Chapter 3: The Lady Saint and the Hero King

As senior officials gathered together in the early morning, the death of General Bakula loomed over them. The room froze with fear, and silence reigned. Just a generation ago, the general’s overwhelming power had brought victory to Sauslind. He was a hero, their protector. In recent meetings, the pro-war faction was always the first to launch into arguments, but in the wake of Bakula’s death, they were all quiet.

Prince Christopher’s cold voice boomed throughout the room. “We will keep the news about General Bakula under wraps until the situation here has calmed down.”

Murmurs rippled around him.

“But, Your Highness!” The pro-war faction immediately protested.

Chris cut them off with a glare. “Fear and anxiety are spreading among the people. We’re not only dealing with the plague but a possible war as well. We cannot afford to cause more unrest by telling them our country’s hero is dead. Especially when his death was reported by an unknown witness.”

The prince had a point, and the pro-war faction didn’t try to argue with him any further. Losing Bakula was a huge blow to their faction when their entire objective was to push for conflict with Maldura.

“Grima Bowen,” Chris called to a man in his mid-forties. He was the commander of the Black Wing Knights who were left behind in the capital after General Bakula split their forces. Chris’s voice was eerily emotionless as he appointed Grima to take Bakula’s place and charged him with investigating the general’s attackers. It made a chill run down my spine.

I, Glen Eisenach, was stationed in a corner of the room, quietly spectating. There was a lump in my chest—a “bad feeling,” if you will. Although I regularly accompanied the prince as his bodyguard, weapons were banned from meetings between top officials, and since I had my sword with me at all times, I wasn’t allowed in. My father was an exception; he was general of the imperial guard and had His Majesty’s express approval. Despite the rules normally prohibiting it, there were three of us from the prince’s personal guard attending this meeting. Our presence here was proof the royal family was in danger.

The king wasn’t the only one who had fallen ill; his elder sister, Duchess Strasser, was bedridden due to the Ashen Nightmare as well. Two members of the royal family had contracted the plague in succession. Calling this an emergency situation was an understatement.

As my childhood friend coolly debated with the other high-ranking nobles, an anxiety the likes of which I had never experienced before welled up inside me. Up until this point, no matter how far he was backed into a corner, Chris always maintained his composure. It was clear to me now that he’d never panicked because he always had a stable support system to lean back on.

Even if Chris was a bit reckless at times, his father always had his back. When his policies provoked dissatisfaction with the conservative faction, he remained undaunted. Besides his father, he normally had two others at his side as well: Lady Elianna, his betrothed, who had built up a reputation for herself among the people, and Alexei, who flawlessly laid the groundwork for the prince’s endeavors in advance.

It was their mental support that was most important, however. No matter how tough the obstacle Chris faced, he was never truly without options. That was why he could overcome it all with such poise. The person he wanted to protect the most was at his side, hence him being so daring and self-assured.

I almost held my breath as debate sparked among the officials about the prince’s betrothed.

“Are we sure she hasn’t simply run away?”

When news that Elianna was missing came up, the first to speak (to no one’s great surprise) was Earl Brandt of Duke Odin’s faction. Voices of shock and protest immediately broke out, but some chimed in with their agreement. All of the latter were from the duke’s faction.

“Seems plausible to me. She claimed she was going to settle the unrest among the people, but perhaps that was just lip service. Odds are she’s already fled. Either way, she was a Bibliophile Princess who knew nothing outside the world of books. I’m sure the reality of the plague and those infected by it caused her to run due to fear. It seems a perfectly believable explanation to me.”

There were few who opposed their criticism and derision. Most who supported Chris and Lady Elianna’s union were mid-ranking nobility, young civil officials, and (most prominently) the citizenry. Those at the top of the social ladder were more conservative and aligned with Duke Odin’s stance.

Moreover...

“You have a point. The prince’s betrothed was the one who originally advocated for peace with Maldura. Yet inviting them here only caused the Ashen Nightmare to spread. She likely got scared she would be held responsible for that and took off.”

Unsurprisingly, the pro-war faction joined in with their own unsubtle ridicule. The man who spoke turned a pointed look at the neutral faction, where Lady Elianna’s father sat silently. Their whole greasy group concurred in pushing the blame off on the prince’s absent fiancée.

