Chapter 17 - The Price of Loyalty
As the moonlight leaked in through the open oriel windows of the master bedroom, the white
semi-transparent linen curtains were lit with a faint glow. A whisper of a breeze, carrying the
scent of rain-soaked earth and the promise of new growth, stirred the fabric, making them
dance like phantoms in the stillness. At the room's center lay Crusch Karsten, once a symbol
of unwavering strength.
She lay on the queen-sized bed stacked with three pillows under her head. She turned to the
window, feeling the gentle breeze. Breaking her unanimated pose—one that almost
resembled a body in a coffin—she reached for the wheelchair beside her bed.. She slowly
got up and placed herself on it, rolling it further towards the window, She sat in front of it in a
long black chemise nightgown with a pink ribbon tied on her waist. Her body felt cold as she
despised her inability to move freely, She felt like a burden to those who had placed their
hopes in her. "They must be disappointed."
"They are just being polite and not saying it to my face, I notice it every day, how wary are
they whenever they are around me"
"They try to be very careful when interacting with me"
"Who was I? Who was this magnificent Crusch Karsten in everyone's eyes?" As she spoke
to herself, her head felt dizzy as the moonlight kept getting brighter and brighter. She raised
her palm in an effort to block her vision from the abnormally bright light, but she failed, her
vision became blurry, She tripped off her wheelchair in panic. She lost consciousness.
"Crusch. A fine name. It fits your gallant and noble bearing." The golden-haired prince spoke
with sincerity in his eyes.
"Your Highness is too kind. But I thank you." Crusch gratefully thanked him in return.
As She opened her eyes, tears found their way through her eyes.
She broke a smile and slowly got up, and she sat on the floor cushioned with a handwoven
silk carpet with golden lining, with the strength of her forearms. As she recalled more of her
memories.
The golden-haired prince turned to the flower bed and pointed to the immature bud in the
corner. "I do not know what you were seeing, but when you looked at that sprout I knew your
heart. Because, I am sure, it is the same as mine!"
"S-so… So don't blame yourself for being different from others. It means nothing, and it is
unimportant. We may have our differences, but if we see the same beauty in the same
things, then all will go well for us!" Fourier thrust his fist into the air, exclaiming,
"How about that?" in a show of excitement. Crusch was wide-eyed, overwhelmed by his
ardor. Silently, as if drawn along, she looked at the flower bed, too.
Crusch broke a smile as her face glowed brightly under the beautiful moonlight her golden
eyes now shined like the ones Crusch Karsten had, her fierce gaze was that of a lion, It
wasn't a surprise anymore as this was the conclusion.
(CRUSCH KARSTEN'S MEMORIES RETURNED)
"You were right, Fourier" She spoke in a reminiscing tone. She clenched her chest, Her heart
ached as if it was wrapped with thorns. As she closed her eyes unwilling to relive the
memories that scared her. Even if it made her who she is today, those memories still cut her
like a sharp dagger aimed at her heart.
Yet it did little to quell the turmoil churning within. Her memories had returned—every
fragment, every pain, every unspoken regret. The weight of realization pressed against her
chest, constricting her breath. Fourier's laughter, his warmth, his unwavering kindness—they
had all been taken from her. She had lost him, just as she had lost so much more.
Fourier smiled as if he were somehow proud of himself and raised his hand. He brushed
Crusch's cheek, touching the hot tears that flowed down it, and traced his fingers along the
line of her lips.
"Crusch."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"I…lo…" There came a gust, a cold wind that tugged at Fourier's and Crusch's hair.
"Your Highness?"
"Your Highness, are you tired?"
"Your Highness, I know how you've worked and struggled. Please, rest peacefully."
"One last thing…" The breeze continued to blow. But with her blurring vision, Crusch didn't
see it, not even with her blessing. There, in the garden, Crusch held Fourier close and
whispered.
"I wish I could have seen the future you dreamed of…"
Not only was she naive and unable to conclude her feelings for the late prince, but she also
failed to take revenge on the accursed dragon that was supposed to protect the kingdom
and the royal family. Her hatred for the divine dragon had never died since that day. She was
again fueled with the same will and had the memories of herself, her true self. She felt the
shortly extinguished flame in her light up again and this time even far more ablaze than any
fire spirit to roam the lands of the kingdom.
Her fingers trembled as she reached for the wheelchair beside her bed. Moving felt foreign,
as though her body no longer belonged to her. Once, she had commanded the battlefield
with strength and grace. Now, she struggled to even stand. The thought clawed at her pride,
leaving behind a festering wound of frustration.
