The Princess Permits No Wounds

Click. The silver Imperial Restraints clamped around my right wrist. It was cold. Not just the chill of plain metal. The moment it touched my skin, thin needle-like strands of mana burrowed into my wrist. They didn't tear muscle or draw blood. Instead, they quietly, meticulously sealed off the flow of mana through my body.

The Imperial Restraints. I'd seen it in the game before. An event item that appeared only once, in the late stages of Arielra's route, during the interrogation of a traitorous noble. It suppressed the target's mana and paralyzed their nerves if they tried to move beyond a certain distance. It wasn't something you put on a playable character.

But now it was on my wrist.

Wow.

I stared blankly down at the restraints.

I'm really screwed now.

The long silver chain extending from my right wrist was connected to the bedpost. It wasn't too short. Long enough to walk around the room a bit. But it didn't reach the door. It ended exactly two steps before the threshold. A ruthlessly calculated length.

"I put it on the uninjured side," Arielra said softly. "I didn't want to touch your hurt shoulder."

I couldn't say anything for a moment. Consideration? No. It was imprisonment disguised as care.

I lifted my right wrist. The surface of the silver restraints bore the imperial sun emblem. Every time it faintly glowed, my pulse seemed to be forcibly silenced.

"Quite merciful," my lips moved on their own.

"To bind a prisoner while avoiding their wounds. The empire's humanitarianism is truly touching."

That wasn't what I wanted to say. My real thoughts were this:

Please let me go. This is too much. I swear I won't run. Okay, I will run, but still, this is scary.

But what came out was, as always, spiteful.

Arielra didn't get angry. She no longer believed my words. That was the real problem.

"Such words are useless now," she replied quietly. She gestured to the maids. The two bowed their heads and withdrew. Only Arielra and I remained in the room.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Red velvet walls. Sealed iron door. Silver chain bound to the bedpost. And on the table, potion vials and bandages.

The setup was perfect. Not patient and caregiver, but prisoner and captor.

Arielra picked up a potion vial. "Take off your clothes."

I looked at her. "Pardon?"

This time, even the system correction faltered; my response was perfectly normal.

Arielra didn't blink. "So I can treat you."

"Call a healer."

"No."

Instant refusal.

"Why?"

"I can't let anyone else see your condition."

"That doesn't mean the princess has to treat a prisoner herself."

"Leon." She said my name. Her voice was so low I instinctively shut my mouth. Her blue eyes turned to my left shoulder—the spot I'd wrecked trying the wall-phasing bug and then touching the record slate.

"You get hurt when I'm not looking."

"......"

"And you say it's nothing."

Her fingertips uncorked the vial. A clear medicinal scent filled the room, bitter and cold herbal notes seeping through her rose perfume.

"So from now on, I'll be watching."

Wrong. She wasn't trying to heal me. She wanted to monitor me. Under the guise of treatment. For the sake of protection. Chained by guilt.

Stay calm. I took a shallow breath.

For now, get the shoulder treated. Bugs aren't working, and if my body breaks down too, I'm done for.

I slowly undid my collar. The fabric brushed my left shoulder, and pain lanced through.

"Ugh."

A small groan escaped. Arielra's hand froze. Her eyes wavered.

"Does it hurt?"

I started to answer. A little. But I can bear it.

"I'm just displeased because Your Highness's hand is trembling."

My gut chilled the moment the words left my mouth.

No, why did that come out like that?

Arielra's hand was indeed shaking. But she didn't look hurt. Instead, she crumbled deeper, damper.

"I see."

She murmured softly. "It must be unpleasant."

No. That's not—

"You smiled in front of me even as you were dying."

She set down the bandage. "It must have hurt then too."

Her voice cracked. "You must have been scared then too."

I held my breath. I didn't want to hear those words. Scared. Yes, I was scared. During those 11 seconds as the poison spread, I wasn't holding out like a hero. I wasn't sacrificing like a saint. I just clenched my teeth because I didn't want to die, praying the bug would work.

