My Prison Chronicles - 3
The Demon Duke, who had been gripping my hand as if she meant to sever it entirely, only released it after what felt like an age. In truth no more than a few minutes had passed, yet it had felt like nearly a full hour.
"Just wait here a moment, dear."
With those words the Demon Duke hesitated briefly, then turned her back. Even as she walked away she glanced over her shoulder again and again, looking for all the world as if she feared the child might vanish the instant she looked away. The fact that she had told me to wait only made the impression stronger.
I could do nothing but stare blankly after her retreating, worry-laden figure.
It's not like I have anywhere to go.
What was there to wait for? Where exactly was a man locked in a cell supposed to disappear to? The greatest relocation I could manage was from standing at the bars to lying on the bed—still inside the prison either way.
It hurt. This was the same Demon Duke who had been so shocked at the sight of me behind bars, and now she was fretting that the prisoner himself might somehow slip away.
The shock must have been enormous.
How severe must the blow have been for the Demon Duke—symbol of wisdom itself—to commit such an absurd slip? Even someone whose emotions had long since died would feel the triangle of their heart shift in a situation like this.
Ungrateful bastard.
She was the one who had supplied me with the most unique health tonic in the world. She might occasionally toss out jokes that were hard to answer, but in truth her consideration rivaled that of the Duke of Victory and the Wise Duke. Those two dukes at least had tangled threads of obligation that made their kindness understandable. The Demon Duke had none. Yet she had always been warm.
Truly a benevolence that fully justified calling her Mother Demon Duke. And I had shown her this wretched sight.
I'm sorry, Your Grace… I really do deserve five years.
Not long after, the Demon Duke returned.
"Eating in there must be inconvenient. I brought a little something."
"Ah—yes. Thank you."
Her arms were piled high with food. No matter how I looked at it, this was not "a little." Had I been misusing the word my entire life?
I won't finish this before I get out.
There was no way I could eat this much in five days. The portions weren't even small; they would never fit through the gaps—
"Here. Take them."
They fit?
The Demon Duke flicked a finger and every item in her arms shrank at once. When she pushed them through the bars they swelled back to full size as if the shrinking had been a lie.
Whoa.
Unless my eyes had deceived me, magic had been worked without staff or chant.
"The paths mages pursue differ, but what lies at the end is the same. Magic accomplished without medium or incantation. That is the culmination of magic."
Later's words from the club room suddenly rose in my mind—the dream he had spoken of to the members with such burning passion.
Are you watching, Later? Your dream just unfolded in an underground prison cell.
It wasn't really my fault, yet I felt sorry all the same.
What a waste of power…
I was still staring blankly at the food now stacked inside the cell when the Demon Duke's voice pulled me back.
"It still looks insufficient. I should bring more."
"It's fine. This is more than enough."
Any more and even if I shared with the jailer there would be leftovers. Definitely leftovers.
Despite the desperation I poured into stopping her, the Demon Duke only furrowed her brow slightly and shook her head. Her resolve to fetch still more was absolute.
"Um… Your Grace. Forgive me, but I'm only locked up for five days."
In the end I swallowed my pride and confessed the legendary five-day sentence. She had clearly been imagining my confinement in units of months at the very least. Nothing else could explain this quantity. Thinking of it as two weeks' worth of food delivered in one go finally made sense.
"I know."
The Demon Duke answered with perfect calm. Far from looking startled or incredulous at the mention of five days, she gazed at me with pitying eyes for having announced my own sentence aloud.
"Does five days matter? What matters is that my baby is inside there."
She reached toward the bars again. This time I reached out without thinking. The warm sensation of her hands enveloping mine made me weep inwardly.
"No—it's only five days!"
"Not 'only.' Fully five days."
The conversation with the Minister of Finance rose unbidden in my mind. Same topic, same attempt to emphasize that I was locked up for a mere five days—yet the replies could not have been more different. Or perhaps they were similar after all: neither of them cared in the slightest about the length of the sentence. The problem was the direction of that indifference.
This is what a real adult looks like.
A true adult who never forgets a young subordinate's little tease and takes revenge for it. It hadn't exactly been a little tease, but still. From this day forward the Minister of Finance living in my heart would be the Demon Duke.
"If anything is inconvenient, call for me whenever you like. I'll instruct the jailer, so don't feel burdened."
Warm words promising she would come in person if needed. Had no one been watching I truly would have cried. Nearly filmed a full prison-crying scene right there.
My heart had been pounding since yesterday; I had not slept properly at all. Even when drowsiness came I could not bring myself to close my eyes.
