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April 8th, 2029. 10:44 AM.
High Prosecutor's Office, 12th floor hallway.
Nahyuta could remember the day like it was yesterday, although it was almost a year ago now. The day he first found out about Ema Skye’s past, and just how much her older sister’s crimes and motives mirrored his own. Truthfully, he had never treated Ema the same way since.
Over a month after pleading guilty in the initial trial, a higher court sentenced Lana to 16 years in prison, with eligibility for parole after 12 years. With the extensive connections he had built in Los Angeles, it wasn’t hard for Nahyuta to learn all about the case, and about Lana’s prison sentence.
Ema almost never brought up her older sister around Nahyuta. If she did, it was vague and in passing. At first, he assumed it was because such topics weren’t appropriate to talk about with someone you’d just met. But as they grew closer, he realized Ema wasn’t just avoiding the subject out of propriety, but to protect him. To shield Nahyuta from his own crimes.
The most telling clue the regent ever got about the nature of Ema and Lana’s relationship was when Ema’s number one concern regarding permanently moving to Khura’in was if she could still mail letters home.
So they’re still in correspondence? He thought at the time. That’s nice.
The next clue was last week, when the pair were booking the travel arrangements for the flights to Los Angeles, where Klavier and Apollo were holding their wedding. Nahyuta booked his return ticket for the 9th. He had a country to run, after all. Ema requested her return ticket be in a month, May 8th, citing the need for a vacation.
Now, Nahyuta didn’t doubt Ema needed a vacation. But silently, he knew the sudden decision had something to do with Lana’s parole eligibility. Still, he never pushed Ema on the topic.
That’s why, when Nahyuta was leaving for the High Prosecutor’s Office this morning, he didn’t tell Ema where he was really going and why, he told her that he was going alone to explore the sights around the city.
The regent looked down at his hands, his left was carrying an envelope containing a character letter, his right rose to knock on the door. Room 1202, Miles Edgeworth’s office.
“Come in,” called out the voice on the other side.
Nahyuta stepped inside the office, noting how Miles’s eyes widened at his arrival.
“I must say, I wasn’t expecting you, Prosecutor Sahdmadhi,” said Miles.
“I apologize for appearing here unannounced,” Nahyuta responded. He had heard somewhere that saying sorry before asking for a favor greatly increased your chances of receiving aid. “I’m here to… ask a favor of you, Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth.”
“A favor, huh? And what could I possibly do for you?”
Nahyuta placed the character letter at his desk. “Detective Skye has a sister, does she not? One in prison?”
“Yes. Lana Skye,” Edgeworth answered, as he looked at the envelope on his table, but made no move to touch it.
“I understand that I’m submitting this far later than I should have,” Nahyuta said. “But I need this to reach the Parole Board.”
“Sorry?” Edgeworth said, his gaze ticking back up to Nahyuta, a bit surprised. “And how are you supposed to testify to the character of the inmate Lana Skye?”
“You may understand better once you read it,” Nahyuta answered simply. “Please do this for me. I’ll be off.”
“Wait, Prosecutor Sahdmadhi-”
Nahyuta left the office without waiting for Edgeworth to finish his sentence. He had never felt less composed in his life. Everything about this was so impulsive, so emotional, so… improper that even he didn’t understand why he did it, or why it didn’t end with him just writing the letter.
As the regent caught his breath in the hallway, he could only hope Miles gave his letter a chance.
Meanwhile…
Visitor’s Room, Detention Center
Ema Skye sat down in the small detention center chair. It wasn’t very comfortable, but she kind of missed it. She had come to associate it with Lana in a way.
She watched as Lana was brought into the room. One thing Ema never got used to was seeing her sister get treated as some kind of criminal.
“Hey, Lana.”
“Hi, Ema,” Lana responded, offering Ema a smile as she sat down. “Long time no see, huh?”
“You could say that,” Ema responded, not finding it in her to smile back. “I’m sorry I’ve let it be over half a year since we last talked.”
“It’s alright, Ema. I haven’t been counting,” Lana responded, lying through her teeth. “Who knows, maybe I even liked the alone time?”
“Lana…!” Ema responded, pouting slightly. “Don’t even joke about that.”
Lana could only laugh, before asking, “So, how was the wedding?”
"It was great. Klavier and Apollo were so happy, everything was so extravagant and beautiful, and I actually caught the bouquet," Ema said, a small, genuine smile finally appearing on her face, in no small part due to her recollections of Nahyuta that night.
Lana's eyes widened slightly. "Wow, you caught the bouquet? Well, that's certainly something."
"Don't read too much into it!" Ema quickly interjected, her cheeks turning pink. "It's just a dumb tradition. Doesn't mean I'm next."
