“Is it wise to show up like this, Grand Duchess?”

Apollonia turned towards her most trusted retainer. “I haven’t been accused of treason yet,” she said and shook her head. The carriage they were in jolted up and down as it rolled over a wooden bridge to traverse a river. A few droplets of water splashed upwards and through the window, landing on Apollonia’s cheek. She dabbed her face with a handkerchief and sighed. “If I don’t show up for her banquet, the empress may create an excuse to have me killed. If I show up, I may be executed. If I don’t show up, I may be executed. There’s no reason not to have my final meal be the dinner served at an empress’s birthday.”

Daniel placed a closed fist against his chest and stared into Apollonia’s eyes. “If the demon lord tries to kill you, I’ll find a way to save you.”

A wry smile appeared on Apollonia’s lips. “Is that so? I appreciate the sentiment, but you and I both know it’s impossible.” The grand duchess turned her head and gazed up at the clouds through the window. “That girl is simply too strong. The only thing we can do is pray she lost her life to the devil or black dragon that took it away.”

***

Mary stared down at the plate by her feet. She was sitting on the ground with her legs crossed. Her armor covered her thighs, but her shins and feet were still bare and smudged with dirt. Steam rose out of the roasted … something in front of her. Mary raised her head away from the unidentified meal and stared at Lindyss. “Am I a prisoner?”

Lindyss turned her head away from her book and stared back at Mary. “Have we treated you like one?”

“…This food smells funny,” Mary said and pursed her lips.

Lindyss’ eyes drifted to Mary’s plate. The meal was exactly how she had presented it to the empress, and the utensils hadn’t even been touched. “Then don’t eat it.”

“I’ll go on a hunger strike,” Mary said. Her stomach growled, but she pretended as if it hadn’t, her gaze still fixed on Lindyss’ face. “I won’t eat. And if I die, it’ll be your fault.”

“Freeloaders don’t get to go on hunger strikes,” Lindyss said. She closed her book, keeping one finger inside to preserve her page. “Did you know that that’s what you are? You’re a freeloader.”

“I’m not,” Mary said. “You imprisoned me here. It’s your responsibility to keep me alive as a prisoner of war.”

Lindyss’ expression darkened. “What war? And you’re not a prisoner. No, rather, why are you still here? Don’t you have other things to do? Other places to be? Why are all the empresses and queens so irresponsible and carefree that they have time to bug me?”

A lump on the cursed elf’s head squirmed as Erin popped out of her hair. “Maybe bugging you is just really, really important? It’s so important that we have to drop everything we’re doing to do it.”

“I’m really not a prisoner?” Mary frowned. “But you have my sword. And the dragon has my armor. I can’t leave without them.” She nodded. “Since I can’t leave, that means you’ve imprisoned me.”

“What if I said I don’t have your sword?” Lindyss asked. “Then what? Will you go away?”

“I still want to fight the devil too,” Mary said and pursed her lips. “And I know you have my sword. Please give it back.”

Lindyss’ expression darkened. “You’re awfully needy for a self-proclaimed prisoner, huh?”

“Please. It means a lot to me.”

The corner of a piece of paper poked Mary’s calf. Grimmy grinned at her when she turned to face him. “Just sign the contract and we’ll return everything to you.”

Mary furrowed her brow as she grabbed the paper. The dense text seemed to jump out at her, and she looked away. “There’s so much to read,” she said and sighed. She placed the contract down and stared at Grimmy. “If I sign this, will you tell me what you meant by the other fellow will take over my body and destroy my soul?”

“You know, that sounds pretty self-explanatory,” Emile said from his position near the front of the cave. “Someone out there wants to take over your body by destroying your soul. What’s so hard to understand about that?”

Mary wandered over to Emile. “But how does he know? Who wants to destroy my soul? How can I defend against it?” She pushed the contract towards the phoenix. “Can you read this for me and tell me if there are any disadvantageous clauses?”

Emile peered at the page. “The very first line says you’ll give up your soul for all eternity to Grimmoldesser after you die. That sounds very disadvantageous. Should I continue?”

“I don’t think I need my soul after I die,” Mary said and bit her lower lip. “Continue.”

Emile stared at Mary. “…Okay.” He cleared his throat and focused his attention back onto the contract. “The next line says that your spouse will be determined by Grimmoldesser.”

Mary tilted her head. “If I don’t like the spouse he chooses, I can beat him up, so that’s okay too. Continue.”

“Your firstborn child will also be given to Grimmoldesser.”

“I don’t plan on having children. Continue.”

“You must become a willing participant in any experiment that Grimmoldesser comes up with.”

Mary furrowed her brow. “For how long?”

Emile squinted at the contract before shrugging. “There’s no time limit, so I’m assuming forever.”

“Forever’s a long time…,” Mary said. “But if it’s only participating in experiments…. I’m used to those, so it should be fine. Continue.”

Lindyss patted Grimmy’s snout. “Has anyone ever been crazy enough to sign one of your contracts?”

“Yep,” Grimmy said. “There’s the few who think they can outsmart me somehow but end up having their souls sucked out of them for breaking the contract. And there’s the ones willing to do anything for a short moment of fame.” He shrugged. “It’s not like I’m offering unbalanced deals either. I take advantage of their desperation and give them an offer just slightly under their breaking point. I mean, really, which one would you rather have? A lot of power, or your firstborn child?”

“…What do you even do with firstborn children?” Lindyss asked. “I’ve never seen you with a kid before. Other than Vur.”

Grimmy cleared his throat. “That’s classified information.”

“I’ll sign it.” Mary walked between Grimmy and Lindyss and held out the contract in her outstretched arms. “Give me something to write with.”

“You’re going to sign it?” Lindyss asked, her eyes widening. “Didn’t I warn you earlier?”

Mary pouted. “But you won’t return my sword.”

“Your sword is really that valuable to you?”

Mary’s head bobbed up and down.

“You’re really willing to give up anything for this sword, huh?”

Mary continued to nod.

Lindyss sighed. “Don’t sign the contract,” she said. “I’ll return your sword to you, but under one condition.”

“Hey,” Grimmy said and poked Lindyss’ side before she could say anything else. “Are you poaching my prey?”

Lindyss snorted. “It feels wrong to watch an innocent young girl fall into your clutches.”

“Wow, I’m offended,” Grimmy said and blew a puff of smoke out of his nostrils.

Lindyss rolled her eyes and reached into her pocket. She took out Mary’s sword and pulled her hand back as the empress extended her arm towards it. “I didn’t say the condition yet,” Lindyss said, taking a few steps back.

“That’s okay,” Mary said as she sidled closer to Lindyss. “I agree. Anything you want. You said you’ll be fairer than the dragon, so it’s okay.” She held her hands out, her palms facing the ceiling. “Sword, please.”

Lindyss sighed as she placed the sword into Mary’s hands. “Don’t regret your decision.”