Prisoners Are Not Guests
"You are a coward." Kardia Noxbell said it again. Her voice was low, but low did not mean weak. It was like a blade stripped of its scabbard; though she had been disarmed, her words still held a sharp edge.
I placed my hand over the Prisoner Registry.
"Do not record that."
The scribe’s pen froze. Kardia’s eyes locked onto mine. I continued, "Sentiments are not recorded twice in the prisoner registry."
The room fell silent. Had I gone too far? I knew I had. But strangely, once the words left my mouth, they felt perfectly tailored to the moment. A prisoner reception room. An ex-girlfriend with her hands bound. A name written on the first line. And the declaration that sentiments aren't recorded twice. At this point, it wasn't just revenge; it was administrative gaslighting.
The problem was, it was effective. Kardia’s lips tightened.
"I did not trespass into Black King Castle."
"That is correct," I nodded. "I let you in myself."
"Then I am not a prisoner—"
"And you are not an envoy," I cut her off. Kardia’s jaw set hard. "Envoys carry letters of credence." I glanced at her bound hands. "You carried a sword."
Kardia had no answer.
"Guests receive invitations," I continued. "You walked in between the tips of spears."
A beat of silence.
"Do generals follow military orders?" I pressed my fingertip against the first line of the registry. "You followed the orders of the rebel army."
Her eyes burned. It was rage. It was humiliation. And it was the look of someone struggling against a truth they refused to acknowledge.
"Therefore, Kardia Noxbell," I said, "you are neither an envoy nor a guest."
The candles in the room flickered low. "You are a prisoner."
The chains binding Kardia’s wrists rattled ever so slightly. Clink. The sound suited her too well. Damn it. It shouldn't have.
"You are a coward."
"I have already heard that."
"You deceived me."
"I never promised you a truce."
"You showed room for negotiation."
"That is simply what you wanted to believe."
Kardia’s face contorted. Ah. That one might have hit a bit too hard. But I couldn't back down. If I retreated now, I would be regressing to those helpless days—to the question of why I didn't kill my sword-wielding ex-girlfriend. So, I stepped on her pride once more. Precisely. Politely. Like a ledger in Black King Castle.
"I let you live," I said. "I let you return with what you had seen."
"Was that a lure?"
"No." Kardia’s eyes wavered. I added, "You were not the lure. Your own complacency was."
Her breath hitched. I gritted my teeth internally. Damn it. I hadn't used my ex-girlfriend as bait; I had used the delusion she harbored as bait. It sounded like wordplay, but it was different. I had seen how, in the political arena, such differences determined whether one’s head stayed on their shoulders or fell.
"You..." Kardia gritted her teeth. "You are not the Prince Lucion of the past."
"Indeed," I replied immediately. "I am the Demon King."
She froze again. Good. I had to keep cutting off that title. The old Lucion she called for was already dead. I couldn't let her stab me with the name of a dead man.
"Where is the sword?" I asked. The scribe looked up.
"It has been confiscated. It is currently in the Black Armor Guard’s storage."
"Did you classify it as war booty?"
"Not yet."
"Do not label it as war booty."
For the first time, Kardia’s gaze faltered. The sword. Her sword. The blade that countless soldiers had trusted and followed during the defense of Noxvine. The object Kardia Noxbell had likely gripped before she even learned to write her own name. I said, "Store it as evidence in the process of capturing a rebel officer."
The scribe’s pen moved. Scratch. Scratch. Kardia’s face went rigid. That look. It was good. Very good. No, I shouldn't think it was good. Damn it. The taste of pinning an ex-girlfriend’s pride into a filing cabinet was too intoxicating.
"Are you insulting my sword?"
"No," I shook my head. "I am classifying it accurately."
"A sword is the honor of the battlefield."
"Right now, it is evidence of treason."
Kardia swallowed her words. She might have preferred mockery. For me to laugh, to sneer, to give her someone she could hate with a clear conscience. But I did not laugh. Laughter gives her an opponent to fight. Records give her no room to push back. They simply change one’s position. General. Prisoner. Honor. Evidence. Sword tip. First line of the ledger.
"Treat her wounds," I commanded. Kardia glared at me.
"Is this mercy?"
"No," I answered instantly. "It is the prisoner management regulation."
Her eyebrows twitched. "It is inconvenient if you die." I looked at the scribe. "Treat the shoulder wound. Provide water. Standard prisoner rations."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"However," I looked at Kardia, "solitary confinement."
