The cell was relatively large for a prison cell, measuring about three meters deep and five meters long. The floor, walls, and ceiling were made of massive stone blocks, perfectly fitted together to create a surprisingly smooth surface. The sides and the front facing the corridor were made of iron bars, spaced roughly ten centimeters apart. A two-meter wooden bench ran along the only wall, fixed at one end and suspended by two heavy iron chains at the other, likely serving as both a seat and a bed.
Hanging beside the bench was a thick iron collar, along with several other iron rings that could presumably be used to restrain prisoners. There was also a pot in one corner—was that supposed to be the toilet? Was I really expected to use it in full view of everyone? Drats!
Another pot held what looked like water.
As I took in my new 'domain,' Ju was softly speaking to the boy in Elvish, likely trying to calm him down.
It didn't take long for Alice to visit. Lynx had informed her and was likely accompanying her incognito, probably inspecting security in case I needed to escape. After some casual chatting, I discreetly handed her Ju's ring in a small sachet to place in her inventory box. This wouldn't make Alice Ju's master, but it would allow Ju to leave with her.
Just as Alice departed, the red-haired guard who had 'captured' me returned down the corridor.
"You have a visitor," she noted.
I shrugged. "Alice just left."
"No, your butler is here to see you. This is no place for—"
Before she could finish, Mike's voice came from behind her, cutting her off.
"Milady!"
"Mike?!"
The guard, clearly annoyed, turned and pointed back down the corridor. "I told you to wait there!"
Mike shrugged, wearing an innocent expression. "But how could I wait when I heard my lady's voice? As I mentioned to the captain earlier, I'm here to deliver the lady's supper and today's newspapers!"
The red-haired guard snorted and rolled her eyes but didn't protest further, allowing him into my cell and closing the door behind him. Once inside, Mike promptly extracted a small table and a chair from his inventory.
"You'll take that back!" the red-haired guard admonished, pointing at the table.
"Of course, as the captain ordered," Mike replied with a nod. "However, all utensils needed to serve supper are allowed. As soon as the lady finishes her meal, I'll remove everything."
She snorted again, shaking her head in mild exasperation, but left without further comment. I chuckled at his antics, though I felt a bit of comfort in the familiarity of it all. I took a seat while he set the table, carefully laying out a plate and a spoon. He filled the plate with hot soup and placed a couple of newspapers beside it.
"Bon appétit, my lady!" he declared.
I picked up the spoon and took a sip. The soup was delicious, warming me up instantly.
I always thought he'd eventually tire of this butler act. Who really wants to be a butler, anyway? But he kept surprising me, and the truth was, it did help me a lot.
"You made this?" I asked, gesturing to the soup.
He chuckled. "Your ladyship is too kind! I bought it from Friechie's," he explained. As if I knew what 'Friechie's' was. I shrugged and nodded toward the newspapers.
"Anything interesting in there?" I asked. There must have been a reason he'd brought them.
"I took the liberty of picking up the 'Express,'" he said. "It's a progressive student newspaper, but they've got an article about a bloody incident at the palace in this afternoon's edition."
That caught my attention.
"A bloody incident at the palace?" I echoed, picking up the newspaper.
As I read the article, I couldn't make sense of it at first. The story was so far from the truth that I didn't even recognize it as being about me. But as I read on, it became clear they were talking about the incident with the freed slave, and there was a picture—a painting—of me standing over the kneeling boy, surrounded by bloodied guards. The girl in the picture did bear a resemblance to me.
"Is that supposed to be me?" I asked, surprised, looking at the sketch. Mike nodded. As I examined it more closely, I scoffed.
"Oh, I'm looking truly inspiring here, but I doubt my breasts were exposed during the whole ordeal!" I protested, pointing at the page. If I didn't know better, I'd say they were inspired by that famous painting, 'Liberty Leading the People.'
He chuckled. "Must've been either some aftermath of fireball blasts or just artistic license, you know? There's a student movement to ban all slaves, and it looks like they've decided to use you as their symbol."
"I thought there weren't any slaves," I wondered aloud.
"Yeah, I thought so too, but it turns out it's more complicated. Private individuals can't buy or sell slaves in the Kingdom, but the state can. That's the key issue here. War prisoners who aren't ransomed or exchanged become slaves. Debt serfs are basically slaves too, though they have a few more rights and are usually only enslaved for a set period, as determined by a judge, similar to most prisoners. You can rent slaves from the state, but you can't buy or sell them—the state has a monopoly on that. Well, except for those bought abroad."
