After giving his orders, Luke did not spare Sylas another glance and simply turned to leave the dungeon.
Not long after he was gone, Dierde immediately began carrying them out.
"Drag him out!"
At the order, Sylas was hauled out of his cell by the guards, heavy chains clanking behind him.
The chains scraped over the spiral stairs with a constant metallic rattle, then dragged along the long corridor.
On the way, Sylas saw many fellow mages.
Like him, they were locked behind bars, helpless and despairing.
Then he was taken out of the dungeon.
When the first ray of sunlight fell across Sylas's face, the brightness hit eyes that had not seen such light in so long, and he instinctively squeezed them shut, feeling only the sting of it.
Then, slowly, he opened them again and looked around him, at the wide sky overhead, breathing in fresh air, momentarily dazed.
He had never imagined he would see the light of day again like this.
After spending countless days and nights in the dungeon, this was the first time he had left that place full of filth, stench, and the smell of dead rats.
As the sunlight spread over his whole body, warmth seemed to seep into every corner of him.
His long-silent heart, and the memories he still had of the outside world, were awakened once more.
"What are you standing there for? Move."
With a thud, Dierde, walking behind him, saw Sylas frozen in place and kicked him hard.
Sylas staggered forward two steps and nearly fell. After regaining his balance, he showed no expression at all, did not turn around, and silently kept walking.
Soon, he was brought to the yard.
Dierde, who had just been saddled with a lot of extra work for no good reason, looked at Sylas with visible irritation.
"Start running. Twenty-five laps. If you're short even one before sundown, you don't eat."
Sylas looked at him and the two guards watching him without a word.
He let himself imagine, just for a moment, swinging the chains in his hands, dropping all three of them, and making a run for freedom.
The answer came quickly.
Impossible.
Even though he had not been outside in a very long time, Sylas still knew perfectly well there had to be other guards patrolling the prison.
Not to mention the fact that he was still restrained by those petricite shackles.
Every prisoner who ever looked up at the sky beyond the prison walls had imagined escape, and Sylas was no exception.
But he recognized reality just as quickly.
Dragging the heavy petricite chains, he slowly began to run forward.
The chains were heavy. He had worn them for more than ten years, but even so, running with them still made his whole body feel unbearably weighted down, as if lead had been poured into his legs.
After only three laps, Sylas was already drenched in sweat, breathing hard.
But he never said a word.
He just kept running.
Slower now, but still forward.
From the distance, Dierde sat watching while eating fruit, and even he could not help shaking his head a little in sympathy.
"Tsk, tsk. He's already like this after three laps. Is he even going to be able to walk after twenty-five?"
Even so, Dierde did not particularly care and casually took another bite of fruit.
He honestly had no idea why that prince had it out so badly for Sylas.
Every day, it was always some new method of torment.
At this rate, Dierde genuinely felt Sylas might drop dead from exhaustion one of these days.
Then again, Sylas was stubborn too.
His Highness was such a powerful, noble figure, and yet Sylas mouthed off to him every chance he got.
If he'd just softened up after running his mouth and done some flattering, maybe none of this would be happening.
Instead, every time, it was that same ugly expression.
It was only because that prince had a good temper. If it had been Dierde, he would have ordered Sylas dragged out and executed a long time ago.
"What's this?"
A voice suddenly sounded behind him.
The moment Dierde heard it, he jumped up and turned around, only to find Eldred standing there with a frown. He immediately explained.
"His Highness the prince came by just now and ordered this punishment for Subject Zero."
Hearing that, Eldred turned his gaze toward Sylas, who was still running laps in the yard. After thinking for a second, his brow relaxed.
"Just don't let him die."
"Yes, sir!"
Dierde answered at once.
After that, Eldred withdrew his gaze and turned to leave.
For some reason, that prince seemed to harbor a strange grudge against Subject Zero.
For the last few months, every time something annoyed him, he came down to the dungeon and found a new way to torment the man.
Once his mood improved, he left.
Still, Eldred did not care how Subject Zero was treated.
As long as he did not die, that was enough.
At three-thirty in the afternoon, the carriage slowly came to a stop outside the courtyard gate.
Compared to the last time he returned, the empty courtyard now felt rather quiet.
Judging by the time, Lux and Kahina were probably still at the academy.
As for that sword girl, who knew where she had gone. There was no sound of practice swords coming from the back courtyard.
Not thinking much of it, Luke pushed open the gate and walked into the yard. With nothing else to do, he stretched lazily and then made his way over to the rocking chair, easing himself down into it.
The moment he did, his whole body relaxed.
The weather had been getting colder lately. Lying on the chair did not make him sleepy, exactly. It just made him want to stay there.
A chill breeze drifted through the air, making the already cool weather feel even colder.
When it hit him, Luke suddenly remembered the fine silk clothes he had ordered from the tailor before leaving.
By now, they should be finished.
Thinking of that, Luke opened his eyes and told Yurna, "Go to the tailor shop and bring back the finished clothes."
"Yes."
Yurna answered, turned around, climbed back onto the carriage, and headed for the tailor's shop.
