Chapter Nine:I Came,I Saved,I Got Arrested

If there was an award for the most dramatic, needlessly shiny, aggressively royal palace, the one Shizuku was currently being dragged toward would've won by a landslide. The capital city surrounding it was pure fantasy novel core: cobblestone streets winding through bustling markets, flower boxes hanging from second-story windows, and towers topped with banners so oversized they probably had their own wind tax. Every corner boasted vendors selling glimmering trinkets, overripe fruits, or suspicious potions in oddly shaped vials. Children dashed between carriages, and somewhere, a bard was singing a slightly off-key ballad about a dragon who fell in love with a tax collector. The palace itself? Straight-up boss level material. Marble steps, golden spires, and stained glass windows that probably cost more than her entire Tokyo apartment complex. A team of gardeners trimmed hedges shaped like lions. Actual lions.

Shizuku, arms bound and sandwiched between two guards who seemed terrified of her breathing too hard, tilted her head back to look at the massive doors ahead and muttered, "Wow. Cinderella called. She wants her house back." Her comment earned her a side glance from one knight. She grinned. "What? Too soon?"

The doors creaked open with the kind of drama usually reserved for cutscenes. Inside, the throne room looked like someone had given a blank check to a fantasy-loving interior designer with no sense of restraint. Velvet carpets. Chandeliers the size of small planets. Gold-trimmed pillars. Nobles in impractical outfits whispered behind lacy fans, giving her the same wide-eyed horror people usually reserved for ghosts or tax collectors.

Front and center sat the King and Queen on matching thrones, all regal posture and perfectly arched brows. And of course, standing beside them—because fate clearly had a sense of irony—was him. The prince she'd saved from being monster meat. Great. Saved a royal. Got tied up. Definitely the opposite of how that's supposed to go.

"State your name, creature," the King boomed, voice echoing through the chamber.

Shizuku smiled sweetly. "Shizuku Kuran. Species: human. Subclass: sarcastic fire hazard. Occupation: very confused."

A ripple of murmurs swept through the nobles. The Queen narrowed her eyes. "And where do you hail from, Shizuku Kuran?"

"Tokyo. It's a city. In Japan. On Earth," she replied brightly, as if that cleared everything up.

Blank stares. One noble dropped their goblet. "I see. She's mad," someone whispered. "Or possessed," muttered another.

The prince stepped forward. "You wield power unlike anything known in this land. Fire with no flint, no torch… Explain yourself."

"Oh, that?" Shizuku waved one hand casually. "Yeah, that's just fire magic. It's kinda my specialty. Back home, it's standard OP isekai starter kit stuff."

Silence.

"'Isekai'?" the King asked, the word foreign and suspicious on his tongue.

"You know, transported to another world? Usually after getting hit by a truck or choking on convenience store snacks? Honestly, I got the deluxe package—death once, magical relocation included. Still no cookies."

A noblewoman fainted. The Queen leaned toward her husband. "She may be cursed."

The King turned to the guards. "Summon the High Priest. We shall cleanse this girl of whatever demon lies within her."

Shizuku's expression flatlined. "Wait. Cleanse? What is this, a boss raid? I didn't agree to any temple side quests—"

Too late. Incense filled the air. A robed priest appeared with holy water, a staff, and far too much confidence. He began chanting, waving his arms like he was conducting a choir of ghosts. Then came the sprinkling. And the slapping. And more chanting. Shizuku stood there, dripping and unimpressed.

"Is this supposed to do something?" she asked. "Because right now I feel like a wet cat in a scented candle aisle."

The priest tried harder. He chanted louder. The holy water sizzled slightly when it hit her arm. A few people gasped. One screamed. Shizuku just sighed and shouted, "By the power of Moon Prism Fireblast, I banish thee!"

The priest screamed and fell over backward. The Queen shrieked. A knight dropped his sword. The King stood, face pale.

"She's too far gone," the priest wheezed. "The demon mocks the divine!"

"Okay, first of all," Shizuku snapped, "I'm not a demon. I'm just mildly unhinged, magically overqualified, and extremely low on sugar."

With half the court now in panic mode and the exorcism having gone down in flames—literally, since her cuffs had started smoldering—the prince stepped forward again.

"She is clearly unstable and potentially dangerous. I recommend she be placed in the palace dungeons until further decisions can be made."

"Oh wow," Shizuku said dryly. "Throw the mysterious girl in the dungeon. Real original. What's next, a cursed prophecy? A tragic backstory reveal? A talking animal sidekick?"

No one responded.

"Fine. But if I find rats down there, I'm charging rent."

She was dragged out again, not quite resisting, but not making it easy either. One of the knights tried to bind her arms again, but the ropes smoked faintly and he backed off like she'd bitten him.

Eventually, they shoved her into a dungeon cell that was suspiciously well-lit and surprisingly clean. The door slammed shut behind her.

"Well," she said to the flickering torch on the wall. "That went great."

She flopped onto the hay-stuffed cot with a dramatic groan and stared at the ceiling.

"I saved a prince, got called a demon, was baptized in lavender-scented holy water, and now I'm locked up for being inconvenient. If I don't get sweets soon, I'm setting this entire palace on fire."

She paused. "Maybe just the guest wing. I'm not unreasonable."

For a while, she lay there, counting ceiling cobwebs and muttering sarcastic monologues to herself. The torch flickered in rhythm, like it understood her frustration.

Somewhere above, boots clicked against marble—nobles pacing, servants running, guards whispering her name like it was a slur.

"I bet the prince is up there right now," she said aloud, "pacing around in his embroidered tunic, all broody and princely, thinking, 'Who is this strange, beautiful, dangerous girl?' And the answer is: me. I'm the sugar-deprived menace who saved your life."

She kicked the wall lightly with her boot.

"Honestly, if they just handed me a cookie and asked nicely, I'd burn monsters all day. But nooo. Gotta imprison the fire girl."

The torch crackled.

"Thanks, torch. You get me."

She sat up and stretched, her stomach growling dramatically like it wanted its own dramatic soundtrack.

"If no one feeds me by morning, I'm escaping. I'll burn through this door and eat my way through the palace kitchens. I will not be stopped. The sugar revolution begins now."

And with that whispered battle cry, Shizuku flopped dramatically back onto the cot and drifted into a sugar-deprived, prison-themed nap.

To be continued...