“Your Highness?”

I stared blankly into space, and the maids looked at me in puzzlement. The senior lady-in-waiting, in charge of the Empress’s care, wore a similarly questioning expression. I clenched my face tight to keep from looking stunned.

[That’s right! Yes!]

A man—no doubt the Empress’s guardian aura—stood by the windowpane, cheering wildly. Outside, the Royal Guard was engaged in drills. He watched as though at a sports broadcast, utterly enthralled.

‘This is strange.’

I scanned the other guardian auras to gauge the Empress’s condition. When their human fell ill, the auras waned; if their charge died, they vanished into darkness to await rebirth in a new vessel. They panicked with fear and agitation. Yet the Empress’s aura brimmed with energy.

[Honestly, I knew that scamp would slack off—couldn’t even last three minutes, ha.]

He clicked his tongue as if he were a coach chastising a player.

‘What on earth...?’

I longed to ask his reason, but all eyes were fixed on me. I couldn’t speak to the guardians here—they’d think me mad. Or worse, someone might suspect I wield the Messiah’s power.

“Your Highness, do you feel unwell?”

A maid with brown hair and a composed air addressed me. I knew her—when I was still a commoner, she’d stood out for her earnestness.

“Shall I fetch a physician if you feel ill?”

A small maid with curly ginger-orange hair asked cheerfully. She had guided me into the Empress’s chambers; lively and talkative, I’d easily remembered her name: Ginger.

The senior lady-in-waiting nodded.

“If there is anything we can do, please let us know.”

“No—only my heart aches that Her Majesty cannot open her eyes.”

I forced a look of sympathetic concern. Lena, Ginger, and the senior lady sighed and lowered their heads.

“I hear she fell ill only six months after ascending,” Ginger said with a sorrowful face. Lena patted her back.

“She must awaken soon.”

“Yes....”

The senior lady heaved a sigh.

“She was a remarkable lady. When I entered service alongside Ginger and Lena, the first person I served was Her Majesty the Empress.”

“I see.”

“After Consort Ocelia gave birth to Prince Salvatore, the Consort’s palace brimmed with triumph. Yet the Empress never wavered—so upright, she could not ignore the smallest breach of propriety.”

I appeared to listen as I watched the guardian aura. Turned away from the maids’ voices, it snorted and glanced at them.

[Quite the talker.]

It muttered.

‘Who? Who’s a talker?’

The maids clearly intended to keep me company. Of course: if anything went awry, none of us would escape unharmed.

I would have to return later. Inspecting a patient with a similar condition first might shed light on the Empress’s ailment. With a polite farewell—“I wish the Empress good fortune”—I departed and headed straight to the infirmary for rare diseases.

Upon my arrival, the director and medical staff bustled out to greet me.

“Oh, Your Highness!”

The director bowed so deeply he seemed about to break in two.

“Nobles with conditions mirroring the Empress are here. We study them to aid Her Majesty.”

“Please, lead the way.”

I followed him to the wards.

‘As expected, the other auras are frantic.’

They wailed, bit their nails until white, and trembled in fear.

‘Only the Empress’s aura stands apart.’

It held firm, as if certain she would not die.

I narrowed my eyes.

A few days later, I returned to the Empress Dowager’s palace. Feigning concern for her unsettled mind, I chatted until the topic I sought emerged.

“Salvatore has pressed the issue. He demands the Empress’s seal be handed to the Consort.”

“How unfortunate. If Her Majesty the Empress awakens, matters would surely change. Hence, Your Majesty—”

“Yes?”

“What is the precise diagnosis of the Empress’s illness?”

The Empress Dowager hesitated. The health of the royal family was a state secret; disclosure could sow chaos.

‘No wonder business tycoons hide ailments.’

A company’s stock tumbles on its leader’s poor health. For a ruling dynasty, secrecy was paramount. A rare disease might be deemed divine abandonment.

‘Well, the Empress’s decade-long collapse was inevitably known—but never its cause.’

The Dowager glanced at her ladies. Quick to read the room, they bowed and filed out. Alone with me, she spoke.

“Madoc.”

“Madoc?!”

Madoc—the same malady afflicting Cainrod and his mother?

“But Madoc is...!”

I gasped; she nodded gravely.

“Yes—an ailment born of golden arts.”

“Has Her Majesty been using alchemy?”

“I cannot say. Only that the physicians diagnosed it thus...James,” she added.

“James who spirited away Prince Alexis and abetted Consort Annamaria’s death?!”

“Yes. After that affair, doubts arose—perhaps the Empress’s ailment is not Madoc after all.”

We both muttered the same name.

“Consort Ocelia.”

“Consort Ocelia.”

The prime suspect. I leaned close.

“Your Majesty, I can cure Madoc.”

“What?”

The Dowager’s face stiffened.

“How could that be possible? No one in centuries—nay, a millennium—has found a cure for Madoc!”

“And yet I can.”

“Good heavens.”

She pressed her forehead, astonished.

“Could there be such a savior?”

She framed my face in her hands.

“Child, you truly are the Empire’s Saintess!”

“I—um—so, if I may say...”

My words came muffled under her grip. She patted my cheeks as if I were the most adorable creature.