That was the truth Arielra must never know. I saved her that day. But not because I was strong. Because watching her die scared me more.

Arielra carefully peeled back the fabric over my shoulder. Swollen skin ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠emerged, already bruising purple. The muscles inside had been badly shocked.

She stared at the wound for a long time. Without blinking. Like someone beholding their sin.

"Did you hit the wall?"

"I fell."

"Liar."

Instant.

"......"

"You don't avert your eyes when you lie."

I looked at her. She smiled wetly.

"You stare too directly instead. So the other person has no choice but to believe."

"You know a lot."

"The record slate told me."

My throat dried. Arielra dipped her fingers in the potion and gently applied it to my shoulder. Cold at first. Then hot. The medicine seeped under my skin, loosening the knotted muscles. The pain sharpened vividly before slowly ebbing.

I gritted my teeth, trying not to say it hurt. But my body was more honest. My fingers trembled. The chain rattled faintly.

Clink.

At the sound, Arielra's gaze dropped to my wrist. She'd caught me shaking.

Her face paled further.

"Leon."

"Don't call me."

"Are you scared?"

I didn't answer. Couldn't.

Inside, I answered instantly. Yes, I'm scared. You're scary. This room is scary. The closed door is scary. The fact that I can't escape with game bugs anymore is scary. And above all—

The fact that you no longer hate me is scary.

But what came out was different, as always.

"If Your Highness expects fear from me, you're still dreaming."

Arielra lowered her eyes. "As expected." She whispered. "You never tell me with words."

I felt a chill. She bandaged my shoulder. Her movements were careful. Excessively so. Every time her fingers brushed my skin, I felt her breath catch. As if I were a shard of glass.

No. Maybe to her, I already was. Cracked glass. One slip and I'd shatter. So she had to put me in a sturdier box.

This is horrifying.

When the treatment ended, Arielra straightened my collar. Her touch was so gentle it made me more uncomfortable. Roughness would have been better. Rage, blame, grabbing my collar—that I could handle. But she was careful. Handling something broken.

"From today, we'll set some rules," Arielra said.

"Rules?"

"First." She didn't wait for my reaction. "You can't leave this room."

"I'm already not."

"Second. Don't touch the record slate without my permission."

I shut my mouth. How did she know?

Arielra read my face and said quietly, "The record slate shook."

"......"

"It means you were trying to hide something again."

She looked at the restraints on my wrist. "Third. No escape attempts that border on self-harm."

"Self-harm? Calling escape self-harm after locking someone up is a fresh idea."

"Hitting your shoulder on the wall isn't escape—it's self-harm."

"If I'd passed through, it would have been escape."

"You didn't."

True. Infuriating.

Arielra stepped closer. "Fourth." Her fingertips brushed over the restraints. The silver metal hummed lowly. "If you try to go beyond the chain's limit when I'm gone, the restraints will automatically stop you."

"Paralysis?"

"Protection."

"Convenient word choice."

"You did the same."

She looked at me. "You called saving me an insult."

I lost my words. Cowardly. Hard to argue against that.

Arielra smiled softly. "So I learned from you."

Her smile was beautiful. Beautiful enough to be terrifying. "How to call restraint protection."

"......"

I stared blankly at the window. Effect 3 was the worst. Obsession rises on injury. The system was telling me not to get hurt.

Of course I didn't want to. But this world hurt me even if I stayed still.

This difficulty is insane.

I wanted to rub my forehead. As I lifted my right hand, the chain clinked. The sound reminded me of reality. I lowered it.

Arielra watched even that tiny movement.

"Uncomfortable?"

"Very pleasant."

"Good."

"Sarcasm."

"I know."

She smiled. "But answer like that anyway."

She picked up the water glass from the table. "Drink."

"I can manage."

I reached out. The chain pulled taut. Clink. My hand stopped just short of the glass.

"......"

Arielra watched quietly. I quietly withdrew my hand.

