Chapter X:
Family Meeting
Felt hated lessons.
She came to this conclusion almost immediately. Being forced into studies was bad enough, but in her case, it was literal imprisonment.
Nearly a month had passed since she'd become Reinhard's "guest," and every second of it had been unbearable. First, there were the dresses—frilly, delicate things cinched so tight Felt was convinced the designers thought breathing was optional. Then came the heels, those Dragon-cursed contraptions that made walking a battle in itself.
It was enough to make her want to scream, kick, and punch someone—which she had, more than once. But that hag Carol had an infuriating countermeasure: her expert, merciless ear-pinching. Felt was certain that by now, her right earlobe had stretched twice as long as her left. Just the threat of another tug sent a shiver down her spine.
The only thing keeping her sane was the promise that she would soon see Subaru and Rom again. Once this ridiculous business at the palace—or whatever it was—was done, she'd return to her normal life with her family. Whatever the Sword Saint expected of her, he wasn't getting it.
"Are you paying attention, Felt?" Carol's sharp voice cut through her thoughts, making her sit up straighter.
"What? Yeah, sure," Felt sighed, barely looking at the book in front of her. They'd been going over the names and family crests of the snobs who ruled Lugunica.
Grimm, standing beside her, let out a quiet sigh and leaned in so only she could hear. "My Lady, you must take this seriously," he rasped.
Felt glanced at him, guilt creeping in. Grimm rarely spoke, choosing instead to communicate through notes. If he used his voice, it was to drive a point home. She suspected it was a calculated guilt trip, and damn it, it worked on her every time.
"Oh, alright," she muttered, looking at the blue-and-gray pattern in the book. "That's the Olsen family crest…"
"Very good," Carol acknowledged with a curt nod.
Before they could continue, the door opened, and Flam and Garassis entered with a bow. "Tea is ready, Grandmother," they announced in unison.
Felt barely held back a groan. Tea and biscuits sounded fine in theory, but for her, they meant enduring another agonizing hour of "proper etiquette." No slouching, no loud chewing, no gulping, no improper stirring, and Dragon forbid she set the cup down with anything less than grace. It was exhausting.
"Very good. Lady Felt, attend me," Carol commanded, snapping Nobility and Their Coat of Arms shut with finality.
Tea was as dull as ever. Flam and Garassis stood nearby, heads bowed, while Carol monitored her every move with the intensity of a hawk. Felt had never considered posture important for drinking a liquid, but Carol ranked it just above breathing.
"A little taller—don't slouch now. That's it," Carol instructed, nodding in satisfaction as Felt adjusted.
"What's the point of a backrest if I can't use it?" Felt mumbled under her breath, taking the daintiest sip she could manage, all the while simmering inside.
"I have ears, you know," Carol snapped, shooting her a look. "And tea with guests is a formal event. If you are to appear as a Lady, you must act like one. That includes not muttering under your breath."
Felt bit the inside of her cheek, resisting the urge to hurl the teacup across the room and make another run for it.
She had tried to escape—twice. But Carol, Grimm, and even Reinhard—that one time—had caught her.
Her escape attempts weren't serious, per se. She would've come back… eventually. But the sheer frustration of it all made her want to test the limits.
And the worst part? She was learning.
The realization made her feel dirty. She was passing as a Lady, even if just barely. She'd never imagined herself as one of those stuck-up nobles from the Royal District, yet here she was, being turned into one by her so-called "hosts."
The doors to the drawing room clicked open, and Reinhard swept inside with his usual effortless grace. Felt shot him her customary glare but begrudgingly returned her attention to her tea. She reached for a biscuit, making sure to take small, precise bites. The last time she'd taken too large a mouthful, Carol had made her practice eating biscuits properly until her stomach ached.
"Ah, there she is," Reinhard greeted warmly.
"If it isn't—" Felt started with a grumble before catching Carol's sharp, warning glance. With great effort, she forced herself to sit up straighter and clear her throat. "I mean… welcome home."
Reinhard chuckled, clearly amused. "This Saturday is the big day. It seems you've made some good progress this week."
