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Chapter 18
The next morning, Lucretia woke up early. Thanks to the Elnash incense she had burned all night instead of a sleep aid, the headache that had troubled her yesterday was gone.
“Good morning, Your Majesty the Empress,”
Jaina, the head maid, greeted Lucretia with a smile.
It was the first day of the monthly “Clear Sky Day.” On this day, the Emperor and Empress held audiences to hear the voices of the people.
Even for someone living in the palace, meeting the Emperor was rare—but on this day, the Empress would sit beside him for several hours.
Swallowing her anxiety and a strange tension, Lucretia walked toward the audience hall.
“The Empress enters.”
The heavy doors opened. Lucretia took a deep breath and faced forward.
The Emperor was already seated on the throne at the far end of the hall. The moment she stepped inside, his sharp red eyes slowly scanned her from head to toe.
It was her first meeting with him since their conversation at the training grounds.
Lucretia forced her stiff body to relax as she approached the throne and made a respectful bow.
“I greet Your Majesty, Emperor. May this day be full of the Earth’s blessings.”
That was all she said. Then, she sat beside the throne in the Empress’s seat, as if nothing else needed to be said.
Kirion found her calm behavior surprising. Just a week ago, she had rushed up to him in the hallway, desperate and pleading—this was a very different woman.
At that time, her words had seemed trivial and irritating to him. The scared, timid face he had seen then had suddenly been full of life. He hadn’t liked that unpredictability; Lucretia didn’t need to stand out. She was supposed to exist quietly, only noticed when her master, the Marquis, needed her.
He remembered the dark brown eyes filled with misery and tears from that day.
But now, the Empress’s eyes were completely different—calm, doll-like, and distant, as if she had let something go.
“Audience begins.”
One by one, people came in to plead their cases.
Their stories of suffering were all different, but to those who heard them every month, they felt familiar.
Kirion coldly judged which problems could be solved and which could not.
Since the central region had a poor rice harvest, most visitors were from the central provinces.
An hour into the audience, a farmer from the Saxen County entered.
“My mother and two children died of an unknown bleeding disorder. Now, my wife and I have it too. My wife has suffered all her life and lost her children. I came to save her, but the temple only says our family brought this disease upon ourselves!”
He had traveled to the capital seeking a cure for his wife, and luckily, he was able to request an audience on Clear Sky Day.
The farmer’s skin was dark and his body thin—typical of someone malnourished for a long time. Hemophilia, a hereditary disease common in the central provinces, would appear if proper nutrition was lacking. If he were fed properly for several months, he could recover.
“The Saxen County is under the 4th Diocese of the central region, which has had bishops inherited for three generations. This bishop has also been reported for mistreating the people,” one of Kirion’s aides quietly reported.
Kirion nodded. The central region, including the 4th Diocese, was infamous for corruption in the church.
It was almost time to act—but cautiously. The current bishop’s seat was the stronghold of the church, so he would not act recklessly.
At that moment, the Empress spoke for the first time, her voice soft and thin:
“A disease where the blood doesn’t clot?”
Kirion turned to look at her. Her face, pale and lifeless when she arrived, now showed deep concern.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” the farmer bowed.
“Even a small cut won’t stop bleeding. If it gets worse, death is certain. My mother and children died of excessive bleeding,” the farmer added, his voice breaking into sobs.
The Empress quietly looked at him, then asked,
“You said you have this disease too?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. I have a wound on my wrist from a tool that won’t stop bleeding, so I’ve wrapped it in a bandage.”
“May I see it with my own eyes?”
The farmer was shocked.
“Y-Your Majesty, but… my humble wound—”
“If it’s okay with you, I would like to see it myself.”
After hesitating, the farmer carefully approached her seat and unwrapped the bandage.
The wound was terrible—open and bleeding, clearly infected.
The Empress bit her lip, then looked the farmer in the eye and asked,
“May I touch it?”
“Yes?”
The farmer was stunned. Kirion and the court officials also looked at her in disbelief.
“Y-your hands are so… noble, how can you touch such dirty blood?”
The Empress spoke softly to reassure him:
“I think I can help heal your wound.”
“You… Your Majesty?”
“Yes. I have practiced healing magic. It will not take long and it will not hurt.”
The farmer hesitated, then slowly extended his arm. The Empress gently held the wound in her hands.
He gasped at touching the infected wound. Even the aide nearby could not hide his shock.
The Empress closed her eyes and whispered a short, sincere prayer. Then, a faint golden light shimmered from her hands.
She opened her eyes and smiled slightly.
“It is done.”
The farmer looked at his wrist in shock. The wound was completely healed. The dried blood remained, but no new blood was flowing.
“My… my goodness…”
The court murmured in amazement. Everyone had heard rumors of the Empress’s healing skills, but this was the first time they had seen it.
Lucretia silently felt relieved. Healing others was easier than healing herself—she didn’t have to focus on her own pain. She had trained for this many times, but this was one of her first times actually helping someone else.
“This… this is a miracle…”
The farmer muttered, unable to believe what had just happened. He had never received help from a priest before and saw this as a divine miracle.
“Thank you, Your Majesty! I cannot thank you enough!”
“This did not cure your disease—only this wound. If another part of your body is injured, this wound would still not heal.”
The farmer repeatedly thanked her. Kirion instructed that medicinal herbs be given to help with the hemophilia, so the farmer could save his wife as well. Overjoyed, he bowed repeatedly and finally left.
The Empress watched him leave, and Kirion frowned slightly.
She was a strange woman. A servant of Marquis Zepher, involved in schemes, bold enough to use incense in his room, and yet—she had just healed a stranger’s wound with her bare hands. Where was sincerity, and where was performance?
She was more complex than he had imagined.
Kirion remembered a voice from the previous night—wet, confused, whispered in his ear. He shook off the thought, telling himself it was just desire for someone he could never have.
Men…
Smirking at his own fleeting lust, Kirion turned his gaze forward. It was time for the next visitor.
After many more people had their audience, it finally ended. Lucretia finally let out a small sigh of relief.
But her day wasn’t over—an embassy from another kingdom was to arrive.
“The delegation from Alora is entering.”
The envoys entered the audience hall. Most were dark-skinned, typical of the southern kingdom, but one young man had light blond hair and fair skin, standing out among the rest.
Lucretia’s eyes widened.
‘This… is the person…’
He was the same young man who had handed her a handkerchief at the masked ball the previous night.
