Lord Summoner's Freedom Philosophy: Grimoire of Love
Chapter 385: The Briarwood Girl (2)

Chapter 385: The Briarwood Girl (2)

Hektor’s mocking laughter followed me down the corridor. "Oh, you poor, stupid girl. I already have."

The days that followed blurred together in a haze of darkness and despair. The dungeon was damp and cold, the meager food barely enough to keep me alive. I lost track of time, my only company the occasional skittering of rats and the distant echoes of other prisoners.

I replayed every moment in my mind, trying to understand where I had gone wrong. Had I been too trusting? Too naive? The idealism that had driven me seemed like a childish fantasy now, crushed under the weight of Hektor’s cruelty and my own powerlessness.

I couldn’t help but mutter under my breath as I sat in the dank, miserable cell that had become my home. "That stupid old fart, Hektor! I swear, if I get my hands on him, I’ll wring his greasy neck! And his son, that creepy, slimy pervert—thinking he can swoon girls with those leering eyes of his. Ugh, he gives me chills just thinking about it!"

My voice echoed off the stone walls, a small act of defiance against the silence that usually enveloped me. I don’t know how long I’d been down here—days, weeks, maybe even months had blurred together in a haze of darkness and despair. But I refused to let them break my spirit. I am Arielle Briarwood, and I’ve faced worse than this... well, maybe not worse, but I’ve certainly faced my fair share of challenges.

Just when I had almost given up hope, when the darkness threatened to consume me entirely, everything changed. The sound of commotion above broke through my stupor – shouts, the clash of steel, and then... silence.

Then followed.

With the sound of steps.

The sound of footsteps pulled me from my thoughts. I tensed, ready for another round of taunting from the guards or maybe even worse treatment. But the figure that appeared before my cell was unfamiliar—a young man with an air of authority about him, accompanied by a woman who looked to be some kind of servant or assistant.

The man leaned against the door of my cell, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Looks like you’ve had quite a bit to say about your captors."

I looked up sharply, my eyes narrowing as I tried to make out his features in the dim light. "Who are you? Another one of Hektor’s goons? Or maybe you’re just here to enjoy the show, huh?"

The woman with him took a step forward, her eyes flashing dangerously. "Careful with your words. We’re not here to harm you."

I snorted, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice. "Yeah, sure. That’s what they all say. Next thing I know, I’m getting tossed back in here with even fewer scraps than before."

To my surprise, the man held up a hand, signaling his companion to stand down. He reached into a satchel and tossed a bundle of clothes through the bars. "Here. You look like you could use something clean."

I blinked, taken aback by the gesture. I stared at the bundle for a moment before reluctantly picking it up. "What’s this supposed to be?"

"Clothes," he said simply, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Thought you might want to look a little less like you’ve been living in a dungeon." He tilted his head, looking around the dreary cell. "Which, I suppose, you have."

I felt my lips twitch, almost forming a smile despite myself. I muttered a grudging thanks as I took the clothes and turned my back to change. The fabric felt impossibly soft against my skin after weeks of wearing the same filthy rags. When I turned back to face them, I made sure to keep my chin high and my shoulders back. I might be a prisoner, but I still had my pride.

"Thanks," I muttered, though I kept my tone guarded. "But if this is some kind of trick, I’ll bite your hand off."

The man smiled, unfazed by my threat. "No tricks. Here, eat something." He handed me a small wrapped package, and my eyes widened at the sight of dried meat and bread inside. Without hesitation, I snatched it from his hand and tore into it like a starving wolf.

As I devoured the food, I could feel their eyes on me. The woman leaned over to the man, whispering something I couldn’t quite catch. I didn’t care—this was the first real food I’d had in what felt like forever, and I wasn’t about to let their stares stop me from savoring every bite.

After finishing, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and looked up at them. The anger that had been fueling me earlier was fading, replaced by a weary curiosity. I cleared my throat, my gaze shifting between the two of them.

"Name’s Arielle. Arielle Briarwood," I said, my voice less abrasive than before. "I suppose I should thank you for the food and clothes... but who are you two, really? And why are you helping me?"

The man stepped closer, his expression softening. "I’m Lyan, and this is Althea, my headmaid. We’re not with Hektor. In fact, we’re here to clean up the mess he left behind."

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. "Clean up the mess? What do you mean by that?"

