Next Morning -
Asthia handed Reth a small, cloth-covered tray.
"Take this to her," she said. "Say nothing about me."
Reth looked down at the food. Warm bread. Simple stew. A bit of honeyed root. Nothing extravagant, but far better than prison fare.
"Thought we weren't feeding her."
"We aren't," Asthia said flatly.
Reth blinked. "Then…"
Asthia stepped closer. Her voice dropped to a murmur. "She thinks I've cut her off. Let her think that."
A pause.
"You're doing this on your own. A little mercy. A little rebellion. That's what I want her to see."
Reth frowned. "So I'm the bleeding heart?"
"Yes," she said. "Don't pretend you mind."
She turned and walked away, boots soft on marble.
Reth stood alone in the hall, tray in hand, staring at the door ahead.
The door creaked open. Reth stepped in, holding a tray.
Seris looked up, unimpressed. "I was starting to wonder if starvation was part of your hospitality."
He said nothing. Just set the tray on the table—bread, stew, warm tea.
She glanced at it, then at him. "What is this? A bribe?"
"No," he said. "Breakfast."
She snorted. "How generous. Thought your little princess banned it."
He didn't meet her gaze. "She didn't say anything."
Seris narrowed her eyes. "Didn't have to. You people only move when she twitches a finger."
Reth stayed quiet.
She leaned forward. "So. You brought this on your own?"
A pause. Then: "I did."
"Huh," she said. "Breaking rank for a war criminal. How heroic."
"I didn't do it for you," Reth muttered. "I just didn't like leaving you hungry."
Seris picked up the bread, slow and casual. "Well then. Consider me flattered."
She took a bite. Chewed. Swallowed.
"You'll get in trouble for this," she said.
"Probably."
"Still going to do it again?"
Reth didn't answer.
She smiled faintly. "Good."
An Hour Later
The cell door opened again with a faint creak.
Seris looked up immediately.
But it wasn't Reth.
Asthia stepped inside alone, hands folded.
Seris tilted her head. "Didn't think you'd show your face."
Asthia offered a faint smile. "I had a moment."
Seris's gaze flicked past her shoulder. No one followed.
"Where's the other one?"
Asthia didn't answer right away. She took a few steps forward, glancing at the cleared table where the tray had once been. "Oh, him. Disobeyed a direct order."
Seris narrowed her eyes. "Let me guess. Got in trouble for playing waiter."
"Something like that," Asthia said smoothly. "A short reminder of where his loyalties lie. A little... correction."
Seris leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. "You hurt him?"
"I disciplined him," Asthia replied. "That's not the same."
Seris held her gaze. "If you're trying to guilt me, it won't work."
"Good," Asthia said. "It wasn't about you."
A beat of silence passed.
Then Seris asked, voice too casual, "He alright?"
Asthia's expression didn't change. "He'll manage. Limp a little, maybe. But he'll think twice next time."
Seris snorted. "You people sure love obedience."
"And you love testing limits."
Asthia turned to leave.
Before the door shut, Seris spoke again, quieter this time. "Tell him thanks. If he can still hear it."
Asthia paused. Then: "Tell him yourself. If he shows up tomorrow."
The door closed with a sharp finality, leaving Seris alone in the dim silence.
This time, she didn't smile.
...
Reth sat on the edge of the narrow cot, shirt discarded, candlelight licking at the bruises blooming across his ribs and shoulders.
He touched one near his collarbone, winced slightly, then chuckled under his breath.
"…Didn't think she'd actually go through with it," he muttered.
The room was cold and quiet, a spare military guest quarter with bare stone walls and a warped mirror bolted too high on one side. Reth glanced at it and gave a half-hearted grin.
"Well... my beautiful face's a little bruised now."
He tilted his head, studying the shadow under his left eye like it belonged to someone else. A dark souvenir from one of the guards who hadn't been told to hold back.
"Must be for tomorrow's interrogation," he mused aloud. "Make it look real. Sell the story."
He shifted, laying back slowly, the cot creaking under his weight. Candlelight danced across the ceiling. The pain was still there—but it was distant now. Background noise.
His eyes slipped shut, and for the first time in weeks, he didn't mind the cold.
[DING.]
A chime echoed—soft but distinct, like it came from somewhere inside his skull.
[Side Quest Completed: Survive 7 Days Without Triggering Punishment]→ Reward Granted:
Passive Skill - Disobedience Lv.0.1Effect: You may ignore one (1) minor order from [Princess Asthia] per week without receving punishment or pain.
Use refreshes every 7 days. Use remaining this week: [1/1]
Reth cracked open one eye.
"…Huh."
He stared at the ceiling a moment longer, lips parting in a grin that curled slow and sly.
The candle flickered as if amused.
"One order... once a week…" He rolled onto his side, hand tucked under his cheek, bruised ribs twinging with each breath. "Guess that's what loyalty gets you. A little leash slack."
He didn't know whether to laugh or be worried.
"Disobedience…" he muttered, tasting the word like old wine. "Yeah. That might come in handy."
His eyes fluttered shut again, the faint pulse of the system notification still glowing faintly behind his eyelids.
A skill that let him say no—just once.