Chapter 52
It was honestly surprising to learn that Kyle had hidden scars.
But the feeling of pity only lasted for a moment — then the cunning part of me realized this was the perfect gap I could exploit.
If I used his emptiness well, I could easily win his favor and pretend to love him.
And since there was nothing I wouldn’t do to escape from here, I quietly set aside my conscience. Then, before he could react, I grabbed the confused and flustered Kyle and pulled him back down.
He found himself lying on my lap, clearly not by choice, and immediately struggled to sit up.
“What are you doing?”
“You’re still drunk. Unless you want to wobble around in front of the guards again in the morning, go back to sleep.”
When I brushed my fingers through his hair, he flinched, then slowly relaxed.
His hair was smooth — like it had been oiled and carefully kept. My fingers slipped through it effortlessly.
“Why are you being kind all of a sudden? Feeling sorry for me?”
He seemed so lost, unaccustomed to this sort of attention. I ignored it and gently patted his shoulder — people usually fell asleep faster when someone did that.
“You were crying in your sleep.”
“…!”
Kyle’s shoulders stiffened under my hand. I kept patting him and spoke as though it were nothing important.
“You don’t believe me? You were calling for your mother. Not sobbing, exactly, but there were tears. Don’t you remember?”
Even without seeing his face, I could easily guess what expression he was making. I almost wished there were light in the room so I could see it clearly.
Kyle caught my wrist and stopped my hand. His voice was calmer now.
“So… you’re trying to comfort me?”
I looked down at him with an unreadable expression. Even with only the moonlight to see by, I could sense the sadness in his face — and that made things difficult.
What if I really started to pity him?
All of this — the comfort, the kindness — it was supposed to be an act. A deception to make him believe I loved him, so I could get out of this prison.
It was a transaction: I’d give him what he wanted, and I’d get my freedom in return.
“If you need comfort, I’ll give it.”
Kyle stared up at me. He’d demanded genuine love from me — but it wouldn’t be me falling into that trap of affection. It would be him, sinking deeper without even realizing it.
“I don’t need it.”
He turned his head away, but didn’t move from my lap. Deciding to get him to sleep, I began to stroke his hair again, slow and gentle.
When I said I’d comfort him, it wasn’t entirely a lie. Back when I played the role of a saint, one of my duties had been to console the sick and the brokenhearted.
So I asked softly,
“Did it hurt… that your mother didn’t love you?”
“…Even if it did, what difference does that make now?”
“If I loved you, would that ease the pain a little?”
Kyle buried his face deeper into my lap, as though trying to hide his tears. But his breath was damp — I could still feel the moisture in it.
“You remind me of her. The moment you said you could love me… I felt like I was saved.”
I hadn’t expected that. That my words — said as comfort — would touch something so deep inside him.
Suddenly, Kyle looked small. Fragile.
If only someone kind, a real saint-like woman, could love him instead of me…
Someone who could give him the genuine love he longed for, and stay by his side forever.
“I feel like I’ve grown closer to you tonight.”
I gazed off into the distance as I stroked his hair.
“I hope one day your heart can find peace. I mean that.”
Kyle eventually fell completely asleep. I waved a hand in front of his face — no reaction.
Only then did I carefully get off the bed.
But my reason for staying until he slept wasn’t just to win his trust. I needed to steal the key that opened the operating gate.
I already knew the key wasn’t among the ones on his belt. He must have kept it separately.
If it wasn’t on him, then it had to be somewhere in the room — and the most likely place was here, his private chamber, where no one else could enter freely.
I started to move quietly.
I searched through his jacket pockets on a chair, then opened his suitcase — and something heavy dropped to the floor with a dull thud.
“Mm…”
Kyle made a faint noise. I froze completely.
After a few seconds, I bent down carefully and picked it up. It was a small velvet-covered box.
I shook it lightly — no sound. Not the key, then.
I placed it back and set the suitcase down again.
If not here… then where?
Kyle was still asleep, but if I lingered too long, the warden might grow suspicious. I had to leave soon.
Still, I couldn’t go without checking the bedside drawer.
I approached it and tried to open it — it caught with a click. My heart jumped. Kyle coughed.
“Cough, cough… ha… Veronica.”
“Yes, I’m here. Go back to sleep, shh—”
I quickly released the drawer and patted his shoulder, whispering softly. My heart pounded so hard I thought he’d hear it. I waited, sweating, until his breathing steadied again.
If I kept rummaging around, I’d surely get caught. I should’ve just gone back…
But if I didn’t check that drawer now, I knew I’d regret it forever.
So I tried again.
While patting his shoulder with one hand, I gently pried open the drawer with the other.
This time, I lifted the stuck part slightly — it opened smoothly. Inside, my fingers brushed against something cold and flat.
Found it.
The key to the operating gate.
As soon as I closed the drawer and pocketed the key, a knock came from the bedroom door.
I leapt up and rushed to it. One last glance at the sleeping Kyle — then I opened the door.
The guard captain stood there, eyes scanning me from head to toe.
“You took your time.”
He’d been the one to let me in, but now his narrowed eyes showed suspicion. I met his gaze calmly, trying to hide any trace of guilt.
“He fell asleep, woke up, and then went back to sleep again.”
“Is the warden… all right?”
I shrugged dramatically, adding a teasing smile.
“I bandaged him up like you told me, comforted him too. He’ll be fine. But if you’re so worried, maybe you should go in and comfort him yourself? I’m sure the great warden would find your touch very soothing.”
“That’s enough. Back to the dungeon.”
“So I’m useful one minute, and locked up the next? How cruel.”
He shook his head and started walking. I checked the key hidden in my shoe and followed him down the hall.
I couldn’t stop the small, secret smile tugging at my lips.
Now that I’d stolen the key, all that was left was to see if it actually worked.
Back in the underground prison, relief washed over me when I saw Rihardt lying in the opposite cell.
As soon as the guard captain left, Rihardt, who’d only been pretending to sleep, sat up.
“You made it back safely. I was worried you wouldn’t.”
“I found the key.”
I lifted the heavy brass key between my fingers. It was larger than a cell key — unmistakably the one for the operating gate.
Rihardt examined it and nodded slightly.
“How much time do we have?”
“Until Kyle wakes up and notices it’s missing. We’ll have to reach the outer wall before morning.”
“We’ll run into at least two guards between here and the first floor.”
Turning my back to him, I rummaged through my belongings. Unlike before, I now had several items Kyle had allowed me to keep — small conveniences that could be useful.
An oil lantern, a soft wool blanket, and some hay and fleece that softened the hard wooden bed. Perfect for starting a fire.
“If we set the dungeon on fire, the guards will rush us to the upper floor. Then we slip away toward the outer wall and hide inside the tower.”
“No one guards it?”
“I don’t know.”
“What about the patrols inside?”
“Don’t know that either.”
Rihardt sighed deeply, frowning.
“We have no idea how the operating gate works, how many guards are inside, or what lies beyond it. We can’t guarantee our safety. We might be discovered.”
His usually composed face was tense.
Still, he didn’t tell me to abandon the plan.
He only asked one last question, just to make sure.
“Are you certain the operating gate can be activated once we reach the tower?”
“Yes. I saw it myself.”
I knew perfectly well how reckless this plan was — full of holes, with too many unknowns.
And he had no real reason to risk his life for me.
Yet he didn’t complain.
He simply accepted my impossible plan and prepared to follow it — as though it were an order he’d been waiting his whole life to obey.
