By the grace of the heavens, I find the strength to put quill to parchment this night, though my heart is burdened with a weight most grievous. The arrival of the three strangers—Rudeus, Rory, and Rimuru—has brought both light and shadow into my constrained existence. Their peculiarities intrigue me, yet their presence stirs a tempest within the court.

The one called Rimuru possesses an air of serenity that belies his enigmatic nature. Though his demeanor is calm and measured, I perceive a sorrow within him, as though he carries the weight of many lifetimes upon his shoulders. There is a wisdom to his words, though he speaks sparingly, and his piercing gaze seems to see beyond the veil of appearances.

Rory, the warrior-maiden, is a force unto herself. Her laughter is like the clash of swords—sharp and resonant, commanding attention wherever it falls. Yet beneath her bold exterior lies a cunning mind and a heart that beats with fervent loyalty. She speaks in riddles at times, her words dripping with playful mischief, but I cannot help but feel she discerns the truth of our plight better than most.

And then there is Rudeus, whose antics provoke both mirth and exasperation. His manners are unrefined, his tongue loose with jests that would scandalize the most forgiving of courtiers. Yet, beneath his blundering exterior, there lies a sincerity that cannot be feigned. He is, perhaps, the most human among them—a soul unguarded, for better or worse.

Oh, what peril they have unknowingly stepped into! My father, the king, smiles upon them with what seems like benevolence, but I know the darkness that lurks behind his eyes. The crown he wears is not merely a symbol of rule but a shackle forged in deceit.

Should this parchment ever be discovered, my life may be forfeit, yet I must commit the truth to words, lest it be lost forever: The kingdom’s prosperity is a lie, purchased not with diplomacy or valor, but with the suffering of the voiceless. Beneath the castle, in the dungeons that no noble dares to tread, lies a terrible secret—a pit where prisoners vanish, their fates known only to my father, my mother and their most loyal guards.

The royal army too, is no bastion of honor. It is said to defend the kingdom, but in truth, it exists to enforce the will of the throne, to silence dissent, and to crush those who would speak against the crown. And now, my father seeks to bind these newcomers to his service, to make them instruments of his machinations.

I dare not speak these truths aloud, not even to the trio who saved me. Yet my heart aches, for I see in their eyes the glimmer of hope—the kind of hope that this kingdom has long forgotten. If they are to survive, they must tread carefully. My father is a serpent in kingly robes, and his venom spares no one.

Tonight, I watched them at the feast, their laughter and camaraderie a stark contrast to the suffocating pretense of the court. For a fleeting moment, I allowed myself to imagine a life beyond these walls, a life where I might be free of the chains that bind me to this throne.

But such thoughts are folly. My duty is to my people, even if it means enduring the cruelty of my father’s rule. Yet, I cannot help but wonder—could these strangers, with their strange ways and unyielding spirit, be the spark that ignites the flames of change?

The hour grows late, and my candle wanes. May the heaven's Grace grant me the courage to do what is right, even if it means defying the ones I call mother, father. And may the trio find their way through the treacherous labyrinth of this court without succumbing to its shadows.

May mercy guide us all to our own redemption.