"Not thirsty."

Of course I was. Died and revived, tried to escape and got hurt, wrestled the record slate. My throat was parched. But her approaching with the cup wasn't good for my mental health.

Arielra ignored my lie. She sat beside me. The bed dipped slightly. I instinctively pulled back. The chain rang short.

Her eyes wavered again. She seemed hurt by my reaction. But she didn't retreat.

"Drink even if scared. Or you'll collapse from dehydration."

"Not that weak."

"The record slate said otherwise."

"That slate spreads falsehoods."

"It said cardiac arrest was 11 seconds away during the poisoning."

"Exaggeration."

"Leon."

Her voice lowered. I shut my mouth. She brought the cup to my lips. I resisted. Briefly. Then thought realistically.

What if I refuse? She gets more anxious. Sees my state as worse. Forces it. Restraints tighten. Conclusion: Drink.

I drank slowly. Cool water slid down my throat. Only then did I realize how thirsty I was. My body relaxed first. I hated that. Confirming my helplessness.

Arielra set down the cup. "Good boy."

I glared. "Training a dog?"

"No." She replied. "Taking care of a living person."

That hurt more. Strange. I could take insults. Hatred was familiar. Curses fine. But "taking care" felt wrong.

I didn't know how to be loved. No. In this world, I shouldn't be.

I needed hate. To meet return conditions. So they wouldn't hold me. So everyone returned to their places.

But Arielra said she'd care for me. Proof of total failure.

"Stop."

My voice was low. No distortion this time.

She looked at me. "What?"

"All this."

"Protection?"

"Imprisonment."

"Protection."

"You put restraints on me."

"Because you got hurt."

"Trying to escape."

"So even more reason to protect you."

Dialogue impossible. I inhaled. Needed harsher words. Ones to hurt her. Make her hate me again. Cruel enough to shake even after the slate.

The system would say them if I couldn't. It always did.

I looked straight at her. Sorry. I thought. But hate me.

"Amusing, Arielra."

My lips moved coldly. "You're mistaking yourself for a tragic victim."

Her hand stopped. Good. I continued.

"But don't delude yourself. I saved you not because you're special. It was just the option with least loss."

Words flowed like blades. Far more precise, crueler than my will.

"If you died, the palace route glitches. So I saved you. Nothing more, nothing less."

Her face hardened bit by bit.

Yes. I gritted inwardly. Get angry. Please.

"So don't dirty me with cheap guilt."

Words ended. Silence fell. I held my breath. This should do. Even with the slate, it'd hurt. Her pride was high. She's a princess. Weak to being used.

Get angry. Rage. Hate me again.

But Arielra didn't move. She just looked. Then slowly, so slowly, tears fell.

"As expected." She whispered. "You know exactly what hurts me most."

I froze.

"......"

"So it's not sincere."

She laughed through tears. "If it were, it wouldn't be so precise."

Insane. Even venom backfires now. The slate told her too much. The moment she realized I was trying to make her hate me, every cruel word twisted into something else.

I'm pushing her away. Freeing her from guilt. Making her let go.

She believed that. And she wasn't wrong. More horrifying.

Then, black light flashed in the room's center. I turned. The Black Record Slate. Not fully formed. Blurry like residual data. But clearer than before.

Arielra saw it too. Her eyes shook.

"Again......"

"Don't look."

The words burst out. Pure truth this time.

She looked at me. "Why?"

"I said don't."

"When you say that."

She stood slowly. "I feel I must."

"Arielra."

Urgency mixed in my voice for the first time. She heard it. Clearly. Her face shifted faintly. The woman unmoved by my coldness reacted to my anxiety.

"Leon."

She stood before the slate. "What you're really hiding is in here."

"Stop."

I tried to rise. Chain pulled. Clink. Wrist halted. Not even the threshold. Just bed to slate distance. But restraints blocked precisely.

"Arielra, stop."

My name came out. No correction. No distortion.