"If by progress, you mean mastering the art of eating biscuits, apparently I'm still a work in progress," Felt muttered, deliberately avoiding Carol's disapproving stare.
"Well, that's ultimately secondary," Reinhard said easily. "You look the part, and for now, that's all that matters."
"Speaking of," Felt set her food aside carefully, ensuring no crumbs fell astray—she had no desire to give Carol another excuse for a lecture. "Where are Subaru and Rom?"
"Lord Roswaal is expected to arrive in the capital tomorrow," Reinhard answered smoothly. "Lady Emilia will be attending the Palace as well."
Felt frowned. "Can't I see them before this whole fiasco? If I had to bet, they'll be banging down your door the second they get back."
"Likely," Reinhard admitted with a small smile. "But we have matters to prepare for, and Lady Emilia will have her obligations. That said, I see no issue in arranging a meeting beforehand. I'll send a message to Lord Roswaal requesting a private audience before the Selection."
A deliberate ahem cut through the conversation. Both Felt and Reinhard turned to find Carol fixing the young Sword Saint with an expectant stare.
"Young master, I must remind you of what we discussed earlier," Carol intoned, her voice crisp with meaning.
Reinhard arched a brow. "We can speak further about that in private."
Carol pursed her lips before shaking her head. "I must insist you inform her now. If I may overstep for a moment, I will. It would not do for her to learn the true nature of the Selection from her friends—who, doubtless, are already far better informed than she is at present."
Felt leaned forward slightly, her interest finally piqued. For once, she found herself silently rooting for Carol. Ever since she had first heard about the Selection, curiosity had gnawed at her, but no amount of prying had revealed anything useful. Not even Flam or Garassis had slipped up, and she'd been certain at least one of them would crack if she pressed hard enough.
Reinhard let out a sigh in response to Carol's insistence. "Maybe you're right. I will need to delay their reunion until after the Selection."
That was not what Felt had been hoping to hear. Without thinking, she shot up from her seat and hurled her teacup straight at Reinhard's stupid, ever-composed face.
To her further irritation, the knight plucked the cup cleanly out of the air, not spilling so much as a drop of tea onto his pristine uniform. Felt clenched her fists—he could at least pretend to be human.
"Don't you dare!" she snapped. "Otherwise, I'll just—ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch!" She yelped as Carol's fingers latched onto her left ear and twisted with merciless precision.
"Ladies do not throw things when they are displeased," Carol said primly, only releasing her grip once she was satisfied with Felt's suffering.
Felt grumbled, rubbing her stinging ear. "Yeah, but he deserved it."
"In this particular case, I must agree with the young lady's frustration," Carol sighed, ignoring Felt's triumphant smirk. "The fact remains, young master, that I can teach her all you like, but this one—" she shot Felt a pointed glance—"will fly off the handle if not motivated properly."
Felt huffed at the remark, though she couldn't exactly argue. If Reinhard thought keeping her from Subaru and Rom was a good idea, she would absolutely make his precious Selection an absolute nightmare for him.
"Very well," Reinhard finally relented, looking somewhat resigned. "I will defer to your wisdom. Sit, please."
Felt eyed him warily but slowly lowered herself back into her seat, shooting a smug look at Carol when the old woman didn't immediately scold her posture.
"Flam, dear," Carol addressed the maid smoothly, "fetch the young master a fresh cup of tea. And do see that the young lady's cup is repaired."
"Yes, grandmother," Flam said, bowing before quickly moving to carry out her orders.
Only once Reinhard was sipping a fresh cup and Felt had been properly readjusted into a more "ladylike" sitting position, did he finally fix her with a long, measured look.
"The Royal Selection," Reinhard said calmly. "You are one of five candidates to become the next ruler of the kingdom."
Felt stared at him. Blinked. Waited for the punchline. When none came, she blinked again.
"You're joking." Her voice was cold, flat. "You have to be joking."
"No, I am quite serious." Reinhard sipped his tea, completely unbothered. "Ah—very good brew. Thank you, Flam."
"You are welcome, sir," Flam said with a bow.
