obedience as he took custody of the Reiss women. He didn't bother saluting as he dragged them away from the area.

"Commander Dok. I'm sure you can sort this out," Greta tried to flash a charming smile at him, then made a face, spitting dirt out of her mouth. "I'm certain your fine men here had no intention of treating fine ladies such as us in a horrific manner."

Before he could respond to that, he felt Abel stomp on his foot. "Will you knock it off, you brat!?" he growled.

"Only when you remove these damned shackles from my wrists. They fucking hurt!" Abel snapped.

"If that's your biggest problem right now, you need to sort out your priorities... Miss Reiss." Nile whispered the last two in her ear.

Abel froze, her eyes flying to his face. "There's no way for us to get out now, is there?" she whispered back.

"With your crappy attempts at hiding and fleeing, definitely not. There's a safe house nearby I can stash you in. If you don't trust me, say the word, and I'll uncuff you both right here so you can roam the streets alone."

Greta took charge then. "How safe is it? I mean, all things considered."

Abel interrupted as a thought occurred to her. "Mother. Dirk wasn't caught. He was able to make it out."

Greta shot her a look. "Not my priority right now, Abel."

"The only priority we need to concern ourselves with is survival." To the right leaning against the door of what appeared to be a run-down house was Caspar Bohn crossing his arms. "Think we can all agree on that?"

Abel's eyes drifted over the newcomer. He was young, in his twenties, as tall as Urklyn, with a mop of ginger-red curly hair, and green eyes. His clothing was covered in a light layer of dirt, and she didn't have to reason far to come up with an explanation, given the state of everything within Wall Sina. "Agreed. Are you an MP too?" she asked curiously.

"Not a chance. The hours suck and you have to deal with the worst coworkers imaginable," Caspar replied with a smarmy grin.

Nile rolled his eyes in annoyance. "That's the pot calling the kettle black and you know it."

Abel's attention turned back to Nile. "Then why is he here?"

"He was part of your father's inner circle… former inner circle," the commander corrected with a shake of his head. "Believe it or not, he's one of the people who are loyal to your sister like I am."

"Loyal to Frieda? As opposed to what?" Greta questioned.

"...isn't he a little young to be part of Father's inner circle? I thought they were all old windbags like he is," Abel snarked.

"You will not speak of your father that way, Abel Reiss! So help me… when this is sorted out," Greta began. "I will be personally making sure-"

"Yeah, yeah. You'll make my life hell, just like you always have whenever I put a toe out of line. I've reached adulthood, Mother. You're going to have to find a new method, or learn to speak to me with more respect," the seventeen-year-old cut her off.

Great. This is what I get to look forward to when my kids grow up. Nile thought sourly before he cleared his throat. "Let me ask you two something: do you know what your father has done, especially as of late?"

Greta spoke first. "No. He keeps me out of the politics most of the time, and that's my preference. I don't need to hear the nonsense he deals with on a daily basis."

"What specifically?" Abel went to cross her arms but the shackles stopped her. "Father's hardly had clean hands, and Urklyn brought some of his misdeeds to our attention recently."

"Your father has been trying to destroy the Queen ever since she abdicated the throne to go Titan killing with Erwin." At their shocked expressions, he scoffed. "Come on, the Queen just decides to lend her castle to a trial for the first ever Female Titan and she doesn't bother to show? You people must think we're too stupid to put two and two together."

Abel snorted at that. "In our defense, that wasn't my idea, and I thought it was stupid to begin with when we got word about it happening."

"The infighting has caused tensions within Sina to rise to a boiling point," Caspar went on as he walked towards the group. "The death of Dimo Reeves finally lit this damn place ablaze." He eyed them suspiciously. "And you two didn't know a damn thing? You're his family, for God's sake."

"He hardly deserves 'father of the year'," Greta shook her head. "Shall we list his sins? He cheated on me with a fucking maid, had a bastard child, permanently traumatized my eldest son…"

"I think they get the point, Mother," Abel pointed out. "Aside from keeping up appearances to try and keep us from harm, Father doesn't care about any of us. Certainly not Frieda when he found that she isn't submitting to his every whim like she used to. He only cares about saving himself and keeping our family in power."

"So, he smuggled himself out of Sina without you?" Nile guessed.

"No. He said he had some things to take care of first," Greta answered. "Including getting our youngest daughter Florian out of the hospital and to safety as well."

"But you just said he doesn't care about any of you," Caspar pointed out suspiciously. "Why would he risk his life to save your sister if that's the case?"

Greta had no words and fell quiet. Abel knew the truth and refused to say. How could she express that he was planning on using her brother to usurp her older sister? Dysfunction didn't begin to cover the relationship issues within the Reiss family. Rod had no desire to save Florian. She was as good as on her own right now. From what she'd seen in Urklyn's expression when they parted ways, he'd do everything in his power to get to Flo eventually. Even if it meant defying their father again. Now, she was stuck with her mother, with no way out of the chaos. At least they were being offered a safehouse, with people that so far had proven trustworthy. All she could do was pray for the safety and well-being of her siblings, and that somehow, they would all see each other again.