“Very well.”

“First we must confirm it is Madoc. May I visit the Empress’s palace again today?”

“Only today. But tomorrow as well.”

She laughed, then ruffled my hair affectionately.

“I shall grant you permanent access.”

“Perhaps a private audience? The maids... make me uneasy.”

“You suspect Ibron, Lena, and Ginger?”

“Does Your Majesty know them well?”

“I appointed them personally. All honorable and diligent. Yet human nature shifts with circumstance.”

“Though no clear cause for concern has emerged, I wish to be cautious.”

“Very well—if need be, name me to them.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

I beamed, bowed, and immediately returned to the Empress’s palace.

But it was chaotic. Unlike before, a commotion erupted.

“How is the court physician? Lena!”

“She’s passed the threshold,” Ginger reported.

“Fetch a wet cloth! We must cool her fever!”

“Yes!”

I seized Ginger, who was racing with water and towels.

“By the Dowager’s orders, I’ve come to examine Her Majesty. What has happened?”

“Well... I do not know. Her complexion worsened since yesterday... and today she seized!”

A seizure? I hurried into the chamber. Hearing I came by the Dowager’s decree, the maids made no move to bar me.

[Open your eyes, please! Byair! Byair!]

The once-aloof guardian aura now stood pale, chanting the Empress’s name.

I examined the Empress.

‘This rash... it is a hallmark of Madoc.’

Such eruptions had never before appeared.

‘Then this means...’

I turned to the maids—Senior Ibron, Lena, and Ginger—who stared helplessly.

‘Since my last visit, someone has done something to Her Majesty.’

Only those three had unsupervised access to the Empress’s person. The culprit was among them. The guardian aura knew the truth.

‘But I cannot expel the maids and interrogate them here—’

If the Empress’s condition declined only after my visits, I risk being blamed. I let out a silent, bitter laugh.

‘And I should just ignore it?’

Absurd. Even if I could not speak with the aura, I possessed other means.

“Please inform the Dowager of the situation. I will relay the message. In the meantime, you three attend Her Majesty.”

“Yes....”

I slipped out, pocketed my communication stone, and crept to a corridor alcove.

[Yes, child?]

The Dowager’s voice came through.

“Secretly weaken the northern wards of the Empress’s palace. Her condition is deteriorating. Begin treatment at once.”

Yes—treatment. It would begin with excising the rot at the palace’s core.

[In five minutes, I shall lift the wards.]

“Understood.”

I ended the call and, consulting my pocket watch, waited. At the exact moment, I invoked my blessing—!

Though maddeningly overdue—ten years the Empress lay fallen—no one had replaced her?! The Interior Minister’s post in my country remained open ten years; the realm yet stood! The Empress is not the Interior Minister, right? The heroine uses nothing but her looks—if not a fiancée, she’d be dead by now, lol! Oh, Alexis is so handsome he’s the best? Hahaha. Salvatore’s insane.

I skimmed the comments in disgust.

‘They’ve switched to Alexis as the protagonist, and comments have thinned out. Need anything?’

I cut off my power and marched back to the Empress’s chamber.

The court physicians had arrived, and the maids urgently reported her state.

“Please examine her! What has happened? She was well until—”

“She worsened after Lady Astra’s visit,” one stammered.

They fussed over the Empress while I slipped beside one maid.

“She was described as upright, yes?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“And someone who could never tolerate impropriety?”

“Yes...”

I gave that maid a cold smile. The one who entered service while the Empress was healthy—and who stayed by her side for ten years... Senior Ibron.

‘It’s you.’

Late at night.

Clad in a deep black hood, Ibron fled the Empress’s palace. Her communication stone flickered incessantly as she ran. Irritated, she answered it.

“I told you to stop contacting me.”

[But, sister~]

Her much younger lover cooed.

[The loan sharks came even to the mansion.]

“What? Those scoundrels dare... do they not know I am head lady-in-waiting to the Empress?”

[I informed them. Yet still they came—threatening to go before the palace gates if unpaid.]

They threatened the palace gates?

‘No!’

Her decades of diligent service, her image—ruined. The Dowager would banish her. That her humble birth and lack of special gifts let her become head lady, known for loyal fidelity, would be undone.

[Ahem, Lady Ibron. It’s been some time.]

The moneylender’s voice.

[If repayment delays further, we have no choice.]

“Do you lend only once? Do you know how much I lost in your gambling house? You have no flexibility!”

[Flexibility comes after delays. When will you repay? We need not only interest but principal.]

“...Wait.”

[If delays persist—]

“I said wait! I have a source of funds soon.”

The day I receive that money draws near.

‘Once I have it, I cut ties.’

I would abandon my loathsome service and live peacefully abroad.

Ending the call, Ibron’s eyes gleamed.

“Yes—no more delay.”

Erilot Astra’s eyes flickered as if she sensed something. At this rate, my head would roll.

Ibron raced for her rendezvous, but—

“Where do you think you’re rushing off to?”

A familiar voice behind her. Ibron froze, then—

Click. Click-click. Click!

Lights snapped on around her; soldiers flooded into the courtyard.

And standing before them... Ibron’s face drained of color.