“Doesn’t it?” Lana teased. “How’s your extravagant prince-regent treating you?”
Nahyuta. Of course she’d bring him up. Ema thought.
Just because Ema hadn’t said much about her sister to Nahyuta, didn’t mean the same was true backwards. But, staying true to her perceptive self, Lana caught on quick as to what was really going on, and didn’t spare any chance to tease her little sister.
"He's… fine, Lana," Ema mumbled, avoiding eye contact.
“Mmm… you’ll need to speak louder to reach me over this glass barrier. What was that?”
“He’s fine, Lana!” Ema shouted out. Then, in a lower voice. “We’re… we’re dating now.”
Lana’s eyes widened, this time out of actual shock. “Oh? Dating? So soon? I haven’t even met the kid!”
“Ugh, that’s the thing! He doesn’t know the first thing about you!”
“Really?” Lana asked, leaning closer to the glass. “Why not? Haven’t you two known each other for a year now?”
“Well, not quite a year, but close,” Ema said. “It’s not exactly something you introduce yourself with, is it? ‘Hi, I’m Ema Skye, and my sister’s in prison!’
“But also…” the forensic scientist continued. “After I got to know him better, I didn’t want to burden him with the knowledge of your case too.”
“And why is that?”
“I didn’t want to end up triggering some… PTSD response, or something.”
Lana opened her mouth to speak, but then leaned back and nodded in realization. “I see…”
“Just this morning I lied to him about you!” Ema explained. “I said I was going out to meet an old friend. I could’ve just said sister, but I was scared he would tag along.”
“Ema…” Lana said, finding the words. “You can’t keep thinking for him. If you think he wants to meet me, then you’ll have to let him.”
“I… suppose you’re right.” Ema responded, looking down at her hands clasped in her lap. “Unfortunately, his flight back to Khura’in leaves early in the morning tomorrow. Duty calls.”
“I see… are you going with him?” Lana asked, a bit sad at the prospect.
“Of course not,” Ema said. “How could I? Your hearing is in three days.”
“Ema, you don’t have to worry about-”
“What are you talking about? Of course I have to worry about it!” Ema said, leaning close enough to the glass to almost bump her head. “And anyway, I’ve already booked a month off work, so you can’t get rid of me now!”
“Presumptuous much?” Lana sighed, a small smile of gratitude forming on her lips. "Thank you, Ema. That means the world to me."
She paused, the smile fading slightly. "But I need you to promise me something."
"What is it?"
"If things don't go my way… if I don't get parole, I need you to go back to Khura'in and live your life,” Lana responded. “Don't wait for me. Don't put your life on hold. You hear me?"
Ema sighed. “I promise.”
“Don’t worry too much,” Lana said, sensing Ema’s nervousness. “I read over the character letter you sent me. It’s sure to free me! Scientifically speaking, of course.”
The tension in the room finally broke, as the two sisters laughed.
Lana couldn’t wait to be free.
April 11th, 2029. 10:00 AM.
Japanifornia State Penitentiary, Parole Hearing Room.
“This hearing is now in session,” announced the board’s chairwoman, an exhausted yet patient-looking woman with round glasses. “Inmate Lana Skye, Inmate Number 1861-21. You have waived formal counsel and chosen to represent yourself for this hearing. Is that correct?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lana’s voice was clear, calm, and professional. It mirrored her days as a Chief Prosecutor.
“Very well. The board has reviewed your file, your institutional record, and the submitted character letters from correctional staff, your caseworker, and the prison psychologist. All are favorable, noting your exceptional conduct, your work in the prison library, and your genuine engagement with restorative programs.”
The chairwoman flipped a page. “We have also reviewed the personal character letter from your sister, Detective Ema Skye, which speaks highly of your character prior to incarceration and the deep remorse she believes you possess."
Ema’s heart hammered against her ribs. She’d poured everything into that letter. The chairwoman looked up. “Is there anything you wish to add, Ms. Skye, before we deliberate?”
Lana took a slow breath. “Only to reiterate my profound remorse for my actions. I abused the public’s trust and the authority of my office. I have spent the last twelve years trying to ensure I am never capable of making the same mistakes again.” Lana’s voice wavered, her eyes flicked to Ema for support. “I believe I have been rehabilitated. I wish only for the opportunity to contribute to society in a positive way, and to return to my sister.”
“Thank you,” the chairwoman nodded, making a note. She shuffled her papers again, and a slight frown appeared on her face. “There is one final submission.”
Lana’s facial expression turned to one of confusion. “I… apologize, ma’am. I was not aware of any other submission.”
