Today was my long-awaited release, and it seemed that my guard felt it more than I did judging by the way he sprinted towards me from afar.
He clung to the bars in an instant, fumbling hastily to unlock them. His eagerness was so palpable that it was almost pitiful to watch. It then dawned on me that he'd been glancing at the lock for the past five days not to check its security, but out of a desire to open it immediately.
I'm sorry.
I also felt regret toward the others, but it was particularly strong towards this guard. I wonder if I treated him too much like a butler when he was supposed to be strict and serious with the prisoners.
He honestly treated me well, so I mistook him for a butler. Though it was unintended, I truly felt sorry...
"You've worked hard, Executive Manager."
The guard bowed deeply as soon as the door opened, his head nearly touching the ground while simultaneously extending his hands to return my belongings.
It felt awkward to thank the person who had kept me imprisoned, but I didn't want to shatter the guard’s evident relief.
Yes, I had a tough time. If the guard said so, then we should leave it at that.
"Thanks to you, I could live comfortably. I won't forget it."
Still, I couldn’t just move on without expressing my gratitude, so I patted the guard on the shoulder a few times, feeling both apologetic and thankful.
"Excuse me, Executive Manager."
While I was collecting my things, the guard, who had been bending over, carefully stood up.
I looked at him without much thought but then realized that his complexion was off.
What's going on?
How strange. Was there another problem?
What could possibly go wrong now that I was being released? It didn't make sense for it to be a visitation issue; I could simply meet them outside.
Did they extend my sentence?
For a moment, I even thought that they might have extended my imprisonment. I felt panicked, fearing he might say, 'His Highness the Crown Prince has ordered you to stay imprisoned a few more days.'
Why would they open the door if my sentence was extended? Maybe they were planning to move me to another prison? The Crown Prince's madness was unpredictable, after all.
"The Executive Manager has received a letter."
Luckily, it wasn’t an extension similar to a karaoke session.
The guard took out the letter he had kept safe with trembling hands.
"It’s from His Grace the Invincible Duke.”
Ah, that explains it.
The guard's face was ashen as if even a slight crease in the letter would cost him his head. Glancing at it, I saw the Invincible Duke’s impressive seal firmly in place. It was indeed from him.
Was he a traitor in his past life or something?
Seeing the guard's distress made me wonder. Could this be the result of some great karma he had accumulated from his past life?
In just five days, he had become entangled with three of the five ducal houses. A simple, ordinary guard wouldn’t be able to handle all that.
...But if that was indeed the case, then I’d be even worse. If the guard was a traitor, then I must have been a traitor who succeeded in selling my country.
"Yes, I got it."
I quickly took it, afraid that the letter might get soaked with sweat if it remained in his hands any longer.
He had already fallen from being a butler to a postman. How far would the guard's authority fall?
***
Relief washed over me as the Invincible Duke's letter left my hands. Holding onto something overwhelmingly burdensome always caused me shivers.
I'll immediately resign after this.
This incident further cemented my decision as I felt the resignation letter which I treasured in my pocket. There was no need to wait until the end of my shift. Forget the handover; it was all unnecessary.
I’m going to submit my resignation letter as soon as the Executive Manager leaves. No one can stop me from quitting this wretched job as a guard.
"You there."
While I contemplated settling in a quiet provincial estate with my savings and severance pay, the Executive Manager's voice interrupted my thoughts.
It seemed like he had finished reading the letter and was looking at me.
When did he call me?
Had he called me several times before I noticed? Fortunately, that didn’t seem to be the case.
If it were, then the Executive Manager's expression wouldn't be so calm. After all, it would mean that a mere guard ignored his call.
"Yes, Executive Manager?"
"What's your name?"
No way. Did I ignore him?
Although his tone was calm, the question sent a chill down my spine and started to make my hands tremble again.
This is insane.
The head of the Prosecutors' Office was asking for my name. The urge to get down on my knees and beg for my life, citing my wife and children as a reason, was overwhelming.
But my body wouldn't move properly after facing the Executive Manager's gaze.
"Th-tha..."
I almost blurted out a different name, but I managed to hold back. Lying would only lead to being caught and punished more severely later.
"Lu-Luciano."
"I see."
I bit my lip as the Executive Manager nodded indifferently.
I had worked hard to avoid this situation, trying not to upset the Executive Manager or give him any reason to complain.
