"This is the slave mark," someone said as he paced across the clean marble floor.
"Though it is one of the lesser ones that exist in this world..." His voice was gentle as he gazed up at the giant murals, chin lifted, posture immaculate.
"P... please... I... y-you don't have to do this!" a feminine voice cried from beside him — a girl pinned down by two armored guards.
"No, I don't. You're right..."
He stopped, turning toward her with a soft smile.
"But just... who are you," he whispered as he knelt, caressing her cheek,
"to tell me what to do?"
Her breath hitched, her whole body freezing under the warmth of his touch and the chill behind his eyes.
"...Dear Rina?"
"I am your kingdom's prince. You can't give orders to me, that's bad manners. Though, I'm not one to punish for that,"
He rose effortlessly, crossing to the table and picking up a metal, circular object.
"P-please... I... I'll do anything you want! I-I just want to go back to my family!"
She twisted weakly, her struggles meaningless against the guards' grip.
"Oh, don't worry." He brushed his gloved fingers over the metal with a slick sound. "I won't take your agency away. I'll just... adjust it."
Her mouth fell open. She tried to lean back, to escape, but the guards held her in place.
"W-what do you mean..?!"
He leaned close again, meeting her eyes.
"A thousand years ago, a summoned hero with a shield bought slave women to fight for him. His combat ability was... limited, you see."
The prince sighed, turning the object idly in his hand.
"He relied on enslavement. And despite being bound to him, they loved him."
A faint curl touched his lips.
"At one point, the kingdom removed their brands with high-grade magic. The girls were free."
He paused.
"But despite their freedom... the funniest thing happened."
A soft, almost affectionate laugh escaped him as he brushed a blond lock behind his ear, deep blue eyes glinting.
"They fought to be rebranded. To surrender their free will forever again, to that same weak hero."
He let the metal disk spin between his fingers.
"Imagine that. Grooming so deep you beg to surrender control to an insecure man who needs worship just to feel functional. Terrifying, isn't it?"
He leaned in until his face hovered a breath from hers.
"After witnessing that hero's little display, the kingdom developed a new idea."
He stood and resumed pacing, his steps light.
"We realized slaves are dangerous if they choose not to be enslaved. So after the hero died, our scholars designed a new slave mark. One that recreates that grooming effect with absolute reliability."
He tapped the metal brand with a soft clink.
"After all... why rely on chains or fear? Those break. Those rebel."
He tilted his head, thoughtful.
"Why not create a mark that makes you want to be loyal?"
Her face was drained of color.
He looked down at her with gentle amusement.
"A mark that convinces you that your obedience is your own idea. That devotion is natural. That staying by your master's side is something you think you chose."
'No... no..! No..! No...!!'
"Please... Your Majesty, stop... please, I won't tell anyone...!"
Her voice cracked. Her knees trembled even though she wasn't standing.
'This is a nightmare... please let it be a nightmare...'
"Luckily," he murmured, lifting her chin with two fingers, "I'm not insecure like that hero."
'Kazuya... Kazuya... please...!'
He signaled the guards to brace her neck for branding.
"NO..! NO! JUST— JUST TELL ME WHY! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS!? PLEASE!!"
He didn't step back.
He lowered his face until it nearly touched hers, smiling softly.
"Because you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he said, brushing her cheek with a thumb.
Then the warmth in his eyes vanished like breath on glass.
"...But you're far too naive to be worth the effort of courting."
His voice dropped, almost apologetic.
"Why sculpt a mind that collapses on its own so damn easily like yours? The mark will shape you perfectly, without wasting my time."
Rina's brows shot up.
At that moment, for a reason she couldn't fully fathom...
... Makoto popped into her mind as the prince said those words.
"W-what are you talking about—"
Before she finished, the prince pressed the slave mark to her neck.
'NONONONOONON... NONONONO..!!!'
Rina's eyes darted everywhere, then shut tight.
'My mind is my own, my mind is my own, I'm Rina, my mind is my own..!!'
She didn't realize the guards had already let her go.
Slowly, she blinked her eyes open. She looked at her hands, trying to gather her thoughts.
'I'm me. The prince just made me a slave. I'm a slave..! I'm Rina.. I want to go home with Kazuya and the rest..! I...'
"Alright," the prince said gently, snapping her gaze up to him, "You can leave now."
"H... Huh?" Rina gasped, unsure what to think.
'D... Did it not work, maybe...?'
"...Is probably what you think, right, my lady?" he said, finishing the thought she hadn't spoken. She flinched.
"Uh... Uhm, I—"
"Shh," he raised a palm, "You can leave now. And I'd rather you didn't tell anyone about this. Okay? I won't call, or use you... For now, at least. I'm quite busy."
Even the guards stiffened at his tone, exchanging uneasy looks as Rina stood up, swallowing hard, backing away. Her eyes flicked across the room, never settling, never trusting.
The prince simply watched her with a pleasant, patient smile, giving a small wave as she reached the doorway, still trembling.
"Rina," he said quietly.
She froze.
