“The problem’s already happened. He escaped solitary, so another disciplinary hearing will be held.”
“No, I mean you. Your reputation, the rumors…”
“Me?”
As he pointed to himself with a finger, Delroz’s brow furrowed. Reputation and gossip? Banteon had been in the spotlight since birth. The moment he let out his first cry, his face had made the front page of the newspaper. Worrying about rumors now felt absurd.
Why was Delroz even concerned about that? Unable to figure out the intent behind the question, Banteon fell silent. Delroz’s brow tightened further. Clicking his tongue softly, he turned away and climbed onto the window sill.
That dark figure jumped down without hesitation. Not even a sound when he landed. As Banteon approached the window and looked down, not even his shadow remained.
Had he really left? Just vanished after leaving behind such a vague promise? Staring out the window, Banteon thought he truly couldn’t understand him.
In the distance, the flashing red lights that had been stinging his eyes went dark. The blaring alarm also came to a stop at the same time.
—Found him!
A guard’s voice echoed faintly from afar. Banteon left his room and headed straight for the solitary confinement block. It felt like he could finally rest now.
It had been a longer day than expected. The fatigue from rushing around all morning to prepare for the date was finally hitting him.
He pulled the blackout curtains shut, plunging the room into perfect darkness, and stretched out on the bed, letting his tension melt away.
***
He woke later than usual. The alarm must not have gone off—or he hadn’t heard it—because bright sunlight was already leaking in through the edges of the blackout curtains.
—Blink. Blink.
A red light flashed on the table. The device he had left there untouched after falling asleep the previous night. Still groggy, he grabbed it and checked the message displayed on the screen with bleary eyes.
The message, sent privately to Banteon, informed him that Delroz’s disciplinary committee meeting was scheduled for this afternoon and asked for his attendance. He hadn’t been present at the previous one under the reasoning that the victim and perpetrator needed to be kept apart. But this time, since the incident was officially unrelated to Banteon, an invitation had been sent.
He tapped the device screen with disinterest.
The original charge against Delroz had been unauthorized approach to a Guide—a violation that normally carried a month of solitary confinement. Delroz, however, had gotten off with just fifteen days.
Though he hadn’t yet been formally knighted, once he completed his training and received his family name, Delroz would become as influential as someone from Esrante. The ones who had shortened his sentence had clearly done so to curry favor in advance.
Even the mere fifteen days had only been handed down because the victim was Banteon. Had it been an ordinary Center Guide, the incident would have been brushed aside like it never happened.
They probably thought Banteon wasn’t involved in this escape, so they’d treat it even more lightly.
Considering yesterday’s commotion, it would be hard to pretend nothing had happened. At most, they’d extend the sentence by a week just to save face, all while carefully avoiding any real offense to Delroz.
Stretching his arms, he sat up. Time to go see the elders who’d be squirming in their seats trying to appease an SS-rank’s ego.
Banteon shrugged off his robe and casually made his way out, ready to enjoy the show.
***
The seats inside the meeting room were nearly full. Compared to the usual disciplinary sessions, which were about a third empty, attendance was surprisingly high.
Banteon calmly surveyed the room and took his designated seat.
“Then bring in the subject of this disciplinary hearing.”
Soon after the Center Director announced the start of the session, a door at the side of the room opened. Delroz stepped out, flanked by security officers on both sides, walking at a leisurely pace. Just like last time, his shirt was unbuttoned and his hair unkempt.
Still, all the murmuring ceased. The whispers and side conversations stopped mid-sentence as everyone turned to look at him. It was hard to admit, but his presence was undeniably overwhelming.
Maybe it was partly due to his size, but the sheer pressure he exuded—despite the handcuffs on both wrists—was unlike anything they could find in anyone else. Banteon leaned back into his seat and crossed his legs.
He might look composed on the outside, but inside, he was completely twisted—and probably mentally unsound.
“As an SS-rank Esper and Center trainee, Delroz has committed the following violations.”
Beside the Center Director, the secretary read out Delroz’s infractions one by one. Starting with the original reason for his solitary confinement, she added the charge of unauthorized escape and further appended items to the list.
“Esper Delroz has yet to explain where he was during the hours he went missing, and he has shown no signs of remorse. Please take this into consideration. Now, does anyone wish to speak?”
