"I'm sorry, I caused you so much trouble…!"
"No, the truth is,
Petra bowed over and over again, apologizing for her undignified display of composure. Rem, who had tried to comfort Petra, stiffened her cheeks upon realizing she'd said something tactless, and glanced over at
Ram met Rem's gaze with a gentle smile: "It's fine."
"After all, I'm just a hopeless older sister who can't keep her composure at a touching reunion scene. If Rem goes around calling me a crybaby, I have no one to blame but myself."
"Th-That wasn't my intention at all! I wasn't saying you're a crybaby — that's a misunderstanding! And besides, I was happy that you cried, sister!"
"That's right, Ram. Because you finally remembered Rem. Even if you cried because of that, no one would think you're a crybaby. Come on, cheer up!"
"Rem…
After Rem, Emilia joined in to offer comfort, and Ram turned her face away, pressing her hand to the corner of her eye. The two continued to look worried, though from Petra's perspective it was all a bit theatrical.
Of course, there was no question that Ram was genuinely this happy.
"…Sister Ram, I know you're happy, but you really shouldn't tease the two of them."
"Ehh!?"
"Tease…?"
Petra managed to steady her voice and admonish Ram, causing Emilia and Rem to widen their eyes in surprise. Ram, the wicked sister who had deceived those two innocent girls, stopped her fake crying and shrugged her shoulders.
"You're right. My memories came back safely, and I just couldn't help wanting to see all of Rem's different faces, so I was being a little mean. Will you forgive your terrible older sister?"
"Sister… honestly, there's nothing we can do. But only this once, okay?"
"Yes, thank you. Emilia-sama, are you alright with that too?"
"Well, if Rem's already forgiven you, I can't very well stay angry forever. Honestly."
"Amazing. She didn't apologize at all, but just by being clingy, she got away with it scot-free."
Despite Ram's complete lack of remorse, her high-handed behavior was easily forgiven by both Rem and Emilia. Meiili, witnessing the whole thing, muttered in exasperation. Petra agreed with Meiili's sentiment — it was very Ram-like, but she was getting a bit carried away.
"I want to hold a victory celebration for Rem — for Sister Rem too, of course — but this is an extremely difficult time right now, so Sister Ram, please exercise some restraint."
"Restraint, hm? That sounds like a perfectly reasonable thing to say on the surface, but what about you, Petra?"
"…Eh? What do you mean? I've been reflecting on what happened earlier, too."
"I'm not trying to criticize you for falling apart. What I'm noticing is something else entirely. — Ever since a little while ago, you've naturally settled into the space between Rem and Emilia-sama."
At Ram's observation from behind half-closed eyes, Petra let out a surprised "Eh?" and looked to her left and right, at the profiles of Emilia and Rem sitting beside her.
The three of them were currently seated side by side on a wide sofa, with Petra in the center. Petra had each of their arms pulled tight against her, gripping them firmly, as if she would never let go.
"Oh…"
"'Oh' isn't going to cut it. After you latched onto big sister Rem, you very naturally pulled big sister Emilia right along with you — both of them, no less."
"I-I'm sorry. It's like my love for both of them just overflowed…"
Hearing Meiili's continued exasperation, Petra reflected on herself. But her excuse was identical to what Ram had said moments ago, which earned her a sharp "Ha!" of laughter from Ram.
"It's fine, it's fine, Petra. Rem has also been thinking about filling in the blanks in my memories, one piece at a time."
"Sister Rem…"
"Besides, well… Rem thought she hadn't been very close with you and the others in the village, so it makes me really happy to know you think of me so fondly."
Still having her arms held by Petra, Rem blushed faintly and smiled shyly.
From Rem's own self-awareness, her relationships with Petra and the others had peaked in the period around the start of the Royal Selection — specifically, the one month when Subaru had been taken in at the mansion. Before that, they were merely people who passed each other by.
So Rem's shy assessment wasn't wrong. The reason Petra felt such enormous emotions toward Rem owed less to Petra's own feelings and more to the influence of "Subaru."
Even so, she thought— *Smiling and blushing like that — Sister Rem is so precious…* "Petra, your ears are super red. Are you okay?"
"Ah, no, it's not — it's not cheating or anything… Emilia-sama is number one!"
"Eh? Ah, that's right. I am the most important person in our camp, so I have to act the part."