"Interesting. Then why don't they return an escaped slave to their master?" I asked.
"Because those slaves haven't broken any laws here. They're seen as wrongfully enslaved; they can't be forced back to their masters since they haven't been convicted of any crime that would warrant enslavement."
Just as I was finishing supper, the red-haired guard appeared again.
"A certain Baron Esterghom is here to see you," she announced, looking weary.
I raised an eyebrow. "Baron Esterghom? What could the old man want?" I wondered aloud. "Please, let him in."
She clicked her tongue, looking a bit incredulous. "I want to remind you that this isn't a reception hall," she said, clearly not amused by the situation.
I rolled my eyes, unsure how to respond. She continued, "He has brought a package for you. You should know that any packages must be inspected."
I shrugged, curious about what the Baron could have brought. Cookies, maybe?
"Okay," I agreed.
I turned to Mike. "Do you have any tea?"
He smiled. "Of course!" He removed the empty plate from the table and placed two cups and a teapot on it. He even pulled out a second chair, catching me off guard.
"Oh, I see you're prepared!" I remarked, wondering where he had gotten the inventory item from.
"I got it from Tina," Mike explained, clearly understanding my curious expression.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Five minutes later, the jovial, round face of Baron Esterghom appeared in the corridor. His cheeks were even redder than the last time I saw him, probably from the effort of getting here.
“Baron Esterghom!” I greeted.
“Lady Lores! I'm glad to see you made it safely out of that dreadful forest, but I didn't expect to find you here!” he exclaimed.
I raised an eyebrow, but before I could respond, he continued. “Well, I wanted to return your belongings, and when I heard you were here at the palace instead of your residence, I decided to visit.”
The red-haired guard opened the cell door, feeling compelled to remind him, “Baron, only the items that have been inspected!”
He rolled his eyes as he entered the cell. “Of course!” he assured her as the door closed behind him.
“My belongings?” I asked, unsure of what he meant.
“The robe and... other items you left behind the last time we met on the zeppelin, Lady Lores. Imagine, they insisted on unpacking everything to check!” he explained.
Ah, drats. Now I understood why his cheeks were red. I also wondered if it was from embarrassment or annoyance at having his package inspected.
“Please, take a seat, Baron. Tea or... Mike, do you have some wine?”
“Of course, my lady!” Mike responded promptly.
“No, thank you, tea will be fine. I see you've made yourself quite comfortable here!” the Baron said, accepting a cup of tea from Mike. “Ahem, my wife asked if you could share the address of that lingerie boutique, if you don't mind...”
I rolled my eyes, trying to imagine the conversation he must have had with his wife. We chatted for another ten minutes before he left, wishing me all the best.
Not long after the Baron left, the red-haired guard returned, looking flustered.
"An archwizard is here to see you!" she announced, clearly taken aback.
I looked at her in surprise. "An archwizard? You mean Archwizard Godain?" I asked, recalling the name from the zeppelin flight.
She nodded. "Yes!"
I muttered to myself, "I wonder what he wants."
As she turned to leave, I overheard her muttering under her breath, "Maybe he's bringing another pair of panties?" My sharp ears caught it, and I raised an eyebrow, noticing her face flush even more as she hurried down the corridor.
Mike, unfazed, continued tidying up the table and placed a saucer with biscuits on it. "Do you happen to have more teacups, Mike?" I asked, concerned. He smiled reassuringly and nodded, clearly having anticipated the need.
The archwizard accepted a glass of wine along with some biscuits. The conversation flowed smoothly; he was a very polite old man. He asked about my journey through the wilderness, curious about the uncharted territories, the people, and the creatures we encountered. But eventually, he revealed his true interest: the spell I used to leave the zeppelin. Unfortunately for him, I had to disappoint; I wasn't about to disclose that it was shadow-melding. Even if the spell wasn't solely demon-related, it was close enough that I preferred to keep it to myself.
After the archwizard departed, the red-haired guard returned, looking mildly exasperated.
"You really have a busy social life!" she remarked.
I shrugged. I didn't really have much of a social life, but what could I say?
"Would the young lady care for a glass of wine?" Mike offered, but she shook her head.
"No thanks, I'm on duty..."
"It was just a few visits," I tried to protest.
"A few? That's three already, and the fourth is here!" she retorted.
"The fourth?" I echoed, puzzled. "And why is it always you dealing with my visitors?"
"Because as long as you're here, you're my responsibility," she explained, then added, "A Viscount of Genevais wants to speak with you."
