Slow Prison Life Chapter 12

n.o.blewoman Acquires the Prison Guard

Because her shoulders would become stiff if she just read all day, Rachel spends her time doing other things as well such as embroidery and the like.

Rachel had been sewing through a handkerchief for a while now, and after setting her needle down, she took a look at the embroidered image she had done.
Looking at the framed flowers she had created, she murmured to herself,

“Hmm……it's too quiet.”

Her thoughts weren't about embroidery.

One month ago, in other words, from the time that Rachel became aware of the Prince's conspiracy to abandon the engagement.
But as she made her preparations, Rachel didn't move to block them……..because it seemed interesting.

The Blockhead Prince and his lackey followers, she wanted to see how far they'd go.
If they were to throw her into prison, then she could continue to skip her Queen's education until the King returns and rejects the engagement abandonment.
The trouble she couldn't cause herself that was likely to now occur left her feeling thrilled.

Though she decided to ride along with the Prince's conspiracy on that line of thinking……. the Prince's base had turned out shallower than she had thought. Even though a week had already pa.s.sed, he hadn't come up with any ideas other than striking at her through force.

“Like this, I feel embarra.s.sed going to such great lengths……..it's boring.”

The Prince would use a variety of dirty tricks to hara.s.s her, and she would enthusiastically repel them as they came.
As she raised her cup to take a drink, Rachel realized that her tea had gone cold, but even cold the refres.h.i.+ng fragrance of the luxury tea leaves still lingered and tickled the nose.
Rachel blankly stared into the air for a while before laughing with a smile.

“That's right. This wait and see att.i.tude is unlike me. Until now I thought I'd just wait for the Prince to make his move…….un, let's robustly move forward from now on.”

Because a jailbreak would most likely occur in the middle of the night, prison patrols are being performed well into the night.

“Well, the palace's prison only has the Lady inside it right now……….I really don't think there's going to be a jailbreak…….”

Although, work was work.
The prison guard's footsteps echoed as he descended the stone steps, and he saw the Duke's daughter sitting on the floor with the lights dimmed. It seems that she was still awake. Leaning against her cus.h.i.+on, she was looking up at the sky through the small window.

“What are you doing?”

Asking for purely skeptical doubts, a beautiful woman illuminated by the moon's light responded.

“My, Mr. prison guard. Good evening…….I can see the moon right now, so I thought I'd do a little moon-viewing.”

As she spoke Rachel held up a gla.s.s cup pinched between her fingertips. The scent wafting out of the gla.s.s caused the prison guard to make a strange face.

“Oi oi, should a Duke's daughter be having whiskey……….”

Whiskey was a powerful type of alcohol. And it was clear through the shot gla.s.s that she was drinking it straight. A n.o.bleman might drink something like that every once in a while, but it was basically a type of liquor for laborers and people irrelevant to society at large.

“Oh, you must like it quite a bit if you can understand what it is simply by the fragrance. Would you like one?”
“You, you're not already drunk…….um, EHHH!?”

The prison guard watched amazed as Rachel shook the bottle of good spirits in a good mood…….but he was doubly amazed to see the bottle Rachel had in her hands.

“Oi, that's not a 30 year old bottle of Saint Valentinus is it!?”
“My, so knowledgeable.”
“There's no way I could drink something like that………it'd cost two months of my salary that would.”
“I took it from my Father's cabinet, but the seal hasn't been broken which means there's quite a bit here. Yes, gla.s.s.”
“No, I'm in a position where I can't accept………no, but a 30 year old Saint Valentinus……..”
“I have snacks as well.”

The n.o.blewoman held out a tray: sliced corn beef with raisin b.u.t.ter, smoked cheese with pickles, liver paste spread on crackers……….

“Now now, we pour it to the rim………”
“Oooooooh……this, this thirty year old bottle…….!”

Bringing the bottle closer to be seen, the prison guard refused to be tempted with this legendary masterpiece of liquor mumbling to himself over and over again, “No, I can't”.

Unable to resist the charm pulling on him, the prison guard dried his cup immediately after the protruded brown bottle had filled it.

“It's a pretty good drink. Now, three drink rush.¹”

Although he had thought it to be wasteful to drink up this gem in an instant, the amber fragrant liquid was once again poured to the rim of his cup.
Two drink tuned to three drinks and eventually became four. As his tongue loosened and became used to it, Rachel would always pour him another. Finally the prison guard forgot about the job he was supposed to be doing and began drinking comfortably, but he failed to notice that Rachel had quit drinking herself halfway through.

“After all whiskey is best straight. That afterglow after it pa.s.ses down your throat leaving nothing behind.”
“You understand!? This nose can't pa.s.s that aroma by! Lady sure can drink.”
“Yes yes Mr. prison guard as well. Ah, how about some chocolate?”
“Ooooh, sorry!”

The prison guard had become completely drunk, and Rachel's sweet words poured into him as easily as the alcohol he had been drinking. Plenty of alcohol had turned into a feast, a good deal of fun, and an unopened one was given as a souvenir……….

“Nooo, let me tell you Lady, I understood our talk quite well.”
“Ufufufu, even though I haven't done anything bad at all. But Elliott is always going on about “Me Me Me”. Even though I try to make people understand me, I can't……..I hate it.”
“I know, I get iiiiiiiiiiit. Ish all thanksh to the Prince's c.r.a.p head. Un, Lady isn't bad!”

With memories of a fun drinking party, a level of trust had been successfully coaxed out as any lingering suspicions were crushed. Rachel continued to whisper sweet-sounding input that became embedded in the prison guard's brain.
By the time she was done, the prison guard's alcohol muddied thinking abilities would have {Prince = foolish and evil, Rachel = pitiable and good} seared into his subconscious thoughts.

“Night has gradually been coming to an end I suppose. Please do be careful on your way home. And don't drop your long-awaited whiskey?”
“Oooooh, leave it to me! Ah, thas right! To makes talking outside the castle easier, Lady schouldn't talk bout our fun.”
“Yes, I understand that. And if you'd please drop off any letters or allow me regular visits without anyone else knowing.”
“Hu can trush me. Yosh, I'll manage somehow!”
“Thank you so much.”

The prison guard slowly walked up the stairs with staggered steps, heading straight home while carrying his important souvenir.
And then from the front chamber of the dungeon where the light couldn't touch, a woman rose up from the shadows and took a step into the light.

“My Lady, we could manage even without such a petty official. Most things for us…….”

Rachel made a small smile as she pulled out her bedding and prepared her cus.h.i.+ons.

“We'll do the same for the guards at the castle gate. It's important that we have the courtiers of the castle hold my shoulder over the Prince's. Those who share my thinking especially, we will require their sympathy and cooperation in order to best abuse Elliott.”
“Hah, as you say, so shall it be. As for the matter of the mansion that we discussed the other day, I shall make the preparations.”
“Thanks.”

With her servant once again melting into the darkness, Rachel pulled herself underneath her blanket and turned off the light.

1. It's a proverb that spans languages. What it means is, “Anybody who shows up late to the party has to chug!”