A warning for this chapter: it goes into a little detail about that particular part of revelations where corrin decides jumping into the bottomless canyon is the best way to go about getting the army to follow them. If that part bothered you, I would strongly advise skipping this chapter and returning for the next one.
God damn it, revelations, making me reconcile your wonky plot.
They stand at the chasm to the endless abyss, given a plea to follow into the unknown. Charlotte's grown up hearing stories that seemed so distant, unreasonable until it is at her feet; nothing from the bottomless canyon ever returns, it's called bottomless for a reason, and she cannot afford to let herself be swept up in this for the whimsy of nobles and a tepid truce. No sum is worth that.
(It is hardly a change in pay, anyway, from standing guard to standing army, and her legs ache. Her good fortune—if good fortune can be considered almost bringing blade to the neck of a princess bold enough to try and befriend enemy soldiers before revealing her standing is anything approaching lucky—is beginning to seem more and more like a curse in disguise.)
Her words, a hiss as they stand shoulder-to-shoulder: "I don't trust this at all."
"…Neither do I." For as much as he struggles to convey his emotions at times, trepidation and fear are out in equal measure across Benny's face.
True fortune had to be discovering he had the same change of heart; impulsive treason stings less when together. Her misery has never wanted company, but it is acceptable if it is him. When they met again, there had been shock, first, but then a smile with no prying eyes or false pretenses and a gentle punch to the arm.
Neither say anything for a long, long time, fool's errand sprawled before them.
"But, at the same time…"
As always, she breaks the silence, but trails off shortly after. There is a soft grunt under his breath as though he knows.
This is having a death wish, but there has a good reason so many soldiers have already followed Corrin to the abyss– crown princes included.
It sweetens the deal, of course, but there is still a grimace on her lips.
Benny finally clears his throat and steps forward, on shaky legs, and offers her an arm as a gentleman might.
Despite herself, a wry smile begins to bloom. He is far from a true gentleman, but the gesture is steeped in the gentleness that he exudes, the true kind she seeks to imitate.
They fall together, arm in arm, her final steps giving into anticipation and dragging him along over the edge.
Fall and fall, and the last thing she sees, past flying curls of hair streaming behind her, is him.
(Benny makes a good friend but a poor landing. Their combined armor breaks the fall–somehow– but shakes them to their core, still bruises their skin and rattles their bones. They survive, somehow, as they always have, with sunlight in their eyes in a land of legend.)