This chapter is especially dedicated to those of you who've enjoyed Edelgard's role in the story so far. All I'll say is, it's a long read but I'm sure you'll deeply enjoy it. And if I were to choose a song to show Rolan's loyalty, I'd say it has to be Apex of the World from the official soundtrack.

I hope you enjoy the read, and do consider leaving a review if you do. I'd really appreciate it!

Let's begin shall we?

Betrayal (Black Eagles XIII)

Having dressed down to my shorts, I lay next to Edelgard in bed with the sheets pulled up to our shoulders, her bare back pressed to my chest and her firn behind teasing my crotch. I imagined Anna knocking on our bedroom door earlier might've calmed Edelgard's desires some.

Turns out I was wrong. The princess is nothing if persuasive.

First she complained about her side of the bed feeling lumpy - the result being a full-scale invasion of mine.

Her next issue was the straps of her bra digging into her shoulders, and so the troublesome article was tossed into the furthest corner of the room.

"I'm cold, Rolan," she rasps. Her backside rubs up against my shorts roughly, pushing out a pleased grunt from the back of my throat. "Very cold."

An obvious lie, given the fire is crackling and I'm sweating because of our closeness. The two of us are practically sticking together - skin to skin. My will to fend off her advances shakier by the second, I wrap my free arm around her exposed tummy and embrace her. "...Is that better, Princess?"

Again Edelgard grinds her bottom against me in an attempt to collapse my defences. "Much better."

Losing the battle against sinful urges, I squeeze my eyes shut.

Just because Edelgard expressed a desire to continue our romance it doesn't mean I should encourage it too much. For my own sake, as selfish it sounds. My time with Hilda and Dorothea showed how easily I fall for women with personality, and my new house leader has as outstanding a personality as they come.

Edelgard rests her hand atop of mine and joins our fingers tightly. Moment by moment I'm guided lower, my hand brought to rest at the front of her underwear. My heart's already hasty melody climbs to a thunderous encore at the invitation I've been given.

The princess shivers and releases my hand, leaving me free to explore. "...I don't mind," she begins in a rouge-tinged whisper, "if you slip aside the fabric."

Royalty or not, if she keeps this up I'm gonna lose control.

"We shouldn't..." I protest - this time a verbal attempt at maintaining my collapsing restraint. "We've indulged enough." There's only one way I can stop her. I have to draw a line she won't cross while we're together as equals. "Unless it's an order, I refuse."

"How very unfair of you," utters Edelgard disappointedly. "To treat me as you would in Garreg Mach at a time like this. Are you truly fighting to resist so poorly that you would have me assert my status, Rolan?" A question as mocking as it is sensual in its delivery.

My eye twitches. Her being one step ahead of me even in the heat of the moment is oddly irritating. I'll teach her a lesson for it. Just a little one.

"Not at all... Edelgard."

I bury my face into the nape of her neck and pinch her skin between my teeth, just long enough to earn a tiny whimper of surprise from the noble girl. What I don't expect is for her entire body to jerk, a reaction so sudden my teeth bare down in a full-blown bite.

Quivering, Edelgard rolls submissively onto her stomach and releases an unchained moan into the pillows.

Mindful not to press down any harder (for fear of breaking her skin) I relax my jaw and retract my teeth.

I'm now laid atop of her. The sheets cling to my back and Edelgard's skin sticks to my front. I'm panting heavily.

Breathing equally hard, Edelgard raises her head from the pillow. "I'll not have you toy with me any longer..." She wriggles her backside as much as she's able while trapped underneath me. "I hereby command you as Royal Princess of Adrestia: remove my undergarments, Rolan Gesalt - at once."

An eager shiver shoots up my neck. Her decree both assertive and a touch playful, I'm in no position to refuse. "As you command, Mistress Edelgard."

I lift myself off and Edelgard rolls onto her back.

With passion-infused eyes and a playful pout she raises her hips from the bed. "If you'd be so kind," she encourages with flushed cheeks.

"It'd be my pleasure." I get a firm two-handed grip of her behind (allowing myself a hearty squeeze while I'm at it) and slide her underwear down her hips, over her thighs, and slip them off by her ankles. Having freed the item of clothing from the owner, I notice a tiny damp patch on their front.

I smirk. Biting the princess awarded more of a response than expected, clearly.

Dropping the underwear over to the edge of the bed, my eyes crawl upward inch by inch in appreciation of Edelgard's fine feminine form.

