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chapter 5
The Dying Ember
“Absolutely, don’t wake me while I’m sleeping.”
“I don’t want to.”
Mirren, who was about to lie down after finishing her preparations, sat back up and stared at Hegel, who was already lying on the adjacent bed.
His long legs jutted out beyond the narrow bed.
The bed Hegel was lying on had actually been set aside for his younger brother, Gren, to use when he grew bigger, but since Gren still preferred to sleep with their parents, the bed had no proper occupant.
Mirren’s house had only two rooms besides the kitchen.
“I said I don’t want to.”
“Yeah, but that’s exactly why I want to.”
Hegel looked at Mirren arrogantly as he crossed his legs.
Then, when their eyes met, he smirked.
In the end, instead of insisting further, Mirren lay down.
As she stared at the ceiling, keeping her posture straight, Hegel, who had been quietly observing her, finally spoke.
“Why shouldn’t I wake you?”
“I don’t like being woken when I’m asleep.”
“That’s true, I don’t like it either…”
Even so, saying that much seemed a little strange.
Hegel murmured to himself.
But Mirren couldn’t focus on his words.
After spending the whole day walking the mountains and arguing with Hegel, it was already far past her usual bedtime.
She had tried to sleep early several times, but Hegel’s presence made it impossible.
She could already imagine hearing Ryan’s voice waking her up.
Ryan would become extremely anxious if she didn’t get up even briefly at dawn.
“…Are you… dreaming?”
“…”
“What, are you asleep?”
After calling her several times without a response, Hegel gently looked at her side profile.
To fall asleep mid-conversation… she must have been really exhausted today.
After pondering for a while, Hegel finally raised his hand.
Warm white light emanated from it, enveloping Mirren.
It was one of the high-level magic arts: Healing.
Then, Hegel tilted his head.
Something felt… strange.
“…You can’t find them?”
Mirren slowly lifted her heavy eyes at the faint voice.
The first thing she saw was the familiar ceiling of her bedroom.
Yesterday, she had clearly fallen asleep in Maria’s room.
Had Maria ordered a servant to move her?
Thinking this, Mirren raised her eyes toward the source of the voice.
There was Ryan, who had already noticed her presence and approached.
“Mirren, you’re awake?”
“Your Majesty, what are you saying? You can’t find the culprit?”
Seeing the knights standing behind Ryan, Mirren deliberately addressed him as “Your Majesty.”
Ryan, instead of commenting on that, spoke in a puzzled tone.
“Apparently, too many people entered the garden that day.”
“But the place where we had our meal is the inner garden, isn’t it?”
“Yes. But the inner garden was strictly controlled by the knights. Any intruder would have been detected immediately.”
The inner garden was close to the Empress’s chamber, making it difficult to enter casually.
Moreover, their dining there that day was top secret.
What that meant was clear.
“You mean it happened from within?”
“That’s the assumption.”
“But all my maids were—!”
“I know. Most of your maids that day were brought in by their families.”
They could not have been bribed.
Nor could he suspect the knights on guard, for they were watching each other.
Lost in thought, Mirren finally couldn’t hold back a cough and let out a long, harsh one.
Ryan, who had been worried, immediately reacted.
He patted her back as she struggled to breathe, showing his concern without hesitation.
It happened occasionally when she coughed violently.
“Haa… hhuh…”
“Mirren, breathe slowly, okay? If you have phlegm, it’s okay to spit it out.”
He offered his hand, as if urging her to spit.
She couldn’t bring herself to spit on the most precious hand in the kingdom. Holding back, she ended up coughing on Ryan’s sleeve.
Drops of blood spattered on his fine clothes.
Ryan looked down at it with cold eyes and spoke through gritted teeth.
“Don’t worry about anything else.”
“How can I not? It happened around me.”
“Your health is more important than anything. Don’t you understand that?”
Mirren, sitting on the bed, could see his hand clenched so tightly it turned white.
“Do you only care about Maria? Why don’t you think about me? Why?”
Even though he was furious enough for the veins in his thick neck to bulge, he didn’t raise his voice.
That was the only form of reproach he could direct at Mirren.
She was focused on the culprit for one reason.
Ryan had said the target of the assassination was Mirren, but upon reflection, that couldn’t be.
Who would risk everything just to kill someone already dying?
So the target was naturally the Emperor—Ryan. He probably wasn’t surprised for the same reason.
