I was taken aback by his sudden order to heal Imelda Freimer’s daughter.

Even I, someone who made a point of staying out of politics, knew of her.

She was no ordinary figure, but a brilliant intellectual who had led the revolution against the monarchy.

She was now Speaker of the Assembly and the most influential figure in the Republic of Estante. She was already being tipped as a leading presidential candidate.

As far as I knew, she had never married.

And yet… she had a daughter.

So she was an unwed mother.

“Is her daughter badly hurt?”

It was the first time my husband had given me such an order.

I asked calmly.

“I heard she was in an accident not long ago. She’s dying.”

I looked at him in silence.

“If we bring her onto our side, she’ll be useful eventually. She controls both the Assembly and public opinion.”

He didn’t need to explain any further.

I knew enough about politics to understand what was expected of me.

My husband may despise the royal family – and, by extension, me – but that didn’t mean he disapproved of my influence.

Without a doubt, that woman would be useful for furthering his ambitions.

Was he aiming even higher?

Given his ability and ambition, it was entirely possible.

“How much time do you think you have left? Four years? Five? It’s still a secret, isn’t it? Do you feel like your life is wearing down every time you use your powers? Do you really think your husband is any different to us? You’re the strongest saint alive. Do you think he’ll just let that power go unused? I’d bet my right eye that he’ll exploit you until your lifespan is cut in half.”

Ludwig’s words resurfaced in my mind.

But I forced them down, burying them again.

“Understood. When should I meet the child?”

Would my husband—Reinhardt Hilares—be any different from my father… or from Ludwig?

No.

I couldn’t be certain.

***

A few days later, I met Imelda Freimer’s daughter.

Before dawn, when it was so dark that even the moon was hidden, I pulled a hood over my head and travelled in a carriage with my husband. We were bound for a carefully arranged, secret location.

A heavy, suffocating silence hung between us.

I hadn’t disobeyed his orders.

Everything had gone exactly as he intended.

And yet…

His expression was unusually severe.

Our destination was a small cabin deep within the forest.

The air trembled with the soft, restless hum of insects and the cry of an owl echoed through the darkness.

“…You’ve arrived.”

Imelda Freimer was exactly as I had imagined.

Sharp.

Impeccable.

She was the kind of person who could overwhelm others with a single glance.

Now I understood why my husband had wanted to control her.

Even someone like her, who was so firm in her principles and so uncompromising when it came to right and wrong, was not immune.

After all, a child is a parent’s greatest weakness.

This led me to wonder: Why had I, from childhood, only ever been used by my own father?

I lowered my hood just enough to reveal my face and greeted her.

Imelda Freimer pressed her lips together tightly before opening the cabin door.

Inside, the space was far cleaner and more orderly than its worn exterior suggested.

On the bed lay a small girl.

She couldn’t have been more than five or six years old — too young to understand what death meant.

And yet…

She lay there lifelessly, her fragile body marked by severe injuries.

“…Oh my…”

I frowned at the horrifying sight, stepping closer to the bed and kneeling beside her.

My husband said nothing.

Instead, he stood to one side with his arms folded, leaning against a pillar and watching me.

I gently took the child’s small, chubby hand in both of mine and pressed a soft kiss onto it.

The healing did not take long.

Closing my eyes, I offered a quiet, earnest prayer.

Using my power felt like breathing life into another.

When I exhaled, that breath passed into the child and became the source of their life.

A sacred golden light wrapped around me.

It glowed with pure vitality — radiant and warm — and, as the child began to breathe again, she drew that light into herself.

The wounds that had begun to rot were healed.

Shattered, broken and dislocated bones slowly returned to their proper place.

“…Mom.”

After a moment, the child slowly opened her eyes—as if it were a miracle.

Her gaze, searching for her mother, suddenly turned to me.

“Who are you?”

So she wouldn’t be afraid, I spoke in the gentlest voice I could muster.

“Hello. I’m Sienna Hilares. What’s your name?”

“Stacy Freimer.”

“That’s a very beautiful name. You must have been in so much pain. You’ve been very brave, Stacy.”

“Mom… who is this big sister? She’s so sparkly and pretty.”

Her childish voice, lisping slightly as she looked between me and her mother, made her all the more endearing.

“Thank you… I will never forget this kindness, not even in death.”

Imelda Freimer—the woman who had seemed so rigid, as if not even a drop of blood would come from her if pierced was crying.

“It’s alright. I only did this with the intention of atoning for what the royal family has done.”

I smiled softly and pulled the trembling Imelda into a hug.

I meant it, too.

Even if it had been my husband’s command, I would never have been able to heal the child unless I had been sincere.

That was the nature of divine power.

It could only be used with a pure and earnest desire to save someone.

“You and your daughter will live happily from now on, won’t you? That’s… truly a wonderful thing.”

On the way back to the estate, I broke the heavy silence and spoke to my husband, retracing our steps.

He only nodded briefly in response, though.

Ah, right.

We weren’t that close.

I had almost forgotten.

He was the man who wanted to punish me.

To bring me down.

He was the one who truly seemed as though not a drop of blood would come from him if he were pierced. But he wasn’t Imelda.

It was the man standing beside me.

Come to think of it, though, he had been stabbed not long ago.

Since he bled, he was at least human.

“Then get some rest.”

After escorting me back to my room, my husband turned away, coldly showing me his back as he walked off.

For a brief moment, I felt a sense of inexplicable disappointment at his distant demeanor, but the moment I stepped inside, I was seized by a sudden fit of coughing.

I covered my mouth.

Cough, cough—

After coughing for a long time, I looked down at my hand and saw that it was covered in bright red blood.

This was the first time I had coughed up blood.

It was clear that using my divine power had taken its toll, carving away at my life and leaving yet another sign that my end was approaching.

I could save those on the brink of death, yet here I was, quietly dying.

Before anyone could notice, I hurried into the bathroom and washed the blood away.

It was just one child.

Surely it couldn’t have cost me that much?

If I rested, I would be fine.

Forcing down the unease tightening in my chest, I lay back on the bed, closed my eyes and tried to sleep.

***

Even after sleeping far longer than usual due to sheer exhaustion, my condition hadn’t improved at all the next day.

My husband had already left for work.

Despite my favorite dishes being laid out before me, I couldn’t bring myself to eat.

Something was wrong.

My body burned with heat and my stomach churned relentlessly.

When the head chef brought out a meat dish, I felt even more nauseous, as if my throat were tightening shut.

Suddenly, I felt dizzy and had an overwhelming urge to vomit.

Ghck!

Fighting back the retching, and afraid that I might cough up blood again, I forced myself to stand up and head for the bathroom.

But my body swayed; I felt unsteady and weak.

The world spun violently around me.

“Madam!”

As I collapsed, the last thing I saw was Laura’s pale, terrified face.

***

When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in bed.

Through my blurred vision, I saw Doctor Eleanor watching me with concern.

“Madam… may I ask—when was your last menstrual period?”

“I… I’m not sure…”

I trailed off, avoiding a proper answer.

“Why… why are you asking that? Is something wrong with me?”

After checking my pulse and reviewing the results of the blood test conducted while I was unconscious,
Doctor Eleanor hesitated.

A terrible, ominous feeling tightened around my chest.

I pressed her urgently.

“Is there… something seriously wrong with me?”

Something like death, already standing at my doorstep.

“…No. Not that.”

“…Then what is it?”

“…Madam… it seems you are pregnant.”

When I heard the words that left her lips — something I had never even imagined — my heart sank.

Something worse than death had just happened.