"And do you know the punchline to that tragedy, Princess?" Eren whispered, his tone laced with dark, tragic intimacy. "To fuel your endless war against the empire, you end up addicted to the same thing that was the reason for your mother’s death. You drown in it."
He gently reached up, his warm fingers covering her trembling hands, peeling them softly off his collar.
"Are you satisfied now, Princess Seraphina Vos Regulas?"
Seraphina stood completely paralyzed, her chest heaving.
Eren let out a soft, warm exhale, his expression softening as he reached out. With gentle fingers, he tucked a stray lock of silver hair behind her ear, his thumb brushing against her bruised cheek with genuine, tender reassurance.
"My objective hasn’t shifted an inch since the moment I stepped onto this mess. I am here to protect the people I care about. That includes Aria, that includes your mother, and whether your royal pride likes it or not, that includes you."
He turned back toward the dark corridor, waving a hand over his shoulder.
"If there’s an unknown third party out there who shares knowledge of the future, and they’re not the throne to us... then we let them play guardian angel for now. One crisis at a time, ladies. Let’s go to Santa Claus."
Seraphina’s face turned pink as she hurried her pace to keep up with him.
"Why are you so damn stubborn about saving me anyway?!" Seraphina grumbled under her breath, crossing her arms defensively to hide the thudding against her ribs. "You talk like you owe me an imperial debt when half the time I treat you like a nuisance."
"Who knows, Princess? Feel free to crack open my skull with your rapier and look for the theoretical proof."
Aria let out an unrestrained laugh at his expense.
Seraphina instantly snapped a glare toward her friend, which only provoked the blue-haired Villainess to giggle harder behind her palm.
"Insufferable idiot..." Seraphina muttered, dropping her gaze to the floor.
Yet beside her, Aria caught the faint, unmistakable upward curve of the silver-haired princess’s lips.
They reached another floor and reached the detention ward. A wide, iron-reinforced corridor stretched on both sides with heavy cell doors.
As Eren strolled past the iron grates, the shift in the air was instantaneous. Shuffling chains clinked frantically. Bruised, hardened mercenaries pressed against the bars at the sight of the dark-haired youth.
Aria and Seraphina noticed the terror rippling through the cells.
At the very end of the hall stood a heavily warded isolation cell. Stationed outside were three retainers.
The man standing at the center was an absolute mountain with the lethal, unyielding poise of a seasoned apex fighter. He might even be stronger than Emma.
"Cinon," Seraphina called out, her voice regaining every ounce of its regal, commanding sharpness.
The giant snapped to attention, his sharp gaze softening instantly as he bowed with discipline.
"Your Imperial Highness," Cinon greeted in a deep, gravelly baritone. "You should not have descended to such a foul place yourself. A single summons through the array and I would have reported to your parlor immediately."
Seraphina gestured toward the reinforced iron viewport, peering into the gloom where their portly, white-bearded Santa Claus was strapped securely to an interrogation chair, his chin slumped against his chest.
"Has he coughed anything useful yet?" she asked, her crimson eyes cold.
"Not a word, Princess. The pig hasn’t broken."
Cinon’s gaze narrowed at the dark-haired youth standing casually between the two imperial noblewomen.
"Open the cell, Cinon," Seraphina commanded with royal authority. "Lord Volsver will conduct this round of questioning."
Cinon hesitated, his brow furrowing deeply. "Forgive me, Your Highness, but we strictly forbid civilians in the interrogation chamber. This prisoner is an unyielding brute. Letting an academy nobleboy inside is—"
"He’s the one who pulverized the syndicate and bagged that pig in the first place," Seraphina cut in flatly.
The two flanking retainers visibly choked on their breath, their eyes bulging as they snapped their heads toward Eren.
Cinon froze, looking at Eren’s lean dressed frame. Cinon had personally conducted the clean-up operation of the warehouse. He had seen the reinforced vault door peeled open like cheap metal; he had counted thirty elite, black-market enforcers laid out with broken limbs. He had spent the entire week assuming Princess Seraphina had secretly deployed an off-the-books strike team.
’This kid did that solo?’
Eren merely offered an easy, nonchalant shrug.
Cinon swallowed the dry lump in his throat, silently tapped the key into the heavy iron lock, and opened the door.
Just as Eren crossed the threshold, footsteps echoed down the corridor. Emily arrived, slightly breathless from escorting the Empress to the inner parlor.
"Princess!" Emily called, stopping beside Aria. Her dark eyes instantly locked onto the figure slipping into the cell. "Wait—why on earth is Lord Eren entering the high-security cell?!"
"Quiet, Emily," Aria murmured smoothly, crossing her arms beneath her bust. "Just watch."
Inside the dim chamber, the door slammed shut, sealing Eren in with the white-bearded syndicate boss. His bruised face was swollen, dried blood caking his split lip, and his head hung limp against his barrel chest.
Eren walked over, stopping directly in front of the chair. Reaching out with a lazily raised boot, he tapped the leg.
"Rise and shine," Eren drawled. "Your shift just started."
The old smuggler stirred with a wheeze, coughing up blood onto the floor. He didn’t even bother lifting his chin, his raspy voice slurring through broken teeth: "Go fuck yourself, imperial dog... I told you, I don’t know a damn—"
"Eyes on me, old man," Eren murmured in a low, chilling cadence.
The smuggler blinked through the swollen slits of his eyelids, his vision gradually sharpening on the face hovering inches from his own. The youth before him wore a tailored coat, dark hair combed back messily, an easy, mocking smile on his lips.
Yet as the smuggler looked straight into those dark blue eyes, a primal, paralyzing horror crept into his chest.
"Y-You..." the boss gasped, the color instantly draining from his face. "It’s... you..."
"Ho, ho, ho! Thanks for recognising me, Santa," Eren grinned, clicking his tongue. "I see your memory isn’t entirely rotten."
Reaching into his coat pocket, Eren pulled out the glass vial containing green fluid. Flicking the seal off with his thumb, he reached out with his left hand, clamped the old man’s jaw with an iron grip that threatened to crack the bone, and forcefully tilted his head back.
"Drink up," Eren said softly. "I prepared a refreshment just for you."
He dumped the viscous green concoction straight down the smuggler’s throat.
The boss thrashed against the iron chains with a frantic, muffled gurgle, coughing violently as he swallowed the liquid. Within three seconds, the catalyst detonated across his nervous system.
His pupils dilated until his eyes were almost entirely black, veins spider-webbing across his temples in a faint, sickly glow. His thrashing abruptly ceased, his jaw going entirely slack, drool pooling at his chin as his mental defenses dissolved.
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