The moment the King stepped out of the palace, the air in the capital shifted.



The people felt it.



The guards knew it.



And the nobles?



They panicked.



Because if the War King was moving personally...



Then someone was about to die.



Golden eyes cold and calculating, the King mounted his horse.



"Report," he ordered.



A knight bowed deeply.



"We've searched the noble districts and the eastern quarters. No sign of her, Your Majesty."



The King's fingers tightened on the reins.



"...Then we move to the slums."



His voice was calm.



Too calm.



Like the quiet before a storm.



And everyone knew—



The storm was coming.



As he rode through the streets, the city held its breath.

1. Merchants shut down their stalls.

2. Citizens whispered and hurried inside.

3. Even criminals scattered into the shadows.



Because the King wasn't just searching.



He was hunting.



And whoever had taken his maid—



Would soon regret it.



~~~



While the King led a precise, tactical search—



Cassian and Duke Adrian were doing the exact opposite.



Cassian kicked down the doors of multiple taverns. Duke Adrian interrogated terrified nobles in their own homes. A random guy coughed in the wrong direction—Cassian flipped an entire table.



"WHERE IS SHE?!" Cassian bellowed.



The poor bartender cowered.



"I-I don't know!"



Cassian grabbed him by the collar.



"TELL ME YOU LOVE YOUR LIFE."



"I LOVE MY LIFE."



"THEN START TALKING."



Meanwhile—



Duke Adrian was politely terrifying.



He sat in an aristocrat's private lounge, sipping tea as he spoke coldly.



"I will ask once," he murmured.



"Where. Is. Thalia?"



The nobleman sweated.



"I-I don't know—"



Adrian set his teacup down.



And then, with one precise motion, he sliced through the table with his sword.



The nobleman nearly fainted.



By the end of the night, they had:

1. Destroyed four taverns.

2. Terrified half the noble class.

3. Nearly started three riots.



And they still had no idea where she was.



But one thing was clear.



The entire city knew her name now.



~~~



Meanwhile—



Back in the dungeon of doom—



I had decided to take matters into my own hands.



It was time for an escape.



A brilliant, well-planned, strategic escape.



That immediately went wrong.



Escape Attempt #1: The Graceful Exit (That Wasn't Graceful at All)



I tried squeezing through the bars.



Unfortunately, I had overestimated my flexibility.



Halfway through, I got stuck.



For ten whole minutes.



A prisoner from another cell watched in horror.



"...Are you alright?"



"DO I LOOK ALRIGHT?!" I screeched.



I finally wiggled free—



And faceplanted onto the floor.



Escape Attempt #2: The Classic Throwing Things Method



With no other options, I did the next logical thing.



I started throwing everything I could find at my kidnappers.



An old spoon? Thrown.

A broken chair leg? Thrown.

A bucket? Absolutely thrown.



A guard walked in, unimpressed.



"...Are you serious?"



I picked up a potato.



"...Don't test me."



The prisoners in the other cells started cheering.



"YEAH, SHOW 'EM, MAID GIRL!"



Escape Attempt #3: The Dramatic Performance



When brute force failed, I turned to my last and most powerful weapon.



Dramatic storytelling.



I collapsed against the bars, sighing loudly.



"Ah, tragic! To be trapped in such darkness! It reminds me of a love story I once knew..."



The prisoners leaned forward eagerly.



"Another one?!"



I smirked.



"Oh yes. A tale of passion, betrayal... and kisses in the rain."



The guards groaned loudly.



"Not this again—"



"SILENCE!" I declared. "Let me set the scene..."



And so—



For the next hour, I gave a passionate retelling of a romance movie.



The prisoners hung onto every word.



And by the end, at least one of them was crying.



"But do they confess?!" someone wailed.



I sighed dramatically.



"Ah, my dear audience, the rain fell upon them as he cupped her face—"



Then I paused.



"...Actually, I really need water. Been talking for too long."



A prisoner immediately turned to the guards.



"HEY! GET HER SOME WATER!"



The kidnappers, who had been ignoring me for hours, looked absolutely done.



"Why is she like this?" one muttered.



While I was causing havoc in the dungeon—



Everything went silent.



Dark. Cold. Still.



The kidnappers stood guarding their prize, unaware that their final moments had arrived.