Petra, caught between embarrassment and happiness, let slip something she shouldn't have. But Emilia, whether she was truly an angel, a goddess, or just the type of protagonist who misread everything, simply let it slide.
At this, Petra held back her racing heart from the inside and muttered to herself, "My number one is Subaru, obviously…" as she stood up. If she stayed sandwiched between Emilia and Rem any longer, her heart would fall apart.
*'Great job, Petra! You made it through!'* "Subaru, you better be ready for a world of grief from me later. Cheater."
*'You're being too harsh on me when I can't even touch Emilia-tan or Rem!'* Petra finally managed to cut off those wishy-washy lingering feelings, redirecting all her pent-up frustration toward Imaginary Subaru. The "Subaru" who was dancing around the reception room, dabbing tears with a handkerchief and expressing his emotional explosion over Rem's restored memories with wild gestures, drew a heavy sigh from Petra.
And then— "I know we're making a commotion over Rem, but I'd like us to be able to calm down and settle in here. — Let's talk about *him*."
"————"
The room's atmosphere visibly tightened at Rem's quiet but firm opening.
While things hadn't exactly been relaxed — the urgency of the situation was already in stark contrast to how warm the room had become — Rem herself, who was the cause of that warmth, now swept it all away. It was very admirable. Truly commendable.
"Ram and Rem, did Krendel-san fill you in on the situation?"
"More or less. He also showed us the devastation in the
"Sister Ram, that way of putting it…"
"Sorry, let me rephrase. — All of us dropped the ball."
"————"
Ram's assessment was heavy, and it echoed through every chest in the room with a deep, resounding weight.
They had confirmed this before Ram and Rem's arrival, but looking at it again — the damage wrought by Al's actions, its sheer magnitude — it was enough to make one want to cover their eyes.
"That said, there's no point in excessive self-blame. Ultimately, the responsibility lies with the one who caused this crisis. That is our conclusion."
"Your attitude is probably right. But things aren't that simple, are they?"
"…That's quite the sharp girl you are. What was all that goofing around earlier for?"
Old man
"Not simple — do you mean in terms of who bears the responsibility?"
"Yes, exactly. Rom-sama will explain the details, I think. I'll leave it to him."
"You've just dumped a troublesome job on me… Well, fine. As that girl says, regardless of our attitude, the current situation is unfavorable for both us and you lot."
Having been entrusted with the role of explainer, old man Rom pointed with a thick finger at himself and then at Emilia. Watching his large fingertip, Emilia blinked her purple eyes.
"Of course that applies to us, but what about you, Rom…
"Our Ezrem was in the tower as well. Ezrem had been given the duty of managing the tower until a formal investigation team could be dispatched, but he failed to fulfill it. As for Reinhard, he couldn't stop either the helmet guy or the 'Divine Dragon,' and the capital suffered damage as a result."
"But big sister Emilia made it so the big boulders didn't fall on the city, didn't she? And he's still getting blamed for that?"
"If you can win public approval just by shattering the stones that were thrown, then Reinhard could do the same thing over and over. These things, Meiili, must be judged fairly — not just by the outcome, but by the process as well."
Meiili pouted her lips as old man Rom slowly shook his large head with a troubled expression.
Behind Meiili's dissatisfaction was her frustration that Emilia's great contribution wasn't being properly recognized. Emilia understood this, so she smiled and said "Thank you" to Meiili — which only made the girl turn further away with an even bigger pout.
"Now, let me tell you what we absolutely must do. First, we have to stop the helmet guy — the man calling himself Aldebaran — with our own hands. We cannot leave this to anyone else or to the Kingdom. Only once that's accomplished can we talk about making up for what was lost."
"Why does it have to be us? Of course, we're going to do our very best, but if we can stop Al before he does something terrible…"
"You don't understand, Emilia. This is no longer about Aldebaran alone. He has the 'Divine Dragon' with him. That is a matter that shakes the very foundation of the Royal Selection… To overturn it, the Dragon Priestess — the Royal Selection candidate — must reclaim it. And if that can't be done…"
"Then the Royal Selection itself… will just cease to exist?"
At the decisive possibility voiced by Emilia, old man Rom gravely nodded. Having heard the discussion up to this point, Petra also belatedly caught up with the sense of crisis.
