Inside the dim dungeon of the Darklord Citadel.

"Ugh... unfamiliar ceiling..."

Regaining consciousness from a dazed state, the golden-haired girl pushed aside the floral-patterned blanket. She sat up from the soft single bed, her bare feet touching the solid stone floor.

The magic crystal lamp on the bedside table glowed steadily. Sky-blue painted walls felt refreshing. A finely crafted leather chair stood elegant nearby. A small door led to a private bathroom with a bathtub.

"Where am I..."

Through the high window, endless night stretched outside, rain falling steadily.

"I don’t recall renting such a luxury room at any inn..."

The golden-haired girl clutched her forehead, a headache throbbing.

"...Ugh... I remember now..."

She’d been knocked out by that evil Dragonmaid during the interview—

"No—wait... so this place now... is a prison cell?!"

Painful memories surged. Her expression twisted. Her face turned deathly pale. She bit her lip hard, finally staring at the cell bars.

Had she been too careless? To stumble like this...

"Is anyone there? I’m innocent! You’ve got the wrong person—let me out! Damn it..."

Gripping the bars, she peered out. Her voice echoed through the hall. From a shadowy corner, a black-robed wolfman emerged.

"Heh... I never thought the ever-arrogant Princess Gryette would see a day like this."

The figure removed his hood. It was one of the wolfman leaders imprisoned after the Demonlord exposed his plot against Lilith.

Princess Gryette’s eyes lit up at the sight.

"...I was careless—never mind that. Get me out now!"

"The Church’s mission prioritizes Demonkind intelligence. Don’t you recall, Princess?"

"I have it! But... no decryption method, and the city gates are locked—your failure!"

"I got you through the gates. Getting caught is your fault. How is that my failure?"

The black-robed man sneered.

"I’ll rescue you. Hand over the documents first."

"..."

Gryette fell silent a moment.

"Get me out first. Then I’ll give them."

"Then no choice, heh..."

He shook his head regretfully.

"Princess Gryette must stay longer—I hear the new Dragonmaid warden looks innocent but handles prisoners ruthlessly."

Gryette shuddered slightly. Her breath quickened. Her brow furrowed tight.

"Even the Champion of the Night, that stubborn top Hero, was corrupted within two days under her. With her hellish methods, no prisoner resists long—"

"How long can a pure, pampered beauty like you last?"

"I—I order you! Get me out! I won’t stay here—!"

"Hand over the intelligence first."

Gryette clenched her teeth.

"I won’t trust my only hope... to a Demonkind traitor colluding with the Church."

Such turncoats were untrustworthy. Besides... handing over the intel meant losing all value. Would he keep his promise then? Doubtful.

As the Holy Kingdom’s second Princess, she knew this well.

"Don’t phrase it harshly. ‘Colluding’? I’m just doing business. Who refuses gold?"

The wolfman spoke proudly.

Gryette frowned. "Get me out. Then I’ll reveal the documents’ location—no other way."

"Oh? Then rely on your own skills. Reminder: these bars and walls are rune-reinforced. Don’t waste effort breaking out."

"Damn it! Where are you going?! Release me!"

Ignoring her cries, he vanished into shadows. Gryette sat alone on the bed, staring blankly.

Indeed... no Demonkind could be trusted!

She thought bitterly, fists clenched, pounding her thighs. After a long pause, she sighed softly.

Things shouldn’t have turned out this way...

As Princess Gryette F. Lazarus of the Holy Kingdom, she should’ve enjoyed a luxurious life in the Imperial Capital palace. Not risk death as a spy in this demon den.

All for that damned Church mission...

For the heir-selection task, other royals got easy options: diplomatic talks, noble alliances, even fundraising. Only the hardest—"infiltrate Demonkind for intel or assassinations"—landed on her.

She’d clashed with the Church’s dominance. So they gave her the deadliest task. Hard not to suspect foul play.

She had the intel... but trapped here, her only contact refused help. Now, escape depended on her own wits...

...

...

"Creak—"

The cell door opened again.

In walked Lilith—the demon examiner Gryette hated—and her loyal lackey Alquett.

Before Lilith spoke, Gryette snorted coldly.

"Is this how Demon City treats applicants? Leading questions, harassment, jailing innocents... Hmph. I misjudged you."

Lilith stared in surprise. "Oh?"

How had this quiet woman turned so sharp-tongued so fast?

"Miss Spy, you know your guilt best."

"...I’m not a spy. Wrong person."

Lilith studied her through the bars. Gryette looked indignant, arms crossed, head held high—stubborn denial clear.

"I see. Gentle persuasion it is, then~"

Lilith cleared her throat. Alquett brought a table and chair before the cell. She sat, crossed her legs, and pulled out Doros’s warden tip sheet.

"Ahem... Miss Lazarus, formal reintroduction—welcome to Cell Block 0721, Darklord Citadel high-security zone. I’m Warden Lilith. This is Assistant Alquett."

She read aloud mechanically:

"Our dungeon runs on ‘confess for mercy, resist and be squeezed dry.’ We offer a homely experience for every inmate. Noble ladies or commoner heroes—all find their paradise here. Silence is your right. But words become evidence—"

"Hmph... small fry. Show me your tricks. Bring them all!"

Gryette narrowed her eyes, head high, arms crossed—a fearless, arrogant pose.

Seeing her unyielding stance, Lilith sighed.

"Sigh. Every new prisoner starts stubborn. But even the hardest mouth softens with a kiss. Now you’re ours—we’ll make you cooperate."

Lilith stood, walking to the cell door.

"You... what are you doing!"

Panic edged Gryette’s voice. She clutched her chest, stumbling back until her spine hit the cold stone wall.