I'd Rather Haunt You Forever
"Esilla?"
"Yes. Lady Bellaph."
The red-haired knight. Esilla was looking down at me.
Esilla de Argent. Member of the Imperial Guard and top of the academy's swordsmanship rankings. And Adrian's loyal sword.
In the original story, she was a rigid knight whose attitude varied wildly depending on the player's actions. If you committed too many atrocities, she'd draw her sword without a word. But if you did good deeds, she'd become a reliable ally.
I used her as a companion often myself.
But the problem was that I was now Bellaph. Considering the rumors spreading through the academy and what I'd done at the social gathering... well.
She won't just chop me down on the spot, right?
That sword at her waist looked ominously threatening.
"I've come at His Highness's command. I'll escort you, Lady Bellaph."
"Ah."
That damn crown prince. He'd sent Esilla because he didn't want to come himself.
Still, if that was the reason he was summoning me, I could relax a bit. He wouldn't drag me off to some dark corner and slit my throat.
"Where are we going?"
"His Highness awaits in the reception room on the first floor."
With that, she flung open the prison door. It screeched like a scream from the rusted hinges.
Finally, an escape!
Well, not really—just temporary freedom. But I was thrilled at the thought of breathing fresh air. At least for a little while, I'd say goodbye to this foul moldy stench.
I tried to stand up in excitement, but...
Physical abilities temporarily reduced due to low stamina.
My legs gave out.
Fuck.
My body crumpled onto the hard stone floor with a thud.
At that moment, a firm arm caught my waist.
"Be careful."
She helped me stand, supporting me.
"If walking is difficult, I can carry you to the reception room."
"I'm fine. Just a momentary dizziness."
What, carry me the whole way? It wasn't that far.
Esilla's brow furrowed at my words.
"Then move quickly. Do you intend to keep His Highness waiting?"
"...I'm going. I said I'm going."
I gritted my teeth and took a step. She seemed about to say something but closed her mouth and matched my slow pace.
Step by step.
As we walked the narrow prison corridor, she kept glancing at me sideways. Was there something on my face?
"Have a safe trip."
Behind me, the princess's voice came softly.
///
The reception room was on the first floor. From the underground prison to the first floor.
Every step up the stairs felt like my lungs were ripping apart.
"Huff... huff..."
My breath rose to my throat, heart pounding like mad.
Physical abilities temporarily reduced due to low stamina.
Just a few stairs, and it was this bad? I hadn't realized my physical condition was this wrecked.
"Hoo... hoo..."
Finally at the reception room door, I caught my breath.
Ah. I'm seriously gonna die.
"Are you alright?"
Her tone sounded concerned, but her eyes were still cold as she eyed me.
"I'm... fine... huff... let's... go in."
"Yes. Then."
The heavy reception room door creaked open.
It was a bit larger than the prison cell, but somehow even more barren and frigid. The only furniture: a table and chairs.
On the table sat simple refreshments and black tea. And in the center, a man in ornate uniform sat with legs crossed.
Blond hair, blue eyes. Chiseled features dripping with arrogance.
The empire's crown prince and the saintess route's hero. Adrian von Theodor.
"You're here."
He scowled the moment he saw me, eyes like he was staring at filth.
"You look like hell. Then again, fitting for someone who's dabbled in black magic."
This guy picks a fight the second our eyes meet.
"Sit."
I didn't want to obey the crown prince, but I was too out of breath to care.
I staggered to the chair opposite and collapsed into it.
Ignoring me, Adrian sipped his tea.
"Want a cup? You won't get chances like this locked in prison."
"No need. Get to the point."
"Hah, straight to business then."
The crown prince tossed an envelope onto the table.
"Sign it."
It bore the imperial seal.
"What's this?"
"Read it and see."
Inside was a boldly titled paper: Annulment Oath, and a pen.
The content was simple. Elise de Bellaph annuls her engagement to the crown prince. All blame for the annulment lies with Elise. In exchange for using forbidden black magic, instead of execution, she'd be exiled to the borderlands—sparing her life.
A classic carrot-and-stick ploy.
"It's already been discussed and approved within the palace. Just sign, and we'll send you to a convent quietly, no one the wiser."