After all, the Royal Selection to determine the next king of the Kingdom of Lugnica was founded on the covenant with the Dragon and the Prophecy of the Dragon Calendar needed to maintain it. One could say it was a ceremony that relied upon the immense power of the "Divine Dragon,"
"That is why, it is absolutely necessary. There must be a resolution — a clear conclusion — in which the Royal Selection candidate personally stops the Aldebaran who deceived the 'Divine Dragon.' This is the essential precondition for resolving this crisis and allowing the Royal Selection to continue."
Those were the words of the wisest among Felt's camp, the old giant who had long observed the world, and they carried a persuasiveness that no one could refute.
Al's hand must be stopped before it destroys the world. But that didn't mean everything could be anything once the world was safe.
After the battle ended, there had to remain— "A place where Subaru-kun can properly come back to."
"Rem…"
Emilia looked at Rem, who had murmured those words after listening to old man Rom's explanation. Filling her pale blue eyes with a sense of duty, Rem responded to Emilia's gaze.
"Because that's what he did for me, right? Rem's room at the mansion — it was left exactly as it had been before… Because Subaru-kun had held such strong feelings for me, I was able to remember what I'd forgotten. Thanks to this morning star that Subaru-kun polished for me every day…!"
So saying, Rem gripped the iron ball on a chain — the morning star — and declared with force. Overwhelmed by the clinking sound of the chain ringing heroically and Rem's passionate momentum, Emilia tilted her head.
"…Thanks to the morning star?"
"Yes. You might find this surprising, but the moment I touched this morning star… all my previous memories came flooding back. I thought it was just some obsessive quirk of his, but I was wrong about that. …There's so much I want to apologize for, about many things…"
Rem lowered her eyes in shame and began recounting the circumstances of her memory's restoration. At Rem's impassioned plea, Emilia's eyes went wide and her hands fluttered helplessly — she was clearly at a loss.
It was probably a matter of timing. — Gluttony, which Al had brought out of the Prison Tower, had likely done something that was connected to the restoration of Rem's "memories" and "name." And that had happened at the exact moment Rem had touched the morning star at the mansion.
That was why Rem was convinced that the morning star was what had awakened her.
"Listen, Rem, please hear me out calmly…"
"Don't worry, Emilia-sama. With this morning star, Rem will definitely become the power to bring Subaru-kun back. After that, if I could tell you all about what happened in the Empire, and discuss the future…"
Rem clenched her fists tightly, and Emilia's troubled expression continued. Beside them, Meiili looked over at Ram and asked, "You're not going to stop her?"
"There's nothing to be done. Even I didn't foresee this. — To think that Barusu's idle nonsense about polishing that thing every day would actually come in handy."
"…I really don't think it's a good sign that I'm the most level-headed person here."
Meiili lamented that even Ram had fallen into overconfidence in the morning star's power.
Regardless, the matter of "Gluttony" — including the fact that it was still largely speculation — needed to be shared with Rem and the others. Petra decided to leave that to Emilia, and with the dreamlike performance between Emilia and Rem in the corner of her vision, she turned back to old man Rom.
And then— "Krendel-niisama still hasn't brought everyone back yet… but we're running out of time. You and old man Rom are cooperating with us, right?"
"…Yes, absolutely. Continuing the Royal Selection is the unanimous decision of our camp."
"Then please tell us. What you noticed about Al-san."
Old man Rom, who had rejoined them on the plains and accompanied them flying to the Royal Capital — due to Krendel's "compression" logistics, he had chosen to split up with the others and had been fighting alongside Emilia's faction, gaining crucial intelligence about Al during their initial clash.
Through the discussions up to now, Emilia's camp and Felt's camp were already bound together. Petra felt it was time to open their hearts to each other, and she made this request of old man Rom.
At Petra's insistence, old man Rom slapped his bald head several times.
"What I'm about to say is extraordinarily unconventional and defies common sense. The reason I held it back wasn't for dramatic effect — it was a matter of credibility."
"It's fine. I trust old man Rom. Really — I think I'd be absolutely stunned once I heard it."
"…You've changed quite a bit too, haven't you, Petra."
Maybe thinking it was just flattery, old man Rom lowered his brows and muttered in exasperation.
But Petra's words held no falsehood. She trusted old man Rom. She knew he was a man of paternal instinct who cared deeply for Felt — a girl held hostage by Al and his group — and would throw his life away without hesitation for her sake.
That was why the trust threshold old man Rom had been so concerned about had been cleared from the very beginning.