“It was received by hand only three days ago, too late for formal inclusion in the review packet. However, given the… stature of the author and its source, we deemed it appropriate to consider,” the chairwoman said, adjusting her glasses. “It is a character letter from His Royal Highness, Regent Nahyuta Sahdmadhi of the Kingdom of Khura’in, currently serving as its head of state and Minister of Justice.”
Ema’s hand immediately flew to her mouth, the air left her lungs, and her wide eyes immediately focused on Lana, who herself was flustered.
Nahyuta? How? How did he know? Why didn't he tell her? What was that letter going to say!? Ema thought.
Lana coughed out in surprise, glancing at Ema and noting her shock, before turning back to the chairwoman. “Ah, Nahyuta Sahdmadhi. Yes, of course.”
“Although it's highly unusual, given the nature of this letter's arrival, I will read the letter into the record,” the chairwoman said, clearing her throat. “To the honorable members of the parole board...”
To the honorable members of the parole board.
I write to you today in the matter of Inmate Lana Skye (Inmate No. 1861-21). I am Nahyuta Sahdmadhi, Regent and Minister of Justice of the Kingdom of Khura’in. While I have no direct, professional connection to Ms. Skye’s case, I feel compelled to submit this statement due to my unique understanding of the situational and motivational context surrounding her actions.
My knowledge of Ms. Skye’s case is derived from a review of public court records, including the transcripts from the initial trial and the sentencing trial. The facts, as adjudicated, are not in dispute. However, in my capacity as a prosecutor who has also operated under an illegitimate and coercive regime, I wish to offer perspective on the concept of duress as it pertains to her initial decisions.
The records indicate Ms. Skye’s criminal actions began not for personal gain, but from a directive issued by a corrupt superior, with the implied safety and well-being of her sister, Ema Skye, serving as the leverage. This is not offered as an excuse for her crimes, as the court has rightly judged otherwise, but as critical context for assessing both culpability and the potential for rehabilitation.
A person who commits a crime under such profound, personal duress, and who has since demonstrated over a decade of exemplary conduct and clear remorse, represents a categorically different risk to society than one who offends for greed or malice.
The Lana Skye who falsified evidence under threat is not the woman that stands before you now. The former was trapped in an impossibly cruel equation; the latter has chosen, day after day, to rebuild trust in her character within the confines of her punishment.
I’m sure the board can agree that rehabilitation is the highest goal of a compassionate justice system. In the absence of evidence to justify it, continuing her incarceration would serve no purpose but pointless vengeance. I urge you, in my capacity as a prosecutor, a head of state, and as an elder sibling, to grant her parole.
With respect,
Nahyuta Sahdmadhi
Regent of Khura’in
Minister of Justice
“… Minister of Justice,” the chairwoman finished reading.
The silence in the room was deafening. Ema’s gaze was downcast, her hands clasped together painfully tight. Her lungs screamed at her, she had forgotten to breathe. She had never reacted so strongly to anything in her life, not without passing out at least. After managing to take some shallow breaths, she picked her head back up.
The chairwoman cleared her throat, setting the letter down on the table, “Ms Skye, do you wish to comment on the content of this letter?"
“I…” Lana began, though she was at a complete loss for words. “I have nothing further to add, ma’am.”
“Very well then,” the chairwoman declared. “The board will now retire for 30 minutes to deliberate.”
The three board members stood up and quietly filed out of the room through a side door. Lana was escorted out the hearing room too, and Ema was asked to return to the waiting room. On their way out, the two exchanged something of a knowing glance and a nod.
Ema fell into the waiting room couch, her elbows on her knees, face buried in her hands. Nahyuta’s letter echoed in her head.
I’m such a fool… Ema thought. I totally underestimated him, didn’t I? I thought if I never told him, he’d never find out!
It wasn’t just the fact that Nahyuta knew that got to Ema, it was the fact that he knew and chose to do something about it. Chose to remind the board of the motive of Lana’s crime, when they’d likely only have been thinking about the charges and sentencing.
But, it wasn’t just the fact that Nahyuta chose to help either, it was also the fact that he helped her by having to recount the most tortured experiences in his life, to pour his heart out into a piece of paper for a woman he never even met.
A quiet shuffle at the door broke her chain of thought. The board members were returning.
Ema quickly ran to sit back down in the gallery, watching as Lana was brought back in.
This was the moment of truth.
“This hearing is back in session,” declared the chairwoman. “Inmate Lana Skye, please stand.”
Lana rose, her hands clasped neatly in front of her.
“We have considered your institutional record, your statements, the supportive assessments, and the personal testimonies provided,” the chairwoman began. “Considering your record, the motive behind your crime in addition to its severity, and the sincerity of your remorse…”
The sisters held their breath.