She paused briefly. That one word held her. But not long.

"Sorry."

She said. "But I decided not to believe you anymore."

Her hand touched the slate. Black light erupted.

I stopped breathing. The banquet hall reflected on the slate. Golden chandelier. Nobles' laughter. Poisoned cup. And me snatching and drinking it.

Arielra had seen this. But now, new text appeared below.

Arielra's fingertips stiffened. I gritted my teeth. Stop.

The slate didn't.

Arielra's breath caught.

"Stop......" My voice leaked small.

Arielra turned slowly to me. Seeing her face, I knew. It was over.

She now knew I wasn't strong. Not a death-transcending savior, not a cold calculator. Just a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠coward who trembled but drank the poison because he didn't want to die.

She knew.

Her tears flowed quietly now. No scream. No sobs. Just the face of someone broken, unaware they'd shattered, still standing.

"You."

She said. Voice barely audible. "Were scared."

I didn't answer. Couldn't.

"Yet."

She walked to me. One step. Another. I tried to retreat. But the chain. She stopped before me. Then very carefully placed her hand over the restraints on my right.

"Yet you saved me."

Her hand trembled. I wanted to close my eyes. Couldn't. Her blue eyes held me.

"Leon."

She whispered. "Now I understand."

I wish you didn't. Please don't.

"You're not someone to leave alone."

Her fingertips trailed down the restraints. "Using yourself like a tool."

Chain clinked.

"Can't even flee from death."

Her voice softened endlessly. "Lying that it's okay even while scared."

I cursed inwardly. Don't sum it up like that.

I just wanted to live. Return to reality. Wished them happy. Not because I'm great. Or good. Just... I'd grown attached. That's all.

But Arielra took even that deeper.

"So."

She said. "I'll protect you."

The words I least wanted to hear.

"No."

No distortion. Short, clear refusal.

She smiled faintly. "I know."

"Then release me."

"Can't."

"Why."

"When you say you hate it."

Her fingertips stroked the restraints. "It's always what you need."

Chills.

She no longer believed my refusals. No. Beyond that. My "no" made her think I needed it more.

Click. A small sound from the restraints. The silver chain shortened. Just a bit. But I felt it. Arielra knew too. She smiled sadly.

"Not to hurt you."

"Already enough."

"Then sorry."

Words only. She didn't release.

"But I won't let you go."

Arielra knelt before me. The princess knelt again. She avoided my injured left shoulder. Instead, she clasped my uninjured right hand—restrained—with both of hers.

It looked like prayer. Princess praying to prisoner. Beautiful, twisted, poisonously ominous.

"Everything that hurts you."

She whispered softly. "Won't cross this threshold anymore."

I looked at the door. Sealed iron. Beyond: corridor. Palace. World. The reality I must return to someday, connected somewhere outside.

But now, it wasn't a door. A boundary. End of Arielra's world. And I was inside.

"Rest a bit."

She said. "I'll stay today."

I looked at her. "What?"

"Until you sleep."

So matter-of-factly. "Or you might hurt yourself again."

"That's surveillance."

"Protection."

"Wordplay."

"Learned from you."

I shut my mouth. Arielra pulled a chair beside the bed. Naturally. As if it had always been her seat. Her hand still rested on my restraints.

I stared at the ceiling. No way I'd sleep. But my body was exhausted. Pain, tension, fear mixed; eyelids grew heavy.

Then the Black Record Slate glowed faintly again. Arielra saw. I did too.

I stopped breathing. Actual voice log. Didn't take long to grasp.

Before system distortion. My inner words. What I swallowed dying.

That would restore.

Arielra's eyes turned slowly to me. Tears and madness pooled in the blue.

"Tomorrow." She whispered. "We'll listen together."

I didn't answer. Couldn't.

Last line on the slate glowed clear in the dark.

That instant, Arielra's hand gripped my restraints tighter. For the first time, I realized.

My hidden truth was far more dangerous than any venom.