By Zephyria 
In the underground prison, the shadow of death loomed heavily.
Not a single ray of sunlight penetrated, leaving the air chilling enough to freeze bones and flesh. It wasn’t merely the low temperature; it was the fear and dread of those trapped inside that consumed the space.
The deeper one went, the more severe the conditions became.
Rotting mold covered every surface, and rats and insects swarmed everywhere. The long-stale, metallic smell of blood mixed with the prisoners’ indiscriminately discarded excrement made it nearly impossible to breathe.
Yuria carefully stepped forward, following the torchlight. The cries of prisoners begging for their lives echoed from all directions. Trying to turn a blind eye, she stepped on the sunken stone floor, and the hem of her green dress became stained with filthy water, turning black.
“Yuria, be careful down there.”
“…Yes.”
The man walking ahead slowed his pace and guided her toward a smoother path.
They passed through dense iron bars and headed to the very end. The place they arrived at was slightly different from the prison they had seen so far.
It was the only place with a window. Though it was too high to reach, one could at least watch the sun rise and set from a distance.
A faint shadow of the moon poured in through the small window. Tonight, the mournful moonlight illuminated one person.
The man inside the prison showed no sign of movement, even upon hearing footsteps. He merely kept his head down, eyes closed, indifferent even as a rat came to gnaw at the dry bread beside him.
The clothes the man wore were evidently of high quality.
Yet, his emaciated wrists and bare feet bore no signs of health, and a thick chain was fastened around his slender neck.
It was a testament to how someone who had once been at the top had fallen to the depths.
His once fragrant, glossy dark brown hair was now matted and stiff with sweat and dirt, having long since split. The spots where his fingernails and toenails had been pulled out were crusted with dark blood. It was a clear mark of brutal torture.
Cecile had committed a grave crime. Once, he had boasted power second only to the crown prince of the Verka Empire, but now he was imprisoned in the darkest, deepest part of the underground prison.
The man leading the way, Claude, easily opened the prison door using his position as the commander of the knights. His smooth leather boots stepped onto the cold ground. Despite the distinct sound of his footsteps, the prisoner remained motionless. It was unclear whether he was dead or alive; even the chains did not rattle.
“A sentence has just been passed.”
The heavy voice delivered the news.
Only then did the limp arms twitch slightly. The connected chains clinked, making a rusty sound as they fell beneath his hunched shoulders.
Cecile barely lifted his eyelids. Despite the harsh torture, his face remained pale and dignified.
The moment Claude saw his emerald eyes, he frowned as if confronted with something repulsive.
Damn bastard, still looking down on people even at this moment.
“Tomorrow morning, you’ll be exiled to the Black Forest.”
At those words, Cecile let out a derisive laugh. Though he smiled, his face looked as if it could shatter at any moment.
“That’s more lenient than I expected. I thought you would execute me.”
“Your supporters in the Senate are numerous. It seems your efforts to charm the nobles have paid off.”
“Don’t make me laugh, Claude. You know this is a death sentence.”
Claude glared at Cecile with a cold, hardened expression. He knew the truth. Even well-trained knights easily lost their lives in the Black Forest. Entering a forest teeming with monsters without any weapons was akin to committing suicide.
“Why did you do such a thing? What did you gain by killing Yuria?”
Claude stepped closer, his voice low. He wanted nothing more than to twist that neck right then and there, but since a sentence had already been passed, he couldn’t touch him. His tightly clenched fist trembled with suppressed rage.
“Are you curious about that now? Do you think I would tell you, even if you pulled out all my fingernails?”
“You treacherous bastard.”
“How original.”
Cecile chuckled lightly even after hearing the curse. He forced a smile, causing the skin on his dry lips to crack. The blood that had already stained his lips deepened.
“I knew you were cruel, but I didn’t expect you to keep your mouth shut until the end. Didn’t you think that leaking secrets could lead to the downfall of the Empire?”
A month ago, Cecile had sold the Empire’s secrets to a hostile nation in exchange for the kidnapping and murder of Yuria Beatrice. Fortunately, the crown prince and his knights managed to rescue Yuria just before things turned dire. Consequently, all of Cecile’s actions came to light.