Luke closed his eyes again and continued lounging there at ease, basking in the sun.
The faint warmth of the afternoon sunlight drove away the chill, and a wave of laziness washed over him. He felt as if all the strength had drained out of his body.
The courtyard was especially quiet in the afternoon.
Before long, footsteps sounded outside.
Fiora walked in through the gate and immediately saw Luke lying in the chair. She paused for a second, then asked, "When did you get back?"
Luke opened his eyes, glanced at her, and replied, "Not that long ago."
Fiora looked at him and said, "Good. Come out with me."
"Where?"
Luke asked.
"There's a gathering later. I have to go. Come with me."
The moment he heard the word gathering, Luke immediately lost interest and closed his eyes again.
"Don't want to."
As soon as the words left his mouth, he felt a wave of cold pressure.
Two seconds later, he opened his eyes and found Miss Fiora staring at him in silence.
Luke let out a sigh and got up helplessly.
"Fine. Let's go."
He had never liked things like parties in the first place.
He had received plenty of invitations before, all from young noble men and women of high society.
Luke had never so much as glanced at a single one.
Given the choice, he would rather spend the time lying down a little longer.
The truth was, Fiora felt the same way. If she could choose between attending a party and practicing with the sword a bit longer, she would choose sword practice every time.
But this gathering was different.
The person hosting it was named Charela Byrne, the eldest son of House Byrne.
House Byrne was one of the great noble houses of High Silvermere. As the most famous city in Demacia after the capital, High Silvermere was known as the City of Raptors and the City of Swords, and it was home to many noble houses.
Even houses like the Crownguards and the Laurents of the capital had originally moved there from High Silvermere.
And in High Silvermere, both families still had branch lines, along with some members of the main line as well.
Because the national celebration day was drawing near, many nobles from High Silvermere had already arrived in the capital ahead of time.
This gathering had been organized by Charela specifically to bring together the younger nobles of High Silvermere and the capital.
Fiora had originally wanted to refuse.
But House Byrne and House Laurent had been close for generations, many of Fiora's friends from High Silvermere would be attending, and on top of that, members of her family from High Silvermere wanted her there too.
Under those circumstances, she had no real room to decline.
Then, when she happened to see Luke back today, she thought that since she had to go anyway, why not drag him along too?
At the very least, it would keep the whole thing from being completely boring.
"This is exactly the kind of mentality where if you're miserable, you can't stand letting anyone else have a good time."
Sitting in the Laurent family carriage, Luke gave his verdict after hearing Fiora explain all that.
Wasn't he better off lying at home?
As a full-blown introvert, the thing he hated most was social stuff like this.
This sword girl obviously hated it too, so she had decided to make him suffer with her.
"You can call it that."
Fiora crossed one leg over the other as she sat beside him, and a slight smile curved at her lips.
When she smiled, she really was beautiful, like a snow lotus in bloom, instantly softening that cool, distant air she usually carried.
Luke still remembered the expression she had worn when they first met—cold and indifferent.
Now, though, he got to see her smile fairly often.
When Fiora noticed that Luke was watching her too, amusement in his eyes, she met his gaze.
A few seconds later, she was the first to look away.
She lifted the carriage curtain and looked outside.
"We should be there soon."
"Wake me when we arrive."
Luke smiled, leaned back against the carriage wall, and closed his eyes.
About ten minutes later, the carriage came to a slow stop outside an estate.
It was a large estate, and a great many carriages from various noble families were already parked outside.
The butler at the entrance recognized the Laurent carriage at once and had the gates opened, ushering the two of them inside.
"Fiora, over here!"
They had barely gone a few steps into the estate when Luke saw a man in fine clothes with curled hair waving to them.
The man was fairly tall and rather handsome in a sharp sort of way.
Fiora led Luke over to him.
The man took one look at Luke, froze for a second, then studied him more closely before immediately bowing.
"It's an honor to meet you, Your Highness. I'm Ammdar Laurent, Fiora's older brother."
"A pleasure."
Luke returned the greeting and took a look at Ammdar as well.
This was the eldest son of House Laurent, Sébastien's firstborn, and currently the most outstanding swordsman among the family's younger generation.
Luke had heard that Ammdar was already gaining a name for himself in High Silvermere, with people quietly saying he might help restore House Laurent's prestige in swordsmanship.
A lot was expected of him.
Ammdar, for his part, was very curious about Luke as well.
After arriving in the capital, he had heard a great deal about Luke from his parents.
And what shocked him most was learning that his younger sister apparently had an unusually good relationship with this prince.
That had nearly made Ammdar's jaw hit the floor.
Because in his memory, when had his sister ever had a good relationship with any man?
Even back in High Silvermere, she had always been extremely cold toward men.
And as she grew older, that coldness had not diminished at all. If anything, it had become more obvious.
But now that she was in the capital, she was constantly going over to his house?
That naturally left Ammdar deeply curious about what kind of person this prince was—someone who could actually hold his sister's interest.
On first impression, Luke's appearance was flawless.
And lately, Ammdar had also been hearing quite a few stories about him.
Suppressing his curiosity for the moment, Ammdar said, "The banquet's about to start. Come with me."
