❖ ❖ ❖

“Urgh…”

The man groaned in pain, his face contorted in agony.

The woman, who had been channeling her magic into him with an indifferent expression on her face, slowly withdrew her hand.

The blue light emanating from her pale, slender fingers gradually faded.

“What is his condition?”

A concerned voice came from behind.

The woman shrugged slightly.

“Thankfully, the rain began before the fire could spread too far. Only the lower part of his legs suffered minor burns. The wounds have mostly healed… but his strength is completely drained. More than that—he’s lost the will to live.”

“How long will it take?”

“At least two days. The life force I’ve injected needs time to fully merge with his body.”

Bright ivory skin, sparkling golden eyes and silver-blue hair reminiscent of the deep sea…

There was a mysterious beauty to the woman’s appearance, as if she didn’t quite belong to this world.

“You seem unusually devoted today.”

“Of course. He’s the human who helped raise my other half. Of course I should treat him well.”

“We need more time, Isis.”

The father’s eyes, looking at his only precious daughter, were filled with concern.

“Time?”

Isis replied lightly, as if it were nothing to worry about. Her face was as smooth and perfect as a finely crafted porcelain doll.

“He is already bound to another woman. You know who she is, don’t you?”

A faint smile tugged at Isis’s lips.

“That’s unfortunate. From what I saw, the woman seems to have found a new mate.”

A calm, confident smile spread across her face.

“Still, don’t take it too lightly.”

“Something like a bond… can be broken. If it’s me, that is.”

Isis’ clear voice echoed softly through the cave.

❖ ❖ ❖

“Where the hell did that man go?”

Cold sweat soaked the back of Count Henson’s neck at the Emperor’s angry roar.

Judging by the atmosphere, he might have been the criminal.

“There was just… so much rain, you could not see. Everyone was in a panic… I… I have no excuse, Your Majesty.”

A thick vein bulged from Rabion’s tightly furrowed brow.

“Someone must have helped him escape. Whoever they are, they must be found and dealt with. Use whatever means necessary – if anyone looks suspicious, I don’t care what you do.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Those on duty at the scene are to be punished for gross negligence. And the fugitive – put a massive bounty on his head and issue a nationwide manhunt.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“You will find him. Unless you’d rather be the one tied to the stake in his place.”

At the Emperor’s icy voice, Count Henson’s eyes instantly filled with terror.

❖ ❖ ❖

As he looked at the lingering trail of tears on Freya’s cheek, the eyes beneath Helien’s hood shone faintly with a wistful light.

“May you… achieve the purpose that brought you here.”

His crimson lips moved slowly.

“Forgive me… for I cannot break the taboo. All I can do for now is watch in silence.”

A faint golden light began to flow from his fingertips, seeping gently into her body.

Moments later, the woman stirred slightly, her expression noticeably more at ease.

Her soft, rhythmic breathing once again filled the quiet room.

❖ ❖ ❖

The hand, now stripped of its thin gloves, was wrapped in layer upon layer of bloody bandages.

“Haa…”

As Helien carefully removed the bandages, a small sigh escaped his lips.

The inner layers were completely soaked in blood and the wound was more serious than expected.

The pungent smell of blood slowly rose to his nose.

“How did you end up in this state? You should’ve called the palace doctor – or at least sent someone to the nearest temple before calling for me.”

“What did the Empress say?”

Despite Helien’s continued scolding, Rabion’s expression – so far unreadable – faltered subtly.

Even in the heat of summer, when he wore gloves all day in his office, she hadn’t even given him a glance.

It wouldn’t have taken much – just a moment’s attention.

But even that small thing was denied him.

Now, looking down at his hand, he couldn’t help the bitter taste in his mouth.

“What happened?”

Came Helien’s voice, laced with concern.

“It’s nothing, the other priests are useless. None of them can compare to you – you know that as well as I do.”

“Flattery aside, the wound is too deep. The palace physicians are known for their skill, but to leave an injury like this untreated – especially in this heat – is far too dangerous.”

With a slight shrug, Helien carefully examined Rabion’s hand once more.