She forced herself forward, gripping the armrest as she shifted her weight. Pain flared in her
weakened limbs, but she refused to falter. She wouldn't be a burden. Not to her people. Not
to Wilhelm. Not to Ferris. And certainly not to herself.
As she adjusted in the chair, her gaze flickered toward the full moon outside. It was an eerie
silver, distant yet all-seeing, casting an ethereal glow upon the room. She closed her eyes,
willing herself to be strong. But even with the return of her memories, she felt hollow.
"Fourier... would you have scolded me for this weakness?" she murmured, the words barely
audible., huffing due to loss of breath. "While searching for her scarf, her hand brushed
against a white hair ribbon lying beside the bed. A flood of memories washed over her."
She always kept her hair neat and tied, but her interactions with the late prince changed her.
"I never knew. Why did you stop tying it up?" Until I realized why.
"His Highness told me to be faithful to myself. So that was what I did." She turned her
wheelchair towards the door as she placed the ribbon back in the drawer, wiping away her
tears, she put on her scarf and moved out of the door with both excitement and joy to report
to the rest of her camp that her memories have returned. Her mind played the sweet smile of
Felix "Oh how happy he would be to realize my memories have returned" She thought.
She opened the door, moving towards the maid's quarters to alert the others, But to her
surprise, the maids were all in a panic as soon as she entered, Each and every one of them
stood silently they recalled the aura she carried before her memories were eaten. In front of
them stood the glorious Royale selection candidate Crusch Karsten, the lady of the manor
who they once served was back, and it wasn't needed to be spoken to them.
"What is all this chaos about?" She asked in her commanding voice As she demanded an
immediate response.
"Crusch-sama, w..we have visitors" A maid replied to her.
"Visitors? At this hour?" She added in a confusing tone as she rolled her wheelchair and
moved towards the guest room by herself.
"Crusch-sama, Let me-"
"There is no need for it"
The maid ran to her aid to guide her wheelchair toward the guest room But was swiftly cut
off by Crusch, who was now more determined than ever with the sudden adrenaline
pumping in her body, she reached the guest room on the ground floor of the manor. To
enable swift movement for her, the manor was equipped with a special contraption akin to
that of the modern-day stair-lift. She flung the door open to confront the uninvited visitors
who hailed on them in the dead of the night. But what she witnessed was something
unthinkable. Wilhelm with his sword unsheathed aims at Felix to cut him down, Wilhelm
gaze, those fierce-looking eyes that she last saw when he fought the whale. The eyes of a
person who was determined to cut down anything or anyone that becomes an obstacle for
him.
Crusch noticed his grip clenching his sword as if he was facing some sort of dilemma in his
mind, "But what what was it?"
"How did this scenario come into play to begin with?" As the thoughts ran into her mind. She
hesitated no more moving towards them as she screamed in her commanding voice.
"Wilhelm!"
"Ferris!"
"What is the meaning of this?"
Wilhelm recoiled, his glare still fixed on Felix, who stood with a mournful expression.
Crusch's mind raced, trying to piece together the events that had led to this confrontation.
She scanned the room, noticing Reinhardt slumped beside the bed, his shoulders slumped,
his posture radiating despair. The sight shocked her. The emotionless Sword Saint,
displaying such raw emotion? Her concern deepened as she moved closer, Felix shrinking
away as if ashamed to face her. She scanned the room to notice Rienhardt seated beside
the bed with his chest and shoulders leaning low. Something that was even more surprising
to Crusch, The sword saint to be in such a state, her expression turned to that of anger as
she moved further towards the bed, She had her worries about what she might witness.
As She moved in closer Felix with his gaze lowered by shame and regret, Moved farther
away from her way. He felt disgusted with himself as he didn't want his lady to witness him in
such a state. He clenched his fists as he was sweating, his body felt hot. Something was
boiling in him. He felt short to notice such emotion developing in him; It was hatred,
unfiltered hate toward himself.
Crusch moved in closer…..She felt a wave of shock hit her as she noticed Julius lying
unconscious on the bed. Her jaw opened wide as she was confused looking at the state he
was in, His fingers and face were swollen to the point his skin, once pale turned blue. His
body looked stiff as if he was frozen solid. Crusch's immediate thought process was to look
at Felix, She commanded him to bring in more healers.
She remembered both Felix and Julius were assigned to interrogate the witch cultist, "Can
he be the cause of this?" She thought. Unaware of the complete situation. Her reports were
limited to not letting her worry. She was only aware of her knight in charge of questioning the
vile witch cultist for a cure for the dragon blood that took away her freedom.