The three of them headed deeper into the estate, entered the main residence, and made their way toward the main hall.
When they reached the entrance, the doors were wide open. Inside the spacious hall, young noble men and women in elegant clothes moved about, and lively conversation filled the air.
Some of the faces Luke recognized. Others were unfamiliar, nobles who had come from High Silvermere.
Before going in, Ammdar lowered his voice and said to Fiora, "I know you don't like this sort of occasion, but remember what Mother said. Don't keep staring at people with that cold expression."
Fiora nodded.
Her cool face, however, did not change in the slightest.
Seeing that, Ammdar could only sigh. He knew he could not control her.
As her older brother, he had absolutely no authority in front of Fiora.
Otherwise, she would never have bullied him into teaching her swordsmanship when they were little.
"Forget it. Do whatever makes you happy."
Ammdar gave up, put on a smile of his own, and walked inside.
Fiora and Luke followed.
The moment the three of them entered the main hall, they drew a great deal of attention.
"Look, it's His Highness!"
"That's a rare sight. I can't believe I'm seeing him at an event like this."
"Did he come with the Laurent siblings?"
"He really is as handsome as the rumors say."
The whispers rose one after another, and a great many eyes turned their way.
Luke was dressed in fairly ordinary formalwear, but he was the kind of person who looked extremely good in anything.
Seeing him make such a rare appearance at a banquet, the eyes of quite a few noble ladies lit up at once.
There were always plenty of gatherings among the young nobles of the capital.
Formal invitations would be sent out, and whoever received one could attend.
Luke, being young himself and already quite famous, had received plenty of invitations over time.
But he had always left those to Yurna to deal with and had never attended of his own accord.
So to the noble sons and daughters present, his appearance felt like spotting a rare guest nobody expected to see.
A crowd immediately gathered around him, warmly offering greetings.
Luke responded to them one by one.
This was one of the reasons he found banquets such a pain. Just saying hello to everyone could take forever.
It was like back then, when it had taken him nearly a whole day just to learn who all the nobles of the capital were.
Still, these noble ladies all had enough sense to stop after greeting him. Once they had their turn, they dispersed and went back to their own conversations.
Then another person approached.
He had black hair, a tall build, and handsome features, with an especially refined air about him.
This was Charela, the host of the banquet.
Dressed in elaborate formalwear, he stopped before Fiora and smiled.
"Long time no see, Fiora."
"Long time no see."
Fiora answered out of courtesy, her tone flat.
"You seem a little more mature than last year."
Charela looked at Fiora as he made a bit of small talk, then extended an invitation.
"I still haven't found a partner for the dance later. Would you do me the honor?"
"Not really."
Fiora rejected him without a second thought and said flatly, "I already have a partner."
"You're still as direct as ever."
Charela smiled, then shifted his gaze to Luke and gave him a small bow.
"Your Highness, I hope you enjoy yourself at my banquet."
"Mm."
Luke nodded.
"Fiora, try to enjoy the evening."
Charela looked at her once more, smiled, and then turned away.
But once he did, the smile disappeared.
A server passed by carrying a tray with several glasses of wine.
Luke casually took one, tasted it, and realized it was his own family's wine.
Clearly, House Laurent had already opened up the noble market as well.
Then, thinking back to what Fiora had just said, he asked, "When you said you already had a dance partner, were you talking about me?"
Fiora looked at him.
"Who else would I mean?"
"You may not believe this, but I don't know how to dance."
After saying that, Luke took another sip from his glass.
He really had never learned.
Among upper-class nobles, there were only a few common dances, and the most popular by far was the waltz.
Luke, however, had never had the slightest interest in any of that.
His answer made Fiora fall silent for a moment.
Thinking about it, she realized she really had never seen him dance much at all.
The absurd image she had of him as someone good at everything had made her assume he could do anything.
So finding out that he could not even dance at a formal ball actually caught her off guard.
"So what now?"
Luke saw Miss Fiora go quiet, then thought for a moment before saying, "Honestly, if you're not afraid of embarrassing yourself, I can still give it a try."
"We don't have to dance."
Fiora shook her head.
It was not that she was afraid of embarrassment. If neither of them really knew what they were doing, there was no point forcing it.
After a moment, though, she still added, "I do think you should learn eventually. There'll be plenty of occasions later where it'll come in handy."
Luke thought about it and nodded.
"In that case, I'll be counting on you to teach me."
When it came to the waltz, Fiora could absolutely be considered master-level.
After all, House Laurent's swordsmanship had originally drawn inspiration from the footwork of the waltz.
So among the Laurent family, learning the waltz was considered essential, whether you were male or female.
"Mm."
Fiora did not refuse and gave a small nod.
The two of them found a place to sit down, and the atmosphere around them stood in strange contrast to the rest of the banquet.
Quite a few people came over to talk during that time, including some of Fiora's old female friends from High Silvermere.
With them, Fiora unusually chatted a little more than usual.
But as they talked, the topic gradually shifted to Luke, who was sitting off to the side eating pastries.
Before long, he became the center of the conversation.
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