By Zephyria 
Fate is truly cruel. No matter how hard one tries to avoid it, it ultimately repeats itself in a similar manner.
Cecile leaned his head against the damp stone wall. Each time he exhaled, a white breath escaped, reminding him that the underground prison was still as cold as he remembered.
His thoroughly isolated state was no different. The reality that repeated itself without a single error left Cecile laughing like a madman in disbelief.
It had been half a day since he was trapped in the underground prison. There were no signs of an investigation, and no one came to visit him.
There must be fierce debates outside about whether he should be punished properly or forgiven because he was of royal blood.
Whatever the case, it was clear that he had firmly fallen out of favor with Alexis. Cecile didn’t care about his own reputation, but he was despairing over the fact that the trust he had painstakingly built was crumbling.
As he stared blankly at the sky visible through the window, he heard footsteps approaching from a distance, and a shadow holding a torch began to flicker.
Cecile turned his head towards the sound of footsteps that were gradually getting closer.
His wish that it could be anyone but one specific person was rendered meaningless as Alexis entered the dark prison.
Cecile covered his face with both hands. Facing Alexis was incredibly painful for him. He wanted to stop deceiving him, stop lying, and stop being hurt by his piercing gaze.
Before long, Alexis approached Cecile, who was crouched in the corner. He bent down to match Cecile’s eye level.
“There’s no one here. So be honest with me.”
“……”
“You wouldn’t have done that. Are you planning to take the blame just to save the servants?”
Cecile laughed weakly. To still believe in him, Alexis had changed a lot.
“What’s the difference? Even if the servants did it, I would have ordered them to.”
“Look me in the eye and say that.”
“……”
“Did you really do it?”
Cecile lowered his hands that were covering his face and met Alexis’s gaze. Hearing his coaxing voice made his eyes sting. Right now, he was desperately trying to believe in Cecile.
“Say it’s not true, even now.”
“……”
But Cecile stubbornly held his tongue. As he avoided Alexis’s gaze, Alexis gritted his teeth and glared at him fiercely.
“Was your vow to me a lie? You enchanted me as if you would give me anything, and now you stab me in the back?”
“……”
“You were talking just fine a moment ago, so why can’t you speak now?”
Alexis grabbed Cecile by the collar and roughly pushed him back. With a thud, the impact against the stone wall caused clumps of mud and moisture to fall.
Not only Cecile but also Alexis’s knuckles, which were bulging with veins, became dirty. Even though the noble Crown Prince had come all the way to this filthy underground prison to kneel and give him a chance, Cecile showed no sign of conflict.
In that moment, the last bit of faith he had clung to shattered completely.
Alexis could not bear the fact that Cecile had betrayed him more than the fact that he had tried to harm Yuria.
He threw the dagger he had brought with him against the stone wall. The jewels that adorned the blade shattered against the wall. No matter how precious something is, once it breaks, it cannot be reattached, and it inevitably loses its value.
“I shouldn’t have kept someone like you by my side. I shouldn’t have cared at all.”
“……”
“I’m cursed to have believed in you, even for a moment.”
Alexis immediately straightened up and left. It was a matter of seconds before his footsteps faded away, leaving only silence in the underground prison once more.
Left alone, Cecile finally opened his tightly clenched fist. Four deep nail marks were etched into his soft palm.
The effort to endure had paid off. He thought he would cry when he met Alexis, but he was surprisingly composed.
Cecile wiped the moisture from his eyes with the back of his hand and leaned his head weakly against the stone wall.
* * *
The rumors spread widely.
There was no need for an investigation since there was already enough evidence and confession. It was confirmed that the perpetrator who tried to harm Yuria was Cecile Adrian.
Thanks to the Empress’s active rescue efforts, Cecile was able to be released earlier than expected. However, he could not completely overlook the crime he had committed, so he was sentenced to a week in the confessional of the chapel.
It meant he was to repent all day long. There was no one to attend to him, and his meals consisted only of dry bread, a handful of salt, and water.
