The trip home that night was far from easy. Cassandra offered me a bunk to stay, but I knew my family was likely already grey with worry; it already past midnight with no word from me. I insisted on going home that night, so they gave me another dose of drugs and ordered me to report to the barracks in two days time. As I left, Cassandra pulled me aside and slipped a silver medallion into my hand.

“Here,” she said, her tone slightly less harsh than before. “Proof that you passed the Trials. Normally we’d do a ceremony for this sort of thing, but your circumstances are special. Make sure you don’t lose it; until you’re knighted, it will show people that you belong to the Duchy of Rhinestadt.”

I gave a tired nod and tried to turn away, but Cassandra caught my shoulder. “You know what that means, right? It gives you power. Make sure you don’t abuse it. Everything you say or do represents the Duchy now… so don’t give me a reason to take it away.”

I wanted to bite back that nothing I could do would reflect worse on the Duchy than what Rhinestadt had already done himself, but I held my tongue and simply nodded again. Cassandra gave me a suspicious glance as if she didn’t trust me… but let me go anyway.

I won’t lie; I dragged my feet on the way home. Sure, I was exhausted, but the weight of my actions sat more heavily on my shoulders than any physical burden. I didn’t mind throwing myself into the fire for Violette; I had entered the tournament with that intention. I would save her no matter how many wounds I sustained, no matter how many humiliations I had to endure - that was the plan. But I, naive and foolish me, completely underestimated Rhinestadt.

Not his intelligence, no - the man was a fool who equated the capacity for cruelty with intellect. Rather it was his brutality that shocked me. He was already horrible enough in the visual novel; the man abused both his daughters for gods’ sake. But now it felt like the visual novel version of him was the polite, censored version. The scary, yet redeemable man who learns to love. Not the psychopath that kidnaps orphans into his secret service, violently threatens twelve year old girls and casually suggests murdering his own subjects.

The empty solace of the night time street settled around me, and before I knew it, hot tears began spilling down my face. I couldn’t hold back once it started; the physical and mental anguish of the day was too much for my prepubescent body to handle. I felt more like a child than I had ever felt before; a weak, useless commoner child, pretending the adult world was a game she could win.

I could sacrifice myself - I was prepared to give my all to bring Rhinestadt down and save Violette, like I was the heroine of my own gods-damned story. But Rhinestadt had seized upon the one thing I couldn’t give up - the one thing that sent its tendrils into my heart and grounded me to the world that I had once thought was only fictional: my family.

The faces of my loved ones flashed through my mind - little Albert and Adelina who had come out everyday to watch their big sister train. Their shouts of encouragement and love turned to screams of pain in my imagination. The sight of my mother offering me water with a patient smile turned into a corpse floating in a river. My father’s rough yet loving guidance turned into a body hanging from the city wall. If Rhinestadt detected even a hint of disobedience, those images would turn from fiction into reality. I had not gotten here alone; I had help every step of the way, and I had repaid that kindness with a threat of death and destruction...

I really was a worthless daughter.

My mother, bless her heart, sat waiting for me on the front porch of our little red house, burning expensive candles to keep the front step lit. I could see the worry in her face, the careful vigilance she had kept as I was off playing the hero. The sight sent another wave of painful, wracking guilt through me. I could barely look at her as I approached, even when her face broke into a relieved smile upon spotting me.

The worst part was that she didn’t even say a word when she saw my filthy, exhausted, tear streaked face. She just stepped forward and wrapped me in the warmest hug I had ever received. That broke down my last barrier as I let out a long, wailing sob - loud enough to set the neighbour’s dog barking.

My father stepped out of the house soon after and joined us, wrapping his enormous bear arms around my mother and I and pulling us close to his chest.

“It’s okay… it’s okay, Freya,” he repeated, over and over again. I didn’t want to hear those words - I wanted to scream and beg for forgiveness. To apologize for being such a horrible daughter - for not being a normal child who would just grow up, get married, have kids and die at a peaceful old age.

“I-I I’m- sor-ry,” I choked out between sobs.

My mother hugged me tighter, having yet to notice my injuries.

“It’s really okay Freya… I’m proud- we’re proud of how far you got.”

My father nodded, his bushy beard scratching my face. “It doesn’t matter if you lost- you already won us over with your determination Freya. I know you’re disappointed but… this is for the best.”

I shook my head, trying to tell them no- they were wrong, that I had gone too far, that their lives were in the hands of a tyrant- but the words choked in my throat, and I could no longer speak. I just held them as my heart cried out, crushed by painful, torturous reality.

My parents asked me no questions that night - they only whisked me off to bed, where I had a fitful sleep full of nightmares. The next morning I made sure to hide the bandages on my back - the last thing I needed was more worry and panic from my family. Instead I slipped out and had my bandages changed at a maternity ward, the only place in the city that would do it for free. The nurse was shocked that they had yet to be stitched, and mournfully informed me that they would scar for life. I just shrugged and told her to patch it up as best she could - scars would likely become a regular part of my life from now on.

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Once I returned home I showed them the medallion, which elicited shock and amazement from the whole family. The twins were especially excited, snatching it from each other to look at it and demanding I tell them everything about the trial. I recounted my story in a cheerful tone, leaving out the gory details while embellishing the fun and amusing parts. When it came to the sword tournament, I lied. I told them that I had earned more points in shooting than I actually had, bumping me into second place behind Beet Barbie. I told them I had fought in the tournament, placing sixth overall, which earned me a squireship. I said nothing about being Lady Violette’s guard. They didn’t doubt me for a moment, though my father jokingly asked if I had stolen the medallion; I laughed alongside him, even though I honestly felt like I had.