But it seemed that my efforts were still insufficient from a noble's perspective. No matter how hard a commoner tried, I guess they couldn’t see the world as a noble did.
If there is a next life, I wish to be born a noble—
"Here, take this."
The Executive Manager suddenly handed me a business card.
Was this a show of power, like a way of telling me to remember the name of the person who would kill me?
If so, then it was a cruel and terrible thing to do. It definitely fitted the Prosecutors' Office's notorious reputation.
Of course, I couldn't voice those complaints outwardly. Doing that would mean a more painful end.
...What is this?
I took the business card half-heartedly, but there was something unusual about it.
"Excuse me, Executive Manager. What is this?"
I cautiously showed the back of the business card to the Executive Manager. What should have been a blank space was filled with my name and his signature.
The Executive Manager chuckled at my reaction and replied.
“These five days must’ve been tough. Sadly, this is the only gift I can give you right now."
I blinked, puzzled by his statement. Being spared from 'inspection' was fortunate, but why was this considered a gift?
Was collecting business cards considered trendy among the nobles? If so, that made sense. A business card from the Executive Manager would likely fetch a good price among them. Thought it was quite a shame that my name was on it.
"If you have a place you want to go to, just show them this."
I snapped back to reality at those words.
***
Standing in front of the empty cell, I stared blankly at the business card.
"If you have a place you want to go to, just show them this."
I nodded repeatedly to the Executive Manager's kind explanation.
"Even if it suits you, doing the same job gets boring."
I nodded even more vigorously at that. That was one of the reasons I wrote my resignation without hesitation; I had become tired of my long tenure as a guard.
A different position.
My hands began to tremble again, but for a different reason this time.
Who would enjoy being a guard for years? I only stayed due to the unfavorable circumstances and the lack of better opportunities.
But now, I held a master key in my hand, capable of unlocking not just another position but higher ones.
Thank you...!
I repeated the phrase over and over to myself even though no one could hear it.
Five days of suffering? Compared to the grace of the Prosecutor, such trials were mere specks of sand.
I placed the business card in my pocket with reverence, knowing that losing it would be devastating—
What?
My hand collided with something unpleasant as I slipped it inside my pocket. How dare something unknown occupy the sacred space meant for the business card?
Annoyed, I pulled it out and saw that it was the resignation letter.
Disgusting.
It was a pathetic item that only a loser would write, and also something I would no longer need.
I tore up the resignation letter, destroying my ugly past. In doing so, I triumphed over myself.
***
Thanks to a mage sent in advance by the Crown Prince, I arrived at the academy immediately.
It was strange to receive such consideration from the person who had me imprisoned, but I decided to let it go since I was largely to blame for my imprisonment.
I’ll be able to keep my promise.
I tucked the Invincible Duke's letter into my pocket with a sigh of relief.
At first, I thought that the letter was an invitation to meet, which I considered declining politely since I promised to meet Marghetta first after being released.
However, it wasn’t that.
[ I heard the news. It’s regrettable, but I believe this incident will be a stepping stone for Carl to strive even harder, so I'm not worried.]
It contained a simple greeting, followed by words of comfort.
[ I would have liked to visit, but I didn’t want to impose any burden on Sir Carl. So I stayed away, hoping you could rest peacefully for at least these five days. There's always time for us to meet. ]
Unlike a certain minister, this message overflowed with consideration.
Is this what a real adult is like? What about all the adults I knew before?
[ This weekend is my daughter’s birthday, and we’ve planned a small celebration at our territory. She hopes Sir Carl will grace the occasion. Will you come? ]
The meeting was scheduled rather soon.
It reminded me that it was around this time last year that the Crown Princess had her birthday celebration.
It should be fine.
The presence of the Crown Prince was bothersome, but it would be manageable if the Crown Princess was there. At least that madman wouldn’t act out in front of her.
The first meeting right after my release would put my Crown Prince tolerance to the test, but the Crown Princess, the ultimate regulator, would be there.
Alright, I could go without issues.
This will be interesting.
I couldn’t resist the thought of watching the Crown Prince, who usually irked me, as he tried to stay in line under the Crown Princess’s watchful eye.
This was a party I would attend even if I was told not to.
...Of course, I should sort out everything before the weekend. Marghetta might hold me back from going if things weren’t settled by then.