"Ferris! Now" Felix snapped from his self-loathing as she heard her lady's words like a lion
roar. He knew it was his lady the glorious Crusch Karsten. He had a hint of happiness in him
as his eyes began tearing up. He ran out of the room to alert the guards to bring in more
healers.
Wilhelm stood there silent, He had no words to express his dissatisfaction towards the cat
boy healer, Of course, he thought of him as a friend more than a colleague at work in the
same camp, But his mind couldn't get of the fact that he willingly decided to torture Subaru,
The boy he respected and viewed him as his own grandson. "For him to meet such a fate"
He gritted his teeth as he took a deep breath to calm himself down, Wilhelm, silent until now,
bowed to Crusch. "Lady Crusch, I beg your pardon for this disgraceful display. I would ask
for some time to myself."
Crusch hesitated. She needed answers, but she could see the turmoil raging within
Wilhelm. She nodded, understanding that he needed time to process whatever had
transpired.
"I apologize for the disgraceful display you had to witness"
He needed to collect his emotion and not let his emotion run rampant.
She now looked at the slumped-over Rienhardt who was silent for the entire interaction.
"Rienhardt, Tell me what happened?" Cursch asked with concern for his mental state as he
displayed an emotion of regret, it came to her as a shock that the once emotionless Sword
Saint was even capable of displaying such vivid emotions.
As Cursch prompted for an answer Wilhelm while moving out of the room turned to take a
look at his grandson with a pitiful look as he finally walked out leaving his lady with Rienhardt
and the maids who nursed Julius.
As Crusch asked Rienhardt once more "Rienhardt!"
"What caused this, Was it the witch cultist?"
Reinhardt remained silent, his lips trembling. He wanted to defend Subaru, to deny the
accusations, but the words caught in his throat, choked by the weight of his own perceived
failure. Subaru… my friend… how could…? He felt a crushing weight of responsibility, the
burden of the Sword Saint's title pressing down on him. Finally, he managed to whisper, "I
failed him. I knew I wasn't fit to be the Sword Saint"
Cursch was in shock "What are you even saying?"
Reinhardt again fell short of words to describe his failure. She knew his honesty thanks to
her divine blessing of wind reading.
She turned back to one of the maids and ordered her "Alert the guards!"
"Tell them to report to the royale guards about the attack from the witch cult" This was what
she suspected to be the trigger for the scenario.
"NO!"
Reinhardt stood straight up stumbling on his chair. He then noticed the shocked face of
everyone in the room as he again turned his gaze down, He clenched his fist as he spoke.
"It wasn't the witch cultist"
"What do you mean, Reinhardt?" Crusch was now glaring at Rienhardt, she needed answers
she had enough of this.
"...La….Lady Crusch"
All eyes now turned towards Julius who was struggling to speak due to his swollen face.
"JULIUS!"
"It's ok, You do not need to"
"Ri…enhardt"
"Its…ok, I…..w..was the one…to…c…cause…d this"
Reinhardt stopped speaking as he couldn't say anything in response. He knew Crusch would
eventually know the truth due to her blessing so it was useless to make excuses.
"Th…..ere. Was….n…nev….er a witch …cu…ltist?'
"it…..w…..as.. Na….s….tuki …..Su…..subaru"
"JULIUS!"
Reinhardt screamed as Julius used the last bit of his strength he passed out again, Soon
came in rushing the healers led by Felix who all gathered around the bed where Julius's
unconscious body layed.
Felix was trembling at the sight he didn't want to lose another friend who he fought side by
side as allies.
Cursch's eyes opened wide as her brain recalled all the memories of the young boy who she
fought together with to defeat the white whale. The boy who was so weak yet so brave to
charge into battle against the whale without anything holding him back.
That boy being the witch cultist imprisoned was something that she would never believe after
all Subaru was hunting down the rest of the Archbishops one by one, "Why would he kill his
own accomplices?" but She knew Julius was not lying as he wind reading wasn't acting up
on the words that left Julius mouth.
She looked towards Felix for answers "Ferris!"
Felix, consumed by shame, refused to meet Crusch's eyes. "It's true, Crusch-sama," he
whispered, "Your Wind Reading speaks the truth. I… I interrogated him. He was wrongly
accused – of being the Sin Archbishop of Pride."
Crusch's eyes widened. "Where is he?" she demanded, her voice laced with urgency.
"Where is Natsuki Subaru?"
"I don't know," Felix confessed, his voice barely audible.
"Ferris!" Crusch's voice cracked like a whip.