"Ignoring the tea for a moment—" Felt growled, though she reluctantly agreed it was good, "—could you maybe elaborate!?"
"This is why I didn't think it was prudent to tell her now," Reinhard sighed.
"I'll show you prudent, you utter—" Felt caught herself just in time, painfully aware of Carol's laser-focused presence. "You utter… utter meanie!"
The Sword Saint let out a long, weary sigh. "I told you before—the insignia chose you. I firmly believe fate brought us together, and more than that, I truly believe you are destined to be the next ruler of this nation."
And just like that, the last few weeks suddenly made way too much sense. The lessons, the etiquette drills, the endless corrections, the absurd dresses, the damn heels. All because Reinhard—this lunatic—had gotten it into his head that just because the insignia in her pocket had glowed a little, she was somehow meant to be queen.
It was absolute, utter, flaming garbage.
"Yeah?" Felt crossed her arms, eyes burning with defiance. "Well, I have no interest in this stupid kingdom—or being in charge of it."
Reinhard opened his mouth, but she barreled on.
"In case any of you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly a lady. And I sure as hell don't want to spend the rest of my life surrounded by a bunch of stuck-up nobles who wouldn't have given me a second glance a month ago!"
Reinhard sighed, shaking his head as if he had expected this reaction. "I had a feeling this would happen. But the issue isn't how the nobility sees you. Though," he added, "earning the favor of a few key figures would be beneficial."
"I don't need to earn shit! I don't—"
"Language, young lady," Carol's sharp tone cut through Felt's frustration like a knife.
Felt clenched her jaw. She wanted nothing more than to tell Carol to shove it, but she was more afraid of the old hag than she was of Reinhard. Grinding her teeth, she muttered, "Yes, ma'am," before snapping her gaze back to the knight. "But I meant what I said. I don't care about these people. I've told you—the moment I can put this behind me, I will."
A quiet, gruff sound of a throat clearing made Felt glance up. Grimm had entered the room without her noticing—a talent of his, no doubt. The old man handed Garassis a note, and the girl quickly scanned the parchment before looking up.
"Grandfather says: It would be best to speak of the reason why she should consider the Selection, and that a meeting with family might be beneficial to our cause," Garassis read aloud. Once finished, Grimm gave her head a soft pat, and the girl practically melted under the gesture.
"Well put, husband," Carol murmured approvingly, her expression briefly softening in a way that surprised Felt.
Reinhard, however, looked unconvinced. "Very well. I'll do my best to arrange a meeting here." His tone made it clear he wasn't entirely on board with the idea.
"Good," Felt said, relieved at some victory. She set her teacup down and stretched. "Now, I want to go take a nap. My head hurts."
Carol's sharp eyes narrowed. "Phantom headaches again?" she asked suspiciously.
Felt stiffened.
"You have a schedule to keep," Carol continued, already turning to Flum. "Flum, fetch the herbs. Our young lady seems to need medicine again."
Felt paled. The last time it had been a fake stomachache, Flum had practically drowned her in a bucket of that vile, bitter green sludge.
"On second thought," Felt blurted, her voice suddenly chipper, "we had geography lessons next, right?"
Carol smirked knowingly. "That's what I thought."
The evening of the next day, Felt paced the halls in a huff. Reinhard had given his word that he would arrange a meeting with Subaru and Rom, and she was more than ready to see them. In fact, the moment they arrived, she had a plan—she was going to force that red-haired thug of a knight to let them stay with her. There was no good reason for them to have been left behind while she was trapped in this glorified prison.
If Subaru had been around from the start, she probably would have escaped ages ago. He was always good at that sort of thing. More than once, she had managed to slip out of a tight spot because of him—though she'd never admit that out loud.
"My lady," Flam's voice called from behind her.
Felt spun on her heel. "Yeah, what is it?" she asked impatiently.
"The members of Lord Roswaal's household have arrived," Flam informed her with a little bow.
"They're not part of any Lord's household," Felt muttered under her breath, but excitement bubbled in her chest regardless.
Without another word, she spun around and took off down the hall. She was nearly halfway to the grand staircase when a familiar ahem made her skid to a halt.
