Not long after the girls rushed out of the shop, Freya too took her leave since the shop wouldn't be open for business for that day anyway. Shame followed her every step of the way and even made her stop in the middle of the market and think to herself.

'What have I done?' Alas, her guilt would do little to help her, and so, picking up a few things to give herself the alibi of shopping, she made her way to the inn. Whoever or whatever had made that noise outside their door was hopefully nobody close or of any importance. 'A cat, a mouse, hell, I will even take that slave girl over anyone else.'

Carrying a head heavy with doubts, Freya carried herself on memory rather than sight. A weary sigh escaped her lips, and by the time her head lifted to peer up front, she was already standing in front of her establishment. Shoulders dropped and her fingers and mouth aching from the reminder of that act, she took a deep breath and forced herself to walk in.

As soon as she was inside, however, one of the employees noticed her entering. Without wasting a second, she approached Freya and pointed her in Glyea's direction. The instructor turned unofficial protector of the city was sitting at a table, all alone, with a letter in her hand. Staring at it from multiple angles, the knight kept scanning the piece of paper as if there was some hidden message within the visible letters.

Approaching her with caution, Freya took a seat in front of her. Even so, Glyea kept staring at the letter for a while longer until finally she set it down and moved it towards her.

"I've been recalled to the capital." Resting her right hand on the table, she leaned back in her chair. "I've also been ordered to bring a few people with me. Your son and his companions included, you can read the brief if you don't believe me."

Freya's eyes narrowed in confusion as she glanced down at the letter. Picking it up in her hands, she skimmed through the words, and sure enough, she found her son's name written alongside his companions. Adding to her confusion were Custer and Cecilia's names, notably mentioned as a suspicious merchant with strange contraptions and potions.

"What is this?" She asked.

"A way into the academy? The sages jerking us off for no reason?" Shrugging her shoulders, Glyea relayed just how little she knew. "Either way, I won't advise fighting the order. He needs to be in the capital with me, or else who knows what might happen. My humble opinion? Just do as they say, it's not worth the trouble protesting their orders."

"Easy for you to say," lifting her head, Freya's expression soured. "This is my son we're talking about. I may have lost my royal titles, but I still remember what kind of people those sages are."

Leaning forward with both of her hands now on the table, Glyea blankly stared into Freya's eyes. Holding her gaze for half a minute, she made her look away as a way to push herself into her psyche before pursuing further.

"That is why I'm here. I knew you'd protest–I heard you did go to the academy for half a year, so that's expected." Shifting a little, Glyea entwined her fingers. "But trust me, your elementary education might've helped you set up shop here, but it won't help against the sages if you push back when they're giving you the option to go along with their order. Just play along and see where this goes first before doing anything harsh, alright?"

"But–" Stomping her hand on the table, Freya looked at the knight again, but before another word slipped through her lips, Glyea took over the conversation.

"Look, lady," moving sideways in her chair, the knight grabbed the letter from the table and got ready to get up. "I don't care what you have going on or what you think about the sages, et cetera, et cetera, he's coming with me whether you like it or not. This was… just a form of courtesy since you've been sort of nice to me so far."

Glaring daggers at the knight, Freya struggled to hold her tongue.

"And this is how you repay me for being kind?"

"Nothing personal," getting off her chair, Glyea slipped the letter into her bra through her cleavage. "Just following orders, you should too, before things get ugly. I already saved you guys once, but let's not make it a habit because I'm not going against my superiors and getting my neck hacked off for you."

Freya's knuckles cracked with frustration, and her expression contorted to pure unfiltered rage. In spite of that, all that she could do was watch the woman walking away. She wanted to curse at her at the top of her lungs, but already she'd been embarrassed enough for one day.

"Your own fault, Freya, no good deed goes unpunished," Muttering to herself, Freya promised herself not to help anyone for no reason whatsoever.

Cursing her luck, she shifted her attention to the stairs. Right above, she'd had her last meeting with her son that morning–but right now, he should've been in the forest adventuring. Perhaps after his return, she can talk to him before this sudden departure–or at least she hoped, not knowing that he was, in fact, unconscious in his room at that very moment.

'I need a bath.' Still feeling sticky under her clothes despite rinsing herself down at the shop before leaving, Freya dropped the groceries in the kitchen before moving to her room and getting a change of clothes for herself.

While taking off her clothes in the bathhouse, the fabric was still sticking to her as if the merchant's essence was refusing to let go. The thought was enough to burn her cheeks a rosy red, but not for long, as a long, warm bath was exactly what she needed to drive those thoughts away–temporarily at least, as her troubles and her fall were only just beginning.

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