Adrian nodded toward the pen.
Honestly, not a bad deal. I had no interest in staying engaged to a guy. And dodging execution on top?
Obviously, I should take it.
I picked up the pen. Scribbled my name without hesitation—then paused.
What happens if I annul this?
The pen halted.
The crown prince's fiancée spot becoming vacant in this world meant Lilliana would take it, per the route.
Ending 999: The Saintess of the White Light Church, and the Hero's Wife.
That horrific ending flashed in my mind. Lili marrying that guy and living with him forever?
No fucking way.
Not even over my dead body.
My top priority was making Lilliana happy. And for that, I had to stay by Adrian's side.
Riiip.
I tore the oath in half without hesitation.
Adrian's eyebrow twitched.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Don't wanna."
I scattered the shreds across the table.
"No annulment."
"Ha..."
He let out a disbelieving scoff.
"No need to ask why, I suppose. That attached to power? Or still hung up on me?"
His blue eyes flickered with anger.
"It's obvious who you'd put in that spot if I annulled."
"What?"
"Lilliana. I know all about your schemes to put that girl by your side."
Adrian's face hardened.
"Don't you dare speak her name. As if filth like you could—"
"Better I stay your fiancée forever than watch that! Even if my head's chopped off and I become a ghost, I'll stick to you like gum!"
"Y-You mad bitch...!"
Adrian's face flushed red. His hand went to his sword hilt but trembled without drawing.
Apparently, publicly beheading his fiancée was a bridge too far for his image.
"Esilla!"
He finally barked at her behind him, fuming.
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Throw this bitch back in prison. And until the trial, not a drop of water."
With that, unable to contain his rage, he stormed out.
Bam!
The door slam echoed through the room.
Heavy silence descended.
"...Haa."
Tension released, dizziness surged back.
Stamina critically low. If Stamina reaches 0, INSTANT DEATH.
I know, no need to tell me.
My vision spun.
Guess I overdid it.
"Get up."
Esilla, now beside me, yanked my arm roughly—far harsher than before.
"Ow..."
"Don't whine. You rejected His Highness's mercy."
Esilla dragged me kicking and screaming back to the underground prison.
///
"In you go."
Less than ten minutes after leaving, back in the underground prison.
Clank.
Esilla shoved me inside and locked the door.
I collapsed limply to the floor, gasping raggedly.
"Haa... haa..."
My body burned like fire. Every breath felt like my lungs were scorching.
It wasn't just low stamina anymore. Pushing too hard had worsened my condition drastically.
Status ailment added: Exhaustion
At this rate, I'd really die.
Then, at the edge of my vision, I spotted the potion.
Trembling, I reached out—but it was just out of grasp. A mere handspan away.
No helping it.
"Um... Esilla..."
I called out to Esilla, who was heading out.
She turned, looking down with eyes mixed contempt and disgust.
"What now, Lady Bellaph?"
"Just... one sip..."
"Did you forget His Highness's order? Not even a drop of water."
"Not water... that..."
My shaky finger pointed to the HP potion in the basket.
"Give me... that..."
"..."
"I feel like I'm dying..."
Pride be damned. Survival first.
Esilla's gaze flicked between the potion basket and me.
"His Highness said not even a drop of water."
"That's... not water..."
Her eyebrow twitched at my forced logic.
Deep conflict crossed her face briefly.
Then, slowly, she bent down and picked up the potion bottle.
I'm saved.
I figured she'd open the door and hand it over politely.
But Esilla didn't open the door.
Instead, she uncorked the potion.
Slowly approached the bars and crouched.
"Come closer."
"Huh...?"
"You look too weak to even lift a hand. If I give you the bottle, you'll just drop and shatter it."
She thrust her potion-holding hand through the bars—just enough for the mouth to poke inside.
"If you want it, come take it."
She whispered lowly.
"..."
High-grade potions don't break easily from impacts. It wouldn't shatter if I dropped it...
But I crawled across the floor to the bars anyway.
Leaned my forehead and cheek against the cold iron.
The red bottle in Esilla's hand sloshed tantalizingly before me.
As I reached out, she pulled it back slightly.
"Not with your hands."
"..."
"Open your mouth."