Although it had been at least two days since the injury, blood was still oozing from the wound.

Shards of glass were clearly embedded in it, visible even to the n*ked eye.

‘Just what in the world happened?’

Not that asking would help – Helien knew the Emperor wouldn’t answer.

So instead, with a sigh, he switched to a more pointed tone, laced with threat.

“Next time, at least get proper first aid. Otherwise I won’t come back – no matter how many times you call me.”

“Fine. Anyway, you’re the only one…”

“All right. I was going to call you anyway, so it seemed more efficient to do it all at once. I didn’t want to complicate things unnecessarily.”

Rabion answered with closed eyes.

It was exactly as Helien had expected.

The right hand, which had only been hastily disinfected and bandaged in Riegor’s palace, was now a complete mess.

“I will begin now, Your Majesty.”

With a sigh, warmth began to spread through his hand.

A comforting warmth, as if cradling his pain – one that seemed to soothe not only the physical wound, but even the pain in his heart. Rabion didn’t mind the feeling.

“I have heard that the criminal has escaped. Is that perhaps what’s troubling Your Majesty?”

Rabion’s brow furrowed slightly at Helien’s sudden question.

“…Hmm.”

In truth, it wasn’t completely unrelated.

But amusingly, his thoughts were not on the fleeing Marquis Lambert – but on Freya.

That fleeting feeling when he caught her just as she was about to stumble away from him.

The faint light that had shone from her body just before the downpour began.

Her calm, unwavering gaze, fixed only on the criminal in the midst of the raging rain.

And the unease that still lingered in his chest, for even now – more than a full day later – she hadn’t woken up.

The shattered wine glass from their first night at the Riegor Palace had left a deep gash in his hand.

But with Helien’s treatment, such injuries would not leave a scar.

The wounds on his heart, however, were a different matter.

Rabion had always known that: he had long been used to physical pain. But emotional wounds – they never healed so easily.

As he slowly opened his eyes, he saw the soft golden light emanating from Helien’s fingertips.

It was a light he had seen countless times before, but each time it brought a strange sense of comfort.

“You must have been in such terrible pain… and yet, even then, your only concern was for Her Majesty the Empress. Truly, Your Majesty, I’ve never seen such unwavering devotion.”

So much for concentrating on the treatment – his mouth just wouldn’t shut. Chatting in the middle of a healing as if it were nothing. No other priest would dare be so casual.

Helien had never seemed particularly devout, and yet what demanded absolute concentration from others always seemed effortless to him – like child’s play.

As Rabion sat in silence, letting him tend to his injured hand, a memory surfaced – the day they first met.

“You’ve always been the one to tend to me-then and now.”

“Well, Your Majesty seeks me out every time you get hurt. At this rate, perhaps I should just leave the temple and become your personal physician.”

A playful twinkle flashed in his bright green eyes.

Back then, he’d been just a temple boy, running errands and accompanying Priest Dier on a visit to the Imperial Palace.

That day had been more than just the beginning of his relationship with Rabion – it had changed the course of his own life.

Thinking back on it now, a wistful smile tugged at his lips.

❖ ❖ ❖

After arriving at the Imperial Palace with Priest Dier, they weren’t taken to the main palace where the Emperor resided, but to one of the side palaces.

To young Helien, it didn’t matter where it was – everything looked grand and awe-inspiring.

Following a maid, they stopped in front of a certain room and were asked to wait.

“Please wait here for a moment.”

He didn’t know how many minutes passed, but soon the door opened and a richly adorned woman stepped out, breathing heavily.

From her clothes and the number of servants following her, it was clear that she was someone of very high status.

Even with her face pulled tight in displeasure, she was strikingly beautiful.

“We pay our respects to Her Majesty the Empress.”

Priest Dier said, bowing deeply.

Young Helien followed hastily, bowing as well.

The Empress glanced at them, gave a slight nod and quickly left the area.

The maid who had brought them there stepped forward and spoke.

“As always, please remove all traces. I’m sure you’re aware – this must never get out.”

Priest Dier simply nodded, his expression unusually sombre.

Helien had found it strange at the time – until they entered the room.

