A captive prince. A knight who never speaks. Two years of silence—until one night, everything begins to change.
Eighteen-year-old Lion Cardina, the first prince of the fallen Kingdom of Cardina, has spent two years imprisoned in the Iron Crown Palace of the Grandveld Empire. Stripped of his kingdom, his family, and his freedom, he clings to his mother's final words—*"Live"*—and watches the moon through iron bars, believing himself utterly alone.
Kai Wolfhardt, his silent watcher, arrives each
The Fallen Prince and the Silent Knight - The Captive Prince and the Silent Knight
Beyond the iron bars, a full moon floated in the sky.
Lion Cardina stood at the window, bathed in its pale light, gazing fixedly at the round moon. From the cold stone floor, a chill crept up through the soles of his feet. His thin-soled shoes could barely keep the cold at bay.
This was Granzel, capital of the Grandveld Empire. At its heart towered the Iron Crown Palace—a massive seven-tiered structure built of black-iron stone. Lion was confined on the third level, in what was called the "Guest Wing." Despite the name, the windows were sealed with thick iron bars, and the heavy door could only be opened from the outside. The furnishings were complete: a soft bed, a writing desk, a bookshelf holding several volumes. But it was a prison all the same. Calling a captive a "guest" was merely the ruler's way of saving face—a room meant to make an example of him.
Lion was the master of that room.
He was eighteen. His unkempt black hair had grown a little long, covering the nape of his pale neck. His deep emerald eyes looked all the larger within his gaunt cheeks. The fine white shirt and gray trousers he wore ill-suited a captive—they were a sign that he was no ordinary prisoner. The first prince of the fallen Kingdom of Cardina. That was the truth of the boy named Lion Cardina.
His fingers drifted unconsciously to the pendant at his chest. A small silver ornament inherited from his mother, engraved with the crest of the spirits. As he gripped it, the cold metal slowly warmed to his palm.
"...Live."
He didn't speak aloud—only moved his lips.
The day he'd been brought here two years ago was etched in Lion's memory as vividly as yesterday.
The Kingdom of Cardina, in the west, was an ancient land sustained by rich mineral resources and spirit worship. Its capital, Vermina, had been built atop a mine, with veins of magical energy called spirit-lines running beneath the earth. The people made contracts with spirits, borrowing their power through song and dance—"spirit arts" were a part of everyday life. Lion's father, the Spirit-Contract King, had also been a king who inherited the power of the spirits.
And all of it had ended in a single night.
Verdan Calendar, year 847. Grandveld's forces crossed the Verdan Corridor and invaded. Traitors within Cardina opened the castle gates, and the Iron Crown Knights poured in like an avalanche. Fire and screams. The collapsing palace. His father and mother remained in the throne room to protect the people who could not escape—and they never returned.
Only his mother's last words were seared into Lion's ears.
*Live. You, at least, must live.*
It was a gentle voice. On the verge of tears, and yet somehow strong.
Clinging to those words alone, Lion had survived two years here.
Outside the window, from the courtyard, he could hear lively voices despite the hour. A banquet for those who served the Iron Crown Palace, perhaps. Laughter, the clink of cups, faint music. All of it was happening just on the other side of a single set of iron bars—and yet to Lion it felt like a world forever beyond his reach.
Only he was locked away here.
Beneath the moonlight, that fact pierced his chest with a sharpness all its own.
Lion exhaled deeply. His white breath dissolved into the cold air.
—That was when it happened.
From down the corridor came the sound of steady footsteps.
The hard click of leather soles striking stone. An unwavering, measured pace. Lion could tell those footsteps apart from any other. He had heard them nearly every day for two years.
The footsteps stopped in front of Lion's door.
The sound of a heavy key turning. The bolt, drawn from outside, groaned low. And then the door swung slowly open.
Standing there with the corridor's light behind him was a young knight.
Kai Wolfhardt.
A low-ranking knight of the Grandveld Iron Crown Knights, and Lion's watcher. His short-cropped silver hair fell carelessly across his brow, and his sharp blue-gray eyes swept quickly across the room. He stood a hundred and eighty-two centimeters tall. His frame, clad in the black-iron uniform of the knight order, suggested a lean, supple strength with no wasted flesh.
He looked at Lion.
But he said nothing.
Kai was always like this. When he entered, he first checked the room in silence. The window bars, the floor, the ceiling, behind the bookshelf. Then he set the tray he'd brought on the desk. Today it was steaming soup, freshly baked bread, and an herbal tea in a small ceramic cup.
Lion stood by the wall, watching the whole sequence without a word.
It hadn't always been this way.
In the beginning, things were different.
Every time Kai entered the room, Lion's body went rigid. A knight of the enemy nation. The one who watched him. The fear of not knowing what might be done to him had wrapped around Lion's whole body—he'd still been so young then.
But Kai had never been rough.
He had hardly ever even come close. He would set down what was needed and leave in silence. That was all. Sometimes, if Lion was shivering from the cold, a thick blanket would appear on the desk the next day. If Lion lost his appetite and left his food, an herbal tea that seemed gentle on the stomach would be added the following day.
Perhaps it was orders.
The natural measure to keep a surveillance target from dying.
And yet Lion couldn't help feeling there was something else behind Kai's expressionless face.
Kai set the tray on the desk, then walked to the window as always. He traced the iron bars with his fingers, confirming they were secure. Then he swept his gaze across every corner of the room. His blue-gray eyes were always calm, seeming to lack emotion entirely.
Lion stole a glance at his profile.
His silver hair caught the moonlight, glowing faintly.
*(Does this person even have a smiling face?)*
The thought came to him suddenly.
