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Chapter 27
“Are you okay, Xavier? No, I mean, Your Highness the Prince. Even if it’s just a duel, how could he do this to you?”
Julienne, who was brushing dirt off Xavier’s cheek, turned sharply to scold Baltas. But Baltas didn’t even spare him a glance, turning away as if it wasn’t worth his time.
“I’m fine, Mother.”
“But…”
“If you act like this, it only makes me look weaker.”
Last year, during their duel, Julienne had rushed in to stop it, causing an interruption. The duel had to restart, and the Emperor had scolded Julienne harshly for his rudeness.
Xavier furrowed his brows, glaring at Baltas’s retreating back.
At least his bones weren’t broken—he was able to stand with the help of the soldiers.
“Ugh.”
“Xavier, lean on me. I’ll help you.”
“I’m fine.”
Xavier pushed his mother’s hand away and moved the soldier’s arm aside, slowly walking on his own toward the Emperor.
Seated on the throne, the Emperor had two chairs beside him. To his right—on Xavier’s left—sat Empress Marlene, Baltas’s mother. The other seat was empty since Julienne had left her place.
Julienne shot a glare at Marlene, silently blaming her for what happened to her son. Then, with a pout, he returned to his seat.
“Your skills are improving, Baltas.”
The Emperor looked at his eldest son with pride, as if he were admiring a precious treasure.
Xavier felt a sharp ache deep inside.
Baltas von Amileus. His half-brother and the Crown Prince of the Kalanta Empire—he was an unshakable mountain that Xavier could never seem to surpass.
Since birth, Baltas had been superior in every way—his lineage, intelligence, and swordsmanship were all flawless.
Xavier clenched his fists, trembling slightly, but he masked his emotions and forced himself to speak.
“As expected, you’re amazing, Brother. I wasn’t in the best condition today, but even if I had been, I’m not sure I could’ve won.”
“You weren’t feeling well? What do you mean?”
“Ah, I hurt my shoulder while training.”
Hearing this, the Emperor’s expression darkened.
Xavier’s words had a hidden meaning—he wanted to imply that Baltas only won because Xavier wasn’t at his best, not because Baltas was significantly stronger.
But instead of sympathy, the Emperor scolded him harshly.
“I’ve told you before—anyone who wields a sword must take care of their body! Do you think an enemy commander would go easy on you if you complained about injuries? Pathetic!”
The harsh reprimand made Xavier flinch.
As if this day wasn’t already bad enough.
Waking up from a nightmare, dealing with an incompetent servant who couldn’t even button his shirt properly, and now this reaction from his father—it was turning out to be the worst day.
“Your Majesty… Please don’t be so harsh. Xavier did his best, didn’t you?”
His mother, Julienne, spoke up, trying to soften the Emperor’s mood. But the Emperor’s stern expression didn’t change.
Meanwhile, Marlene, as always, sat elegantly, her face calm and unreadable.
And Baltas—he didn’t even glance at Xavier, as if he didn’t exist.
That was what enraged Xavier the most.
No matter how much he obsessed over Baltas, Baltas never saw him as a rival.
“One day… I will crush you.”
Suppressing his fury, Xavier bowed to the Emperor and turned away.
Limping as he left, he felt utterly humiliated, like a defeated soldier.
Today, he needed comfort.
A familiar face appeared in his mind.
Meanwhile, in Another Place
Aira slowly opened her eyes.
The familiar ceiling greeted her.
She could feel the soothing presence of sacred energy flowing gently around her.
Everything had returned to normal.
As she sat up, Gemma—who had been arranging a vase near the window—quickly set it aside and rushed to her.
Wiping her hands on her apron, Gemma helped support her.
“Miss! Are you alright?”
“…Gemma.”
Aira’s weak, trembling voice soon regained its usual calm and gentle tone.
She placed a hand on her forehead and asked,
“When I collapsed… was anyone else here?”
“Ah…”
Gemma tilted her head, thinking.
“I don’t know. I ran in so quickly that I didn’t notice. But when I got here, you were alone… You really scared me.”
“…I see.”
Aira tried to recall the last moments before she lost consciousness.
Through her blurred vision, she remembered a stranger.
Dark hair. Black clothing.
He had approached her.
And then… he kissed her.
“…”
Aira’s hand, which had been resting on her forehead, slowly moved down to her lips.
The deep, firm press of his lips.
The strange energy that had seeped into her, calming the raging storm of sacred power inside her.
Like a river extinguishing a sudden wildfire, it had felt like a moment of salvation.
“Who was he? And what did he mean by…”
“This won’t be the last time.”
His voice echoed in her ears.
“I will come find you again.”
“Does he know about my power?”
The sacred power inside her had gone out of control, nearly killing her.
And then, an unknown man had saved her.
It had been so unexpected, so surreal—almost like a dream.
But it wasn’t a dream.
Her lips still tingled with the lingering sensation.
As Aira bit her lip in thought, Gemma spoke again, her voice full of concern.
“The doctor said you might have collapsed from exhaustion. You should rest for a while.”
“Alright.”
“Oh, and by the way, the Count was here earlier.”
At Gemma’s words, Aira’s eyebrows twitched slightly.
“…My father?”
When Luna was sick, Count Marceline would rush to her side, checking on her condition and protecting her excessively. But toward Aira, he was always cold and distant.
Even when she was sick, Aira rarely showed it.
Once, when she had a high fever of over 40 degrees, she sat upright at dinner as usual. When her trembling hand dropped a spoon, others realized she was unwell.
Her father had only said one thing after seeing her like that:
“That’s the proper attitude for the eldest daughter of the Count’s family.”
So, Aira remained at the table until the meal was finished.
Later, she nearly collapsed in her room and had to be treated by a doctor.
But she had always lived by enduring pain in silence, believing that patience was a virtue.
Unlike Luna, who would tear up even over a small cut, Aira never sought anyone’s attention.
“…”
Aira tried to shake off unnecessary thoughts, but Gemma continued speaking.
“Baron Siret sent a gift—a rare Vandrekina ginseng. He personally instructed the pharmacist to prepare a tonic for you.”
Vandrekina ginseng was a highly valuable plant, costing over 10,000 Berks per root.
It was known to help restore strength and energy in patients.
“Even when Lady Luna asked for it before, he didn’t give it to her.”
