A mere two days ago, Regis had bidden farewell to his children for what he knew to be the final time. Though his heart was heavy with deception, the falsehood was their path to safety. A meager legacy he left them: a chance at living long enough to witness darkness fall across Eos. Nevertheless, it was all he could give.
But dawn two days after their departure brought a disquieting phone call.
The imperials were due to arrive that afternoon. Lodgings had been arranged, a reception dinner was planned, and every politician and guard in the city was on high alert. A hundred matters awaited Regis' attention, but all faded to obscurity at Clarus' words:
"What is it? The prince?"
Regis halted mid-step on his bad leg and turned to Clarus. Clarus held out his phone. "It seems Reina will not wake."
Dread pierced his heart. For months he had gone to his bed each night and prayed that Reina would sleep a Dreamless sleep. If, at any time, she had seen the truth of what was to come, she would never have consented to leave his side. Now she had Dreamed, and for the first time in twelve years he had not been present to wake her.
He had no notion of whether or not she could be woken with merely the sound of his voice, nor had he any further ideas if this one should fail. He could not permit her to return to Insomnia. Not after what she must have Dreamed.
In those few seconds between his words and Reina's response, he held his breath and clenched Clarus' phone in his fist.
Words could scarcely describe the sense of relief he felt on hearing her voice—"Father?"—precisely as he had every time before.
But his secondary fears were confirmed. She had Dreamed of Insomnia. She had Dreamed of his death. And she knew, now—in spite of his every effort to keep it from her—what horrors the empire bore to the Crown City.
A day and a half still stood between now and the signing. A day and a half of goodbyes, this time without pretense. A day and a half of witnessing his daughter's mourning. His child. His little girl. The one who had told him he was her best friend. The one who would have given everything for him—had given everything for him. Much as he had never wanted to bring this upon her, he wished to witness it even less. How could he push her away, again, when she begged to be with him? The first time had been nigh unbearable for both of them.
Alas, none of the eventualities that his mind concocted in those few seconds of rising panic could measure up to a fraction of what actually came to pass when he told her not to return to Insomnia.
She said no.
Nearly twenty-one years old and in all that time she had never refused to do as he asked. When she was one year old, tottering and falling on her face in the gardens, she came when he called. When she was five, causing trouble for her nanny because she didn't want to go to school without seeing him, a few words from him sent her on her way. When she was eight, screaming in the night because she couldn't escape a bad Dream he told her to wake and she woke. When she was fourteen and he asked her not to wait for him—though she would have sat doing nothing while he worked all day—she went quietly to dinner with her brother. When she was eighteen, fussing over his health and insisting he couldn't sit in court, he had silenced her with a look.
When she was twenty, he sent her away knowing he would never see her again, knowing she wanted nothing less than to leave his side. And she went.
But today she said no. For the first time in her life, she refused to do as he said.
And, for a few moments, Regis was too shocked to appreciate the full magnitude of what that meant. And then—"I will fix this if it is the last thing I do"—he realized.
She was returning to Insomnia. And if she would not heed him, then she would stand by his side until the bitter end. They could not stop the empire; they could only make it more difficult for Niflheim to get what it wanted. That was contingent upon the prince and princess not being in Insomnia tomorrow night.
He ordered the gates closed to them—every guard in the city was notified that the prince and princess were not, under any circumstances, to be allowed inside. That would have to do; if she would not listen to reason then he would hold her out by force, much as he loathed it. She would not fight her way in.
"Sire—urgent word from the main gate. It seems that Princess Reina has gained entrance to the city and is on her way here."
"She what?" Regis rose from his throne; his right knee objected, but he leaned on his cane and pushed the discomfort aside.
How had two dozen gate guards failed to hold one five foot tall young woman at bay?
"The lieutenant on duty says that she warped through before they could stop her. No one has been able to catch up with her, let alone detain her."
She had—
What?
What?
"I thought Reina couldn't warp." Clarus was at his elbow.
"She has neither the magic nor the training," Regis said. And yet, here they were all the same. Was he to believe that every guard on duty was lying? Hallucinating?
"Noctis, perhaps…?" Clarus suggested.
It mattered very little how she had accomplished it. More important was how he would convince her to leave. She had disobeyed him once and if she could warp then it stood to reason that she could just as easily evade anyone ordered to escort her out of the city. She would never leave.
But worse than the sense of resignation that was slowly soaking into his soul was the selfish contentment. He would see his daughter again, hold her in his arms, if only once more. And, if he was destined to die here… at least he would do so in good company.
Regis bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. How could he even think that? He would not allow his daughter to die here.
As it turned out, she had very few regards for his plans.
The throne room doors swung open. The Crownsguards within range made a hasty retreat rather than be bludgeoned by them.
And there she was.
For a moment, Regis made the mistake of believing she was just the same as she had been—it was easier to delude himself from across the throne room.
She strode straight down the hall, past the Crownsguards who endeavored to take a stand in front of her.
"Your Highness—!"
Regis opened his mouth to order them down—what difference did it make, now?—but she was past them before he could form a single word.