Mirren looked at Ryan bitterly.
“Ryan.”
“…”
“Did you attend breakfast yesterday?”
But this man…
Why did he value a dying ember more than his own life…?
“No.”
Ryan answered quietly, shaking his head.
“I was too busy to go.”
He flopped into the chair beside the bed and gave Mirren a apologetic smile.
“That’s a relief. I ended up falling asleep too late yesterday.”
“It’s okay. We can have breakfast together another time.”
Once their eye levels matched, Mirren reached out and tugged at Ryan’s sleeve.
Blood had stained his otherwise fine garment.
Raising her head, she instructed the nearby servant:
“Bring His Majesty a new set of clothes.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Mirren rubbed a drop of blood on his sleeve and wrist with her thumb.
She hid her bitter thoughts, hoping the stain would vanish soon.
“…Mirren?”
“These are precious hands, after all.”
Even after the bloodstain was gone, Mirren continued smoothing his hand for a long while.
A few minutes passed. Mirren finally lifted her head to look at Ryan.
His face, turned slightly to the side, was flushed red.
“Ryan, your face is red.”
“…Think it’s because of the cold. Mirren, every time you do that, my heart races and I feel dizzy.”
Speaking of cold when it was still warm outside, he smiled awkwardly, like a shy teenager.
Mirren, watching him, smiled faintly and released his hand.
Ryan, who had briefly clenched and released his hand, suddenly asked:
“Mirren.”
“Yes?”
“May I get on the bed?”
It wasn’t the first time they had shared a bed.
After eight years of marriage, it was natural.
But hearing him say it with a flushed face made it feel different.
“Of course. It’s cold, after all.”
Mirren’s soft reply made Ryan nod in agreement.
Cold—both used it as the reason to allow the other to take the side of the bed.
When Ryan got on, the bed creaked under his weight.
“Cover yourself with the blanket.”
“…Okay.”
Sitting side by side under the blanket, the large bed suddenly felt narrow.
With a single gesture, Ryan dismissed the servants and knights outside.
The room was now completely silent, with only the two of them.
“I wasn’t ignoring your thoughts.”
“If you had, you wouldn’t be saying that. Mirren, every cough of yours pains my heart. You knew that.”
It was a simple apology. Ryan answered lightly, like a spoiled child, because he knew her.
“So let me hold your hand as a comfort.”
“My hand?”
“When else would I be able to hold it?”
His large hand, hidden under the blanket, slowly covered hers.
Seeing such a large, bear-like hand act so gently made her smile faintly.
“Why are you smiling?”
“You’ve never properly held a hand before.”
“I have, though.”
“Really?”
Ryan shrugged and didn’t confirm the truth, adding only:
“From now on, you’re the only hand I’ll ever hold.”
“You mustn’t say that.”
After marriage, it had become common for couples to grow distant and for mistresses to appear.
Moreover, Ryan, as Emperor, would need a new Empress if Mirren died.
Mirren simply stated a fact, but Ryan’s tone darkened.
“Why not?”
“Ryan, it’s just that…”
“Should only be for your next Empress?”
At that moment, Ryan’s cautious touch became intense.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his embrace.
A brief kiss landed on her ear.
It wasn’t tender—there was desperation in it.
“Mirren, I can only do this for you.”
Whispering, he stood and left the bed.
From Ryan, a cold voice rang out.
“There will be no next Empress for you.”
“Ra—”
Mirren tried to stop his anger, but her weak body couldn’t even grasp his sleeve.
Alone, she gripped the sheets tightly in frustration.
The door opened, and someone entered.
Thinking it might be Ryan returning, she lifted her head.
It was a pale and exhausted Maria.
“Maria, are you alright?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. The treatment went well, and my fever has safely gone down.”
“You should still rest. Why rush out like this?”
“His Majesty commanded me to stay by Your side. He thought you’d be lonely.”
Even in his anger, Ryan’s thoughts were only of Mirren.
Eyes closed, lost in thought, Mirren asked Maria:
“Maria, when did I return to my room yesterday?”
“You didn’t know? His Majesty personally carried you back.”
“The time… then…”
“It was around when breakfast was being prepared.”
Her heart sank.
‘No.’
‘He was too busy to go.’
What kind of expression had he worn when he smiled then?
Strange. Mirren couldn’t understand him at all.
Or perhaps she didn’t want to.
At that moment, Mirren rose from the bed and dashed outside.