Unaware of Petra's inner thoughts, old man Rom was still preoccupied with Emilia and Rem as they worked through aligning their understanding of events.
"This is something I'll need to tell Emilia and the others later, but… Aldebaran is likely using what's called an Authority — a cheat-like ability."
*'— An Authority.'* At old man Rom's carefully chosen words, it was "Subaru" rather than Petra who reacted first.
"Subaru," who had been spinning in the air, stiffened his face and stared intently at old man Rom. Imaginary Subaru's reaction was only natural — they had just heard about it from Krendel's mouth moments ago. But both Petra and "Subaru" recognized the word "Authority" in an even more sinister sense.
It was the word that had been uttered by the Sin Archbishop of "Sloth" — and by the "
The tremendous right and authority to interfere with the nature of this world, to overturn concepts, and to arbitrarily rewrite its laws.
That Al was wielding such power — the reason old man Rom had concluded this was— "He… apparently can rewind time that has already passed. It doesn't seem to be a very long stretch, but still."
△▼△▼△▼△ — In the end, what was it that she actually needed to do?
That "proposition," which had plagued her ever since she was small and weak and had stuck with her through all the years, continued to trail after Felt in its same easygoing manner, even now as she was dragged around by Aldebaran's group.
"Man, what a pain in the ass."
Felt scratched her head in irritation and spat out the frustration simmering deep in her gut.
She knew that helplessness and resignation served no purpose in survival. And yet, these feelings — useless as they were for quenching thirst or filling her stomach — kept flooding up and filling her body with themselves, getting in the way at every turn.
"Tch."
Felt clicked her tongue, bit into the dried meat she'd been given for dinner, and tore it apart. The overwhelmingly salty taste gave her a clear sense of dissatisfaction, and she berated herself for having gone soft.
It had been barely two and a half days since she'd been separated, and she already missed Framm's and Grassis's cooking.
Even the heavily seasoned meals that Ezrem or Rachins occasionally placed on the dining table were far better than portable rations. Having Reinhard cook was out of the question — Framm and the others would be furious about putting the right people in the right roles — but if she quietly had him make sweets only, his skill was actually quite impressive.
Unfortunately, both Felt and old man Rom were catastrophic in the kitchen. It was a miracle that in the nearly ten years they'd spent sneaking into the treasury, they hadn't died of food poisoning. Perhaps Felt's limited growth compared to others her age was actually because of that.
Setting aside the camp's culinary situation— "I can't cook for shit. So what *can* I do?"
Faintly, she licked a grain of salt from her fingertip, narrowed her red eyes, and her thoughts returned to the same "proposition" from the start.
— Currently, Aldebaran's group was moving from base to base while recovering from their exhaustion in the Royal Capital — from Aldebaran and the "Divine Dragon." At first, Felt had assumed they would head straight for the Mogarada Caldera, their intended destination. But it seemed it wasn't simply a matter of arriving on-site; they appeared to be waiting for the right timing.
However, the rest they needed while waiting for that opportunity was far from peaceful — they were being subjected to relentless obstruction by a ruthless pursuer:
"Can't even have a normal conversation with the guy — his Blessing is insanely dangerous. …Well, actually, it's not the Blessing that's the problem. It's the bug-brother himself who's the terrifying one."
Otto, who wore a mild, somewhat slow-witted expression, was in fact a person who required extreme caution.
Ultimately, any Blessing was merely a type of tool. No matter how magnificent a sword one was given, if it lacked the arm strength to wield it, the opportunity and willingness to learn how to use it, and the courage to use it when it mattered, then the sword was just a fancy ornament.
Otto had the arm strength, the opportunity, the willingness, and the courage. — And Felt, who carried no sword, had to prove that she did as well.
"That guy's strategy is purely attrition… He's thinking up some nasty stuff."
Otto, who apparently used the "Blessing of the Soul of Words" to make insects, birds, and fish his allies, denied Aldebaran's group even a moment's peace. They were constantly forced to deal with the buzzing of wings, the howling of beasts in the distance, contaminated water, and spoiled food. The sheer variety of these indirect attacks meant they couldn't even secure adequate sleep — and Felt, forced to endure alongside them, had a splitting headache.
But even this level of collateral damage was something Felt had accounted for. If possible, she'd have wanted to exploit her position as a captive to mercilessly participate in Otto's operations too.