Her long and slender legs. Her wide and appealing hips. Her perfectly firm breasts. Her long neck and pretty face. And the most lovely things of all - her two pools of deep and soothing blue. Cool and clear - it feels as though they could soothe my every pain in the world.

Her cheeks going from a soft pink to a deep red, Edelgard sits up and throws her well-toned arms around my shoulders.

Lugging around an axe as a weapon of choice has built those biceps of hers, I'll wager.

"Please..." Edelgard's face inches nearer, her lips pursed and her eyes closed in waiting. "Do me the honor of a kiss."

Our noses touch. I coil one of my arms around her slim waist and draw her body to mine.

Edelgard's breasts - medium sized, perky and devilishly soft - press against my chest.

My heart is full to overflowing. Everything about this woman has me trapped, ensnared.

Her looks, her personality; the scent of her perfume mingling with the faint tinge of passionate perspiration.

"If you continue like this, Lady Edelgard..." I pause a mere inch from her lips. "I'll fall too far."

Edelgard shudders at my gentle confession, and I join our lips as one.

She widens her mouth wider and presses it to mine with all the heart and soul she can muster. A true lover's tussle.

I fall back onto the bedsheets and shut my eyes, allowing Edelgard to claim me for her own.

My head is swimming. My heart is fluttering like I'm a love-struck child. My skin is beading with sweat on the surface and prickling underneath.

Edelgard separates her lips from mine. I feel her edge in reverse the smallest fraction, her breaths thin and short.

"If you were to fall in love with me, Rolan," she starts nervously. "I would not object. But be warned," she continues. "There is darkness in my heart, and boundless ambition in my soul." Her hand touches the side of my face, her outstretched fingertips trailing over my skin.

I open my eyes to find hers trembling - welling with tears.

"I appreciate your affection, and your loyalty. You know so little about me; my plans - my goals."

Actions speak louder than words, and in just two short days I've seen enough to change my opinion for the long-term.

Where I believed the Church of Seiros safe and wholesome, I now feel anxious. Priests make me paranoid.

"I've no regrets trusting you. We're in this together."

I'll remain at her side as a steadfast protector - forever thankful for the short but wonderful time we've spent together.

Edelgard having long since fallen asleep, my attention is fixed upon the bookcase nailed to the wall at the far end of our hotel room. Countless tomes of different topics and subjects span the shelves. From olden tales of romance, to bardic poetry, and even a few epic tales spun by adventurers of days gone by. It's sad to see such a diverse collection coated in a thin layer of dust. I'm quite the fan of reading between my training, all said and Done.

Tutting at the sorry sight, I begin tracing my finger across the spines of the tome collection two rows down. One entry stands out amongst the selection of several hundred page fiction novels: a thinner book with a scuffed and faded blue spine. It looks weathered with mistreatment. Feeling out of place amongst its counterparts, I'm taken by a sudden urge to pick it out for a read. I carefully wiggle the book from the shelf and flip it on its side, my curiosity only grows.

"The Basics of Magical Practice: as Transcribed by Royal Prince Leo of Nohr."

A spell book, and one with a subtle sense of familiarity to it.

During Pop's visit to Garreg Mach we talked about his distant homeland of Hoshido - a faraway place he'd been exiled from. If I remember rightly he told me that Hoshido had been locked in an almost unending feud with a rival nation called Nohr for some reason, but specifics he didn't share.

"Interesting..."

A book from my old man's neck of the woods. I'm not very good with magic. I'd so far as to say awful, in fact. But I suppose it's worth a read if only for the sake of learning a morsel or two. And who knows? It might talk in some detail about this land of Nohr I was told about.

I turn and tiptoe across the carpeted floor as to not disturb Edelgard's slumber, my newly chosen read in hand.

Carefully pulling out a chair, I seat myself at the varnished dinner table and open the book. Flicking past the title page, I start skimming over the summary. I must say, it's very well-written, curly handwriting and all. Prince Leo must've had one of those fancy royal tutors.

"The ability to comprehend magic and its methods depends entirely on the individual practitioner..."

I'm shaken from my read by Edelgard muttering under her breath. I shift my gaze just quickly enough to see her roll over in the bed and pull the linens over her ivory shoulders. She's even graceful and ladylike while asleep. I smirk. It's hardly surprising. She's a future ruler, after all.