“It does make one question the girl’s nature. This is a grave predicament, is it not?”

They spoke as if they’d already confirmed that Lady Elianna was dodging her responsibilities. And unfortunately, in a rare move, the chief members of the pro-war faction and royal faction were all too happy to agree on this point. Marquess Bernstein had reduced the military in the past couple of years, and both factions saw this as an opportunity to get rid of him and his daughter—particularly because they’d had numerous disagreements with Lady Elianna as well.

“Ah yes, I heard there’s someone else whose reputation is growing in the capital as of late,” said one noble, intentionally changing the subject. It was hard to believe these men were having such a discussion when their future crown princess was missing.

“That’s right,” agreed another with a calculating grin.

Pain shot through my fist as I clenched it.

This is hardly the time to be bringing up such nonsense!

Earl Brandt proudly launched into an explanation for the rest of those present. “The outbreak of the Ashen Nightmare is spreading apprehension among the common folk. People seeking some way to protect themselves are crowding around the capital’s free treatment facility. Fortunately, the pomelo fruit is widely known to be effective in preventing the disease. In the past sixteen years, the Diana company has dried and stored pomelo fruit. The duke’s daughter, Lady Pharmia, has been handing it out to the poor and their children. Many are now calling her the ‘Lady Saint.’ It’s no exaggeration to call her Sauslind’s savior!”

People brightened, showering the lady with praise. I managed to bite back the words of protest hanging on the tip of my tongue, gritting my teeth in frustration.

This is absolutely ridiculous!

Considering Lady Elianna’s personality and past accomplishments, there was no doubt in my mind she truly did intend to quell the uprising in the Ralshen Region. She was also the one who’d remained steadfast in supporting efforts to research a cure for the plague all these years. It was her idea to construct a free treatment facility and education center for doctors. Ten years ago when she and His Highness first met, she mentioned it to him, and he spent nearly that entire decade laying the groundwork to make it happen. Now Lady Pharmia was receiving all of the praise.

I realize this sounds rude, but she’s stealing credit for their work.

Despite the truth, Earl Brandt blithely continued singing praises for the duke and his family. “I realize that Lady Elianna has her fair share of accomplishments as well, but given the situation, what can I say? Perhaps we should rethink who is truly important to Sauslind as things stand right now.”

He was basically suggesting they switch out Lady Elianna for Lady Pharmia. Other people agreed, mumbling, “Well, we certainly can’t have a crown princess who abandons her own country.” They spoke as if they were convinced that Lady Elianna had turned her back on us.

As he sat in the king’s chair, Chris said nothing in response. The atmosphere around him remained the same as it had at the start of the meeting, and that only made my unease grow.

A harsh voice echoed through the room. “Enough of this nonsense.” It was Earl Casull, highly revered as an authority figure within the royal faction. His expression was stiff, voice unforgiving as he stared down his fellow nobles. “The wedding date has already been officially set. Lady Elianna is your future crown princess. In fact, the whole reason she is missing is because she was with General Bakula when they were attacked. Instead of seeing this for what it truly is—an emergency—you would cast suspicion on her? Surely you would not speak ill of decisions our country has already made at this late hour.”

Earl Brandt faltered at that pointed barb.

Earl Casull’s words carried such weight because his house had been loyal to the royal family for generations. Also, the larger factions weren’t a cohesive group. That went for the military as well. Not all of them were with the pro-war faction; my father, the general, was more neutral.

After a short pause, the pro-war faction jumped in to attack Lady Elianna’s failings from a different angle.

“Honestly, if she hadn’t stuck her nose where it didn’t belong and insisted on quelling the revolt, we wouldn’t be in this situation. She’s the one who got General Bakula wrapped up in all of that. He’s a victim. How is she going to take responsibility?”

They went on like that, regurgitating the same arguments. I had to hold myself back from sighing loudly. I respected Chris and his father for having the patience to put up with this constantly. I’d be exhausted if I were the one dealing with it, and I’d probably put in a request to serve in the countryside instead.

Alas...

I stared at Chris. There was nowhere for him to run, unlike me. I swore long ago I would fight to provide a space where he could rest and be at ease. Yes, a long, long time ago...

“Quiet,” rang a cold, sharp voice.

I blinked a couple of times before realizing it was the prime minister speaking—the man who represented the neutral faction. Despite his unassuming appearance, when he mediated between the other officials, he was very authoritative.