Grimm stood in her path, arms crossed, offering her a patient but pointed look. "Young lady," he said in his usual strained, quiet voice, "please, do not run in such attire. It is… ungraceful."
Felt huffed but stopped herself from arguing. She actually liked Grimm, and as much as she wanted to ignore all the stupid etiquette lessons, she had been hearing Carol's nagging voice in her head whenever she slipped up. Begrudgingly, she slowed her pace and made her way properly onto the grand staircase.
From her vantage point, she immediately spotted four people gathered in the foyer below.
The first was the half-elf Lady Emilia—who was busy talking with Reinhard, her silvery hair catching the light as she moved. Beside her stood a blue-haired maid in uniform, her face unreadable. But more importantly, her eyes landed on the two people she actually cared about: Rom and Subaru.
Rom, as expected, was dressed in the same style of clothing he always wore—though, to her surprise, his outfit was new. New. Vibrant blues and reds replaced his usual tattered garb, courtesy of Roswaal, no doubt. Seeing him in anything clean was strange enough, let alone something that actually fit him.
But Subaru—he had undergone a complete transformation.
Gone were his work clothes and rough edges. He was dressed like a full-fledged noble—black trousers, a luxurious dress shirt, polished shoes, and even a fine belt with a sword at his hip. It was so bizarre that for a moment, Felt hardly recognized him.
Subaru was the first to look up and spot her. His expression twisted into pure shock.
"Felt?"
"Who else would I be?!" Felt snapped, already annoyed by his lack of certainty.
Then she saw it—the moment of realization hitting him like a bolt of lightning.
His eyes widened. "By the Dragon… you're in a dress?!"
Rom turned and glanced up at her too, his thick brows raising in surprise.
Felt blinked. Then she looked down at herself.
Shit.
In her frustration and anticipation, she had completely forgotten she was wearing one of those ridiculous noble dresses. She had gotten so used to the layers of frills and tight corsets over the last few weeks that they had become background noise—until now.
Mortified, she let out a sharp curse under her breath and immediately tried to hide behind the railing of the grand staircase.
"W-well, it wasn't my idea!" she sputtered hastily, her face burning. "It's not like I enjoy looking like this. Hey—quit grinning, dumbass!"
Sure enough, Subaru's lips were twitching like he was dying to burst out laughing. His shoulders even shook a little, and Felt could practically hear the teasing remarks forming in his head.
She scowled. Oh, hell no.
Abandoning any shred of grace Carol had drilled into her, Felt stormed down the stairs, fully prepared to wipe that smirk off Subaru's face.
"Listen here, you utter—"
"Manners," a sharp, all-too-familiar voice rang out.
Felt froze mid-step.
Carol had entered the room, Garassis following closely behind, the old woman's gaze razor-sharp.
Felt stiffened like a board, her previous fury instantly snuffed out.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Subaru lose it.
Her fists clenched as his barely contained laughter finally spilled out.
Oh, she was so going to kill him later.
"Felt, it's good to see you again," Emilia greeted warmly, her voice as gentle as ever.
"What? Oh, umm—" Felt's brain scrambled for the right response, painfully aware of Carol watching her like a hawk. After a quick mental review of her dreaded etiquette lessons, she forced herself to straighten up. "It's good to make your acquaintance again as well… Lady Emilia."
Carol gave a slight nod of approval, while Subaru—red in the face from suppressing his laughter—looked way too amused for his own good. Rom, in contrast, simply studied her with a raised brow.
Felt clenched her jaw. He thinks this is funny?
Without missing a beat, she stepped closer to Subaru and, when Carol turned her attention elsewhere, drove the sharp heel of her shoe into his foot.
Subaru let out a strangled noise, barely holding in a cry of pain, his smirk instantly wiped off his face.
Satisfied, Felt shot him a smirk of her own. That's just the beginning, big bro.
"I must say, I didn't think dresses would be your thing," Emilia said, clearly unaware of the silent sibling war going on, "but I do think yellow is your color."