My voice lowered to a whisper, I keep on my reading.

"Some are capable of creating a magical spell through an often long-winded incantation. Others simply read the words inscribed upon a page in their mind to manifest a spell. These are the two most commonplace methods, and are widely regarded as successful for beginners."

Unsurprising, Prince Leo. Professor Byleth taught us exactly the same way during one of her lectures. Marianne and Lysithea did really well in that class. Heck, they were teaching others the basics by the end of our lesson. Even the professor was impressed.

Practically the whole class was able to summon a small gust of wind or conjure a tiny flash of fire by the lecture's end.

Everyone but Raphael and me. Miss Byleth wasn't mad about it or anything. She went so far as to say some of us aren't built for it.

My stomach dipping at the memory, I return to the page.

"There is however, a third lesser-known method used to weave a magical spell."

Go on, Prince Leo. I'm listening.

"The art of visualization has been known to work with some, though the success rate is very low. For example, some who wish to summon a flame may visualize a crackling fire and develop an innate connection with the element itself. Those who successfully visualize typically boast a form of magical potential which is slow to rouse and develop, but will become vibrant with practice."

I look from the book to the gently crackling fireplace behind me. Its embers are soft and warm, its orange hue oddly soothing.

"Visualization, huh?"

I shut my eyes and fixate upon nothing but those dancing yellowy orange wisps in my mind's eye.

Right arm outstretched and palm open wide, I push aside the book with my free hand.

Calm down, Rolan. Focus on nothing but the fire. You are those flames. Feel their heat enveloping your body.

"Focus. Focus. Focus."

A blissful sensation crackles beneath the surface of my skin. My opened palm is heating up all of the sudden.

"Just a little more."

An inferno rages through me, my blood bubbling and a droplet of sweat sliding down my forehead.

Hotter. Brighter. Stronger.

I open my eyes.

"...No way."

Each of my fingertips and my thumb commands a tiny white-hot flame. I stretch my digits as wide as and as far apart as they will possibly go. Each of the tiny flames swell in size and combine into a single twisting and fluttering sphere of rumbling white in the centre of my palm.

I'm holding fire in my hand! I'll be damned. I actually did it!

Now to get rid of this thing so I don't set the entire room ablaze. The last thing I need to do is cause chaos.

I snap my unburdened left-hand fingers in recollection.

Dorothea! The gorgeous brunette usually closes her palm to extinguish the spells she summons.

Will it work for me? There's only one way to find out.

I close my palm around the fire, my body tensing as I expect it to hurt.

It doesn't. Far from it. The fireball fizzles out like a candle.

Victorious, I exhale gladly and lean into the chair.

"Well shit..."

That was fun, all things considered. Maybe I'm not so useless when it comes to magic after all. Maybe it's a hidden potential of mine. I might go so far as asking the girl on the bar downstairs if I can keep Prince Leo's book. Whoever the guy is, he knows what he's talking about as far as magic is concerned.

"I swear..." With a scoff I look to the ceiling, lost to the almost hypnotic swirling patterns of the paintwork.

Why Pop didn't tell me about Hoshido and Nohr sooner I'll never know. But one things for sure, I sure as heck need to quiz him further on his old homeland.

Time for a second attempt.

"Eyes closed. And visualize."

I create an artist's canvas within my mind; this time far more intense than before. Not just a fire, but an inferno.

As if a mantra, I repeat those same words from earlier in my head.

Hotter. Brighter. Stronger.

Concentrate, Rolan. Your body is one with nature's fury. You are a wildfire... Edelgard's wildfire. A protector at the behest of Adrestia's future ruler.

My concentration intensifies. Through the blaze walks my house leader. She's proud, bare and beautiful. Waves of purest red coil her curves and wrap her ivory flesh in ribbons. She pushes me down, her face inching nearer and nearer to mine. She is my cause, my reason to fight so long as we're stuck together.

"Hold me, Rolan," she whispers with desire, her plea within my head hauntingly wonderful.

Closer. Closer. Closer still she comes. Those lips of hers are lush and full, pale pink and beyond welcoming.

My eyes slowly open, my breaths contrastingly quick with yearning.

Within my open palm roars another white-hot sphere, this one larger and more stable than the first.

I focus my gaze beyond the summoned flame. Something is different within the room than when I last looked.

Edelgard (re-dressed in a fresh pair of plain white undergarments and her bra) has gotten out of bed and stands a few short steps from the table.