Then—



A single thunderous sound erupted.



BOOM.



The iron door exploded inward, crashing into the stone wall.



The ground shook beneath their feet.



And in the thick smoke and dust, a tall, ominous figure emerged.



His golden eyes burned through the shadows.



A sword dripped with fresh blood.



And the air around him was deadly still.



The King had arrived.



The kidnappers barely had time to react before—

✔ One was impaled on the spot.

✔ Two more were cut down instantly.

✔ The last one pissed himself and collapsed.



The only one still alive was frozen in fear, his body trembling violently.



Then—



The King spoke.



His voice was low, calm, and terrifying.



"Where is she?"



The man fell to his knees.



"Y-YOUR MAJESTY—"



"Where. Is. She?"



The last kidnapper pointed a shaking hand toward a cell.



And then, without another word, the King slit his throat.



~~~



Inside the cell, I had been in the middle of dramatically retelling a love story to my fellow prisoners when—



I heard it.



The crash.



The sound of death.



And then—



The unmistakable presence of him.



I whipped my head around, eyes wide—



And there he was.



My greatest shield against danger.



My walking nightmare of a boss.



His Majesty the King.



Without thinking, I sprinted forward.



"YOUR MAJESTY!!"



I threw myself at him, latching onto his coat like a distressed child.



Then—



I exploded.



"FINALLY, YOU'RE HERE!!" I wailed dramatically.



The King blinked. The knights blinked. Even the half-dead prisoners blinked.



But I wasn't done.



DO YOU KNOW WHAT THEY DID TO ME?!" I clutched his coat tighter, glaring up at him with watery eyes.



"They didn't give me water! WATER, YOUR MAJESTY!! I almost DIED OF DEHYDRATION!"



The King stared down at me, silent.



I sniffled dramatically.



"And THIS—" I held up my elbow, shoving it toward his face, "—LOOK AT THIS SCRATCH! My precious, precious elbow!"



The King's golden eyes lowered.



It was... a small scratch.



Barely noticeable.



But I wasn't finished.



"DO YOU KNOW HOW IMPORTANT THIS ELBOW IS?!" I gasped, clutching my own arm.



The King raised an eyebrow.



"...Your elbow?"



"YES! THIS IS THE ELBOW I USE TO MASSAGE YOUR SHOULDERS! IT'S PRACTICALLY A NATIONAL TREASURE!"



The entire room was dead silent.



The knights behind the King looked like they were about to choke on laughter.



The King...



Was still staring at me.



"And another thing!" I continued. "This place is DISGUSTING! The walls? Crumbling. The air? STINKS. The beds? WAIT, THERE AREN'T EVEN BEDS!"



I dramatically collapsed against him.



"Your Majesty... I've suffered."



The King tilted his head.



"...So I see."



Then—



I clutched his coat tighter, glaring up at him with teary eyes.



"I DEMAND A MONTH OFF! WITH PAY! AND FREE SNACKS!"



A pause.



A long pause.



Then—



For the first time since I had met him—



The King smiled.



The air shifted.



The once terrifying War King, who had just slaughtered an entire group of men, was now...



Smiling.



At me.



Like I was the most amusing thing he had ever seen.



I froze.



Then, slowly—



I narrowed my eyes.



"...Who are you?"



His golden eyes glowed with amusement.



I stepped back immediately.



"No, seriously—who are you? Are you possessed?"



The King exhaled sharply, shaking his head.



"Maybe I should have let you stay in the dungeon longer," he muttered.



I gasped dramatically.



"Your Majesty! How could you say that after all I've been through?!"



He simply placed a heavy hand on my head, effectively silencing me.



Then, with ease, he picked me up like I weighed nothing.



I squeaked in protest.



"Wait, I can walk—"



"You're injured," he cut me off.



"IT'S A SCRATCH!"



"And you're delirious."



I pouted.



"Then at least let me take the potato with me."



"...No."



By the time morning arrived, the city was in chaos.



Because overnight—

- The slums were raided.

- A noble family mysteriously vanished.

- Every single person connected to the kidnapping was... no longer breathing.



The message was clear.



Touch what belongs to the King, and you will cease to exist.



As for me?



I got a week off.



Not a month.



But hey, progress.