Lifeline
"When the only hand left to grasp is holding the knife."
"Security breach!"
The shout echoed from somewhere beyond the stone walls. Heavy footsteps pounded closer through the corridor.
The masked man clicked his tongue softly.
The rope constricting Etienne’s neck loosened in an instant. In a single fluid motion, the assailant vaulted up the damp wall and melted into the darkness above.
"Keo—o—o—!"
The Minister, barely released, dragged in air as though surfacing from a black sea.
Returning from halfway across the threshold of the underworld, his vision swam red. For a fleeting moment, he felt relief. Then rage swallowed it whole.
He slammed both fists against the floor again and again, knuckles splitting, veins bulging in his temples.
His eyes, bloodshot and wild, looked as if they might weep scarlet.
"Claudiooooo!"
In the lightless cell, his curse ricocheted off stone, echoing back at him like laughter.
The Following Day
By midday, rough, dusty bread sat untouched in the corner of Etienne’s cell. He ground his teeth, ignoring it.
When the guards came to deliver his lunch, they also brought a scrap of hope—and then crushed it.
"Her Highness will not see you," the maid reported."She asked me to tell you that being deceived once was enough."
"Ask her—just once. Tell her I know a very dirty secret of Claudio’s, and that I will never betray her again. Please! Only once! Hurry!"
By evening, his prayers were answered.
The Visit
When Medea stepped into the cell, Etienne nearly lost what remained of his composure.
Thinner than he'd ever been in his life, he lurched forward, greeting her with the desperation of a drowning man who had finally spotted a rope.
His bloodshot eyes, ringed in bruised shadows, made it clear he hadn’t slept at all.
"Minister, this is appalling."
Medea’s gaze swept the cramped, filthy cell. No warmth. No extra blankets. No decent food.
It was hell. There wasn't a single comfort granted to him.
For an exhausted old man, it was beyond harsh.
Savages who don’t even know the meaning of ‘father’...
Etienne cursed silently, then nodded eagerly, as if her words were the most reasonable thing he'd ever heard.
"You said something strange about my uncle."
Medea moved directly to the point, making it clear she had no intention of lingering.
"Yes, Your Highness. You must know the ugly truth Duke Claudio has been hiding. That is why I, Etienne, wanted to see you again—despite the, ah, difficulties."
"The ugly truth? About my uncle?"
Her voice was flat, unreadable.
"Yes, Your Highness. Until now, the Duke's influence was so overwhelming that no one dared to speak.
"But I am a loyal subject who has eaten Valdina’s salt and rust—only for Valdina!"
He pressed his forehead to the floor, voice ragged, as if coughing up blood with every word.
"I am resolved to tell the truth!"
Slowly, he raised his head to study her face, searching for even the smallest reaction.
"Your Highness, I beg you—protect me. If you safeguard my life and keep the Duke from killing me, I will reveal the truth about Claudio, whom you trust so much."
Medea’s expression did not change at all.
Etienne’s heart lurched.
"If more time passes, it may become useless."
The Princess regarded him in silence for a long heartbeat.
"...Very well. I accept."
Relief flooded his features.
"Then, if you would first provide an escort—"
Medea turned as if to leave.
"You are the one who squandered trust, Minister. If you cannot believe me, I will simply go."
Coldly, she took a step toward the door.
Etienne jolted as though waking from a nightmare.
"No! Of course you wouldn't believe me easily after what I've done. Y-Yes, it's only natural!"
He nodded repeatedly, as though trying to convince himself as much as her.
"I'll... lay my cards on the table first."
He faltered, shrinking back from the cliff he'd just stepped over.
"You seem to be mistaken about something, Etienne."
"I make the decisions here. Not you."
He swallowed hard.
There was nowhere left to run. The Princess was the last hand stretched toward him.
After last night's attempt on his life, he no longer had the luxury of hesitation.
"Since I took charge of the Palace Affairs Ministry," Etienne began slowly,"many people have visited me."
"Some sought office. Some sought wealth. And I..."
He let his head droop.
"I confess. I forgot the gravity of my position and looked only to my own gain."
"They were all the Duke's people," he continued hoarsely."They funneled the palace's interests straight into the Duchy's pockets. It wasn't just one or two. Duke Claudio’s influence reaches every corner of the royal palace."
Medea actually snorted.
"Is that all? Hardly shocking. I've been surrounded by my uncle's people for as long as I can remember."
Etienne panicked as she seemed ready to cut him off and leave.
"No! Please, listen a little more. What I’m about to say now is the truly important part."
In his haste, he forgot the caution he'd intended to keep.
"The Duke and his followers—their greed did not stop at accumulating power and wealth through Your Highness."
His voice dropped, forcing the words out one by one.
"Those ruthless men dismissed His Majesty the Young King's valor as insolence, and in the end... they began to entertain thoughts they never should have allowed."
"What thoughts?"
"Be precise, Minister."
The Princess did not permit him even a syllable of embellishment.
Etienne glanced around the small cell, as though expecting Claudio's shadow to emerge from the darkness and strangle him again at any moment.
If he knew I spoke these words, he'd finish the job himself.
"That is... they conceived a dangerous ambition."
The air in the prison seemed to drop several degrees.
"They resolved to overthrow Valdina—to raise rebellion and depose His Majesty the King."
"And... I possess the written report that details this plot."
Silence suffocated the room.
Medea said nothing.
Because her expression did not change, Etienne bit his lip and endured the heavy quiet.
"How am I meant to believe you, Etienne?"
"You and my uncle could just as easily be working together now to lure me into a trap. Even the rats in these walls know you've served as the Regent’s closest ally."
"You are almost certainly named in that report yourself. And now, when it suits you, you expect me to trust a self-incriminating confession?"
"No! You’re wrong!"
Etienne forgot his dignity entirely and dropped to his knees, nearly clutching at the skirts of the young Princess he had once dismissed with contempt at formal banquets.
The contrast was grotesque.
"He is not my friend! The Duke wants to erase me!"
"I'm to be disposed of before the truth about them is exposed!"
His words tumbled over one another, frenzied.
"How can I call someone a comrade who abandons me the moment I'm in danger?"
"I realized it here, too late. We must never leave Claudio—a man who entertains such ungrateful, treasonous thoughts—unchecked."
Even now, Etienne couldn’t stop justifying himself between accusations.
He had no idea, of course.
That the Duke had never intended to kill him—and was, in fact, desperately struggling to free him from outside the walls.
Medea’s lips curled upward slightly.
"I can't take you at your word alone."
"I’ll need to verify it myself. That will take time."
Etienne’s face crumpled.
"Then what am I supposed to do until then...?"
"Please, Your Highness. Save me. Next time you come, you may find a corpse instead."
"Don’t worry."
"I’ll replace all the guards. If the prison is protected by people who can actually wield a sword, no assassin will slip in so easily."
She spoke as though arranging something as trivial as a change of linens.
Then, in a tone a shade warmer, she added:
"You look dreadful, Minister. I can hardly recognize you."
"I asked Saya to look after you so you wouldn’t be too inconvenienced, but it seems that wasn’t enough."
His chin, which had somehow remained defiantly high even as his body wasted away, now trembled.
Her words were so gentle that he almost reached out to cling to the Princess—young enough to be his granddaughter—and sob into her skirts.
"My life hangs on you, Your Highness. Please, save this wretched body."
"Then we must verify your claim quickly."
"Tell me, Minister—"
"Where exactly is that report?"
The Last Lifeline Tightens ## The Betrayal Deepens
The Minister's final gambit. The Princess's calculated mercy. And the noose—tightens.
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