"You're still awake I see," she comments, raising a hand to her mouth and yawning gently.

Swallowing hard, my heartbeat a drum beat in my ears, I squash my palm shut and douse my spell.

"Y-Yeah," I reply stiffly, my hand shaking. I draw my arm back and rest my hand in my lap. "Something like that."

"Is something amiss?" Edelgard asks, her voice coloured with concern. "Your face is bright red."

"N-Not a thing..."

pulling out the chair across the table from me, Edelgard sits herself down. "Are you certain?"

I can't bring myself to lie. Her way of speaking is compelling; oddly charismatic - even if she is half-asleep.

"Got a bit too deep into my thoughts while practicing magic," I explain. "A little flustered, is all."

I slide the spell book across the table to Edelgard. She opens the cover, bringing a finger against the first page and tracing it along the title.

"Dorothea didn't mention anything about you being magically inclined when we first discussed you, Rolan."

My heartbeat calming and my passions lowering, I let out a cooling exhale and shrug.

"Even I didn't know. My attempts in class usually amounted to nothing. But using this book? Something just... clicked into place."

"Fascinating." Edelgard closes the book and moves it along the table to me. Gaze meeting mine again, she smiles softly. "I suppose it is true what they say, about everyone possessing a secret talent of sorts. You must be quite magical artist," she concludes. "If so, it would seem you're multi-talented. A rare but not unwelcome addition to our class." Her smile thins, her shoulders drooping. "It is unsurprising that Dorothea cares for you so deeply."

There she goes again, mentioning Dorothea and becoming gloomy.

I'd better change the subject.

"I'm merely doing my best to learn," I explain humbly, reclaiming Lord Leo's book. "Who knows?" I shrug again. "It's probably a fluke."

My mind drifts to home - to my early morning starts and my countless hours manning the kitchen of our family bakery. I was always happier practicing with a sword in my spare time as appose to rolling pastry and making pies. I prided myself on it, in fact. "It'll probably be easier if I stick with my sword."

"Whatever the case, Rolan..." Edelgard rises from her chair and steps around the table to stand beside me. She kneels, reaching out and touching her hand to my face with tenderness. Her eyes are just as lovely while they're heavy with sleep. "You should rest. Come now," she encourages, her fingers stroking my cheek with almost motherly compassion. "Lay beside me for a while. I'm sure you're worn out."

A request so sincere I can hardly refuse. I only hope she intends to let me sleep this time. I don't imagine it will be long until the sun rises. Not only that, either. This night feels as though it's gone on forever. Though I suppose it could be my imagination, given how stressful matters have been as of late.

I nod in concession.

"As you ask. I'll come to bed."

Anna has been acting mischievously since Edelgard and I arrived downstairs for the breakfast buffet.

It started small at first. The odd quirky look. A nudge of my leg by hers from underneath the table. Edelgard thankfully didn't notice the latter due to us being sat at opposite sides - me next to the redhead merchant and the princess by herself.

"You two look really groggy," Anna remarks with a teasing undertone. "Did you sleep well?"

Ever calm under pressure, Edelgard dabs the corners of her mouth with a napkin and gets up from her seat. "Wonderfully, thank you. Now, do excuse me for just a moment." She steps around her chair and looks toward the bar. "I'd quite like a cup of tea."

Edelgard leaves the table, and me to Anna's mercy.

I'm prodded in the ribs by my family friend no sooner than she's out of sight. "I knew there was something going on between you two." She leans closer to my ear after whispering. "Playing a high-stakes game, Rolan?" She giggles. "Goodness, I never thought you'd be so bold. Kojiro's only son, a noble hunter."

Way to make me sound like Dorothea when she first arrived at Garreg Mach, Anna.

I put down my knife and fork, closing my eyes and massaging my temples. Anna can't prove what she's implying despite her efforts. It goes beyond sleep, too. The clatter of other patron's plates is getting to me, as well as the light of the lantern on our table. And besides, even if her observation is correct, I can't casually admit to being hot and heavy with the future ruler of a country. "You're imagining things, Anna," I grumble. "Just finish your coffee."

"If it's my imagination then why do you smell of perfume? The exact same rosewood perfume Edel- Marissa bought from me on credit yesterday?"

"We shared a room," I answer flatly, re-opening my eyes. Picking up my fork, I cut a piece of jam-filled pastry and stab it. "It's no surprise I smell of the stuff when she sprayed it about this morning while dressing. That's common sense, right?"