"I think both of us know it'd be best not to mention this to your... companion, the hero."
He tilted his head slightly.
"Because if he reacts in some way..."
His gaze darkened.
"...we'd also react. Understand?"
"...."
Rina didn't answer. She trembled once, then ran.
"Hmh."
The prince exhaled, already turning away. He brushed a hand across each guard's shoulder as he passed. "Good job bringing her here. You're dismissed."
The guards watched his slender frame glide down the corridor, tall, composed, almost ethereal.
'This kingdom...' one guard thought, jaw tight, 'is rotten to its core.'
The other simply clenched his fists.
The prince continued walking. Guards avoided his eyes. Maids shrank to the walls, heads lowered, as he moved through the castle's halls with calm, unhurried steps. Eventually he reached the throne room.
King Aldric sat alone.
"You are late," the king said, posture straightening as the prince approached.
The prince knelt, silent.
"..."
"Apologies, father. I was occupied."
The king inhaled slowly.
"I know what you've done, Magus."
Silence stretched.
"Is that so, father?"
"Yes," the king said.
A pause.
"...A wise move."
He leaned forward slightly.
"I don't need to explain the rest, do I?"
"No, father."
"Good."
The King leaned on his elbow, a soft exhale as his shoulders loosened.
"Now, where did you get that slave mark from? I would've heard from our Shadow Squad if something as convenient as that appeared somewhere."
"Ah, that," Magus said, chuckling visibly and audibly.
"... That's because, father... That mark doesn't really exist. I made it up."
His eyebrows shot up, but the King's face remained unmoved.
"You... made it up?"
"Haha, I just pressed the cold medallion you gave me for my birthday 10 years ago onto her neck. Telling her it was a slave mark."
The king hummed, pursing his lips in amusement.
"... How devious," The king said with a chuckle.
A few seconds of silence passed.
"... That is how I prevent scrutiny, with minimal resource usage. Just as you taught me." Magus bowed.
The king's tone cooled.
"Very well. Now. Let us discuss your… other duties."
The prince's eyes dimmed, that polished smile faltering for the first time.
"Yes, father."
--- LATER ---
"What kind of job is it, Sir Hicks?" Sato asked as he walked alongside the head instructor in the palace.
"You mentioned you were interested in our politics. And you're good with numbers. So I figured maybe it'd be best if you learned from the best directly." Sir Hicks smiled.
'I really can't read him at all,' Sato thought.
The more he spoke with Sir Hicks, the clearer it became that he wasn't like the rest of the guards.
"Sir Hicks," Sato said. Hicks raised his eyebrows, glancing over.
"Why do the guards hate us? Or... not want to get near us?"
Silence. Hicks looked away.
'Reminds me of back home. When teachers ignored Kazuya giving Makoto and me hell because acknowledging it would bring shame onto our school. Granted, we're not exactly bullied here… But especially the Captain, that Nickelson guy, makes sure to spend as little time as possible with us, and barely answers any questions we have.'
'Makes me wonder just how he managed to get me this job…'
"Hm... Let's just say the reason I've given you this job is so that you make it easier for me to answer that." He smiled.
Sato's mouth fell slightly open.
'An adult openly admitting they can't answer my question instead of avoiding it…? This really is a fantasy world.'
"S-... Yukimura-kun...?"
His head snapped up. Rina was walking toward them from the opposite direction.
'I guess she's returning from her special training with the oracle…?'
But she looked wrong.
"L-... Listen, it's—" She stuttered, glancing at Hicks, who merely smiled at her. Her face paled. She looked away.
"G... Good to see you..." She walked away hurriedly.
Sato scratched his head, watching her go. He turned back to Hicks.
The expression he wore was not a smile.
A visible frown. Cheeks strained and stretched. Fists clenched.
"S-sir...?"
In a flash, he exhaled deeply, the tension releasing from his shoulders.
"Excuse me, Sato. Seeing your friend reminded me there's a matter I must attend to."
"W... With Rina...?"
"Oh, no, no. Related to our princess. Seeing Rina's face reminded me of her."
Sato thought of the prince's twin, away from the city on errands. Whatever business had made Hicks contort like that, it didn't look pleasant.
"Sato," Hicks said, stopping. "Go to your room. Inside you'll find a Royal Guard uniform. Wear it. From that moment on, your name is Gary — my son-in-law."
Sato's face went red.
"Y-your what—"
A firm yet gentle hand settled on his shoulder.
"It's the only way for you to start this job. You're an outer city guard who came to substitute for me under my Captain, Sir Nickelson. He's already aware of it. You mustn't tell anyone your true identity."
'... Under the very Captain who actively avoids us more than anyone?! What?'
Nickelson's figure came to mind; the flowing blond hair, the tall frame always clad in thick armor, the sword as big as Sato's entire body.
'If I had to rank people here by how warmly they treated us, the King would be last. Nickelson would be second to last… This… Ugh. Maybe I should've kept my mouth shut.'
"If you do a good job, he'll approve of you. And then..."
Sato gulped.
"I'll be able to tell you more."