“Earl Casull has a valid point. We’ve already recognized Lady Elianna as our future crown princess. Someone attacked her and her party, and that act is tantamount to treason. We should consider this an emergency, the same as we did with General Bakula’s passing.”

The three factions present were puzzled about how to interpret his statements. At face value, he was insisting they remain loyal to the decisions they had already made. But he also spoke of the attack in the past tense, as if he was already considering what step they should take next. He was showing favoritism to neither side.

Bitter as I was to admit it, I respected his ability. I could see why he’d been selected as the prime minister.

As Chris began giving out his orders, the bad feeling that had been twisting in my gut suddenly tightened. “In regards to the free treatment facility in the capital, we created that for the people. What anyone else does there, so long as it doesn’t interfere with the original purpose of the facility, I won’t interfere.”

A shock ran through me. That facility was something he and Lady Elianna had built together. By saying that, he was practically acknowledging Lady Pharmia’s actions as just. He was certainly showing impartiality as a politician, but it was so...unlike him. Up until now, he always lost himself to his emotions when it came to anything regarding Lady Elianna. I almost didn’t recognize him.

The difference was just as palpable to the others in the room. While some were dumbfounded by the change, others eyed the prince as if scrutinizing him.

My fists tensed, and suddenly, a memory came rushing back to me. Perhaps Ian’s words before he died had been a curse—a spell to bind His Highness.

“Chris, you are this country’s prince.”

The two had been friends once, and that one line was all Ian left behind before Chris killed him. Now those words seemed to be haunting him, forcing him to change. Almost like he was inwardly chastising himself to prioritize the lives of his people over his obsession with Lady Elianna.

My hands remained clenched for the rest of the meeting.

~.~.~.~

I heard my name being called and turned to find a ten-year-old boy staring up at me, eyes glowing and cheeks flushed red. His lips spread in a grin as he spoke, words slightly accented. “Thanks to you, my whole family can travel in peace. Thank you so much, Lady Saint!”

The boy’s clothes were covered in dirt, his skin a deep tan. His social rank was obviously low, but I beamed at him and kneeled nonetheless, stretching a hand toward the mop of unkempt hair on his head. The others around me knit their brows in disapproval, but I responded in the same soft and kind voice I used with everyone else.

“May the Goddess Saoura watch over you and your family,” I said, using the name of the Sauslind’s goddess of love and healing.

As if by instinct, he responded with words from his own religion. “And may the Roma’s stars guide your path, Lady Saint.” It was a traditional saying the Roma used among themselves as they traveled the Ars Continent.

After parting ways with the child, I took some time to respond to others who called out to me, and once finished, climbed into my carriage to head for the next location. Ever since the capital announced the new outbreak of the Ashen Nightmare, people were clamoring for medicine and salvation. They came from all over the country, traveling here in droves, as I suspected they would.

“But there’s fewer people than I thought there would be...” I mumbled.

It wasn’t until I was in the safe, confined space of my carriage that I could finally take a breather.

“Lady Pharmia,” called one of my female servants. She passed over a wet cloth for me to cleanse myself with. I wiped my hands and skin several times, taking a cup of water to gargle as a preventative measure. These steps had become customary among the nobility since the Ashen Nightmare’s original outbreak sixteen years ago. The disease was rampant enough outside that you could catch it without ever realizing. By washing and gargling, we could at least reduce the spread as much as possible.

The drink she next handed me was pomelo juice, which was as valuable as gold right now since it was midwinter. We had made improvements to the beverage to make it more palatable, but the taste still wasn’t pleasant. Nonetheless, I reminded myself of its medicinal benefits and drained the cup.

I can’t afford to get infected right now.

I used some water to cleanse my mouth.

Nearby, one of my maids frowned. “Circumstances aside, this is absurd. Sauslind’s common folk and their children approaching you are one thing, but Roma as well? Do they have no respect for our country’s nobility? Plus, you’re closely related to the royal family. You’re heir to an ancient and honorable bloodline, my lady. I know the situation is dire, but the common folk are far too disrespectful!”

I smiled bitterly as maids surrounded me. Two were wiping down my hair while another sat in front of me, scrubbing so fiercely at my skin I feared she might peel it right off.

