A group of servants helps Axiel put on his armor. Gauntlets, sabatons, greaves, breastplate—just as they were about to attach the pauldrons, an unknown person knocks on the door. One of the servants opens it, finding a maid bearing a message. The servant, assuming it to be yet another love confession for Axiel, decides to turn the woman away and close the door, but changes his mind when the maid asserts that the message is from Captain Hilda.
Axiel receives the parchment, rolled and tied with a black ribbon. After the servants finish helping him with the pauldrons, he requests privacy. The servants bow and withdraw from the bedchamber. He reads the note and raises an eyebrow at its contents. Hilda wants to see him in the dungeon before the meeting in the throne room.
The knight leaves the paper on his wooden desk and grabs the helm waiting on the armor stand. The helmet is crimson, like the rest of his armor; the crest features a rim resembling a crown made of blood-colored petals. Axiel peers into the slit of the visor as if he could find the truth of the world within the darkness of the helm.
Axiel steps out with the helmet tucked under his arm. The two red-caped soldiers posted at the flanks of the bedchamber entrance do not move an inch. The knight exchanges a few words with them before departing. On his way to the dungeon, he encounters two maids in a corridor and offers them a polite smile; they blush in response.
He descends the stairs to the prison. He casts a sidelong glance at the dark, filthy cells. Upon reaching the laboratory, the only three remaining mages look up from the thick grimoire they are studying, and upon recognizing Axiel, simply return to their own affairs. The soldiers guarding the dungeon entrance straighten their backs and offer Axiel a salute before pushing open the heavy, wooden double doors.
The castle brick is replaced by the harsh, jagged stone of a wide cavern, with tunnels to the right and left, and three paths in the center wall descending to another floor of the dungeon. It is obvious to Axiel that the dungeon is growing; his subordinates have also kept him informed about the training exercises for soldiers now taking place underground.
Axiel recognizes the military benefits a creature like the Dungeon Core can provide. He finds it predictable that the other kingdoms want to stick their noses in to find out how the crystal was created. What baffles him is that a person like Arrax, for whom he had very little respect, was capable of forging such an impressive entity. Faced with this enigma, Axiel opts to remain true to his beliefs, assuming that Arrax's fate was to create the Dungeon Core so that more capable men could ultimately harness its potential. With the Dungeon Core already created and fully operational, Arrax had fulfilled his fate and died. Though he never thought the decree of fate would be delivered by Hilda's hands.
Just as he thinks of the one-eyed captain, Hilda emerges from the left tunnel. Ordinarily, Axiel would offer her a smile, but Hilda is one of the few women upon whom his chivalry has no effect.
The woman wears her usual gray steel armor and black cloak, but over it, she wears a black surcoat bearing a green cross from her chest to her stomach, enclosed in a white circle, alongside the symbol of a sword and a quill. It is the emblem of the inquisitor knights—men and women who swore to dedicate their lives and deaths to eradicating evil. It is evident that Hilda, like Axiel, is in diplomatic mode.
"Let us not speak here. Follow me," Hilda says, setting off without giving Axiel a chance to respond or ask questions.
They take the tunnel on the left. From deep within, a cool, sweet dampness reaches their noses. The tunnel widens, and two torches mark the entrance to the garden. They pass through a curtain of creeping vines, and the stone beneath the metal of their boots is replaced by dark, lush grass. Rivulets of clear water spring from the walls, merging into a natural pool located in the center of the subterranean garden.
A group of female goblins dressed in fur rags, resting their feet in the water, lift their heads and begin to sniff with their small noses. Catching a scent they like, they stand up and hurry to scamper around Axiel, laughing, tugging at his cloak, and trying to jump on him with restless green hands. Axiel stands with his eyes wide open, his body frozen. A loud, hoarse grunt from Hilda sends the goblins scattering away from Axiel, fleeing the scene.
"I thank you for that. It was all so unexpected that I struggled to react," Axiel says.
Hilda simply nods and guides him to a secret path camouflaged among climbing plants and moss. The tunnel is narrow; they can only proceed in single file. Clusters of luminescent mushrooms cast a faint glow from the primitive rock ceiling. Axiel notices they are descending and asks where they are heading. Hilda stops and turns to look at him.
"I believe this place will suffice to converse in private," Hilda says.
The faces of both captains take on a sickly hue under the light of the mushrooms. Axiel and Hilda are not the only ones present; Jimbo was watching, and the captain was aware of the dungeon master's presence, yet remained entirely neutral about it.
"I will be blunt with you. Are you having an affair with the Queen?"
The woman's single eye bores into Axiel's expression, which looks grave and somber. To Jimbo's surprise, Axiel does not dodge the accusation, nor does he seem ashamed, much less cornered.
"How did you uncover this?" asks the Knight of the Rose.
"An informant saw you both in the garden last night."
"You collaborate with spies? That sounds far removed from your individualistic style."
"You do not need to know the details of my methods," Hilda says, furrowing her brow, and rests her hand on the pommel of her longsword. "You betrayed the King's trust. I should execute you this very instant…"
Axiel's expression remains unflinching.
"But I will not attack you," the captain continues. "At least, not for now. I shall give you the opportunity to confess your treason to the King; His Majesty will then decide your fate."
For a fleeting moment, the corners of Axiel's lips lift—a brief twitch when Hilda used the word fate. The knight also rests his hand on the pommel of his sword. Hilda tenses. Jim swallows hard, believing for an instant that the situation will end in clashing steel. But Axiel maintains a relaxed posture.
"It would be poetic if the illustrious tale of the Knight of the Rose ended because of love," Axiel says, referring to himself.
