I worked on her back, pushing more mana and stamina into the effort, driving my focus deeper into the muscle layers beneath the surface.
"I have another question. What is the dungeon like from the inside? Is it actually filled with dangerous monsters, treasures, and strange places the deeper you go?"
"Yes. It is like the dungeon contains an entirely different world within itself."
"Do you go in with your own party or with your soldiers?"
She explained the structure. The royal family operated a special platoon that functioned separately from the guild, the magic tower, and all other independent bodies. It was divided into four units: the Abyssal Mapping Corps, which handled dungeon surveys, hazard cataloging, and monster logs; the Abyssal Relic Wardens, responsible for artifact retrieval and ancient relic extraction; the Abyssal Rescue Blades, deployed for diver extractions and trapped team recovery; and the Abyssal Vanguard Elite, tasked with full clears, boss hunts, and major threat neutralization. When the king or queen went on an expedition, a team assembled around them to push new floors and bring down boss monsters.
"I have my own party," she said. "They are all quite different from each other, each one with their own ambitions and reasons for being there."
"Do those ambitions depend on whether you become queen or not?"
"I see where you are going with that." A pause. "I only let someone into my party if they are honest about what they want. Even then, only if they are genuinely good people and worth traveling and fighting alongside. For most of them, it is my strength that is useful to them, not my title."
I asked her to turn over and shifted my position.
"Have you thought about asking them for help with what is happening now?"
She was quiet for a moment. "It has been years since they joined me. But my body kept failing and I was not able to do what I should have been doing for them."
"Despite that, they are still with you. Try asking for help for once. Politics cannot be won with brute strength alone. The more support you can gather, the better positioned you are."
"I will think about it."
I worked through her hands, arms, and shoulders. She had a towel pulled across her chest. Her eyes kept drifting to the bracelet on my wrist.
"Why are you not more concerned about that?" she said. "Once the owner activates it, you become a puppet. No will of your own. Every order followed without question."
"Can it be removed by anyone?"
"No. Anyone can put it on you, but only the person who originally imbued it with mana can take it off."
"If I show you something, you may doubt me more than you already do."
"What do you mean? I promise to trust you."
I slid the bracelet off my wrist, then put it back on.
"I am not reckless enough to walk into a dangerous situation without accounting for it first."
She took my hand and sat up slightly. "But it still carries mana."
I turned my face away from her. "Call it one of my many skills."
She understood why I had looked away and quickly pulled the towel back up before lying down again.
I completed the rest of the session. She was visibly unsettled by what she had seen but she did not push for an explanation.
"Have Kierra cast a healing spell when you are ready. After that, you are done."
–-_—
I had not been able to speak to Maren since that night. I saw her moving through the mansion, but every time I got close enough to approach she would disappear before I could reach her.
Today was different. She had no choice but to walk with me to the church, where I would finally meet whoever was behind the bracelet and find out what they actually wanted.
The real problem was identifying the true owner. I would have to give a convincing enough performance to avoid raising suspicion. I was already regretting disabling the bracelet before I understood the full picture.
Since we left the mansion, Maren had not said a word. She walked with a deliberate gap between us, eyes forward.
I needed information before we reached the church.
"Maren, you have been avoiding me since that night. Can you not talk to me the way you used to?"
I closed the distance between us and took her hand.
She tried to pull away. I held on and kept walking. After a moment she stopped resisting and fell into step beside me.
"I will only ask you one thing," I said. "Answer it honestly and I might forgive what you did. Just tell me whose orders you follow."
We reached the church. I was stepping toward the entrance when she pulled me back.
She met my eyes, her voice dropping low. "I only receive orders from here. The bracelet came through Duskmere smugglers. I know how to disable it. But to activate the binding, the owner must touch the band and speak the incantation directly: Vinculum aeternum, meus servus."
I smiled and touched the top of her head once. "If you trust me just this once, I will help you get out of whatever has its hold on you."
Something lit up in her face for a moment. Then she pulled it back, composed herself, and walked into the church.
Father Elias stood at the chapel threshold, hands clasped behind his back. His sharp eyes tracked us from the moment we entered. He had clearly been expecting us.
"Blessings upon you, Maren," he said warmly. "Sister Maria mentioned you had visited while I was away tending the border shrines. Come in. Gods light your path."
We moved toward the man seated on one of the benches. He looked to be in his late twenties, dressed in a butler's uniform, dark and well-fitted, the kind that spoke of a household with money and expectations. His posture was relaxed in the way that people are relaxed when they are used to being the most dangerous person in the room.
"Brother," Maren said, "this is the one I brought. He can move near her without drawing attention."
He looked me over slowly, measured, then turned back to Maren without a word to me.
"Who is this?" he said.
"He has access to her inner circle. He can get close without raising suspicion."
The man raised his hand and struck her hard across the face.
She did not react. She lowered her head and stayed still.
Do not move. Not yet.
"I told you to bring one of her closest companions, not some nobody. You useless trash."
"Now, now." The pastor's voice came from behind us, unhurried and calm. "Why are you hitting the poor girl, Joseph?"