I, Pharmia Odin, had a noble bloodline, a solid education, and a respectable upbringing. If not for the present emergency, I would never show myself to the people, let alone touch them or speak with them. My high status wouldn’t permit it. It was only because of our dire circumstances that a noble lady as pampered as me could visit the free treatment center and the poor neighborhoods of the people, extending a hand of salvation. Rumors naturally spread as a result.

The free treatment center, which was established to treat the impoverished, sat at the edge of the capital. It had a modest reputation in the beginning. Thanks to Lady Elianna introducing me to everyone there, no one had any cause to doubt when I naturally assumed command of the place. However, when the Ashen Nightmare broke out again in the capital, I began passing out dried pomelo fruit. That roused their suspicions, and they were now keeping their distance.

I couldn’t blame them. Pomelo fruit was only effective against the Ashen Nightmare when squeezed into juice. Dried pomelo did basically nothing, as medical staff discovered during their research these past sixteen years. In spite of information to the contrary, people continued to fixate on the fruit. It had to be imported from abroad since it couldn’t be harvested in Sauslind during the winter. Thus, people’s attention turned to my family, since we had a trade deal with the main supplier of pomelo. Passing out dried fruit for free had inevitably earned me the name of “Lady Saint.”

I hadn’t intended to distribute it to the Roma originally. Nobles tended to avoid them, after all. But since they were helping spread my name, I didn’t mind.

As I mused over these thoughts to myself, I suddenly recalled the events from yesterday. A friend had suddenly approached me.

“Mia!”

That was a nickname only a select few ever used.

“Is what you’re doing truly just?”

Like me, she was closely related to the royal family and grew up a pampered lady, though she was known for her erratic behavior. She would shake off her maid, slip out of her house, and wander the town. At times, she would even barge into my house for a visit without warning. Even her marriage came as a shock from out of nowhere. The rest of us had to struggle to keep up and accommodate her.

Her visit yesterday had been entirely unprompted. She was pregnant and due to give birth at the start of summer, and yet she risked coming to a place teeming with plague just to see me.

“Pharmia,” she had repeated when I didn’t answer, her mahogany-colored eyes staring straight at me. “I know you’re passing around dried pomelo fruit. Stop.”

I smiled faintly, tilting my head. For a moment, a pained expression crossed her face. Almost as if she was the one hurt by my actions.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked.

Pomelo was the only fruit effective against the Ashen Nightmare. Yes, there was medicine out there to diagnose and slow the disease, but that didn’t ease people’s fears. It wasn’t a cure—it didn’t erase the sickness entirely. In which case, what was wrong with me doing something to reduce people’s anxiety?

When I said as much, my black-haired friend only shook her head, eyes judging me.

“If they eat that and feel safe, then they’re more likely to go outside and spread it or get sick themselves. You’re only making them lower their guard. That could make things worse. Pharmia, all of the doctors at the facility tried to stop you, didn’t they?”

Ah, so that’s why you’ve come. You’re taking her side.

There were people who tried to stop me at first, claiming I was deceiving people. All of the staff carried the same beliefs as Lady Elianna. “Even if the government disapproves, we should be spreading proper information,” they said. But on the other hand, none of the royal family had come to me directly to demand I cease my efforts. That was probably why Therese was here.

She continued, “His Highness and the doctors are trying to teach people preventative care, and you’re only getting in the way by doing this. If you want to pit yourself against Lady Elianna, there has to be a better—”

“Therese,” I said, cutting her off. It was rare for me to do that.

I already knew how other people saw me. They thought of me as a recluse who looked down on other people and laughed at them behind their backs. Yet now here I was standing center stage, with the citizenry lauding me as a saint. No doubt it shocked them, and they probably suspected me of having ulterior motives. To that I would say: so what? There were others out there doing the exact same thing.

“If His Highness disapproves of my actions, he need only make an official proclamation. He could inform the people of Sauslind that the dried fruit has no effect.”

“Mia...” Her face fell.

The number of infected was rising, and fear and confusion were beginning to take root all across the country. No official announcement had been made, but there were rumors the king had fallen sick as well. Some blamed Maldura for spreading it. War was on the horizon.

Although uncertainty loomed ahead, the pomelo fruit was the one thing people knew they could rely on because it was effective against the disease. But what would happen if the government revealed that the dried fruit had no benefits? What would happen if we ceased distributing it?