Lyan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Hektor’s no longer in power. Let’s just say he’s... been dealt with. And now we’re trying to help the people he’s wronged, to bring some order back to this place."

I stared at him for a long moment, trying to gauge the truth of his words. Eventually, I nodded, a faint smile tugging at my lips. "Well, that’s good news, at least. That bastard deserved worse than whatever he got."

Althea tilted her head, curiosity in her eyes. "You mentioned you were an outcast... and something about being Hektor’s secretary? Care to elaborate?"

I let out a bitter laugh, leaning back against the wall as memories flooded back. "Yeah, I suppose I owe you that much. I come from a family of knights—the Briarwoods. They’re well-known for their service to the crown, but... I was always the odd one out. I wasn’t interested in fighting or wielding a sword. My talents were more suited to administration, to numbers and strategy. My family didn’t see much value in that. They wanted warriors, not... paper pushers."

I paused, my gaze dropping to the floor as I remembered the disappointment in my mother’s eyes. "So, I left. Made my own way, and eventually ended up here. Hektor hired me as his secretary, and at first, I thought I’d finally found a place where I could be useful. But it didn’t take long for me to see how corrupt everything was. The officials, the guards... they were all in on it. Lining their pockets while the people starved."

My voice grew hard, anger flashing through me once again. "I couldn’t just sit by and watch, so I started keeping records. Documenting every bribe, every misuse of funds. I even tried to confront Hektor, told him that if he kept this up, he’d drive the city into the ground—that he was already going bankrupt."

I let out a humorless chuckle, shaking my head. "Turns out, he didn’t appreciate that. Next thing I knew, I was down here, locked away so I couldn’t cause any more trouble."

Lyan listened intently, his eyes never leaving mine. There was something in his gaze—respect, maybe?—that made me feel seen for the first time in a long while.

Althea spoke up, her tone softer now. "You must have known what would happen if you confronted him. Why did you do it?"

I met her eyes, allowing a hint of vulnerability to show through my tough exterior. "Because it was the right thing to do. Someone had to speak up. If not me, then who? I couldn’t just turn a blind eye."

A moment of silence fell over us, and I watched as Lyan and Althea exchanged a look. There was something unspoken passing between them, but I couldn’t quite decipher it. Finally, Lyan turned back to me, his expression earnest.

"Arielle Briarwood," he said, his voice carrying a weight that seemed beyond his years. "I’ve come to offer you a choice."

He explained quickly—Hektor had been deposed, his corruption exposed. But the region was in chaos, needing strong and honest leadership to rebuild.

"I’ve heard of your skills, your integrity," Lyan continued. "I need someone I can trust to help set things right. Will you join me?"

I stared at him, scarcely able to believe what I was hearing. After everything that had happened, after my failure and imprisonment, someone still believed in me? It seemed too good to be true.

"Why me?" I croaked, my voice hoarse from disuse. "How can you trust me after I couldn’t stop Hektor?"

Lyan’s eyes softened. "Because you tried," he said simply. "When it would have been easier to look the other way, to profit from the corruption, you chose to stand up for what was right. That’s exactly the kind of person I need by my side."

I felt tears welling up in my eyes, a mix of relief, gratitude, and lingering fear. Could I really do this? Could I trust again, after everything that had happened?

But as I looked at Lyan, I saw something in his eyes that I hadn’t seen in a long time—genuine kindness, and a determination that matched my own forgotten idealism. In that moment, I made my choice.

"Yes," I whispered, then cleared my throat and spoke more firmly. "Yes, I’ll help you."

Lyan’s face broke into a wide smile, and he reached out to help me to my feet. As I stood on shaky legs, a sudden realization hit me.

"Wait," I said, my eyes widening. "You’re the new lord!?"

Lyan’s laughter echoed through the dungeon, a sound of genuine warmth that chased away the last of the shadows. "I suppose I am," he said, a hint of wonder in his voice. "But I can’t do this alone. Are you ready to help me make things right, Arielle?"

As I stepped out of my cell, leaving behind the darkness and despair, I felt a spark of hope rekindling in my chest. This was my second chance, an opportunity to use my skills for the good I had always dreamed of. Whatever challenges lay ahead, I was ready to face them.

"I’m ready," I said, my voice growing stronger with each word. "Let’s build something better, together."

And with that, we ascended from the dungeon, stepping into a future bright with possibility and the promise of change. For the first time in a long while, I felt like I was exactly where I needed to be.