"He's only keeping the 'Divine Dragon' in check, so I guess there's *some* value in it…"
But Felt realized that wasn't enough — and the proof was the fight between the "Divine Dragon" and the "Sword Devil" in the Royal Capital.
Even if Felt's presence could shave off ten percent of the Divine Dragon's power, the remaining ninety percent was more than enough to display disaster-level strength — that was the true caliber of the Divine Dragon Volcanica. Considering that old man Rom, who had once been defeated, might challenge Aldebaran's group to a rematch in the future, the current situation wasn't enough.
That was the "proposition" Felt, as a captive, needed to resist.
"Actually, there's one more thing."
Murmuring to herself, Felt turned her attention to another "proposition" she faced from her position.
"————"
Directly across from her, separated by the crackling campfire, sat a man facing her. — No, facing wasn't quite right. In truth, he had his face lowered and hadn't so much as glanced her way.
He sat in a tight, deathly still crouch with a sheathed sword held against his chest, radiating a suffocating aura of sullenness from every pore — the red-haired man known as Heinkel.
At the entrance to a naturally formed cave in the rocky terrain, Felt and Heinkel were alone, waiting for the others who had gone to secure the surroundings and eliminate threats. They were sharing this gloomy stretch of time together.
Heinkel was ostensibly assigned as Felt's guard, but judging by how often each looked at the other, it was hard to say who was guarding whom. He refused to eat the dried meat meant for dinner — he wouldn't even touch water — this thorough rejection of the outside world continued to scrape against Felt's nerves with every passing second.
"————"
Felt would declare outright that she had no yardstick for judging Heinkel's behavior as good or bad. She wouldn't lie about that, nor would she change her opinion — but she did have a yardstick for like and dislike.
At minimum, acting like a Hollow when you were still alive earned the verdict of "strongly dislike."
"Hey — if you're not gonna eat that, give me the dried meat."
"————"
"I can hear you, you know. Don't ignore me — whoa there."
From the start, she had no intention of picking a fight — she had only used the dried meat as a conversation starter — but he flung it at her wordlessly, as if to tell her to shut up. She caught it in a hurry, but Heinkel didn't even look her way.
Feeling suddenly stupid for having opened her hand, Felt called out "Hey" again.
"Why'd you stick your nose in back there?"
Cutting straight to the chase, Felt dove boldly into the heart of why Heinkel was sitting there like a lump.
"————"
Heinkel remained silent, but since he'd thrown the dried meat, he hadn't completely shut out the world. Taking that as a starting point, Felt snorted softly.
"Your old man… this is hard to say. Reinhard's grandfather and the 'Divine Dragon' were fighting. I'm not exactly a warrior, so I couldn't tell the details of who had the upper hand in that battle. But you were supposed to be on the 'Divine Dragon's' side, weren't you?"
"————"
"The fact that you barged in means the 'Divine Dragon' was in trouble. And that's pretty crazy in its own right — but there's something weird about it. If your goal was the 'Dragon's Blood,' then the moment your grandfather looked like he was going to win should have been the perfect opportunity."
"————"
"The dragon could've died and you could've gotten the blood, but you intervened. Why?"
Taking his silence as permission, Felt laid out her words without hesitation.
As she said, Heinkel's interference in the battle between the "Divine Dragon" and the "Sword Devil" was supremely unnatural given his stated objectives. She had even suspected that deep hatred for his father might have been the motive — but Heinkel had asked the Dragon to treat Wilhelm, the very man he had stabbed, just before flying off with the Divine Dragon.
In other words, Heinkel wished for neither the death of the "Divine Dragon" nor the death of the "Sword Devil" in that battle.
"It doesn't add up at all. What exactly are you—"
He was about to say "thinking"— when in an instant, Felt was slammed to the hard ground, and an unsheathed blade was pressed against her neck.
"Talking too much, brat."
Bloodshot blue eyes filled her field of vision. His breath reeked of blood, as if he'd bitten through the inside of his mouth. Felt grimaced. Even as she did, Heinkel continued to slide the blade threateningly across her skin.
"If you don't want to get hurt, keep your mouth sh—*gah!?*"
Into the gap in his threat, Felt drove her fist without hesitation, punching Heinkel square in the nose.
"*Wh—uh?*" Heinkel's eyes went white — not from the pain, but from the shock of being struck. Felt used the momentum of getting up to kick him in the chest, sending him tumbling backward onto his rear. She looked down at him.