"Treason," Hilda spits the word through gritted teeth. She does not find it so easy to maintain her composure. "Do not seek to disguise your obscene romance with elegant flourishes. The only truth is that you have dishonored your oath to the King."
"I understand." Axiel takes a deep breath and lets it out. "Have you ever been in love, Hilda?"
Hilda's only answer is a hoarse grunt. Jimbo, however, feels a twinge of curiosity at the question, since until very recently, Hilda seemed to him like a woman with a heart of stone.
"Though you label it obscene, Gineber and I love each other. I would lay down my life for it, because it is beautiful. And both you and I know that Gineber does not love King Marc. Marriage, to her, was a curse imposed by her father; she did not ask to be Queen, but she did choose my company."
"That matters neither to the gods nor to the stones!" Hilda strikes the wall with the side of her hand. "She has an oath and a duty! Just as you have yours as a knight! Duty does not halt for personal preferences. If you still retain a shred of honor, Axiel, you will confess your transgression to His Majesty and accept your punishment with your head held high."
Such words give way to nearly a minute of silence until Hilda speaks again.
"It may be that you are spared death. You might end up exiled, and perhaps, living as an errant knight, you may find a way to redeem your sins—"
Axiel interrupts her with a single phrase: "I require time."
"Time?" Hilda narrows her lone eye.
"Until the Feast of Saint Valentine." Before Hilda can respond, Axiel drops to one knee and bows his head. "If there is even an ounce of mercy and regard for me within you, I beg you to let me spend the little time I have left with my beloved. The morning after the festivities, I will offer my confession to the King, and I shall offer you my head. I swear it upon my name."
Hilda contemplates him, meditating in silence.
…
They finish speaking. Axiel puts on his helm and takes the opposite path from the captain. Hilda continues along the shortcut until reaching the core room, takes a seat on the bed, and runs her hand down her face. A glimmer of unease dwells in her eye—the lingering question of whether she is making a mistake.
«Why did you let him go?» Jimbo immediately jumps in with his questions. «And... Valentine's Day?»
For obvious reasons, the name sounds powerfully familiar to Jimbo.
"Saint Valentine, an ancient hero. He saved the world for his beloved, and in return, the world offers three days in his honor," Hilda replies before reflecting in silence for several seconds. "The celebrations begin in fourteen days. I believed they would cancel them due to the dark elf threat, but the King wishes for the people to rejoice and forget their troubles, at least for a short while."
«You were very generous with him.»
"It is not generous. They are merely postponing the inevitable. They ruined their lives, and for what? Two weeks of fleeting happiness in exchange for eternal disgrace."
Hilda stands up, states that she must attend a meeting, and heads briskly toward the shortcut.
«Shouldn't you wear a helmet?»
The captain pauses for a moment and answers without looking at him.
"We inquisitors face evil with our faces uncovered. It is the tradition of my knightly order."
Jimbo thinks that's foolishness—cool, sure, but absolute idiocy. Nevertheless, he keeps his criticisms to himself. He knows Hilda is inflexible when it comes to oaths and traditions.
Left alone, Jimbo searches for Dowmy. He finds her in her room, an adjoining chamber to the core room, accessed through a tunnel only as tall as the imp. The bed of piled furs has been turned into a small fort. Jim peeks inside and discovers Dowmy comfortable in the darkness, clipping her toenails with her teeth, licking her arms, and then spitting into her palms to smooth down her pink hair with her hands. She is wearing the pink dress with ribbons and straps that Hilda gave her.
«Dow—»
He can't finish saying her name; the imp startles, the skin of her face turning a bright crimson shade, and lets out a horrific shriek while yelling at Jimbo to go away.
Jim exits the blanket fort quickly, not understanding what is happening. A minute later, Dowmy emerges with her head bowed from among the furs and apologizes. Yet when Jimbo asks what he did to upset her, Dowmy silently shakes her head without giving any clues.
«I have a question, Dowmy. What do you know about Saint Valentine?»
The imp gives a little jump at the mention and opens her eyes wide.
"Human feast. Marnie told me what it is about."
Dowmy practically whispers as she tells it; Jimbo has to levitate two steps away from her to be able to hear and understand. Just as he suspected, it is this fantasy world's counterpart to Valentine's Day. Instead of twenty-four hours, it is three days of games and feasts.
"T-They say whoever marries during the days of Saint Valentine... will be happy forever after."
«The priests must be overwhelmed with so many upcoming weddings.»
In addition to the usual romance, it is customary for men to gift jewelry to their beloveds, and for women to gift food or desserts to their romantic interests. Apparently, there is an entire series of codes regarding these gifts that Jimbo currently has no intention of learning.
«Maybe that's why the maids' interest in my mangoes has grown; they want to prepare desserts for their suitors.»
But the detail that caught Jimbo's attention the most was the fact that, on the night of the third day of festivities, fireworks will be launched.
«Fireworks with gunpowder?»
Dowmy didn't know, so Jimbo took her to the laboratory to ask Marnie. The hooded mage revealed that yes, gunpowder is used because it is cheaper than hiring the services of a circus mage, though gunpowder is also far less impressive than magic.
«Ask her about gunpowder weapons.»
Dowmy obeyed, and not only did Marnie tense up, but the expressions of the other two mages also darkened.
"Is it you who wishes to know...? Or is it...?" Marnie says, pointing timidly toward the double doors of the dungeon. Dowmy nods, and Marnie swallows hard. "Firearms are a taboo subject. It is forbidden to mention them, and attempting to recreate them is punishable by death. Thus decreed the Sorcerer King; it is one of the commandments of peace."
Jimbo doesn't know this Sorcerer King, but just knowing that he hindered progress is enough to make the guy odious to him.
«Especially when progress is my destiny!»
He has no plans to stay in the Stone Age forever.