People would fall into despair. Some might start to doubt, thinking the aristocracy was monopolizing the fruit for themselves. That would take all hope away from the people. Revolts would break out. The northern lands were a good example of that. The reason neither the government nor His Highness could censure me was because I wasn’t doing anything wrong.

I gazed back at my friend, unyielding. “I’m not going to stop, Therese.” Things had already progressed past the point of no return, and I had no intention of ending it here. So I made my intentions clear, reaffirming my own resolve. “Don’t come here anymore.”

I’ve chosen my path, and it’s not one that will ever intersect with yours again.

Originally, we had walked the same path, before we were ever old enough to realize it. The two of us descended from houses connected to the royal family. Both the common folk and the nobility recognized us for our status and the bright future it would afford us. We were the most powerful because we were the strongest contenders to be wed to the crown prince. There were those who politely dismissed the possibility, saying we were too closely related. But the prince refused an engagement with the archduke’s daughter. The strongest candidates left after that—whose blood, house, and upbringing suited the role—were Therese and myself.

I thought we shared a tight bond with the prince, too. We were all close in age, had spent our childhoods together, and shared memories and secrets. Things only changed when she appeared.

Most likely, that was when the path Therese and I shared finally split. Once she was no longer a candidate to be Prince Christopher’s betrothed, she went off to find her own path. I was the one who decided to stay where I was.

From the time we were young, the two of us shared the same environment. People compared us, and we competed all the time. Sometimes we even comforted one another. She was the only companion I ever had who could truly understand me. And that was why I had to tell her...

“Therese.” She was gaping at me still, shocked by my previous response. I wanted to convey my gratitude—for her friendship, and for her coming this far with me. “Thank you for everything, and...farewell.”

I wasn’t going to turn back. My heart was made up from a young age. I wanted to stand beside His Highness, to support him, comfort him, and provide a place where he could feel at ease. That was my heart’s deepest desire. And this was my last, golden opportunity to fulfill it—a chance to get closer to him than I ever had been before.

So don’t get in my way, Therese. This is the only means I have left. I don’t care what I have to do to achieve my goal. As long as I can become the only woman in Prince Christopher’s life, that’s all that matters to me.

As the carriage rolled to a stop, I cut off the memories and climbed out. Before me was the temple where Karl, the Hero King, was enshrined. It was as famous and respected as the palace, and it acted as a symbol for Sauslind. His Highness and the other nobles had authorized it to be repurposed as a hospital for those sick with the Ashen Nightmare.

Other holy places across the country were being transformed into makeshift sick wards as well. It was a marked difference from the way things had been sixteen years ago. Back then, people turned the sick away, and some even resorted to violence. But there was none of that this time. The temple welcomed the infected with open arms.

It made sense that there were fewer flocking to the capital than I had expected; the prince was frantically passing measures to combat the disease. My own actions were likely impeding his efforts.

When I dismounted from my carriage, cries of joy rang out. “The Lady Saint has come!”

Noblemen were too terrified of the plague to leave their houses, let alone allow their daughters outside. Thus, by venturing out here where the infected were and interacting with people, my popularity was booming. There were even rumors that as long as I was around, no one near me would catch it.

I always made my way to the palace after visiting the temple. This was mostly to report on the infected and what I observed of the situation outside, but that wasn’t how it looked to the general populace. From their perspective, I was set to become the next crown princess.

With the outbreak of the Ashen Nightmare and whispers of war breaking out, all the hype and excited preparation for the crown prince’s wedding had ceased. Likewise, the Bibliophile Princess’s acclaim had waned as well.

I was fit to become crown princess. Voices rose in support of me, growing more persuasive by the day. Some even suspected Prince Christopher and I were close enough that I might become pregnant with the heir soon.

The source of these rumors was obvious, but I didn’t care if people knew it was me. I had never been the center of attention before, but now I was thrust into the limelight. Lady Elianna was no different. The only thing that separated the two of us was that Chris chose her and not me. That was it.

Therese’s words from before echoed in my head.

“Mia...” Even after I made my declaration and turned away, she had asked me again, in that commanding voice of hers, “Are you truly sure what you’re doing is right?”

I walked away without replying.

She continued calling after me, her voice trembling with emotion. “You fool... You absolute fool...”