I saw Mike raise an eyebrow, but he gave no other indication that he recognized the name.
"Oh! I'm not sure I want to meet him," I said.
The guard shrugged. "I'm the one who approves visits, not you, and I won't refuse a viscount. You can hide in a corner of your cage and try to ignore him if you don't want to talk to him!"
I was taken aback by her acidic comment.
"Please rest assured that my lady doesn't need to hide in a corner," Mike said, his expression dead serious, leaving the guard a bit flustered as she walked away.
I braced myself for the young, arrogant nobleman to strut down the corridor, but to my surprise, a relatively older man, probably in his late fifties or sixties, appeared. He was partially bald, with the remaining hair covered by a strange hat, and he wore the typical aristocratic attire. I raised an eyebrow at the unexpected sight.
“Lady Lores, despite the circumstances, I'm pleased to finally meet you in person.”
However, his smug grin made it clear he took some satisfaction in my current situation. I sighed inwardly.
"Viscount? Unless you've had an incredibly rapid aging process in the last few days, you don't look quite as I expected," I said, raising an eyebrow. "Would you like some refreshment?"
He waved dismissively at the guard standing by the metal door and gestured towards the bench outside the cell. "I hope you don't mind if I sit out here," he said, taking a seat. The guard nodded and left us.
He sighed, then continued, "It seems to be a trend with the younger generation to introduce themselves with titles 'in spe'. Oh, well..."
I cast Identify on him: “Swordsman, level fifty-three.” He raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing the magic.
“I see you're not wearing mana-draining cuffs. A bit of an oversight on the guard's part, but you should avoid using magic while you're here,” he remarked, with a casual shrug. “But what am I doing? My apologies for the bluntness; my mouth often runs ahead of my intentions. I'm here to discuss a potential arrangement, not to escalate matters. Consider this a friendly warning—not to use magic on other visitors or officials who come to see you.”
I watched him dumbfounded. Meanwhile, Mike took out a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses.
“Would you like some wine, sir?” Mike offered.
I watched Mike, curious to see how he would manage to offer the wine to the viscount, who was standing a couple of meters away from the iron bars. But the viscount waved it off, declining the offer. Mike filled my glass as the viscount continued speaking.
“I’m here because of the unfortunate incident involving my foolish son. His tendency to drink and surround himself with the wrong crowd led to that regrettable situation. Rest assured, I’ve taken steps to ensure it doesn’t happen again.”
“I’m not sure I understand, Viscount,” I replied, puzzled by his sudden change in demeanor.
“I want this dispute to end here,” he explained. “So, I’m asking you to promise not to take any action against my son, and in return, I will refrain from taking any actions against you or your house. He may be a foolish boy, but he’s still my only son.”
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his proposition.
“I should promise?” I asked, a hint of incredulity in my voice. “Wasn't it your son who caused all the trouble?”
The viscount sighed, nodding in acknowledgment. “True, he’s been an idiot, but you’re not in the best position either. A lot of trouble could come your way. Wouldn't it be better to bury this issue now? All I'm asking is for you and your gang to promise not to take any action against my house, and we can consider the matter closed.” He shrugged and added, almost as an aside, “I always prefer to take the high and bloodless road when possible.”
I shot him a glare at the mention of "me and my gang," barely restraining my irritation. Before I could respond, Mike spoke up with unexpected initiative.
“Would your lordship consider a mutual vow?” Mike suggested smoothly. “My lady will promise not to take any aggressive actions, and in return, your lordship and your house will vow the same. Of course, with all the consequences that breaking such a vow entails.”
I raised an eyebrow, surprised at Mike's boldness. The viscount huffed, clearly taken aback.
“Your butler seems to forget that we are not equals!” He looked ready to stand up and leave, but then reconsidered. Addressing me, he continued, “Very well, I agree. It would not be said that the house of Genevais is not magnanimous.”
I nodded, accepting the terms.
“Then we have a deal?” I asked, watching him closely.
He stood up, his expression stern. “Indeed. But mark my words, if any harm comes to my son or my house, you’ll face severe consequences.” He nodded sharply, adding, “We have a deal.”
“The same here, Viscount. So it is agreed, we have a deal!” I replied. As I nodded, a dark cloud seemed to form above us, swirling ominously and flying like a small dark bird to enter his chest. The viscount stumbled back, clearly unsettled by the sensation.
“What was that?” he muttered, visibly rattled as he steadied himself. He looked around, trying to make sense of what had just happened. He hadn't seen the cloud but he had felt the magic.