Karl would be in that cold prison, lying on a hard and uncomfortable bed. The thought alone made sleep impossible. Body wanted rest; mind refused. That was the night I spent.
"Senior, are you all right?"
"I'm fine. Don't worry."
I forced a smile at Young Lady Luise's words. Simply staying awake all night was familiar enough—when student-council work piled up I had gone without sleep before. But worry for Karl made my heart ache more than my body. Even I could see how poor my complexion looked. It was sad to show Karl such a wretched face.
"Even so…"
"I'm truly fine. Just a little tired."
At the firm answer Young Lady Luise finally nodded.
I'm in no position to worry about anyone else.
Young Lady Luise's own color was poor; anyone could tell she had not slept well either, no doubt from the same anxiety over Karl. And yet here she was fretting over me. Her heart was genuinely kind, but she needed to look after herself first. Someday I would have to give her serious advice on that.
"Everyone's here."
While I was still studying Young Lady Luise's face, Young Master Erich's voice reached us.
They've arrived.
I turned toward the direction of his gaze and saw Young Lady Irina racing toward us. She held Karl in her heart as well; of course she had to come with us.
…Truthfully both Luise and I had been so distracted that we only managed to tell her this morning in a rush. If we had gone without a word, how bitterly would she have resented us?
"Oppa… are we going?"
And how must Young Lady Irina have felt, learning of this catastrophe first thing on a weekend morning? I felt so guilty I could not even meet her eyes properly. If I had spoken yesterday she would at least have had time to compose herself.
"I-I'm not late, am I?"
"No. You arrived right on time."
Seeing her gasping as if she had sprinted the entire way only deepened my guilt. I was truly sorry.
"If everyone has gathered, we shall move."
While Young Lady Luise gently patted Irina's back, the teleport mage sent by House Crassius spoke. His tone was stiff, yet his own complexion was none too good. Naturally. What retainer could remain unmoved when the heir of the house he served had been detained? The entire Crassius family must be in an uproar.
…Mother, will she be all right? She always seemed rather soft-hearted. She hasn't collapsed, has she?
We could not teleport directly into the prison. Wasting precious time on a detour grated, but there was no choice. Teleport-disruption magic blanketed the area around the prison to prevent escapes—an entirely understandable precaution. I myself had thought more than once of simply teleporting Karl out.
"Halt. This is a place where sinners who have tarnished the honor of the Empire and the Imperial Family reside. Those without legitimate business are to approach no farther."
As we neared the prison the guard at the main gate blocked our path.
Sinners who tarnished honor.
I bit my lip hard. Calling a man who devoted himself to the Empire more than anyone a sinner—if the Audit Department Chief was a criminal, then who in the world counted as a loyal subject or a proper citizen?
I knew. Of course I knew. The guard was only reciting the manual. He was not speaking of Karl personally. Even so, my chest felt as if it were being torn open. That Karl, who suffered so much, should have to hear himself called a sinner…
"Erich of Count Crassius's house. I request a visit."
Young Master Erich answered the guard as our representative. Among us, only he shared blood with Karl for the time being.
"…Forgive me, but whom have you come to see?"
The name of House Crassius seemed to spark recognition; the guard's tone softened at once. Moments ago it had been "sinners"; now it was "whom." The proper form of address lifted my spirits a little.
"Karl Crassius."
"Confirmed. Those wishing to visit, please write your names on the list."
The guard all but presented the register on the table to Young Master Erich. After reclaiming the list and checking the names, he hurried inside the prison.
Ah, for fuck's sake.
What rotten luck.
The sudden rush of a guard nearly stopped my heart. I thought Her Grace the Demon Duke had come back again. Thankfully it wasn't her—but a new visitor had arrived. Yesterday the Minister of Finance, this morning the Demon Duke, and now the young lady of Duke Varenti's house. I was going to lose my mind.
I had prepared myself. This was the Audit Department Chief, after all, and the detention was pure theater lasting only five days. Real power remained firmly in his hands, so I had expected every visitor to be glamorous. Even so… even so, it was just five days. I had clung to the hope that no one would bother coming to visit for a mere five-day lockup.
Was it five weeks instead of five days?
For a moment I seriously wondered whether my memory had failed me. Ministers and dukes bringing special meals—could this really be five days?
Of course it was. For reasons beyond me, it really was five days.
Has my official fortune completely twisted?
A few years back I had supervised the Minister of Finance's own detention. I thought that had been the absolute peak—and end—of my career as a jailer. Turns out beyond that end lay yet another end.
Should I just retire?
I had accumulated a respectable nest egg. It was a question worth serious consideration.