Even knowing she could warp, as evidenced by the numerous accounts thus far, he was still stupefied. She took one step at the door and the next fifteen feet away. And so went every step thereafter. She crossed the throne room in three strides.
And, as she stopped at the bottom of the stairs, he looked at her for the first time. A not insignificant part of him wondered if he was looking at the same daughter whom he had bidden farewell to less than forty-eight hours before.
She was older.
For all that Reina had always been a peculiarly mature child and had been carrying a full half of the kingdom for the past three years, he had never struggled to see his little girl underneath.
Now he did.
"Father." She climbed the stairs. "Order the gates opened for Noctis. The imperials will arrive in a few hours—better that he be inside the city by then."
Regis' brow furrowed. "Better that he be outside the city by then, and you along with him. Have you lost your good sense? Turn around and leave this instant."
"No." She stopped when she was on a level with him. Still only five feet tall and yet she had that way of making herself seem taller. "Not this time, Father."
Two days ago, the words he had uttered would have made her recoil—demurred and rebuffed. Now she seemed not to care at all. In the next two days he anticipated facing his own death and the loss of his kingdom to the empire; Reina's lack of reaction terrified him more than all those things together.
Regis winced—a brief crack in the calm as he let her see his regret and fear.
"Reina, my dear… what have you Dreamed?" He opened his arms to her and a second passed before she came to him, letting him wrap her up and assure himself that she was real and whole. And, after a moment's hesitation—another unnerving oddity—she returned the gesture, hugging him more fiercely than he had ever known her to.
"We don't have time for that, Father. But I can fix this." In that whispered moment he caught a glimpse of his daughter. He pulled back to look at her, cupping her face in his hands, and she looked back at him.
Still whole. Thank the Gods. Whatever else had passed, she was still inside behind those newly hardened features.
"I need you to trust me without question. Unconditionally," she said.
In all the months preceding, from the day the imperial chancellor had waltzed into the throne room until now, Regis had been searching for a way out. Through every council meeting, through every late-night discussion with Clarus and even Reina herself, he had strained to find some hole in the net that was closing around them. And he had found one. Large enough to push only his children through and pray that it would be enough to send them away. That Insomnia would fall and Regis would die had been all but certainty. He did not need to see the future to guess what they were planning.
Never had it occurred to him that they could avoid the trap Niflheim had laid if they knew precisely where to look for it. Yesterday he would have said it was impossible; even if Reina had Dreamed what was to come, it would only serve to torment her. Now, looking into her eyes and seeing that fire of determination, he believed she could change it.
Still, one thing troubled him. He searched her face for the answer and found nothing.
"If you swear to me now that you will not try to trade your life for mine."
"I promise."
She answered too quickly—as a practiced lie, though he had never known her to lie to him, save innocently. It was a day for firsts.
"Why?" He asked. "Grant me this one question and every one hereafter I will hold."
She considered him for a moment, still holding onto his hands as he held onto her face.
Then the ferocity returned, like blazing fire: "I have lived through your death, Father. I never want to again, but if you love me even half as much as I love you then I would never force my death upon you. If you ask it of me—if it comes to that—I will bear Lucis and your loss on my own, rather than have you suffer."
Her words gave him pause: if she would rather let him die than experience half of what she had, how could he ask that of her? What pain must she have endured at his loss?
He had struggled with much the same concern, in the weeks before. She was young, still. And the loss of a parent was inevitable. She would learn; she would grow past it. If it came to that.
Regis stooped to kiss her forehead. "My dear, I love you twice as much as you love me."
"This is no time for joking, Father," she said, voice dry.
He smiled. "I trust you. Unconditionally. Do what you must do—and know that I stand beside you."
"Thank you." She threw her arms around his neck, hugging him fiercely once more and planting a kiss on his cheek. Then she withdrew and became the queen once more.
"Send word to the gate," she called down the hall, lifting her voice. "Let Prince Noctis and his retinue into the city."
AN: There's an FAQ about the audio drama, which I will answer here, since Guest 1995 asked it in the reviews:
Why does Reina have an English accent?
The short answer is: because Regis does. She's spent probably fifteen years trying to be just like him, and that certainly includes her manner of speech. So in spite of the fact that she and Noct were raised by the same nannies and largely interacted with the same people in their childhood, she would have picked up Regis' accent on purpose.
The reason why Regis and Ignis have English accents while Noct/Gladio/Prompto do not is actually something Tabata (if I recall correctly) answered in an interview at one point. Basically, the Lucian court and higher-ups have a different accent than the Insomnian common-folk and so on. Regis, as the king, obviously has this accent but Noctis does not because he was never really immersed in that (and actively tried to avoid it). Ignis, on the other hand, was very much involved in the royal court and, of course, so was Reina. So that's the second reason why she would have picked up the accent while Noctis didn't.
Funnily enough, we actually cast Julia (Reina's VA) with an American accent but I was never quite satisfied with it. After we had already started recording, I asked if she could do an English accent instead and we both agreed it sounded better for Reina's character. So that was kind of serendipitous.
So yeah. That is the long and short of Reina's accent. Hope you enjoyed the audio drama!