"For now," Reinhardt said, his tone soft but final, "I won't tell anyone about you. Not yet. I need to get everything ready first."
He stood from his chair, brushing his crimson cloak back with a graceful flick of his hand as he moved toward the small table beside Kael's bed. His gaze landed on the delicate, half-wilted flowers in the vase—once fresh and changed daily by Robert, now left untouched. His emerald eyes narrowed slightly. He said nothing.
Then his fingers reached for the small wooden box resting beside it—the same box Elric had handed Kael weeks ago. He lifted it carefully, turning it in his hands.
Kael only stared at him, quiet and unreadable.
Reinhardt gave a faint chuckle, more to himself. "Is staying here… comforting?" he asked, not expecting a reply. "She kidnapped you from me, you know." His words carried no anger, only melancholy. "But I let her do it. Because she's someone I can trust."
He turned the box in his hand again, then held it out to Kael. "She admires you… not as a hero, not even as a friend. But as her savior." His voice softened. "So I know she wouldn't do anything to hurt you."
Kael accepted the box without a word.
"This ring," Reinhardt continued, "was your insurance. A promise. A tool to keep any eyesore far away from your life." He gave a slight smirk. "Even me, if you choose."
He then walked to Kael's side, resting a hand gently on his shoulder.
"Hey, Kael," he said. "Do you want to remember your past?"
The question froze Kael more than anything else had.
It wasn't a command. Not an order. Not a declaration that he had to be someone he no longer felt like. It was a question.
For the first time, someone asked him what he wanted.
And it shook him.
He looked down, gripping the box more tightly. Could he… remember? Did he even want to? Because to remember Kael—the Hero Kael—meant losing everything he had once been. His past life was hard, yes, but it had been his. His alone. Remembering meant letting go of that.
He didn't know if he was ready.
Reinhardt smiled as if he could read all those thoughts playing in Kael's eyes.
"If you don't want to remember," he said, kneeling slightly beside him, "then just start… learning. You don't have to reclaim the memories. Just know them. Like reading history. Like reading your story."
Kael blinked at him.
"…Learning?" he asked softly.
Reinhardt brightened, smiling wider. "Yes! Just like that! Learn at your pace. No pressure. It's like… how you hold your sword, or how you read now. Your body remembers things even when your mind doesn't."
He stood again. "Elric and Robert might help, but I know you better than either of them. You felt it too, right? Your body recognized me the first moment we met. That wasn't your mind—it was your soul."
Kael couldn't deny it.
He had shut everyone out when he first woke. It had taken days to even speak to Robert, longer to tolerate Elric. But Reinhardt—he had slipped into Kael's life like a puzzle piece finding its place. Kael never questioned his presence, even when he didn't understand him.
Reinhardt laughed when he saw the faint shift in Kael's expression.
"See? You agree with me already."
Then he stepped toward the door and opened it. A servant entered quickly in response.
Robert.
"You called, Your Majesty?" Robert said, bowing slightly, though his eyes went briefly to Kael with concern.
"I'll be staying here in Vaelthorn Mansion for a few days," Reinhardt said casually. "Prepare a room next to Kael's."
Robert hesitated, clearly displeased but hiding it beneath his butler's practiced calm. "As you wish."
Kael's eyes widened slightly as the words sank in—next to his room?
"We have many things to do," Reinhardt added with a grin, catching Kael's expression. But the grin didn't soothe him. It wasn't threatening, not exactly… but Kael could sense it—Reinhardt had something in mind. Something he wasn't saying yet.
Later that day, for the first time, Kael was seated in the dining hall—not in private with Robert, not quietly in his room, but at the grand table.
He sat on one side. Reinhardt, now fully in his Emperor's attire, sat beside him at the center. Elric sat across, her posture elegant but rigid, her expression unreadable.
The room was quiet except for the clinking of silverware.
Reinhardt filled the silence freely, speaking as if nothing were strange. He glanced toward Kael now and then, gauging his reactions to his words—smiles, stories, fragments of old memories told like they were just dinner conversation.
Kael didn't speak, but Elric noticed.
He listened.
He responded—not with words, but with his eyes, with his subtle expressions. A twitch of his brow, a shift in his hand. Reinhardt was reaching him, little by little.
"Elric," Reinhardt said after several minutes, his tone suddenly more formal, "how is the mansion faring?"
Elric set down her cup. "Everything is stable. There's nothing to be concerned about, Your Majesty."
Her voice was flat, polite—but not warm.
Kael noticed it immediately. The way she refused to meet Reinhardt's eyes. The distance in her words.
Robert too had been silent the whole meal, standing just behind Kael, attentive but unusually tense.
And Reinhardt?
He didn't seem to care.
He barely acknowledged them, speaking almost entirely to Kael, like no one else at the table mattered.
Kael sat between them—Elric's silence, Reinhardt's forceful warmth. One pulling away, the other pulling close. And him, caught in the middle.
He lowered his gaze to the ring box in his hand.
And silently wondered...