Perfumes and colognes are strong for a reason. Anna should buy my line of thought easily enough.

What I don't expect is for her to sniff at me. I tilt in inch or two in to the side to evade but she's too quick. That's merchant reflexes for you. They're agile as all heck. "Fair is fair, but you reek of the stuff," the redhead notes. "It's soaked into your skin, and your clothes."

I stuff the pastry into my mouth, chewing it around a few times and swallowing. "You're not letting this silly idea go, are you?"

"I'd drop it if you two weren't playing husband and wife a little too well."

I put down my cutlery and pick up the dinted iron cup of beside my plate, bringing the rim to my lips. A hearty mouthful of water eases my dry throat.

"Nothing's going on," I insist, setting my cup down again.

Anna pokes the nape of my neck in a surprisingly tender spot. I flinch at the unexpected soreness.

"Strange," she chuckles sinisterly. "You didn't have this bruise on your neck yesterday."

She's right. I didn't.

Edelgard must've bit me last night, payback for my doing it to her.

More fool me for not checking myself in the mirror when I woke up. "Just..." I stall, the retort I need anywhere but where I need it. "Forget about it."

"Oh don't you worry, little Rolan. I'll remain quiet about what I've seen... for a price."

I turn in my seat and stare down Anna. My eye twitches with irritation. "Come again?"

She throws up her hands in surrender, the corners of her mouth curving upward into a cheeky smile. "Kidding, kidding!"

"You'd better be."

Damn girl, always a tease. My face feels warm from having fallen into her trap.

"I am," Anna assures. "A promise as good as gold."

I return to my food. There's a strawberry tart and a piece of pastry left over, but I don't feel hungry anymore. Finished, I nudge the plate back and grab my cup. Another much-needed swig of water clears my throat. There are more important matters at hand. "How much longer until we're safely at Garreg Mach?"

"Two days," Anna answers. I notice two raised digits on her right hand from the corner of my eye. "A Day and a half if we push the horses."

"Right, okay." I avert my gaze, finishing my water and putting down my cup beside my plate of half-finished breakfast.

My heart sinks, though I know it shouldn't.

Two more days and life will return to normal between Edelgard and me.

I'll be nothing more than a commoner transfer student, and she'll be saddled with the burdens of an empress-in-waiting - distant, alone. There's a horrible aching in my chest at the thought of it. Unable to contain it, I hold my head in my hands and exhale deeply.

"Is everything alright, Rolan?" Anna wonders, her hand resting on my shoulder in support. "Was it my teasing?"

"Not at all." I shake my head. "It isn't you."

"Then what-"

Heavy booted footfalls cut through the veil of soft chatter within the inn. I turn my head in the sound's direction - the doorway.

Walking into the dining area from the front hall is a priest of Seiros; gangly and gray-haired - the old man from last night!

He stops just past the bar and begins looking over his surroundings intently. "He was in here last night - the young lady also."

Standing off to the left-hand side of him is a woman, who nods at his statement. "I hear you."

A woman with quite the distinct appearance, too. Tall of stature for a member of the fairer sex and slim of build - short and straight sky blue hair reaches just past her small rounded ears. Her face is long and her skin is smooth and light, her deep ocean leer trained in mine and Anna's general direction - scouring the premises. Dark blue heeled boots reach just below her knees, and she also wears tight leather trousers. A thin and equally blue overcoat covers her torso, while a form-fitting black leather bust hugs to her chest. Underneath it is a white shirt which is buttoned to the top button.

Her attire fits a small-town mercenary far better than a member of Lady Seiros' order.

I look down from her face to her waist - to the sheathed dagger at her hip.

"She's armed. Not good," I utter soundlessly.

Halfway between the bar and our table, Edelgard notices the Seiros priest and his female counterpart. She flinches and stalls on the spot.

My arm drops to my side on instinct. Where I expect to find a sword belted to my hip there's nothing.

Gods be damned! That's right! I left it in our hotel suite!

I have to take action, even if it risks causing a scene. If I can summon a fireball it'll be better than nothing.

"Instructor Shamir...?" Edelgard addresses the female stranger, her gaze wide with surprise.

The blue-haired mercenary responds to the namesake by turning on her heels. "Miss von Hresvelg," she replies in steely greeting, locking eyes with Edelgard.