As the memory faded, I made my way to the inner part of the temple, gazing up at the towering statue of the Hero King. He was said to have only ever loved the Lady of the Lagoon, Ceysheila.

But to leave your bloodline behind, you married other women, too. Do you truly think those people had no place in your heart? All that’s left in history is talk of the pure love you shared with the Lady of the Lagoon. But what of the other women who loved you—who wished for your love in return?

I squeezed my hands and bowed low. I didn’t need his answer because I had my own.

Pure love isn’t everything.

~.~.~.~

The Ralshen Region occupied the northeastern part of Sauslind, containing numerous mines across its lands. The highway connecting it to the neighboring Azul Region was always bustling in the winter. This was largely due to a never-ending stream of people commuting from Azul to find work in Ralshen. Foot traffic had dried up these past several days, however. The Ashen Nightmare, which had once haunted Sauslind’s lands, was back.

Yet in one of the roadside inns along the highway, laughter boomed. It was a rare sound, especially in light of the lack of people as of late and the morose atmosphere that had settled across the land.

A man was holding a stringed instrument in one hand, his melodious voice ringing through the main room in a way one scarcely heard in the remote countryside. “And that was where the man introduced himself. ‘I was born and bred in Saoura’s downtown and given my first bath in the waters of the Hero King’s temple. They gave me the last name King and the first name Tiger. I’m just a man, but there isn’t a wild beast out there that I can’t tame. Even a feral princess will be a kitten by the time I’m through.’ Thus he introduced himself, and the noble lady went red with anger. With a love whip in hand, she chortled, ‘How brazen! Very well, I will just have to teach you some manners!’ Thus it begins—the showdown between the animal tamer and the fierce princess. What end awaits the two?!”

He began strumming on his lute as the audience showered him with raucous applause.

“Old man!” called one of the customers after draining the last of his glass.

Grumbling, I refilled his drink. I was the keeper of this humble old inn that doubled as a pub, and I’d sure gotten myself some odd customers lately. Normally, my patrons were mostly miners, laborers, and merchants—not the types to show good etiquette. But I avoided unnecessary fights by not keeping any prostitutes around the place. It was a simple, run-of-the-mill inn that provided people with a place to sleep and eat. That was it.

So why was it so noisy here tonight?

Everyone had been holed up in their houses, quarantining themselves, but now they were crammed in together in a closed space, laughing and making merry.

Business was thriving, so there was nothing for me to sniff at. But that singer fellow... He claimed he was an entertainer, but there was something altogether suspicious about him. He had honey-blond hair and watchful emerald-green eyes. Since he was still on the cusp of adulthood, his appearance was disarmingly boyish and innocent. That fact wasn’t lost on him; he was taking advantage and profiting from it. The boy was handsome and skilled enough to perform at one of the theaters in the capital, yet my instincts told me not to let my guard down around him.

But he wasn’t even the one who intrigued me the most.

My gaze turned toward the back of the inn, where a small figure was slipping out the back door. I left the other staff to handle the refills and chased after them.

“Gene, are you going home?”

They swiveled around to look at me, their chestnut-colored, chin-length hair swaying with the motion. Their eyes were the same color, albeit almond shaped. They rarely spoke, and even their features were the definition of cold and unwelcoming.

I hesitated to let them leave. They were only about twelve or thirteen—too young and fragile to be wandering out into the snow alone. I knew Gene would refuse, but as I always did, I invited them to stay the night.

Gene shook their head.

“I figured as much.” I gave a bitter smile, slipped a hand into my pocket, and pulled out some coins, adding a few more than I usually did. “Added some more in as thanks for helping keep things here under control.”

Gene’s eyes went wide with surprise.

My wife popped out from behind me, forcing a wrapped lunchbox into Gene’s hands, and then the two of us watched them go.

There was a man waiting on a horse to deliver Gene back to their house.

“Be sure to give the witch our regards!” I called after them.

Gene bowed their head in a wordless gesture of thanks, briefly pausing to let their eyes linger on the inn, as if they’d left something behind. They were intrigued by the same person who had caught my attention. Not the young boy who could play in Sauslind’s famous theaters, no; it was the person who had stopped the incident here earlier before it escalated into something ghastly—the petite boy dining in a corner of my inn, who looked like an attendant in training.