Two years of seeing each other nearly every day, and Lion had never once seen Kai smile or grow angry. He was always expressionless. As if he had left his emotions somewhere and forgotten to bring them back.
"...Um."
Before he knew it, Lion had spoken.
Kai's hand stopped dead. His blue-gray eyes turned slowly toward Lion.
His heart leaped.
In two years, they had scarcely exchanged anything resembling conversation. This was the first time Lion had ever spoken to him.
"Why do you come every day?"
His voice trembled slightly.
After a few seconds of silence, Kai answered briefly.
"Because it's my orders."
Just that one word.
Lion slowly swallowed the words.
*(Orders, huh.)*
He'd known. Kai was his watcher—this was his job. Nothing more, nothing less.
And yet.
Something deep in his chest gave a small, sharp ache.
"...I see."
Lion murmured softly and lowered his gaze.
But at the same time, he thought:
*(But we exchanged words.)*
For two years, there had been only silence. Lion rarely spoke one-sidedly, and Kai almost never said anything. And now, here, something like a "conversation" had truly been born between them.
Just two words.
And yet, just from that, something deep in his chest grew a little warm.
When he looked up, Kai had slightly averted his eyes.
It was only for an instant. The expressionless blue-gray eyes turned back to Lion right away. But Lion hadn't missed it.
*(Did he look a little flustered just now?)*
He wasn't sure.
But that was how it seemed.
Kai said nothing more and headed for the door. He stood before it, his back to Lion, and stopped moving.
Silence.
The corridor's light illuminated Kai's silver hair from behind.
"...Tomorrow."
Kai opened his mouth.
It was a low, quiet voice.
"Tomorrow, eat all of your food."
Lion's eyes widened.
It was a commanding tone. But it wasn't an order from a superior. It was a single sentence imbued with Kai's own will.
"...What?"
Before he could ask again, Kai opened the door and stepped into the corridor.
The heavy door closed with a sound.
From outside, the sound of the bolt being drawn. The sound of the key turning.
And then the steady footsteps receded into the distance.
Lion stood rooted to the spot for a while.
Deep in his chest, something was pounding fiercely.
*(Tomorrow, eat all of your food.)*
Kai's voice repeated in the back of his ears.
*(That wasn't an order.)*
Lion understood.
If it were an order from a superior, he wouldn't have said it that way. Those were words Kai himself had wanted to say to Lion.
*(Why?)*
Why would Kai, his watcher, worry about a prisoner's meals?
Lion glanced at the tray on the desk.
The steam had already vanished. A thin film was beginning to form on the surface of the soup. The bread still looked soft.
Lion slowly lowered himself into the chair.
He took a sip of soup. It had gone cold. But the broth of vegetables and meat spread gently across his tongue.
*(...It's good.)*
It had been a long time since he'd thought that.
For the past few days, he had barely eaten. The food wouldn't go down. Whenever food was before him, thoughts of his fallen kingdom and his dead parents inevitably surfaced.
But now—
*(I'll eat.)*
Kai's words pushed him forward.
Lion tore off a piece of bread, dipped it in the soup, and put it in his mouth. The bread, soaked in the cooled soup, was soft and slightly salty.
One bite, then another.
Before he knew it, Lion had drained the entire bowl.
"...I ate it all."
He murmured it to no one in particular.
Deep in his chest, warmth.
It wasn't only from the heat of the soup.
Lion leaned back in the chair and looked up at the ceiling.
*(Kai Wolfhardt.)*
Two years, and he'd known nothing. Nothing at all about him.
A taciturn, expressionless watcher knight, faithful to his orders.
That was all he had been.
But now, it was a little different.
*(Behind that expressionless face, there's something.)*
Lion was certain of it.
Kai's momentary confusion.
That gesture of averting his eyes.
And those final words.
*(I want to know more.)*
Lion gripped the pendant at his chest.
His mother's keepsake. A cold silver ornament engraved with the crest of the spirits.
*(Mother, I'm still alive here.)*
He murmured it in his heart.
From outside the window, the laughter from the courtyard drifted in again.
But the sharp loneliness from before had eased, just a little.
Lion stood and walked to the window.
Beyond the iron bars, the full moon floated in the same place as before.
—That was when it happened.
From far away, he heard multiple sets of footsteps.
Not just one or two people, either. Several soldiers were running down the corridor. The metallic clatter of armor colliding. Hurried voices.
"The remnants are on the move in the western forest, apparently!"
"The Spirit Ring? Those forest lot again!"
"Just get to your posts! Reinforce the guard!"
Shouted orders echoed through the corridor.
Lion stood at the window and listened.
*(Remnants... the Spirit Ring.)*
Lion had heard the talk—that Cardina's remnants were still resisting. A group of spirit arts users and former knights who had established a base deep in the Sylvaria Forest and were fighting the Grandveld occupation forces.
*(Everyone's still fighting.)*
Lion bit his lip.
And here he was, in a room like this, merely surviving.
He could do nothing.
He was told nothing.
And yet, in places Lion didn't know, the world was indeed moving.
The footsteps and shouting continued for a while, then faded into the distance.
Silence wrapped the room once more.
Lion looked up at the sky beyond the window.
The full moon shone with the same pale light.
*(Tomorrow.)*
Kai would come again.
*(Tomorrow, eat all of your food.)*
Lion repeated those words in his heart, over and over.
For the first time in two years.
He was a little looking forward to tomorrow.
Lion left the window and lay down on the bed.
The cold sheets touched his back.
But deep in his chest, it was still warm.
He closed his eyes.
Kai's silver hair surfaced in his mind.
The expressionless blue-gray eyes.
And that l
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