The last leaf was falling from the tree visible outside the window.
Not that it mattered—thanks to the strange rules behind the stage, new buds would sprout and flowers would bloom in less than a minute anyway.
Godric, who had brought me to the bathroom, stood still by the door without coming in.
Through the swirling steam, he appeared faintly, wringing out the water from his soaked sleeves. Every time he touched me, I had flailed so wildly that I almost drowned three times—so now, he kept his distance.
After all that chaos, Godric must have learned his lesson.
"So stubborn."
He was talking about my determination—not to let anything slide easily in front of me.
At the flick of Godric's finger, the attendants who had been waiting against the wall came forward. They helped me out of the tub so I wouldn't stumble.
My legs were already too weak to support me, so it was a relief. As I leaned on them for support, I glanced sideways and counted the attendants.
'There are more of them now.'
It had started with just one, but recently the number had grown to three or four. Godric must have assigned more. Well, it wasn't easy tending to someone all by yourself.
'They're all a bit… peculiar, though.'
"I-I-I will help you get dressed, s-s-sir!"
One attendant spoke, with a deep donut-like hole sunken right in the middle of their face. Still, they had a perfectly normal mouth, so it wasn't as if they couldn't speak. Honestly, even standing there completely unclothed would be less embarrassing than this.
I nicknamed this one "Donut Head" in my mind. Compared to the others, Donut Head's limbs were a bit less stiff, so they usually took on the more delicate tasks. It was a little creepy, but maybe… it was still better than being alone with Godric. Or maybe not.
Once I was dressed, Godric, who had been watching quietly from a distance, approached. Before lifting me up, he bent down and lightly tapped my ankle.
"You're going to forget how to walk at this rate."
'I wouldn't, if you hadn't locked me up in here.'
Looking down at the king crouched at my feet, Godric then lifted me up in both arms and met my gaze. His red eyes narrowed slightly.
"So disobedient, hmm? Who spoiled you like this, I wonder."
He spoke like someone dealing with a stubborn child. I gave him a brief glance and then turned my gaze away.
It was annoying how he kept poking at my nerves, but not so much that I couldn't handle it with indifference. Godric, now used to my consistent lack of response, simply moved on.
But not toward the bedroom—he turned a corner in the hallway and headed outside.
'This is a first.'
Until now, my days had gone in endless circles between the bedroom and bathroom. This was the first time I'd gone off that path. From above my head, Godric muttered in a low voice.
"So frail now, all because I kept you locked away."
Sometimes, I really had to wonder—what on earth did this man think I was?
The place Godric led us to looked like one of the royal courtyards.
It wasn't especially large—more of a small garden, arranged in the space between buildings like a plaza.
There it was: the flowering tree I'd seen through the bathroom window, the one that had shed its last leaf—or rather, its last blossom.
Its slender, supple branches stretched upward as if trying to grasp the clouds. At the ends of the long branches bloomed small, rounded buds like snowflakes, blossoming in clusters, then shedding their petals like falling beads.
As I stared blankly at the tree, which bloomed and withered so quickly, Godric finally set me down. The feel of soft grass under my feet was unfamiliar.
It had only been three days, and yet the outside world already felt this foreign.
"You seem to like it," he said.
I hadn't worn shoes in a while—no need, since I never went anywhere on my own—so the grass brushing against my bare feet tickled, making me curl my toes. As I did, I could feel Godric watching me closely.
He extended an elbow in my direction.
'What now?'
"You should walk a bit before you forget how to."
I stared at his arm for a moment before realizing what it was for: an escort.
'Seriously?'
I tried to ignore him and walk off, but Godric, as if expecting that, casually grabbed my hand. His fingers slipped between mine and held tight like vines, binding me with no intention of letting go.
"You shouldn't run off during a stroll."
What is this, a leash?
He gave a small smile and began walking slowly. His cool, bony hand was a little annoying, but soon, even that didn't bother me so much. My mood started to lift.
I could hardly believe how free I felt—just from being able to walk lightly, without shackles.
Sure, I felt a little refreshed now after a short walk… but if I stayed here too long and started getting used to this captivity—
'I'd rather not imagine that.'
I began to worry about Orlie, who was likely somewhere underground.
I couldn't pinpoint exactly when Godric had captured him, but if he'd been inside Kargasthol, he must have felt time stretch far longer than it passed outside.
Lost in thought, I wandered the courtyard in circles, and before long, my body started to feel sluggish. Maybe it was because day and night kept flipping so erratically above my head—my mind was starting to feel dull, too.
I tugged lightly at Godric's sleeve to slow the pace, and he led me to a small pavilion in the courtyard.