"Thanks, I guess," Felt muttered, looking down at the frilly yellow fabric with disdain. The sooner I'm out of this, the better.
Subaru, who had recovered from both his laughter and his injury, turned his attention to Reinhard. "I take it since Felt is… well… dressed like a lady, that she's not in any trouble?"
Felt scoffed. "Oh, I'm in trouble, alright. This—" She caught Carol's sharp glare and quickly corrected herself. "Knight has had me trapped here, learning to be some kind of lady!"
Rom arched an eyebrow. "You're making her pretend to be a noble?"
"Nothing of the sort," Reinhard replied smoothly. "Lady Emilia, if you and your servant would attend Miss Carol to the library for some refreshments, I believe there are a few matters I must discuss with Subaru and Rom."
"Oh, of course!" Emilia said with a bright nod, moving to follow Carol without hesitation.
The blue-haired maid gave a silent bow before trailing after them, while Carol—ever the disciplinarian—shot Felt a look before departing.
"The drawing room," Reinhard gestured for them to follow. "I believe Flam will be serving tea."
Felt bit back her impatience as she trailed behind the group. Just one more day, she reminded herself. By tomorrow evening, this whole mess will be behind me. I just have to play nice for now.
Once inside the drawing room, the warm glow of the fireplace casting flickering shadows against the walls, they settled in as Flam moved to pour their tea. Felt took a sip of her own, forcing herself to sit properly—though the fact she even thought about it made her feel gross.
She caught Subaru sitting all wrong—his posture slouched, legs stretched out carelessly. For a split second, she had the absurd urge to correct him.
Horrified at herself, she choked on her tea instead.
"So," Subaru leaned forward, his usual casual demeanor returning, "did Roswaal cut some kind of deal to keep her out of trouble for… you know, borrowing Emilia's insignia?"
"No," Reinhard said simply, stirring his tea with practiced ease. "Felt was never in danger of any punishment for that."
Subaru frowned slightly, something flickering across his face—too quick for Felt to place.
Reinhard set his cup down and turned his gaze to her. "I'll allow her to explain."
Felt had known this conversation was coming—it was just another hurdle on the path to getting this over with. She let out a sharp exhale and reached into her corset, pulling out the insignia. Holding it up, she flicked her gaze between Subaru and Rom, watching for their reactions.
"Get this," she said flatly. "Apparently, this insignia glows when I hold it." She shot Reinhard a glare before continuing. "And according to this guy," she jerked her thumb toward the red-haired knight, "that means I'm one of five candidates to rule this stupid country."
Silence stretched between them. Felt had expected something—laughter, teasing, maybe even an incredulous snort. But what she got was worse.
Subaru and Rom weren't laughing.
They were serious.
"You're saying… you're a royal candidate? Like Emilia?" Subaru said, his expression unreadable.
"Apparently," Felt scoffed, crossing her arms. "I only learned this crap yesterday."
She caught the glance Subaru shot at Rom—subtle, but loaded with something she couldn't quite place.
Her fingers curled around the insignia as a sinking feeling settled in her stomach.
"What?" Her sharp gaze flickered between them. "There's something you're not telling me. Spill it."
Subaru let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of his head like he was trying to find the right words. "Well… this makes things… complicated."
"How so?" Felt narrowed her eyes, setting her tea aside a little too forcefully. Carol would have definitely disapproved.
Subaru looked away, his jaw tightening, frustration creeping onto his face.
Rom, as usual, was the one to cut straight to the point. "Subaru entered into the service of Lord Roswaal as an apprentice mage."
Felt blinked, stunned into silence for the first time that evening.
"He… what?" she finally blurted. "An apprentice mage? To a noble?!"
Reinhard, who had been silent until now, hummed thoughtfully, tapping a finger against his chin. "Lord Roswaal agreed to take you on as an apprentice? That is intriguing."
Felt barely heard him. She was too busy staring at Subaru like he'd grown an extra head.
"What the hell do you want to learn magic for?" she demanded before a realization hit her. "Wait—isn't that guy, like… the court magic dude or something?"