A tense standoff follows, neither woman sparing a breath.

I visualize a fledgling flames and a hurriedly bring them to life in my fingertips. Ready to act, I stand from the table and rush to Edelgard's protection, expanding the tiny embers at the tips of my fingers into a crackling fireball. My duty clear, I get between my mistress and this 'Shamir' woman.

"Whoever you are, I'd watch your step," I warn.

Shamir's tense expression eases, her lips glinting with a hint of interest. "Rolan Gesalt, I presume?"

I'm left dumbfounded when my name leaves her mouth. I blink. "How do you know my name?"

"It was given to me, along with a description. As I said, my name is Shamir. I'm a teacher at Garreg Mach."

I remain on guard all the same. "A description from whom? Look, I'm not sure I trust you. It's been a long couple of days."

"Your classmate, Dorothea." Shamir folds her arms and exhales impatiently. "Believe what you like, but I'm here on official Church business."

I point to myself with the index of my unburdened hand. "You're here for me?"

Shamir nods, unfolding her arms and taking a step forward. "Among other things, yes. For one, I don't see another young man in here with sharp features, lightly tanned skin, and scruffy black hair. You even have dark circles under your eyes. Miss Arnault was very clear on that part."

I expand the fireball I'm holding despite the evidence presented. "Sorry lady, I'm not going anywhere with you."

Shamir frowns at my refusal. "Fine then. You can wait where you are. I have other concerns to address."

Instruction delivered, she raises a hand and snaps her fingers. As if commanded, a pair of hotel patrons stand from the dining table closest the staircase.

They cast off their robes to reveal polished plate mail armor underneath. One, a young man about the same age as me with scraggly brown hair, draws a short sword. His partner, an older man with a bushy beard, a grizzled face and messy gray locks, does the same. The duo fall in behind Shamir and the priest. It's now that I notice the other hotel guests staring in stunned silence at the commotion.

"Now now!" calls Anna, getting out of her seat and strolling on over. "Settle down, everyone."

Edelgard taps my shoulder. I glance in reverse and find her nodding in approval at Anna's suggestion. "Stand down, Rolan."

"You're sure?"

A second nod of confirmation.

"As you ask, milady." I squash my fireball and lower my arms to their sides.

Edelgard strides ahead of me, the bold leader I've come to respect in recent days. "Instructor Shamir," she begins in a tone of authority. "I take it you are here under orders of Archbishop Rhea to escort myself and Rolan safely to Garreg Mach, correct?

"In a manner of speaking," replies Shamir, dipping a hand into her overcoat pocket and producing a piece of folded parchment paper with tatty edges. "I've been asked to recover the Gesalt boy on Lady Rhea's order. You on the other hand are a different matter, Miss von Hresvelg."

"What do you mean?" Edelgard ponders, her tone suddenly frought with unease.

Unfolding the paper, Shamir holds it out for Edelgard to read. I too get a good look from where I'm standing.

The hairs at the back of my neck stand on edge.

It's the letter Edelgard sent Petra - the one stating her desire to have Adrestia abandon the Church of Seiros.

"This note was handed to Catherine by one of your classmates," Shamir reveals, my worst fears realized. "The Royal Princess of Brigid."

I don't need to a mirror to see the color draining from my face. Gods help us, Petra. You don't realize what you've done!

Her head held low, Edelgard scoffs with revulsion. Her hands clench into trembling fists. "Even Petra has betrayed me. Just like the professor."

The agony clouding her voice wracks me with pity. No wonder she values dependable individuals.

"So you don't deny these words being penned by your hand?" probes Shamir with gave seriousness. Folding the damming note, she passes it off to the old priest behind her. "If so, what you've written amounts to heresy against Saint Seiros and the church. I trust you realize that."

"Perfectly," Edelgard responds with frightful flatness. She raises her head. "I know what fate awaits me at the Archbishop's hand."

Here and now I see the ugly truth. Rhea's branch of the Seiros faith are no better than the Western Church zealots. Straying from the flock brands you a traitor. Traitor or not, I'm going to defend Edelgard as best I can. Nobody in the room knows I've seen this note beforehand, as far as I'm aware.