"Like I'm gonna be scared of *you* now."
With that, Felt picked up Heinkel's sword, which had fallen nearby. For an instant, Heinkel flinched, but Felt sighed and tossed the sword back to him. Heinkel caught it reflexively, his eyes wide with surprise, but Felt simply shrugged.
He was probably wondering why she'd returned the sword, but to Felt it was the only logical choice. She couldn't beat Heinkel even if she fought dirty. And if, by some accident, Heinkel actually tried to cut her down, Yaé would be absolutely delighted — that much was obvious. In fact, the whole reason Yaé had left Felt and Heinkel alone together in the first place made her intentions perfectly clear.
Yaé wanted to eliminate both of them if she got the chance. To avoid playing into her hands, causing a scene here wasn't wise. — Not that it required that level of cool-headed reasoning; it simply wasn't Felt's role to beat Heinkel into submission.
"And if that's supposed to be Reinhard's job — well, I don't think that's quite right either."
"—!"
At the mention of Reinhard's name, Heinkel flinched dramatically once again.
A man more than twice her age, visibly quaking at everything Felt said and did — it was an embarrassingly pathetic sight. But Felt wanted to know the reason for that patheticness.
Even if knowing it would leave a terribly bitter taste in her mouth.
"Just like before, you don't have to answer. I'll talk, and I'll figure it out on my own."
Felt brushed the dirt off her clothes where she'd been pushed down, and without waiting for his reply, she looked up at the sky. Through the gaps in the rocky terrain, an unseasonably bright constellation of stars glittered.
Glaring at the ironic beauty of that sky, Felt started with, "Here's the thing."
"What bugs me about the fight between the 'Divine Dragon' and grandfather — it's everything I just said. You want the 'Dragon's Blood,' but your actions don't add up. And there's another thing that doesn't add up. — 'Gluttony.'"
"————"
"He's got the worst personality and never shuts his mouth — let's set that aside for the moment. Even without that, no one in their right mind would welcome a Sin Archbishop who's a worthless piece of garbage… but you'd have far more reason to hate that bastard than I would, wouldn't you?"
Heinkel kept his silence, offering no answer. But he had drawn a sharp, tight breath at the question, and Felt narrowed her eyes.
Released from the Prison Tower and brought along by Aldebaran because he was needed for his plans —
Because Reinhard's mother — and Heinkel's wife — Luanna Astrea, who lay in an unending sleep, bore a disturbing resemblance to the victims of "Gluttony."
"I told you before, but I know about your… Reinhard's family situation. Your wife's been asleep for over ten years, and no one's found a way to wake her. Well, the 'Dragon's Blood' would probably fix that… but what about justice?"
"————"
"What about justice for the bastard who's kept your wife sleeping for over ten years?"
After the attack on Duke
Naturally, this information had reached Heinkel's ears. And yet, Heinkel had never once shown interest in "Gluttony," who might have been responsible for his wife's slumber.
— Was it because obtaining the "Dragon's Blood" and waking his wife was his sole priority?
— Was he too shaken by the trauma of stabbing his own father and bathing in his blood to care?
Or— "If you really don't have that bastard in your sights at all — then why not?"
"W-Wait… what—"
"You don't need to answer. I told you. I'll talk and figure it out on my own."
Heinkel gripped his sword with trembling hands, his ashen face staring at Felt. Meeting those blue Astrea eyes with her own red ones, Felt gained her conviction.
Deep within Heinkel's gaze — faintly, unsteadily, yet persisting without fading — there flickered an ember. It was, she realized, the same kind of fire that burned in old man Rom's eyes when he looked at Felt.
"————"
Unlike the "Sleeping Beauties" whose every connection in the world was severed, Luanna was remembered by Reinhard, by Heinkel, by all those connected to her — and they mourned her sleep.
In other words, it was different. Luanna Astrea was not a victim of "Gluttony." And Heinkel knew this fact, yet had never told a soul.
Why? Because it must not be known. — The reason Luanna had been put to sleep.
That reason was— "…Reinhard."
"————"
His widened eyes, his wordless expression, his lifeless breath — all of it answered more eloquently than words, reinforcing Felt's conviction.
What she needed to do. — Knowing the truth was Felt's current "proposition."
And the terribly bitter truth that her resolve and certainty in confronting that proposition led her to— "The one who put Reinhard's mother to sleep… is Reinhard himself, isn't it?"