She vaguely remembered Grimm drilling her on the noble hierarchy a few weeks back. She'd tuned out most of it, but something about Roswaal being the mage of the kingdom had stuck.
"Court Mage, and yes," Subaru confirmed, his tone firm. "Roswaal agreed to take me as his apprentice as a way of thanking me for helping to save Emilia from Elsa. I also made him promise to use his influence to ensure you didn't end up in any legal trouble."
Felt's gaze snapped to Reinhard, sharp as a blade. "You mean you never explained this shit to them?!"
"It was not my primary concern," Reinhard replied coolly. "When Lord Roswaal inquired, I informed him that you were in no real danger. However, I did withhold information regarding the Royal Selection."
Subaru's jaw tightened, his expression dark for a moment before he spoke again. "I was the one who asked for the role. I saw it as a way to build a better life for the three of us. Magic, especially the kind I'm learning, could be… useful."
Felt scoffed, crossing her arms. "Yeah, sure, but now you're in debt to some noble. One who's backing that silver-haired half-elf, no less!"
Subaru exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "It's not all bad. Emilia's a good person too. And yeah, learning magic isn't exactly a walk in the park, but at least you're not the only one suffering through tough lessons."
"You don't get to make light of this whole situation, Subaru!" Felt snapped, her frustration boiling over.
"Calm down, Felt," Rom rumbled, placing a large, steady hand on her back. "Subaru was doing what he thought was best."
Felt clenched her fists at her sides. She knew that—of course she did. But that didn't mean she had to like it. More than anything, she blamed him. That red-haired idiot sitting across from her, still sipping his damn tea like none of this was his fault.
"Well, none of it matters, because by tomorrow, I won't be a royal candidate anymore," she huffed, pushing her chair back aggressively. "I never wanted this, and I sure as hell don't plan to stick around for it."
Reinhard parted his lips to speak, but Subaru beat him to it.
"That's childish."
Felt froze.
"…What did you just say?"
"It's childish," Subaru repeated, his tone even, unwavering. "You're being given the chance to change the system, and you're just gonna throw that away? What else would you call it?"
"I didn't ask for this!" she shot back.
"No," Subaru agreed. "But it's still real."
Felt's nails dug into her palms. "What about that Emilia girl? You seem to like her enough," she sneered, ignoring the sting of jealousy in her chest. "Why not just push for her to be queen?"
"Emilia would make a great queen," Subaru admitted, much to her irritation. "But that doesn't mean you wouldn't too. I don't know much about the other three candidates, but what I do know is that the odds of getting someone good on the throne are a hell of a lot better if you stay in the running."
"I agree with Subaru," Rom said, his arms folding across his chest. "I don't like this mess any more than you do, but he's got a point."
Felt grit her teeth. It was bad enough when Carol, Grimm, and Reinhard tried to force this crap on her. But now her own family was against her too?
"What in the fuck," she growled, savoring the word just to spite Carol's nagging voice in her head, "makes any of you think I could run a country?! A month ago, I was living in a shack you built, Rom. No amount of stupid noble lessons is gonna turn me into some prissy princess who knows how to rule a kingdom!" Her voice cracked as her frustration boiled over. "I'm a thief, not some bitchy noble who pushes people around!"
"If I thought you were the type to push people around, I wouldn't be standing here supporting you," Subaru exhaled sharply, his frustration evident. "You have the chance to make life better for so many people—people like us, people who don't have a voice."
"Like us?" Felt snapped, eyes flashing with anger. "Look at you! You're dressed like one of them now!"
"And you're not?!" Subaru shot back, rising abruptly from his seat. His sudden outburst made Felt flinch, and that only made her angrier.
Before things could escalate further, Reinhard reached out and placed a firm hand on Subaru's shoulder. Subaru jerked away from the contact but let out a slow breath before reluctantly sinking back into his chair.
Felt's fists clenched at her sides. "Unlike you," she spat, "I didn't ask for this."
The air in the room was thick with tension. Subaru looked like he wanted to say more, but before he could, Felt pushed herself to her feet, the legs of her chair scraping sharply against the polished floor.