"Emilia-sama," Felix stammered, "She… she took him. She seems to have her memories
back. She broke into the prison…"
Reinhardt then explained the rest to the stunned Crusch.
a few hours ago at the Karsten Manor
Wilhelm's voice, rough and urgent, cut through the tense quiet of the corridors of the manor.
"Reinhardt, take Julius to the guest room down the hall." He didn't wait for a response,
already turning and striding out, his footsteps echoing through the manor. "I need to find
Ferris," he muttered, the words laced with a grimness that sent a shiver down Reinhardt's
spine.
He finally found Felix in his medical room, meticulously cleaning his instruments. The
gleaming metal of the tools contrasted sharply with the faint, coppery tang that still hung
heavy in the air, a testament to the interrogation that had taken place. Felix looked up, his
eyes meeting Wilhelm's.
Felix's eyes were bloodshot from exhaustion, his hair a tangled mess. He met Wilhelm's
serious gaze, a premonition of disaster tightening in his chest.
"Felix-dono!"
"We need your immediate presence"
Upon hearing Wilhelm's worries he immediately followed him leaving all his tools
unattended. His mind ran all possible reasons but to him, none came to solidify the reason.
Upon entering the guest room, Felix collapsed to his knees, unable to bear the sight of
Julius. His mind went blank.
"Felix-dono!" Wilhelm's voice ripped through his daze. He stumbled towards Julius, his heart
a lead weight in his chest. But the sight of his friend, broken and still, triggered a violent shift
within him. The memory of Julius's duty—the execution of Pride—was a spark in a powder
keg. His concern twisted into something ugly, something primal. His breath hitched, and a
tremor ran through his body as a wave of pure, unadulterated rage washed over him. That
disgusting witch worshipper! he roared silently, his jaw clenching so hard his teeth ached.
He would tear him apart.
His gaze shifted to Reinhardt, his voice tight with barely controlled rage. "Who did this?"He
was ready to place the blame, even as a small voice whispered that he might be wrong. The
witch cultist… it had to be them. But… could they have broken out again? And attacked
Julius?"
Reinhardt knew the answer, but the words felt like lead in his throat. He hesitated, the
silence in the room growing thick with tension.
"Reinhardt!" Wilhelm's voice, cutting through the quiet, demanded an answer. "Who did
this?" Reinhardt flinched, the weight of their combined gaze pressing down on him.
"It wasn't… who we suspected," Reinhardt finally managed, his voice strained. The silence
that followed was heavy, pregnant with unspoken questions. He took a breath, the air
crackling with anticipation.
"What do you mean?" Felix's voice was sharp, laced with growing anger.
"You're saying an innocent man did this to Julius?" Tears streamed down Felix's face, his
question more an accusation than a plea for information.
"Yes," Reinhardt confirmed, the single word echoing in the tense quiet. Felix's eyes blazed
with fury as he glared at Reinhardt. "I know you're still caught up on him not being a witch
cultist nonsense," he hissed, "but I won't let you interfere with what needs to be done."
Wilhelm, his expression grim, listened intently. He'd known Reinhardt's emotional
intelligence was… lacking, but this level of denial was shocking.
"I failed him," Reinhardt whispered, his voice thick with regret. "I should have insisted on a
trial. This… this wouldn't have happened."
Felix, momentarily distracted from his anger, turned to Reinhardt, a flicker of confusion in his
eyes. "Why are you so insistent on this trial?" he asked, his voice laced with suspicion. "It's
like you… you knew him." He hesitated, the unspoken thought hanging heavy in the air.
"Like a close friend?"
Reinhardt's composure finally crumbled. "Yes," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "He
was my friend." A friend I betrayed, he thought, the guilt a crushing weight. The room fell
silent as everyone struggled to process this unexpected revelation.
Then, Reinhardt spoke, his voice trembling with the force of his confession. "The accused…
was Natsuki Subaru."
"Natsuki Subaru." The name echoed through the room, a death knell tolling for Felix's
innocence. The silence that followed was crushing, the weight of the name pressing down
on him, suffocating him with guilt. It wasn't just a name; it was the sum total of his actions,
his shame laid bare.
The name was a jolt, a lightning strike that illuminated the dark corners of his memory.
Suddenly, he saw it all: Subaru's selfless act, his willingness to share Crusch-sama's burden.
And then, the agonizing reminder of his own impotence, his failure to be of any real help.
"No, this can't be!" he gasped, his voice choked with disbelief.