“…the board finds that you no longer represent a threat to public safety and that your release would not diminish the seriousness of the offense. Parole is granted.”
The words hung in the air for a second, before settling in. Lana’s knees buckled slightly, and she gripped the edge of the table. A single, silent tear falling down her cheek.
Ema’s hand flew to cover her mouth, a choked sob escaping.
“Conditions of parole are as follows,” the chairwoman continued, her voice softening. “You will reside at your approved address, report to your parole officer weekly, maintain employment, and refrain from any contact with individuals associated with your prior criminal activity."
The chairwoman paused to allow Lana to process the information. "Note that you won't be allowed to work jobs involving the law, law enforcement, legal documentation, or evidence until your parole period is over. Full details will be provided. Processing will take approximately 48 to 72 hours. Do you understand these conditions?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lana said, her voice thick. “Thank you. Thank you.”
The formalities ended. As the board members gathered their things, one of the corrections officers approached Lana. “I’ll take you back to processing, Ms. Skye. Congratulations.”
Lana nodded, but her eyes were locked on Ema. She mouthed two words: Thank him.
Ema could only nod, a fountain of tears now streaming down her face.
April 11th, 2029. 3:17 PM.
Gatewater Hotel, Room 401.
Ema laid down on the bed, holding her phone above her head, staring at the clock.
Khura’in is 14 hours ahead… she thought. Three PM plus twelve is three AM, plus two is five. So he should be awake.
On the other side of the world, Nahyuta was also staring at his phone. He hadn’t slept all night in case Ema called.
With a sigh, Ema navigated to her contacts, finding the one labelled ‘Prosecutor Sahdmadhi’. She should probably change that.
After composing herself, she pressed call.
The phone rang once, and Nahyuta answered immediately.
“Hello, Ema,” Nahyuta said. His voice was low, tired, and it immediately broke Ema’s composure.
“H-Hey…” Ema choked out, holding the back of her hand to her mouth.
“You’re crying…” the regent noted.
“Yes, but they’re happy tears,” Ema clarified, sniffling slightly. “It was granted. Parole was, I mean.”
Ema could hear a relieved sigh from the other side. Nahyuta’s voice immediately picked up, returning to a more casual tone. “Oh, Ema. That is wonderful! Congratulations!”
“So you knew, huh? All this time?” Ema asked, her voice a little accusatory. “How? How did you come to find out? About Lana, about the hearing… about everything…?”
“It was… somewhat inadvertent,” Nahyuta answered. “It was the night of our first investigation together, I wanted to know more about who I’d be working alongside. Since then, every time I returned to Los Angeles, I couldn’t help but dig deeper. I’m truly sorry.”
"I'm sorry, too," Ema admitted, her tone softening. "I should have told you. I shouldn't have kept it a secret from you for so long."
"There is no need for apologies, Ema," Nahyuta quickly interjected. "You were protecting me. I understand that now. I… appreciate it. I appreciate that you thought of me."
“I also… appreciate it,” Ema said. “the letter, I mean. Lana told me to thank you."
"I am glad it was well received. And I am even more glad it had the desired effect,” the regent replied, “I did not write it lightly, Ema. That was the most difficult thing I have written in a very long time."
“You really didn’t have to do that, you know? You didn't have to… dig all of that back up for a stranger.”
“Ms. Lana is no stranger, she is your sister,” Nahyuta’s voice was firm now. “Justice can only be served with understanding. If my perspective could provide that, then it was my duty to offer it.”
“There you go, going on about ‘duty’ again,” Ema said, accompanied with a small wet laugh.
“I do have a question, though. If you’re returning to Khura’in this May, then who is Ms. Skye supposed to live with?”
“Ah, that. Miles Edgeworth offered to let her stay for some time till she can find a place of her own and get a new address approved.”
“They… allowed that?” Nahyuta asked, after a slight pause. “Is there no conflict of interest?”
“Well, there is a conflict of interest, but it was overlooked,” Ema explained. “The state government’s trust in Miles Edgeworth borders on complete fanaticism by now, so.”
"I see," Nahyuta said slowly. "That is… a surprising turn of events, but a most kind gesture from the Chief Prosecutor. He holds a great deal of respect for your sister, even after all these years."
"Yeah, I know," Ema murmured. "He's cool like that. Anyway, I should let you go. It's early and you probably have a hundred duties to attend to."
Nahyuta sighed, exasperated. “You’re not wrong. Congratulations once again, Ema.”
“Thank you once again, Nahyuta,” Ema said. “I love you.”
There was a pause on the line.
“I… love you, too. Ema. Goodbye.”
“Bye.”