"Reinhard," she said, her voice tight, "I will be retiring for the evening." She turned to Rom without meeting his gaze. "Old Man, you can stay if you want. But Subaru?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm sure your master is expecting you."
She didn't wait for a reply.
Turning on her heel, Felt strode out of the room, ignoring the heat rising in her chest. The moment she was out of sight, she felt it—hot, stinging tears slipping down her cheeks.
Damn it.
She hated crying.
Falm had apparently decided not to inform Carol about Felt's outburst during her reunion with Subaru and Rom—for which she was immensely grateful. The last thing she needed was another lecture, especially when she wasn't sure she could handle one without completely falling apart.
The moment she was alone in her chambers, she had locked the door, slumped onto the bed, and let everything unravel. She had been so angry that she ripped off the suffocating dress, tearing at the fabric before tossing it into the far corner of the room like it carried the weight of everything she despised. Then came the tears—hot, stinging, frustrating tears—muffled into her pillow alongside a few silent screams.
By the time a soft knock came at her door, exhaustion had settled over her, weighing her down like a lead blanket.
She didn't answer, hoping whoever it was would take the hint and go away.
The door, however, creaked open anyway, and in stepped Flam and Garassis, both bowing slightly before speaking.
"My lady, I know you are in distress, but we must insist you put something on before we allow our guest in," Flam said, her voice as calm as ever.
Felt groaned into her pillow before lifting her head just enough to glare at them. "Guest?" she asked, her voice scratchy from crying.
"The giant known as Rom is just outside," Garassis clarified.
For a moment, Felt considered pointing out that Rom had raised her. He'd seen her covered in mud, dirt, blood, and worse over the years—hell, he was probably the least concerned person when it came to whether or not she was properly dressed. But she didn't have the energy to argue.
"No frills," she muttered instead, rubbing at her sore, puffy eyes.
They nodded in unison before selecting a simple dress—a plain blue one that only came down to her knees. It was casual enough, which was the best she could hope for in Reinhard's home.
Once she had changed, the twins bowed, scooped up the tattered remnants of her ruined gown, and quietly left. A moment later, the door creaked again as Rom stepped in, ducking through the doorway to accommodate his large frame.
Felt sat up, hugging her knees to her chest as she eyed him warily.
"You okay, kid?" Rom asked, giving her a long, searching look.
"I'm fine," she lied automatically.
"Sure," Rom said, his tone making it clear he didn't believe her for a second. He glanced around the room, hands on his hips. "Not bad. Got a good view of the palace from here."
Felt scoffed. "Yeah, great. Just what I always wanted," she muttered.
Rom ignored the sarcasm and instead took a seat on the cushioned chair near her bed. His movements were slow, and measured. Like he was giving her space.
"What do you want, Gramps?" she asked, her voice worn and tired. She wasn't angry anymore—just drained.
Rom didn't answer right away. Instead, he let out a long sigh before meeting her gaze.
"Are you trying to run off Subaru?" he finally asked.
Felt blinked. "What?"
"You're mad at him," Rom said, watching her closely. "But you might've overdone it."
Felt clenched her jaw. She wanted to snap back, to tell Rom he didn't understand. But she didn't have the fire left in her.
"Well… he's on their side, isn't he?" she muttered, pulling her knees tighter to her chest. "Besides, you both want me to do this thing—so let him have his little noble life. He doesn't need me, so I don't need him."
Rom was quiet for a long moment, then let out another deep sigh. "You know that ain't true, kid."
Felt swallowed, looking away.
She knew he was right.
But for the first time in her life, she felt alone. Subaru had always been hers—her big brother, her partner-in-crime, the one who always had her back. Now, he was Roswaal's apprentice. Now, he was fighting for Emilia's cause.
And the worst part?
She hated how much that hurt.
"Sure, I guess," Felt muttered, turning her gaze away. "Still don't wanna do this thing."
Rom exhaled through his nose, studying her. "No one can make you," he said evenly, "but Subaru wasn't wrong, and you know it." His eyes sharpened as he leaned forward slightly. "You're not acting like yourself, kid. The Felt I know would be raising hell right now. Gonna have to make a decision for yourself."