Days passed in the cramped confessional, waking and sleeping.
Without light, he could not tell how the day was passing, and the only way to gauge time was when meals were brought in.
Cecile did not want to use the makeshift toilet made from a wooden barrel, so he limited his water and food intake to a minimum. It was only natural that his strength would wane.
Since he had committed no sin, there was no need to seek forgiveness from God. He sat there, leaning weakly, endlessly waiting for this torturous punishment to end. It became increasingly difficult to endure the suffocation.
On the surface, it seemed like an elegant punishment, but in reality, it was no different from breaking one’s spirit and stripping away human dignity.
As he reached his mental limit, Cecile began to pound on the wooden walls, shouting to be let out. Of course, no one in the empty chapel responded.
By the fourth day, Cecile was visibly exhausted. His cognitive abilities had declined to the point where he could hardly distinguish between dreams and reality. In the early morning, someone came to him secretly.
The door to the confessional opened, and a white robe worn by priests flickered before Cecile’s eyes. Without realizing it, he spoke to the figure before him.
“…Please, get me out of here.”
“Not yet. You have to pay for your sins.”
“What did I do so wrong?”
Cecile leaned his head back weakly. The priest’s blunt refusal seemed to wound him, and tears streamed down from his closed eyes.
“Are you sad?”
“Uh… I am sad.”
“Why are you?”
But Cecile had no answer. Perhaps he was still half-asleep, as his head soon drooped, and he fell into a deep slumber. He was likely having a bad dream. His breathing was mixed with sobs, gasping for air.
A large hand reached out and wiped away the tears on Cecile’s face. Alexis pushed back the hood of his robe and looked at the sleeping Cecile.
“Truly reflect on this. Then come to me and sincerely apologize. I won’t take you back, though.”
On the day the promised week ended, the servants of Peridot Palace gathered in front of the chapel early in the morning, waiting for the door to open.
The few remaining minutes felt like an eternity.
It seemed they could afford to be a little flexible, but the strict executioners insisted on adhering to the rules, and the servants were left anxiously pacing.
Finally, the door opened. Cecile emerged slowly, supported by the executioners. His already thin frame was even more emaciated, and his once smooth skin, lips, and hair were all in disarray.
As soon as the servants saw Cecile, they burst into tears and rushed towards him. The group, united as if they were family separated by war, embraced each other, sharing joy and sorrow.
“…It’s all over now, it’s okay.”
Cecile comforted the servants, speaking maturely. His faint smile truly seemed like a release.
He had to spend several days resting in bed. Having drastically limited his meals, it was difficult for Cecile to consume anything immediately.
The servants brought him porridge made with honey and milk at every meal, trying to get even a spoonful more into his mouth, and they tenderly massaged his stiff limbs, taking good care of their master.
Thanks to that, Cecile was able to regain his strength quickly. He gradually increased his food intake. His pale and gaunt complexion remained, but that was something time would resolve.
It was two days later that Johannes came to visit Cecile again. Unable to enter the chamber, Johannes hesitated until Cecile gestured for him to come in.
“…Are you okay?”
“Just as you see. Neither bad nor good.”
“I… didn’t know you would suffer this much.”
“I’m really sorry,” Johannes said, bowing his head sincerely in apology. He didn’t have the courage to face Cecile.
Cecile had thought he would be immediately exonerated because he was of royal blood. Having gone through more hardship than expected, Johannes had also spent a guilty week.
Even if he tried to act nonchalant, facing Cecile and his servants made the guilt tighten around his heart.
“Johannes, it’s all in the past. I don’t want to discuss this with you anymore.”
“Cecile.”
“If we’re done talking, could you please leave? I want to rest.”
Cecile waved his hand, showing signs of fatigue. At least he was relieved to be able to have a conversation. Johannes nodded and turned to leave, feeling the chill of Cecile’s response.
The day to return to the Temion Kingdom was not far off. Johannes now stood at a crossroads of choice.
Would he muster the courage at last? Or would he become a coward and flee back to his country? Everything depended on Johannes’s will.