"You have no energy because you're not eating properly."
Godric clicked his tongue.
"If you'd stop being so stubborn and just give in, things would be easier."
His tone—murmuring as if mourning my foolishness—was disgustingly insincere.
Still, I said nothing and simply shook my head.
At my response, Godric flicked his fingers. One of the attendants who'd been trailing behind like a shadow stepped forward. As if it had been prearranged, they were carrying a bowl of clear rice porridge.
"Good, good… Feels nice to be outside for once, doesn't it? If you behave, I'll let you out again. Sounds nice, right?"
He started off gently, coaxing. But when I continued to keep my mouth shut, his lips twisted with irritation.
"If you don't finish that bowl, I'll make you watch as that useless thing gets dismantled piece by piece. What's the point of letting something around that can't even serve properly as a coaster?"
Donut Head, the attendant holding the tray, stood perfectly straight. Even after hearing he'd be disassembled limb by limb, he didn't waver—flawlessly still.
Godric grabbed the back of my neck, forcing me to face the servant directly. He whispered low against my ear.
"Eat."
Reluctantly, I took the bowl.
One sip. A pause. Then another, swallowed slowly. Godric had learned by now that forcing it down only made me throw it up—so he simply watched, silent.
Then, coldly, he asked:
"You can squeeze out pity for those wooden puppets… but can't manage even a drop for me?"
He brushed aside a strand of hair that had fallen over my forehead.
"All it does is feed your defiance."
"…"
"If I become your Leovald, then maybe you'll be a little sweeter to me."
He muttered it to himself, with a quiet, chilling tone.
After that brief outing and meal, I was brought back to the bedroom. Godric set me down on the bed and, with practiced ease, fastened the shackles around my ankles. He whispered,
"You'd best be asleep by the time I return. You know what that means, don't you?"
Then, with a flick of his cloak, he left.
After spending a few days together, I'd come to notice something else—Godric would regularly disappear like this. Usually around the time I was expected to sleep.
For someone who seemed to think even constant surveillance wasn't enough, wasn't it odd how often he left?
With warm food finally settling in my stomach, the gears in my head, long rusted, started to turn again.
If I had to guess the reason—
'He went to check on Orlie.'
Or maybe—
'He returned to the stage?'
Sub-writer 1 was staying in the capital, Kargasthol, but the character "King Godric" was supposed to be on stage in the Vernis Mountains right now.
According to the storyline, Godric's character was meant to be in the ruins of the old fortress. That's his designated location—his assigned role.
As long as Sub-writer 1 is borrowing Godric's body, he can't be completely free from those rules.
'If my guess is right, then the answer's simple.'
Even though Godric leaves frequently, the actual time he's gone is never long.
In other words—
'Godric has a way to move freely between the Vernis Mountains and the royal capital, Kargasthol.'
I glanced out the window, past the city lights that seemed endlessly wide and far-reaching.
'Of all the possibilities I've considered, this one has the highest probability.'
And now, it was time to test that theory.
I waited for Godric.
I never thought I'd say this with a clear head, but I waited for him with a quiet, desperate urgency. Because there was something I needed to verify.
Sitting upright in bed, eyes wide open, I heard the door creak open. The soft rustle of fabric followed as Godric stepped inside.
Through the canopy, his blurry silhouette came into view. His voice, cold and devoid of warmth, gave a warning:
"I'm fairly certain I told you to be asleep. How long exactly do you think I'll keep letting this slide—"
Now's the time.
The moment to act, built up from everything until now.
For the first time in days, I opened my mouth and barely managed to push out a voice.
"…Even if I want to sleep… I just can't. What do you expect me to do?"
When Godric pulled back the canopy, I was resting my head on one bent knee, staring at him with bloodshot eyes.
'Maybe I rubbed my eyes too hard.'
But for the sake of good acting, pain was a small price to pay.
"It's not that I'm refusing to sleep—I just can't."
I'd said it before, but this time I meant it with half-truths wrapped in enough reality to be convincing.
The hunger strike, the silence, the insomnia over the past few days—I'm not someone who enjoys suffering, but I endured it stubbornly for one reason.
For this very moment. To make it seem like I was breaking—mind and body pushed to their limits.
"I want to sleep… but I just can't…"
After holding it in for so long, the words cracked like a dam finally giving way. Godric was quiet for a moment, then gave a short laugh.
"Well, aren't you high-maintenance. Want me to sing you a lullaby?"
He looked entertained. Of course he did. People like him—emperors, kings—always had that conqueror's instinct.
'He probably wanted to watch me break.'
Fine. I'll give you what you want.
But that doesn't mean I'll make it easy for you to enjoy.