Felt didn't answer right away. She just sat there, staring out the window. The streetlamps outside flickered to life, casting warm pools of light along the cobbled roads beyond the Astrea manor walls. Ornate carriages rolled by—luxurious, polished, completely detached from the kind of life she had always known.
It made her stomach twist.
After a long moment, she spoke.
"I want…" she hesitated, trying to find the right words. Her voice was quieter now, almost thoughtful. "I want to burn it all down. Every injustice these people have."
Rom let out a low chuckle. "Burn it all down? Little radical, don't you think, kid?"
"Not literally," she shook her head, scowling. "I mean… the system, ya know? Tear down the damn walls that keep people separate. Make it so kids don't have to fight over scraps just to make it to the next day." Her hands clenched into fists against her lap. "Like Subaru and I would've had to… if it weren't for you."
Rom was quiet for a moment, then gave a slow, knowing nod.
Felt exhaled sharply, pushing herself up straighter. "I want everyone to be able to really live strong. Not just dream about it—not just hope for it—but to actually have a real chance." She shook her head. "But… I can't do that alone. I need strong people at my side. I won't do it alone."
Her crimson eyes met Rom's, burning with conviction. "So if you expect me to go through this by myself, forget it."
Rom's gaze softened, a small, proud smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You won't be alone, kid. I promise—I'll be right by your side."
For the first time that night, Felt let herself smile—small, but real.
And for the first time since this whole mess began… she felt just a little less lost.
"Don't think I'm going anywhere either, you dummy."
Felt's head snapped up toward the doorway. Standing there, arms crossed and smirking, was Subaru.
"B-big bro—" her voice caught as heat rushed to her face, a mix of shame and surprise. "I-I thought you'd have left."
"What? You really think some dumb little outburst would make me run off?" Subaru scoffed, shaking his head. "Come on, Felt, I've heard worse from you just because I forgot to buy you an Appa at the market."
Felt scowled, but the lump forming in her throat made it impossible to throw out a snarky reply. She wanted to punch him in the arm, to yell at him for being so damn smug.
Instead, she was on her feet before she could think twice about it, closing the distance between them in an instant.
"You're the dummy!" she huffed, burying herself against him.
Subaru chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around her. "Yeah, yeah. I know."
For the first time in weeks, Felt let herself relax, just for a moment. And in that moment, she felt like she was home.
"What about… well, don't you work for that Roswaal guy now?" Felt asked as she reluctantly stepped back, searching Subaru's face.
"Yeah," Subaru shrugged, unconcerned. "But being a mage's apprentice is overrated anyway." He chuckled, slipping his hands into his pockets. "I told Emilia I'd be staying here for the night. Tomorrow, before all the Palace business, I'll let Roswaal know I found something better."
Felt raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Who said I was gonna hire you?"
"Oh? You gonna make me beg?" Subaru tilted his head, playing along.
"Might be a good start." She crossed her arms, her grin widening. "If I'm gonna be queen, I need to learn how to put stuffy noble types like yourself in their place."
Subaru groaned, shaking his head. "You're the worst." Then his expression softened. "So… you're really going for it?"
Felt glanced toward the window, watching the flickering lanterns of the city below. "…Yeah," she admitted. "I think I will." Turning back, she met his gaze. "So, together?"
Subaru grinned before glancing over at Rom. "Together, right, old man?"
The giant frowned, arms crossed. "Depends."
"Depends?" Felt and Subaru echoed in unison.
"I'm in—that's not up for debate," Rom clarified, his deep voice firm. "But that contract of yours, Subaru… Will Roswaal really let you go so easily? Especially to a competitor?"
Subaru's smile faltered slightly as he considered the question. "Well… only one way to find out, right?"
Felt studied him carefully, a new thought creeping into her mind.
Just what kind of man had her big bro gotten himself mixed up with?
A/N: Well here we are again! Loved this one, I'll be posting again on Sunday 2/19/25. Not enough reviews to bother with replying this week, but hopefully I have more to talk about later!