RAL 15

Selestin was dragged away without a word.

The underground prison she was taken to was damp, freezing, reeking of filth, and utterly disgusting. Even being thrown into a sewer might have been preferable.

“Ha… damn it…”

Sitting alone behind the iron bars, her face reflected pure disbelief and anxiety.

‘How… am I supposed to get out of this…?’

Of course, she had anticipated serious trouble if anyone found out what she had done to George.

‘Why did everything have to go so wrong? Where did it all start to unravel?’

Lost in thought, Selestin suddenly let out a small “Ah!” as realization hit her.

In the original story, George had been dragged away by soldiers, kidnapped on Hella’s orders, and later killed by Dvaltin after the banquet. But this time, things were different. It wasn’t soldiers—her mother, Yeriel, had personally taken him. That small change in events set off a chain reaction.

For main characters, this minor deviation might have seemed inconsequential, but for supporting characters like Selestin, it was catastrophic.

…Now was definitely not the time to worry about Dvaltin.

She glared down at the shackles clamped around her ankles with a grim expression.

“What… the heck… eek…”

Her eyes fell on dark crimson stains on the floor—blood, though whose was impossible to tell.

No. She did not want to die here, tortured in this wretched place. Selestin quietly screamed inside.

‘Asha… won’t be of any help. At the palace right now, her influence is weaker than Yeriel’s.’

…Then Dvaltin?

“Cut the nonsense, Selestin Winsel.”

“…”

“You know what Greg Winsel is planning, I told you earlier. And you expect me to just do nothing?”

No… unless Dvaltin suddenly went mad, he won’t come to help me.

Acknowledging this obvious truth to her core, Selestin tore at her hair.

I only know those two at the palace…

In the worst case, I could actually die here… even if I can’t confront Hella, Yeriel is still someone from the palace.

Just then, a sound of footsteps echoed ahead.

Yeriel? Or an assassin sent by her? Coming to torture me already? Or kill me?

Panicking, Selestin lifted her head and widened her eyes in shock.

“No matter what you’re planning, you’ll regret it! How dare you act like this, knowing who I am!”

…and in front of her, standing with a flushed, furious face, was none other than Greg.

“Father!”

Selestin blinked, stunned.

“Father, did you come to rescue me?”

It seemed the count did have some influence. If only she had pretended to be obedient, maybe she’d have been rewarded sooner. Her eyes sparkled with hope.

…But the reply was absurd.

“No. I was captured too.”

“What?!”

Selestin’s expression froze in disbelief.

“Both of you, wait here. Lady Yeriel will arrive shortly.”

Soon, Greg’s ankles were shackled just like hers, and with an annoyed expression, he stepped into the cell.

Wow… becoming prison buddies with my father…

Greg plopped down beside her, confirmed there were no others around, and whispered into her ear.

“Technically, we didn’t even try to kill him, yet here we are framed. All we did was lightly tap his head with a silver tray.”

Lightly?

“Anyway… that George Bacalar, that bastard…”

“But Father, George is of the royal bloodline. Are you saying the emperor’s the bastard then?”

“Who cares. Not my problem.”

Greg muttered, clearly irritated.

“So… you’re just going to take torture lying down?”

“Why would I? I hate pain. You might like it, but not me.”

“Who enjoys pain? Not everyone’s a masochist.”

“Exactly. So there’s a way out. There has to be a way.”

…Really?

Greg was strange, but he had some influence within Yeshua and connections with nobles.

“Dvaltin will come to save us.”

“…”

“We’re in this mess because of him, but he won’t ignore it.”

Selestin felt her patience wearing thin.

“If that were true, he wouldn’t have let us get captured. And he even said I should be Asha’s companion.”

“Father… if he meant to help, why wouldn’t he prevent this from happening in the first place?”

“He’s probably just busy.”

This crazy man…

“Seriously… isn’t there any other way? Like knowing Yeriel’s weakness, or a friend who can pressure her? Something plausible.”

Right. Lete probably wasn’t run for nothing. They’d have lots of intel.

“Nope.”

Her last shred of hope evaporated within seconds.

“I don’t care about Yeriel or George. Those two are irrelevant to succession. Do you think I came here to investigate nobodies?”

“Uh… here… the prison?”

“Quiet.”

Greg frowned deeply.

“So… what’s the plan? Look at the situation! At this rate, both you and I could easily end up beheaded!”

“See… there’s a way.”

“What nonsense is that?!”

Ignoring her, Greg smirked and whispered softly.

“He’s here to save us.”

“Who?!”

“Dvaltin Bacalar.”

Selestin whipped her head toward the front.

And there he was. A few steps away, looking down at them with that inscrutable expression of his.

…Am I dreaming? No matter how many times I blink, he doesn’t disappear.

Impossible…

If it were Asha, she might be less shocked. But him? Yesterday he had been glaring at me. Did he take something?

“I’ve been waiting, Your Highness.”

Greg spoke first, with dramatic seriousness.

“I never imagined you’d ignore us being unjustly imprisoned. I trusted you would help.”

“As Your Highness knows, Selestin and I have done nothing wrong. This is clearly a scheme to drive a wedge between us and Your Highness.”

“…I know a noble who might help.”

Over Greg’s frantic chatter, Selestin recalled something Dvaltin had said once.

‘Daring to covet the throne, greedily seeking power…’

“And you know I can do anything for Your Highness, and that I am a noble with enough influence.”

“But a foolish noble, with no real ability.”

No… please, just be quiet…

Thwap!

Selestin used her grimy hands to clamp Greg’s mouth shut, silencing him.

“Y-Your Highness…”

Thoughts spun endlessly in her head, but one conclusion stood out:

She had to ask Dvaltin for help.

Even if it meant begging on her knees until her hands and feet went numb.

It was annoying, but what else could she do? Survive first.

“Your Highness, I think Lady Yeriel has misunderstood… or not exactly… well, I believe you know what I mean…”

Steeling herself, Selestin bowed and began to sob in the most pitiful voice she could muster.

“If you save me and my father, I will never forget your kindness until the day I die. I’ll diligently accompany Princess Asha, and if you wish, I will stay out of your sight entirely.”

“What? What are you saying, you fool!”

Greg whispered.

“Father, please be quiet… Whatever else you want me to do, I’ll do it. Even if it’s to pretend to die—well, I can fake a gut-splitting death.”

“…Or you can make me your servant. I know nothing, so it would be frustrating for you, Your Highness, but I will try.”

“…I swear it before God. I’m sincere.”

Still no reaction…

Selestin finally peeked up.

“Huh?”

And she was flabbergasted.

The cell door was wide open, and a young man stood there holding a key.

“What… what is this?”

“Greetings. I am Whisner, Your Highness’s royal guard.”

“Uh?”

“You can play dead or pretend to be a servant later, but for now, you should come out.”

Judging by the twitch at the corner of his mouth, he was barely holding back laughter. Meanwhile, Dvaltin watched them from a distance, his gaze full of disdain.

Ah… why didn’t he just tell me to come out earlier…

Suppressing her cursing, Selestin stepped out with Greg.

“Follow me.”

Dvaltin spoke, and she nodded eagerly.

“Yes! We need to discuss the next steps anyway!”

Greg answered first.

“Not me.”

“Huh?”

“You. Selestin Winsel.”

Dvaltin let out a short sigh and started walking, not looking back.