Another day in the hideout house was coming to an end. The day similar to the ones she was having from the point she had moved there. It has been six months already, and this torture went on and on, day after day. Historia was tired. She was tired of spending time with only one person this whole time, tired of this exhausting pregnancy, tired of feebleness, and tired of not knowing if her friends were safe and sound, especially Eren.
Why did they have to hide her here? Everyone would eventually know about an heir to the throne, why keep it secret? It would have been easier to protect her in the capital, if that was the main concern. She had a theory though that they were hiding her from Eren, who had lost the trust of the higher-ups.
Her train of thoughts was interrupted by her friend, a farmer who agreed to play a role of her partner.
"Historia," he said calmly, "a group of people is heading toward the house. It's probably the Military police, will you meet with them or should I do it instead?"
Historia sighed. She was at her last month of pregnancy and it was a bit had to get up and stand on her feet, but nevertheless she wanted to talk to the Military police. They could at least give her some information about what was going on.
"I will meet them, thank you." She said and got up.
The warm rays of the setting sun kissed Historia's cheeks as she left the house to wait for the group on the porch. She smiled and closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth. She was already hearing the voices of the upcoming people, and heard that the farmer went out after her and joined her at the porch, but didn't open her eyes just yet.
And then suddenly the voices broke off, and the group seemingly stopped.
Historia opened her eyes to see what was happening and gasped. About 60 meters from her there was no Military police. It was a group of people with no military clothes, and in the head of it stood Eren.