Then the reason became clear.

A child, no more than seven or eight, lay curled up in the corner of the room.

His small back was covered in bright red whip marks.

The floor was littered with thick books – legal codes, historical texts – and papers and pens tossed about in disarray.

Priest Dier sighed softly as he approached the boy.

“We pay our respects to His Highness, the First Prince.”

‘This little child is the First Prince? But why is he in such a state…?’

The boy didn’t turn around. He just remained curled up in silence.

“Then I will begin the treatment.”

Just as Priest Dier reached out his hand to the boy to begin the healing –

“…!”

-Another small hand reached out first and touched the boy’s back.

A soft golden light began to flow from its fingertips.

“Wha…”

A small gasp escaped Priest Dier’s lips at the incredible sight.

Although Helien had grown up in the temple due to certain circumstances, even at the age of ten he had never shown any signs of divine power.

Normally, such a child would spend its life as a servant to the priests and clergy. But now, suddenly – and starting with a high level of healing power, no less – his divine power had manifested.

It was an unprecedented event.

“This is… impossible…”

The wounds on the boy’s back began to heal with astonishing speed. Even at a glance, Priest Dier could see that the power far exceeded his own. He could only stare in disbelief.

Ironically, the boy performing the miracle looked calm and composed, as if he had always known that this power would one day awaken.

As the treatment drew to a close, the small, stooped figure slowly raised his head. His bright blue eyes, meeting the face of a stranger for the first time, quickly filled with caution.

Helien lowered his hand shyly. The boy’s back was already completely healed.

“Crown… Prince, I am Helien, of the Great Temple of Imona.”

“He… Helien?”

For a brief moment, Priest Dier felt that the two of them bore a striking resemblance – but he didn’t dare say it out loud.

In any case, it all began that day.

The day Helien went from temple errand boy to novice priest.

The day he became Rabion’s personal healer.

Everything started from that moment.

❖ ❖ ❖

“Ouch.”

“Are you all right?”

While Helien was lost in thought, something must have gone wrong with the treatment. At the sudden sting, Rabion’s expression changed slightly and Helien quickly checked the wound with a worried expression.

“You seemed a little distracted.”

Rabion said, narrowing his eyes playfully.

That smile – somehow it seemed tinged with sadness.

Helien met his gaze and held it calmly.

The boy who had survived countless brushes with death and finally ascended to the throne.

On the outside he looked unshakable.

But inside he was still the same boy, deeply wounded and quietly enduring.

The countless scars that had yet to heal were still clearly visible to Helien. He knew that one day those scars would become poison. That thought always haunted him. If only he could erase even those traces completely…

“It is done.”

The treatment was soon over. Rabion looked down at his now smooth right hand with a face full of renewed admiration.

“At this rate, you could probably bring the dead back to life.”

“Life and death are matters for the divine alone. Please refrain from such blasphemous words, Your Majesty.”

Helien said with a sincerely stern expression.

“For someone like you, your faith seems surprisingly devout at times.”

“I will have you know, I am the next High Priest, Your Majesty.”

Helien replied, shrugging slightly at the Emperor’s teasing tone.

“Regardless, thank you.”

“My only regret is that I can only heal physical wounds.”

At these words, something in Rabion’s heart pricked slightly, and a bitter smile flickered on his lips.

“Anyway, how is the Empress?”

Rabion raised his now-healed hand and took a sip from the tea in front of him.

“She’s just tired and needs to rest. There’s nothing particularly wrong with her.”

“That may be, but she’s been asleep for more than a full day.”

Rabion murmured, his eyes narrowing in doubt at Helien’s answer.

Night had already fallen. If she’d been asleep since the previous evening, it was clear that this was no ordinary case.

“She seemed quite exhausted. I helped to restore her energy and treated a small wound on her lip. I’ve done all I can.”

Only then did Rabion nod slightly, finally satisfied with the answer. He quietly took another sip of his tea, then suddenly raised his gaze – his expression growing serious as he looked directly at Helien.

To be continued in the next volume of “I Married the Emperor Who Killed Me.” 💔👑