The screen showed images of the room Emmy was thrown in. It was a dark cell, almost like the one that was they were first in, but a little nicer. In the corner there was a giant four poster bed with drapes pooling to the floor, there was a desk and a modest bookshelf, but there was no windows.

She was tossed onto the floor with an unceremonious thud. Professor Layton watched with baited breath as she was picked up again and held by her neck as the thugs whispered to her. She kicked her legs and they squeezed tighter. The men laughed as her kicks became weaker and then dropped her on the floor again.

With a swift kick into her side and Professor Layton felt helpless as he watched her collapse onto the floor. They went to pick her up again and he cried out. "Please stop! Please don't hurt her anymore." He pleaded to Descole. "I will do anything you want, just let her go."

Descole laughed maniacally. "It is not very gentleman like to beg." He said before turning to a speaker and pressing the red button. "Alright gentlemen, leave her alone."

Like that the thugs dropped her back on to the floor and left with a slam of the door. He watched as she crumpled onto the floor and her shoulders shook as if she was sobbing. He would give anything to be in there with her, to comfort her or better yet to know that she was safe outside this prison. "What do you want?" Professor Layton growled, placing his fingers on the screen.

Descole turned the screen off to get his full attention. "Ambrosia. You know how to bring it up fully and you will bring it to me."

He nodded. "Okay." He said, he knew that wasn't all of it.

Descole walked around him, like a lion about to attack its prey. "I'm going to need an heir for Ambrosia," The feeling in Hershel Layton's stomach dropped to the floor and he knew why Emmy was there. "Miss Altava would make an excellent host for my future son or daughter, she is strong and smart. She is beautiful and very athletic."

Professor Layton stepped forward, but then remembered his hands were still bound. "You will not touch her."

The masked man chuckled before shoving him into a chair. "You, sir are under the wrong impression." He said before he finished the story. "Due to an unfortunate accident during my childhood, I am unable to produce an heir of my own and that is where you come in Hershel."

He felt like he was going to be sick, sure he had feelings for his assistant and sure had things kept going on the path they were, they might've progressed into a relationship. But he wasn't going to force himself on her. "Absolutely not. I won't hurt her. . ."

"You seem to think that I am giving you the choice, Hershel." Descole said pacing in front of him. "I will get my heir before the year is out or I will be forced to . . . take drastic measures. I will get what I want."

Before he could respond the two thugs came back in and started to drag him out of the room. "You can either do it in your own way or my way, Hershel." And as they got him into the hallway. "Let no one ever say that I wasn't a gracious host."

Hershel prayed that he would be put back with Emmy. He stopped fighting the thugs and allowed himself to be dragged down the hallway. How was he going to get them out of this mess? Could he do it before Descole forced his plan on them? He would sacrifice himself so that Emmy could be free again.

One of the men stopped and unlocked a door and the other one shoved him inside the room where he landed on the floor in a heap, his hands still tied behind his back. The door slammed shut and Emmy ran over to him. "Professor!" She cried, falling to her knees and sitting him up. Her hands went to cup his cheeks as she looked him over for any sign of pain. "He didn't hurt you did he?"

He was finally able to take her in. The gash on her forehead had split open again and bruises lined her neck. He shook his head and she threw her arms around his neck, he was unable to reciprocate because of his hands. "I am okay my dear," He reassured. "Will you please untie me please?"

She pushed back, her cheeks tinted with a beautiful pink color. "I'm sorry." She said as she moved behind him and started to undo the knot. He knew it had to be tight, as he fought to control himself in front of Descole, he pulled at it until his hands started to tingle and start to lose the feeling in them.

After a moment her nimble fingers freed his hands and immediately he began to rub the feeling back into his hands. He was stopped though by Emmy who took them in her hands, the angry red marks appearing from his cuffs, she went to touch his right wrist but thought better of it.. "You were trying to control yourself, weren't you?" She asked in a whisper. "You were digging the rope into your skin. . ."

His hands, now feeling almost normal except for the aching, went to cup her neck. "I'm okay, really Emmy." He pulled her into a proper hug, holding her against him like he wasn't going to see her again. He pressed his lips to the crown of her head and smoothed out the wrinkles in her white shirt. When his knees started to hurt from kneeling on the floor, he released her and stood up. She copied him and got to her feet.

He led her to the four poster bed and allowed her to climb in first. He followed soon after and wrapped his arms tightly around her. They sat in silence, their internal clocks not distinguishing what time it was but they were exhausted. "What does he want from us?" She asked, breaking the silence.

The sinking feeling returned, but he had to tell her. "Ambrosia." He said, his fingers untangling her hair at her shoulder.

She propped herself up on one elbow to look at him. "That isn't all, is it?" She asked. Damn, when did she get so good at reading him? He looked away and she could tell that he was shaken, so she took his hand in her free one and waited.

"He wants us to produce an heir."