Subaru's awkward jokes, his clumsy stabs at heroism, the sheer, unexpected grit he'd
displayed against the White Whale… they all came flooding back. This… this is the man I
tortured? The thought landed like a gut punch, stealing his breath. His mind replayed the
interrogation room scene: the cold glint of the instruments, the precise, calculated pain he'd
inflicted, each time he would use his silence due to lack of breath as an excuse to jolt him
awake with his technique of boiling the blood inside a person's body.
"Necessary," he'd told himself then. "For Crusch-sama. For the good of the camp". The
words now tasted like bile running up his mouth.
"Crusch-sama… everything I am, everything I have, I owe to her". She'd taken him in, given
him purpose, and shown him a kindness he didn't deserve. And he'd repaid her savior by…
this?
The image of Subaru's broken body was seared into his mind. Torn flesh. Shattered bones.
Eyes frozen in eternal agony. He buried his face in his hands, the gesture a desperate
attempt to shut out the memories, the guilt. He knew, with chilling certainty, that what he'd
done was unforgivable.
Amidst Felix's internal storm of guilt and regret, a voice, fragile and strained, cut through the
chaos.
"Fe…l…ix…" It was Julius, struggling to speak through his swollen face, the words barely
intelligible, a testament to his injuries.
"I…did it…I killed him…with my own judgment." The words, barely audible, confirmed Felix's
worst fears. He'd known, deep down, what had happened, but hearing it spoken aloud, so
stark and final, was a different kind of pain.
Felix's hands trembled as he held them close to his chest. "Subaru always got back up,
y'know? Every damn time. Even when he shouldn't have..." A shuddering breath. "So why...
why is he—"
The words choked in Felix's throat. He couldn't say it. He couldn't bring himself to
acknowledge it.
Reinhard finally stopped, his gaze turning toward Felix. "Because he wasn't given the
chance."
For Wilhelm, Subaru's name had been a blessing, a gift from Od itself. The boy he'd come
to see as a grandson, the one who'd helped him finally avenge his wife's death at the hands
of the White Whale. Now, that same name was a curse, a reminder of brutal loss. Not only
was Subaru gone, but he'd been killed by their own allies. The injustice of it fueled Wilhelm's
rage. He'd lost not just a valuable ally, but the one person he'd hoped to repay for the
immeasurable debt he owed him – the debt of the pact, the debt of the White Whale's
location. Now, that repayment was forever beyond his reach.
"This was for Crusch-sama," he murmured, clinging to the justification like a lifeline.
"I just wanted to help… the one person who means everything to me." He searched for a
way out of the horror. "It's Gluttony… it has to be." The truth hit him, a cold, brutal wave.
"No… I killed a friend."
*Slash!*
The sound echoed through the room as Wilhelm's unsheathed sword flashed towards Felix.
Hearing those words spill from Felix's lips, confirming his worst fears, ignited a white-hot
rage within him. He knew this wasn't just interrogation; it was torture, vile and brutal. The
bloodstained tools Felix carried back from the prison each day, the charts filled with
anatomical details… they were all too clearly a testament to the horrors that had transpired.
The revelation hung in the air, a shockwave that silenced the manor. Maids and healers
alike recognized the name: Natsuki Subaru, the hero of Pristella. For Crusch, the name was
a dagger twisting in her heart. Rage warred with a deep, aching sorrow. "This brave boy,
this ally who had fought beside her, who had eased tensions between the camps, who had
helped them defeat the White Whale… betrayed by her own knight?" The thought was a
crushing blow.
She'd felt… something for Subaru. Not the fierce loyalty she felt for her own knights, but a
quiet sense of comfort in his presence, a strange familiarity that reminded her of the late
prince. She remembered the calming effect he had on her, the way his personality echoed
Fourier's in some inexplicable way. Those feelings, she knew, were now shattered, lost in
the wreckage of this betrayal. The consequences were clear: chaos, a consuming fire that
would engulf every camp, every civilian. She knew she had to confront Emilia. But how?
How could she face her after what her own knight had done?
The confrontation was unavoidable.
"Felix!" she commanded, her voice strained, the tension making beads of sweat appear on
her brow. "I need you to use every possible means at your disposal. Heal Julius." The words
were clipped, urgent, reflecting the turmoil within her.
With the focus now on healing Julius, the grim expressions of everyone in the room were
palpable. Even the maids, though hesitant to approach Felix, weren't acting out of protest,
but sheer terror. The revelations had instilled a deep fear in them. As the night deepened,
the full moon vanished behind a curtain of clouds, a symbolic ending to the brief, bright
legacy of the holder of the Blue.