At those words, Banteon lightly stroked his chin. So they hadn’t revealed that Delroz had come to his room. Not that a lack of remorse would actually lead to a harsher sentence.
Proof of that could be seen in the way Delroz stood at the center of the room—completely relaxed—while the people staring at him looked visibly uneasy. They needed to support him somehow, reduce his sentence, and leave a good impression. But with him standing there like that, they couldn’t find the right words.
Still, judging by the fact he hadn’t changed clothes yet, he’d likely been interrogated all morning about the reason for his escape. So why was he staying silent?
‘Could it be…’
He suddenly recalled the last thing Delroz had asked before leaving through the window. Surely, he wasn’t trying to interpret Banteon’s silence on his own terms—was he?
When Delroz had first come to his room, throwing a tantrum, he’d said he didn’t care about being misunderstood—yet now, he suddenly cared about appearances. Had he only come to his senses after recklessly stirring up trouble and rumors started spreading for real? Or maybe…
‘Could it be he thinks I hate him?’
There was no other explanation for his sudden change in behavior. Hard to believe as it was, it was still the most plausible hypothesis.
“…Esper Delroz is still a trainee. He hasn’t fully adapted to the Center’s regulations, has he?”
“That’s right. Honestly, putting someone who’s only been in training for a few months into solitary was excessive to begin with.”
“Exactly.”
The sight of people eagerly wagging their tails to get into an SS-rank’s good graces was quite the spectacle.
They were all trying desperately to shield Delroz, scrambling to stand out and leave a favorable impression. Banteon calmly watched the little performance put on by people who usually held high positions somewhere or other.
The Center Director listened quietly, wearing that characteristically genial smile of his, letting the ridiculous excuses wash over him.
‘…Huh?’
Was it just his imagination?
The Center Director’s gaze, which had been fixed on Delroz, briefly flicked over to Banteon. Before Banteon could figure out what that glance had meant, the Director began to speak.
“I understand the general sentiment in this room. It appears that many believe Esper Delroz’s escape from solitary does not warrant additional punishment.”
“Well, I mean, it’s not that we’re saying there shouldn’t be any punishment…”
“Right, it’s just that we think it should be… handled moderately.”
After all that fervent defense, they were now scrambling to step back. They wanted to stay on Delroz’s good side but didn’t want to be the ones to take responsibility. A whole squad was waiting outside the chamber to hear the verdict, and if Delroz got off lightly, criticism would pour in.
They wanted to curry favor with Delroz and avoid backlash. Everyone looked frantic, trying to tightrope the middle. And right at the center of it all, Delroz let out a loud yawn and stretched.
“Takes them long enough to yap.”
Watching the farcical scene like it was someone else’s problem, he commented blandly. Glancing around with an expression of utter boredom, Delroz casually shrugged with his arms folded. The handcuffs on his wrists jingled softly.
Oblivious to the desperate scheming of these sycophantic nobles, Delroz leaned back in his chair and spoke with clear disinterest.
“Just tell me how many more days I gotta rot in solitary. It’s annoying.”
No one called out his disrespect. Everyone only averted their gaze in a rush, afraid of meeting Delroz’s unpleasant eyes.
Among all those flustered faces, the Center Director alone maintained a relaxed smile.
“Haha, we’ll wrap this up quickly. Then, shall we proceed with the sentencing?”
Heads nodded vigorously in agreement. The Director flipped open a thick rulebook and read aloud from one of its pages.
“According to regulation, escaping from solitary results in a doubled sentence. However, as Esper Delroz is still early in his training, the sentence shall be increased by only half.”
As expected.
Banteon chuckled quietly at the number of days mentioned. Just as he’d predicted, they were increasing the sentence by about a week—just enough to save face.
Anyone else would have been locked up for three months. Delroz would walk away with just three weeks. Power truly was convenient.
But there was no way Banteon could sit back and watch that happen. The longer Delroz was confined, the longer Banteon could enjoy his freedom.
As the Director raised the heavy judge’s gavel for the final declaration, just before it struck the wooden block with a crisp sound—Banteon raised his hand.
“I object.”
All eyes in the room, which had been quietly awaiting the verdict, turned to Banteon at once. Among the countless stares, he locked eyes with the golden gaze fixed on him—Delroz’s.
You promised, didn’t you? That you’d serve your full sentence.
