Not the Black Ceiling of the Underground Dungeon
It didn't feel like the black ceiling of the Underground Dungeon. Looking around, I realized it was the same room where I'd first opened my eyes in the Imperial Palace. As I shifted, a glimpse of black hair swaying in my peripheral vision caught my eye. Ariel was sitting right beside me. She was leaning slightly toward the bed from her chair, her face etched with deep worry. It was the expression of someone who'd been waiting for a long time. Dark shadows under her eyes, lips cracked and dry. It was kinda funny that she looked worse off than me. At least she'd had food, and sunlight—yet here she was, wearing the face of someone who'd been locked in the Underground Dungeon for over a month.
For some reason, I wasn't hungry at all. Maybe they'd fed me while I was out, or something. My body felt clean, too, like someone had washed me. As soon as I sat up, my hand went to my face. I fingered the spot where the candle flame had touched. No pain. No roughness, so they'd treated it. Tracing under my jawline, no burn scars. Same with below my collarbone. Ariel must've noticed me stirring. Her blue eyes met mine. In the sunlight, I could see the dried, twisted tear tracks under them.
"Tear stains. You cried for me?"
There were dry marks around her eyes. Like she'd wiped them but missed spots, a faint shimmer at the tips of her lashes.
"......It's not because of you."
"Yeah, we're not that close. Just your lifesaver, at best."
Ariel clamped her mouth shut at my words. Then, without a reply, she reached for the bracelet on my wrist—the one with the cross she'd used to heal my wound before. Watching her slip it back onto her own wrist, I thought: It must be pretty precious to her. Did wearing it keep your body from burning or getting stabbed fatally? If she didn't fear fire and never turned her back on an assassin's blade, I might actually call her a proper knight.
It started as just some offhand remark, but being around this black-haired girl... somehow, I found myself wanting to become that kind of knight for real. Especially seeing those eyes of hers, like she could vanish from this world she didn't want to live in at any moment. Me? I was just the guy who'd crawled out of that shitty Underground Dungeon and was thrilled with plain sunlight. If I stuck by this girl who felt unhappy despite having everything, maybe we'd split the misery fifty-fifty. She seemed like no matter what she had, she possessed nothing—stirring pity, but more like regret. If a kid like that disappeared, it'd be pretty damn sad. Like the loss of all humanity if I kicked the bucket.
"Hey, do you still hate me?"
"......I don't know. You, my brother, my uncle—everyone around me. I just don't know."
Maybe from tumbling around in that carriage, but she no longer forced that hateful face in front of me. What remained was just exhaustion.
"Last time, you called my name. But... I'm still gonna call you Vintervalt for now."
"Do what you want."
"You said you were my knight. Forgot how to show respect?"
"......Do as you please, Your Highness."
Ariel started to say more but changed the subject.
"Anyway, what happened with my brother...? He didn't try to......kill you, did he?"
"Just talked, that's all."
I hesitated a bit, and she didn't seem to buy it. Her blue eyes scanned my face—where the burns had been, where I'd been slapped. Who'd treated me? Had they cleaned me up spotless before sending me back, or had Ariel done it herself, bracelet and all? We let the topic slide, neither of us wanting to bring it up first.
The day passed like that, as if nothing had happened.
So, what were we, exactly? I'd thrown out the "knight" line, but the knight I imagined wasn't the kind they pictured in this palace or empire. Not some northern knight charging into flames at their lord's command, nor those guard knights who backed off when their charge was in mortal danger. The knight in my mind was the honorable, glory-bound type I'd always read about in stories from my past life—
"Vintervalt, are you listening?"
"......Yes."
"That's the third time. You've got that spaced-out look."
Ariel set her teacup down on its saucer and eyed me. We were in the Greenhouse. The same table where we'd first had tea here. Steam rose from my cup, sliced fruits arranged on the snack plate. Afterward, as always, I trailed after the girl. Elana occasionally stepped away, and I'd worry about ambushes or assassinations, but nothing happened. The girl never left the palace—her own building, even. Guess stuff like that didn't go down inside the Imperial Palace. Not in a place this vast, no matter how tight the security.
She'd gaze out the highest windows with eyes aching to escape, yet never step outside. Like a bird with clipped wings, barely holding on in its cage. The girl was withering away. In the Greenhouse garden over tea and treats, on the terrace blankly reading, at lavish meals—her portions dwindled. She hadn't eaten much to begin with, but now she barely touched her lips to the teacup before setting it down, and snack plates went untouched more often. Compared to when we met.
I casually ate the fruit she left behind. After starving in the Underground Dungeon, wasting food bugged me. She'd stare like I was some weirdo, then look away. Today, too, wandering aimlessly inside the palace, Ariel paused by a corridor window and tossed a light question my way.
"What was it like... in the Underground Dungeon?"
"Less a feeling, more like no feelings at all."
Her eyes darkened as she looked at me.
"No light, nothing to see—makes you feel not alive. Joy, pain, nothing comes to mind."
"So, would you want your brother freed?"
Hmm, maybe he should rot a bit longer. He'd wrecked the house and killed a ton of people—half a year oughta do it. That might reconcile Vintervalt standards with my past life's ethics. Back home, even killers got out in three years. Nobles like us? Half that.
"What do you want to do, Your Highness?"
"......I don't know."
"Do as you wish. You can manage that much without leaving."
Ariel stopped walking.
"......Did he tell you something?"
"If it were me, I wouldn't just stare out with those 'I wanna go' eyes. Nah, I wouldn't."
She was looking out the window. Beyond the glass: palace gardens, spires farther out. The church steeple faintly visible in the distance.
"Even if going out might get you killed?"
I didn't answer. No need. Ariel read my silence and gave a slight smile.
"Right, my mistake asking you. You'd go. Without a care."
Her face reflected in the glass. Those blue eyes never fixed on one spot, always wavering. Both blurred on the pane, blending with the outer scenery, boundaries hazy.
"If you wanna go out, go. I'll protect you."
Ariel turned from the window to face me.
"......You're joking?"
"Would a knight joke with their lord?"
"You always spout nonsense, crack jokes. And you were bedridden just days ago—who's protecting who?"
I only think if it'll work, possible or not, can or can't—that's why. Worst case, fail and die. Simple.
I grabbed Ariel's wrist. So thin. Thinner than mine, yeah—pitiful girl who couldn't even wield a sword properly.
"Wh-what, suddenly—"
Anyway, I dragged her along. Past the Greenhouse. Green flashed by beyond the glass. The door to her terrace reading room flickered into view across the hall, then gone. Clack, clack, clack. Her heels and mine clattered out of sync on the marble. Down the stairs. One flight, two. I felt her pulse in her wrist. Quickening. A servant stood by the grand door. Shoved him aside with my shoulder, hand to the door, pushed. Heavy. One hand? No chance. But I wasn't letting go of her wrist, so I slammed my shoulder into it, full weight.
Creeeeak—
Light poured in. Sunrays sliced the corridor's gloom through the gap. Dragged along, Ariel stared at me blankly. Still holding her wrist, I stepped outside. Warm sunlight bathed my body. Even after leaving the Underground Dungeon, I'd stayed indoors—so breathing real outdoor air, not through a window, felt like ages. Wind blew. My silver hair fluttered lightly; her black hair swayed with it.
Just the garden. Sunlight, breeze, flowers—the outside garden.
"See? No problem."
"......Yeah."
Ariel's voice was small. I loosened my grip, but she didn't head back inside—just stood there. Wind blew again. Black hair fell over her face; with her free hand, she tucked it behind her ear, gazing at the garden. For a long, long time. Just standing there by the door.