"There must be some sort of mistake!" I grab Edelgard by the arm and tug her behind me, my own arms thrown wide to shield her from harm - a fireball blazing to life in each. With a deathly glare I bar the path of the armed knights and their mercenary leader. One of the peons points his sword my way, but Shamir warns him against it with a stern glare. "I've travelled with her these passing days, and we've kept each-other safe. I refuse to bel-"

"She's telling the truth, Rolan," Edelgard confesses painfully, stepping around me and entering into Shamir's grasp with raised hands. She turns from them and faces me head on. One of the Seiros knights pushes Edelgard onto her knees and binds her wrists with rope. Her eyes tremble, a lonesome tear leaking from one of them. "It's just as I said this morning. You don't know my goals... or my ambitions. But I won't allow you to suffer. You're far too precious to me."

Despite knowing her guilt a lump chokes my throat, the minature blazes in my opened palms fizzling out. "...Milady."

Edelgard hangs her head and stares at the carpet underfoot, I imagine to hide her tears from onlookers, and me. "Miss Shamir?"

"Yes, von Hresvelg?"

"Swear you won't harm Rolan or Anna. They've risked their lives to defend me and know nothing of my deeds."

The blue haired mercenary sighs deeply and hauls Edelgard to her feet. Handing her off to her subordinates, she provides an affirmative nod. "You're the one in trouble. Rolan is to return to the monastery under my protection, while the merchant is free to go - provided she comes to Garreg Mach with us."

"What for?" Anna asks, adorning an expression equal parts puzzled and frightened.

"Questioning," Shamir confirms. "Regarding the heretic."

"Thank goodness," I hear Edelgard whisper. "You'll both be alright."

"Quiet, you!" commands one of the Seiros knights, prodding an elbow into Edelgard's stomach to shut her up.

On Shamir's instruction the noble girl branded traitor is marched away. She's soon far out of reach - being shoved through the hotel's front doors.

The foolish side of me wants to spark up a fireball, singe Shamir's face, and bolt after the knights escorting my house leader. My logical side knows I'll be killed before managing half of my plan. And even if I did somehow pull off the feat, it would place Anna in danger, too. I'm no vanguard general, nor a swordsman of legend. I can't risk the safety of my long-time family friend out of selfishness. My options slim, I breathe in and out to purge the foolish notion.

"What's going to happen to her, Shamir?" I ask worriedly, sickness building in the pit of my stomach.

The mercenary's grim expression reveals all I need to know. "She'll be brought before Lady Rhea, but the punishment for heresy is usually death."

Just like that, mine and Edelgard's escape has well and truly ended.

My life has been spared - likely through Petra downplaying my knowledge of the letter. And yet I couldn't give a damn.

If Edelgard dies-

I fall to my knees in defeat. Anna kneels next to me and rests a supportive hand upon my shoulder. "C'mon, Rolan. Stand up," she urges softly.

"If you die," I utter exhaustedly, "All we've been through will be for nothing."

My pledge. My learning to look past preconceptions. And most of all, our brief love shared.

What do I do? What can I do?

Just as before, when my place at Garreg Mach was uncertain, I'm utterly powerless.

"Up we get. We can't stay here," Anna ushers, getting me to my feet and guiding me toward the hotel's front door. Shamir leads us.

Upon arriving outside I find a carriage already waiting, flanked by platemail clad soldiers. Lots of them. There's a second carriage behind it - which Edelgard is being bundled into with brutish roughness by her two Seiros knight guards. Snapping from my haze, I climb up into the front of the first.

"In the back," Shamir instructs.

"Can't," I shake my head. "Travel sick. I'll vomit."

"Fine then," the mercenary speaks shortly, walking around the cart and hopping up into the front next to me.

Grabbing the reins, she glances over her shoulder. "You in, Merchant?"

"Sure am," Anna replies. "Teeny tiny question, though."

"What is it?"

"My trade goods, and my gold..."

"They'll be returned to you after coming with us. Anything else?"

Anna breathes the deepest sigh I've ever heard from her. "Nope. I'd say that about covers it."

"Thank goodness for that," Shamir mumbles. Looking to the road ahead, she cracks the reins. "Then off we go."

I tilt my head back once we start to move. I'm not feeling ill like I usually do durning a cart ride. And I know why.

My reason is in the cart following behind us, under watch with her wrists bound.

And there's nothing I can do for her. "Nothing..."

To be continued...

There you have it. Another chapter comes to a close! Did you like it? Would you like to see more in future? Feel free to leave some feedback and share your thoughts. As always, keep on supporting Fire Emblem and I'll see you in the next chapter. Thanks again!