The prisoner awoke.
Though it'd been a couple days since her capture, her surroundings remained the same: a disused storeroom in the back of Weynon Priory & Pub, the same place she'd attempted arson upon. Though it was dirty and cramped and lonely, it was still a significant step up from her last prison.
Edelgard sighed. Ruminating on such things was counterproductive and meaningless. Whatever happened before no longer mattered.
The door suddenly opened and in stepped her vanquisher, Byleth, the final heir of the bloodline that held the Empire together. And she was holding a tray of food.
"Hello Edelgard," she said. "I was hoping we could talk today."
Lilac eyes glared at her defiantly. The last time she'd spoken to the blunette was during their battle, when she'd begun hurling taunts and threats at the woman in an attempt to break her cool. But Edelgard had been the one broken in the end.
Byleth held up a crust of bread. "Eat?" she entreated.
Edelgard remained silent, refusing to off her even the satisfaction of writhing in her bonds.
After a while, Byleth lowered the food. "I'll leave this here then," she said, placing the tray down within Edelgard's reach. Much as she'd done every time she'd brought her food prior.
She sat on the floor opposite Edelgard, staring into her prisoner's glare unflinchingly. Minutes passed as they maintained their informal staring contest, until Byleth broke the silence once more.
"We'll be leaving soon. My father and I." There was no response, but Edelgard offered a minute tilt of her head. "Later today, actually. I plan to release you then."
"Foolish," spat Edelgard, finally. "If you do as you say I will take your head and return it to my master."
Byleth appeared unconcerned. "Perhaps. Objectively, you're correct that it is unwise to release you. But I want you to be free."
A dark chuckle fell from Edelgard's lips. "Free? I serve the Prince of Anarchy. I am always free." She presented her bonds. "Present circumstances excluded, of course."
"I wonder how true that is," mused the blunette.
Gnashing her teeth, Edelgard lashed out towards her, only her restraints stopping her from reaching her captor. "And just what would you even know of me?" she snarled.
Byleth looked at her, seeing her truly. "Only what you choose to tell me," she said softly.
"I have told you nothing," maintained Edelgard.
"You told me you serve the Prince of Anarchy," retorted Byleth.
"Nothing you didn't already know."
Byleth shook her head. "You claim you serve Nemesis. But his followers only call him the King of Liberation."
Edelgard stiffened, as if her body became brittle. Such blatant heresy was unbecoming. Was this her first infraction? Had she displayed as such previously?
Would there be consequences?
Leaning forward, Byleth gently took her hands. "Whatever your circumstances, I will hear them, if you are willing." She slowly undid the ties binding Edelgard's wrists before extending a hand. "Edelgard? Won't you help me help you be free?"
"Well, if it isn't my mercenary friend!" greeted Alois jovially as Shez met him in one of the parks dotting the Elven Gardens District. He gestured to the stone bench across from the one he was resting on. "Have a seat and let's catch up."
"Sounds good," agreed the mercenary. "I take it you were expecting me?"
The Knight of Seiros nodded. "You're here to help me look into leads surrounding our enemies," he confirmed. "A good thing too," he added with a sigh of relief, "I'm no good with all this cloak and dagger work."
"Cloak and dagger, huh?" mused Shez, idly wondering if she could get someone to pay her with a cloak and a dagger. She didn't much care for a cloak, but another weapon was always welcome.
Alois looked her over, a slight frown crossing his face as he noticed her footwear. "You're not wearing Sir Gilbert's boots," he noted.
"Hm? Oh yeah, I sold those off a long time ago," replied Shez. "They got me through the sewers but I didn't really need 'em after that."
"I… see." He coughed to get back himself on topic. "Anyway, since I don't have much of a head for internal investigation, I've brought in an old colleague of mine to assist our efforts. I'm actually meeting her here shortly."
"What do you mean internal investigation? You think there are infiltrators among us?"
Alois sighed. "With Empress Rhea and all her heirs dead, it only makes sense that the Knights of Seiros and the highest echelons of the Empire have been compromised. Even if they had a powerful seer, their operation shouldn't have gone so flawlessly."
"Agreed," interjected a new voice.
Both Knight and adventurer turned to see the lithe form of an archer, casually leaning against one of the park's stone walls as if she'd always been there. She idly balanced a dagger on the tip of a finger.
"Shamir, good to see you," smiled Alois. "This is Shez. She's here to help. Shez, this is Shamir, a former Knight of Seiros and a consummate professional in the arts of sneaking."
"Well met," greeted Shamir neutrally.
"Shamir, anything to report since we last spoke?" asked Alois.
The dark-haired woman nodded, sheathing her dagger fluidly as she gave them her full attention. "I've had my people looking into things. I've got names. The cleaning can start immediately."
"Good. Then I will leave you to it." He stood, clearly uncomfortable with the business of murder, even if it was necessary. "Let me know if you find anything else."
He walked off, leaving Shez and Shamir alone in the park. The purplette got to her feet. "Sounds like we got a plan. Lead the way."
"In a minute," delayed Shamir, turning her gaze on Shez. "A quick question, for my own sake. The Knights of Seiros were devastated in the attack on the Empress. Would you happen to know the fate of one named Catherine?"
"Catherine? Huh. Well, I did meet a Knight by that name, but I dunno if it's who you're thinking of."
"Describe her to me."
"Um, ok. Dark skin and blonde hair, angry and loud and brash, threatened to kill me for something beyond my control..."
Shamir sighed. "That's her. I don't suppose you know if she survived?"
"No, she died protecting the Empress." She paused. "Wouldn't Alois have told you?"
The former knight closed her eyes in remembrance, exhaling softly in memorial. "…No. Catherine and I didn't part on good terms. But it's fine. She died doing what she loved." She looked back to Shez. "I didn't even think I wanted to know until I saw you with her sword, Thunderbrand." She nodded to the weapon at Shez's side.
"It's my sword now," claimed Shez almost petulantly. "And its name is Ratslayer!"
A mirthful laugh broke free from Shamir's carefully cultivated stoicism, the archer placing a hand over her mouth to preserve her dignity. She calmed down momentarily with a wistful sigh. "She would have hated that."
Shez remained silent, a hand steady on Ratslayer in case Shamir wanted to take her sword.
But the archer truly didn't care. Pushing off the wall, she turned to leave, gesturing for Shez to follow. "Come on. Let's go do some housekeeping."
"…Do you mean sanctioned murder?"
Shamir sighed deeply. "Yes. I mean sanctioned murder."