It was a matter that could warrant immediate execution, but simply because he was a member of the royal family, a formal trial was held.
Cecile’s mother, Empress Elizabeth, desperately tried to plead for her son’s forgiveness, while Crown Prince Alexis sought to deliver a fitting sentence. The week-long struggle ultimately ended in the crown prince’s victory.
“I just wanted that woman gone. I wished for her to disappear from this world.”
Claude’s patience crumbled at Cecile’s candid confession. Just as he reached out to grab Cecile by the neck—
“Claude, please! Don’t do that!”
A weak voice instantly halted the man’s actions. Yuria had followed them into the prison. The small-framed woman knelt on the filthy ground, unconcerned about her dress getting dirty.
“Cecile. I don’t expect everyone to like me. You must have your reasons for hating me.”
Then, a small, warm hand rested on Cecile’s arm. Despite her fear, she offered him warm comfort. Truly, she was the saint who loved all.
In response, Cecile laughed as if he had lost his mind.
“You still don’t get it, do you? You pitiful woman. I tried to kill you. How dare you pity me? Do you think you have the right?”
“That bastard still…!”
Claude’s outburst was halted by Yuria’s hand. After giving him a stern look, she turned her head away again.
“Cecile. You are a gentle and weak person. I know better than anyone that your nature is not evil.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Yuria! Have you forgotten what humiliation you suffered because of that bastard? He isn’t worth your pity!”
The shouting was deafening. Watching Claude, who was furious for not being able to kill him, and Yuria, who forgave everything like a saint, put a smile on Cecile’s face. He looked down at the ground, chuckling dryly.
“…If you came here to hear an apology from me, forget it.”
“An apology is fine. I just wanted to pray for you.”
“……”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t persuade His Highness.”
At her words, Cecile’s eyes stung. It wasn’t because Yuria’s sincerity reached him, but because someone her words reminded him of.
“I hope you receive God’s blessing.”
Yuria tilted her head and kissed Cecile’s roughened left cheek. Contrary to the rumors, there was no special aura in the saint’s blessing. Yet, Cecile felt more at peace than ever.
“I… don’t believe in God.”
He swallowed the sob that rose in his throat. Cecile refused to shed a single tear, determined to maintain his selfish and cunning nature.
“My prayers have never been answered.”
A hollow mutter escaped him. Yuria gazed at Cecile with sorrowful eyes.
“It is said to be the last favor He grants.”
“……”
Yuria silently placed the dagger she had brought on the ground.
The luxurious jewels embedded in the scabbard and hilt failed to shine in the dark underground prison. However, the engraved pattern was clear to Cecile’s eyes.
A brave lion and shield symbolizing the royal family. Two swords.
A definitive mark that only the heir of the Empire could possess.
He had committed heinous acts just to possess this. In truth, he had only wanted the person who held it. Foolishly, he had lived for years without even realizing his own heart.
From the moment the crown prince’s sword was drawn, Claude could not let his guard down. He had to separate the two quickly, fearing that Cecile might harbor ill intentions toward Yuria.
While he hesitated, sending Yuria back outside the prison, Cecile could only stare blankly at the dagger lying at his feet.
“It is too precious to give to someone like you.”
Claude returned and spoke in a sharp voice.
“…True. What do you expect me to do with this?”
Despite his indifferent reply, Cecile’s gaze was filled with longing. It was so precious that he couldn’t even touch it; he could only take it in with his eyes, the dagger the crown prince had given him.
The reason the crown prince sent the dagger was obvious. Once exiled to the Black Forest, Cecile’s fate would be either torn apart by monsters or starve to death. It was one or the other.
If that were the case, it would be better to end his own life like a royal. The crown prince’s last mercy was brutally cold and harsh.
“He said he would personally take care of your corpse. Though it won’t be buried within the capital, it would be better than becoming crow food.”
“Ha, how kind.”
Cecile quietly closed his eyes. A torrent of emotions surged within him. He swallowed it down, forcing it down his throat. His trembling eyelids struggled to rise. His emerald eyes, filled with regret, stared at the knight commander’s rough face.
“You said you were curious about the reason?”
“……”
“Let’s make a deal. If you teach me how to wield a sword, I will also tell you the truth.”