If there was one thing Freya used to treasure in her youth was silence. It was for her a big part of the charm of being a lone wanderer. She was particularly fond of the almost mystical peace of mind that hitting the open roads gave her. Maybe all those beautiful memories were what made her own personal hell so ironic.

Sitting at an old wooden table, two former lovers shared a frugal meal. Long ago had their flame fizzled out, and all that was left was a dreadful, agonizing silence that only the rain hitting the windows dared interrupt.

A quiet, repetitive sound called their attention.

"We should fix that leak..." Sir Fratley said, with the most exhausted tone one could imagine.

Freya reluctantly got up, her chair scraping the floor. Her husband winced in annoyance, but said nothing.

"Where are you going?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"I'm going to town, we've been out of nails for a week," she answered dryly, putting on an old, tattered raincoat.

"You're just gonna drink yourself into oblivion, aren't you?" he shot at her, every word coated in poison.

"What if I am? You couldn't care less..." she retorted, without even turning back to face him.

"Why do you keep running, Freya? Why can't you accept the truth?!" Fratley had at that point dropped all pretense of civility and started furiously shouting at his wife.

"The truth, Fratley?!" She turned back, eyes ablaze. "Have you completely forgotten everything we ever stood for?! Have Ulrich's lies burrowed so deep into your heart that you can no longer tell friend from foe?!"

"... Ulrich will be king, whether you like it or not," he growled. "He will restore our lost pride and lead us into a new age of prosperity..."

"He will drive us into servitude, you stubborn, ignorant fool!" Freya retorted, raising her voice, "Can't you see he's a pawn of Treno's nobility? Where do you think his funds keep coming from?!"

"At least he's doing something about the state of the ruin we call home!" Fratley replied, folding his arms. "I've had enough of Puck's pathetic dependence on Alexandrian charity. Queen Garnet doesn't give a damn about us! She's only feigning generosity to keep us starved and under control!"

Freya crossed the room in three strides and stopped inches from her husband's face with the most furious expression he had ever seen.

"Speak ill of Garnet in front of me again and I will pummel you into the ground..." she hissed, fists balled up and ready to deliver on her threat. Fratley gasped and then glared at her, deeply hurt: he couldn't believe what he had just heard.

"Go to hell, Crescent..." he bitterly answered.

"I'm already there..." she shot back and turned to leave.

"Hope you choke on your godsdamn ale, you traitorous bitch!" he finally exploded, two decades of hunger and humiliation fueling his blind rage. He immediately covered his mouth with his hands, terrified of his own outburst.

"Darling..?" He mumbled, staring into his wife's eyes. Distant lightning illuminated her devastated expression for a second and Fratley realized that they had just stepped past the point of no return.

"Gods... what have I done..?!" he croaked, "Freya! Freya, please! I'm so..!"

Freya's lower lip started trembling as she slammed the door behind her. The cold rain hit her like a hammer as she walked down the dark streets of Burmecia.

Three soft knocks on the door brought Freya back to reality. She realized that she had been absentmindedly fidgeting with her worn-out wedding bangle while she was lost in her memories.

"Freya, darling, are you awake?" a familiar voice asked from the hallway.

"Garnet? Is that you?" the bedridden Burmecian answered, taken by surprise.

"Yes! May I come in?"

"Please, do!"

The queen of Alexandria cautiously entered the room. Freya's eyes widened when she realized that her old friend had brought her food and water in a silver tray.

"I-I don't mean to be ungrateful, Garnet, but... won't there be any problems if anyone sees you doing this?" the dragon knight asked.

"I don't care at all," the summoner answered. Freya smiled, realizing that good old Dagger was still in there.

"Zidane told me... about the consequences of my actions," the Burmecian said as the summoner set the tray down on a small side table, "What I did is unforgivable... I don't deserve your hospitality."

Garnet suddenly stopped what she was doing.

"... I'm going to get really angry if you don't stop talking nonsense, Freya." she said with an increasingly broken voice.

"Garnet... I..."

"They should have helped you..." the queen stated, her eyes starting to well up. "How could they stand idly by, watching them hurt you?! You! Whom they all owe their lives to! People make me sick lately..."

"... There were too many of them, and they were well armed. Intervening would have been suicidal." the dragoon rationalized.

"That never prevented us from doing the right thing, didn't it?" Garnet said, sitting beside her old friend, "Someone should have done something. Anything. I'm deeply ashamed about what happened..."

"Why? It wasn't your fault. I shouldn't have been there in the first place," Freya replied, her voice tinged with regret, "Stopping at that tavern instead of coming here immediately was a grave mistake."

"That's where you're wrong," the summoner replied, disappointed in herself. "Alexandria has always prided itself on being a place where women can come and go freely. It's my responsibility as a queen to ensure that."

"Oh... so that's what Zidane meant when he said that he understood what happened..." Freya thought. "Garnet, um... they didn't attack me out of... misogyny," she stammered, mustering the courage to tell her old friend that she had become an exile and a fugitive.

"What do you mean?"

"They tried to murder me because they think I'm a traitor... both to my kingdom and to my entire race." the Burmecian said, letting out a disheartened sigh.

"Huh..? How could they possibly believe that?!" Garnet asked, perplexed.

"... Prince Puck is dead, Garnet... and I tried, and failed, to kill the man who orchestrated his demise," Freya explained, lowering her eyes in shame. "... I'm sorry"

The summoner gasped and covered her mouth in horror. She stared at her friend in utter shock for a moment, unable to form a coherent thought.

"... Who did it?" she finally asked, trembling with rage.

"Chancellor Ulrich Fritjofsson," Freya replied, clenching her fists at the mere mention of his name. "... He will soon be appointed as Regent of Burmecia."

Garnet stood up without saying a word.

"... You are safe now. We will make sure of that," the sovereign declared after a brief moment of contemplation. She then turned around, and smiled gently at her old friend, "I can't compensate you enough for the horrors you have suffered, but you have my word: I'll do everything in my power to help you from now on."

"Thank you, Garnet... no words can express my gratitude." the Burmecian said, respectfully nodding her head.

"You should try to eat a little and rest yourself." the queen suggested, walking towards the door. "I'll come by later to check on you, okay?"

Having said that, she left the room, leaving Freya alone with her thoughts again.