My journey into squireship had been a messy one, and it left me feeling dirty and used. My lies had put Edward’s honor into doubt, and even though I hated him, I couldn’t help but feel bad for using him. It… made me feel a bit like Lord Rhinestadt.

As for my parents, despite their pride and congratulations, I could see the worry creep back into their eyes. I don’t think they actually wanted me to succeed, even though they let me go; who would want their daughter to lead the dangerous life of a soldier? Even though the position of Knight came with honor, power and wealth, it was still a very dangerous profession. It gave me all the more reason to cover the rather nasty looking wounds on my back; as for the cut on my hand, I told them it was an accident from the sword tournament, and reassured them that I was well taken care of by the doctors there.

I slept no better the next night. Even though I had managed to mask my true feelings when recounting the story, the feeling of guilt and fear never left me. Truthfully… Truthfully, I did not know what to do. I couldn’t go back to Rhinestadt and say I wanted to quit; not only would that mean giving up on Violet, but I didn’t want to even dare imagine what sort of violence he might inflict upon me for turning tail and running.

I could try to convince my parents to leave; to tell them the truth and get them to flee to another territory. It would mean destroying their lives here - leaving our little home in ashes and turning into political refugees. Not only was it incredibly dangerous, it would mean effectively ruining the lives of my whole family for nothing. It would mean telling my parents my foolishness and greed had destroyed their lives for nothing. But even though it was a confession they deserved to hear; that they had a right to know their lives were being used as a check against me - it was a confession I couldn’t bring myself to do. Even thinking about it left a void in my heart, for it meant admitting that I, and I alone, had trampled over the love that was freely given to me, in my greedy quest for heroism.

That was a guilt I was not ready to confront, even though it weighed down on me like a mountain.

With fleeing off the table, it left only two more options. One was to keep moving forward with my plan. To pretend nothing had changed, and to keep plotting Rhinestadt’s downfall on the vague hope he wouldn’t notice and take revenge. To risk everything for the sake of a girl I had only met once.

The other was to fully commit myself to Rhinestadt. To throw out any notions of getting rid of him, putting aside my disgust and keeping my head down. To stand by and watch as he played his little political games, creeping his tendrils through Violette, the Prince, the Heroine, and the entire Empire. If there was no treachery to detect, then there would be no reason for my family to be threatened. They could live out their lives, entirely ignorant of the mistakes I’d made. Like it had never happened. To sacrifice Violette… To give up on the Duke’s daughter for the safety of my family.

For the first time since regaining the memories of my prior life, my resolve wavered and I was beset by a crippling doubt I could not shake.

I found no answers that night - only doubt and confusion. When dawn finally came a minor fever came with it. My wounds burned in agony as I tried to cover it up, but even the twins noticed my discomfort. I made an excuse about anxiety and hid in my room for the rest of the day, readying my things for the move to the barracks. I would be living there from now on; though we were allowed one day off a week, I was only allowed to leave the barracks occasionally. It was unlikely I would be able to visit my family very often.

Though a dark, twisted little part of me felt that it might’ve been better if I only saw them occasionally. That it would be easier to forget about them, and focus on my mission. The smiles, laughter and occasional worried glances from my family were only weakening my resolve further, and if I had to see them every week I might just give up entirely.

I still hadn’t come to a decision about what to do when the day to leave finally came. I knew I was avoiding it; convincing myself it would be easier if I put that impossible choice off for later. Even still, as I wrapped my family in the tightest hug I could, I was still avoiding the question.

“You’re gonna be so cool!” shouted Adelina excitedly.

“Sthow uth your big shword when you geth ith, Sisth!” Albert followed up.

“I will” I croaked from my father’s enormous bear hug. “It’ll be a while though…”

“You two will have to be much older before I’m letting you get anywhere near a sword,” glowered my father. “Freya worked hard to get here, and you will too if you ever want to wield one.”

“Now, now,” said my mother placatingly as she untangled me from my father’s arms. “I’m sure they don’t need special training to just look.”

Her arms tightened around me as she nestled her head onto my shoulder. “Please, please promise me one thing, Freya.”

I nodded hesitantly. “What is it, Mama?”

“Just that you’ll come home, on the same two feet you’re leaving with.”

I let out a short, strangled laugh as I tried to ignore the wetness that dampened my shoulder. “Of course, Mama. I already promised I’ll come visit when I can.”

She shook her head. “No, that’s not what I mean. Promise me that you’ll always come home. That when you leave for battle, or special training, or whatever dangerous things the Duke will make you do- promise me that you’ll return on the same two feet you left on.”

I swallowed as I contemplated her words. It was an impossible promise; being a knight was a dangerous career where one was required to put their life on the line. Even if I did my job poorly and hid behind my allies, I could still be hit by a stray bullet or a piece of shrapnel. But my mother wasn’t a fool; she knew this. She was simply asking for comfort; an empty assurance that she could hold onto when she fell into the depths of despair.

I leaned into the hug, my eyes now wet with tears of my own. “I will. I promise, Mama.”

My mother hummed, trying to cover her shaking voice. “Good girl… good girl. We’ll be waiting for you.”

I nodded, not trusting my voice to avoid bursting into tears. Breaking free from the hug, I looked over my family one last time; my beloved younger twins, Adelina and Albert, my gruff yet loving lumberjack of a father, and my tiny mother, filled with more love than I had ever experienced in this life and the last. I wiped my stinging eyes and forced out a bright cheerful smile for them to remember; then turned my back on them and walked away. Away from the love I was freely given; from the joy and security of a supportive family and a safe and quiet future. I walked away from it all, and into a future full of uncertainty, danger and evil.