The pen stopped.
"Do not use a room with sunlight."
Kardia’s eyes narrowed. "No outside contact until interrogation."
"Yes."
"Store the sword separately."
"Yes."
"Kardia Noxbell herself is to remain on the first line of the Black King Castle prisoner registry."
Clink. Kardia’s chains rattled again. She seemed to understand only then. She wouldn't die. But she wouldn't be freed, either. Death is a one-time event. The prisoner registry, however, is opened every single day. Every day, her name is checked. Every day, her status is verified. Every day, it is written down again that yesterday’s general is today’s prisoner. This was slower than execution. And for Kardia, it was likely far more degrading.
"Do you intend to let me rot like this?"
"Rot?" I said quietly. "It is storage."
Kardia’s lips parted. I closed the prisoner registry.
"The blade of Noxvine." Thud. The sound of the registry closing echoed through the room. "A rebel prisoner."
"And evidence that Black King Castle has triumphed."
This time, even Kardia couldn't answer immediately. I liked that silence. No, I shouldn't like it. Throwing an ex-girlfriend into a dungeon and treating her like evidence? My inner self seemed to be localizing to the Demon King’s realm. Someone, please return me to my original world. Though, the reason for the return wouldn't be 'customer dissatisfaction.' It would be 'misdelivery.'
"Did the Roadmia family open the path?" Kardia asked quietly. I did not evade the question.
"They did."
Her eyes turned cold. "You even used the family of your former fiancée."
"A vow of loyalty is not a decoration."
"Did Ivelin Roadmia know as well?"
I paused for a moment. Ivelin. The woman who took off her black gemstone necklace. The woman who said I wouldn't survive. And the woman who, somewhere in Black King Castle, was waiting for the price her family would pay for opening the eastern supply route. I said, "She remains in Black King Castle."
Kardia’s mouth twisted. "So, she is a hostage."
"A place to return to."
"It is the same thing."
"In politics, yes." I disliked that answer, too. But what could I do? It was the truth. Damn it. I had used one ex-girlfriend’s family to capture another ex-girlfriend. At this point, it wasn't a harem; it was supply chain management. It wasn't a love triangle; it was a logistics line. The reality was insane.
Kardia looked down at her bound hands.
"Your Majesty Lucion." This time, it wasn't 'Prince.' It was 'Your Majesty.' It was a title she had forced herself to say, which made it all the more vivid. "If I take up the sword again..."
"You cannot," I said. "Not for the time being."
Fire ignited in Kardia’s eyes. "Are you afraid?"
"Yes," I answered immediately.
The room fell silent. Even Kardia paused. I looked at her. "Your sword is terrifying." This was the truth. There was no reason to deny it. "That is why I took it."
Kardia’s face stiffened. I continued, "Pretending that something terrifying is not terrifying is not courage." Slowly. Precisely. "That is stupidity."
Kardia couldn't say a word. I nodded to Barkan. "Take her away."
Barkan moved. Seradin stepped forward as well. Kardia didn't walk as if she were being dragged. She walked on her own two feet until the end. I had to acknowledge that much. Even with her hands bound, no sword, and her name on the first line of the prisoner registry, Kardia Noxbell did not crumble. Not yet. That was what made her even more dangerous. A broken sword can be discarded, but a bent sword might snap back at any moment.
The prison corridor was long. I didn't go myself, but I knew through Seradin’s report. The door to the solitary cell opened. Kardia entered. A piece of cloth for treatment and a bowl of water were placed inside. The door closed. Seradin said she left one final remark through the small window on the iron door.
"It is the prisoner management regulation."
Kardia did not answer. That night, one light went out in the deepest room of the Black King Castle prison block.
*
At the same time, three reports arrived at the eastern military camp. The destruction of the outer supply depot. The loss of the auxiliary supply route. The capture of Kardia Noxbell. Belion Vergrad stared at the report for a long time. An officer gritted his teeth.
"We must rescue General Kardia."
Belion did not answer. His eyes were fixed on the final sentence.
The silence stretched out. The man who was called the Shield of Noxvine finally understood. Lucion did not cut down his army with a sword. He showed them a path to survive and isolated those who stood outside that path.
Belion’s hand froze over the report. And finally, he spoke in a low voice.
"Abandon the outskirts."
The moment those words fell, the Shield of Noxvine took his first step backward.