Chapter 23

Lena’s POV

I stepped out of the prison building, the weight of the conversation with Commander Alric pressing down on me. My hand brushed against the stone railing as I paused, letting out a long, measured sigh.

“This is… quite troublesome,” I whispered to myself.

A sudden gust of wind swept across the open field, tugging at my dress. I lifted my gaze. The sky had darkened, thick clouds rolling in like ink across the horizon. It really was the heart of the rainy season.

And my thoughts immediately shifted to Tungsten.

The city had barely begun to recover from the tsunami. Now, with the storms gathering, I could feel the pulse of danger threading through my mind. Its river, the one that connected directly to the ocean, left it vulnerable to floods every time the rain fell heavy. The last storm had been mercifully short, but there was no guarantee the next one would show such mercy.

I tightened my grip on the railing, eyes narrowing.

The riverbanks must be reinforced—immediately. Before the heavy rains takes its toll.

I also have to figure out how to assign new patrol forces to the land. It’s practically deserted—no civil presence to speak of.

And Miu… she won’t be enough for long. I’ll need to find the right people to restore administration, too—capable, loyal, and steady under pressure.

But then I realized, evening had fallen, the sun almost gone.

Okay. Tomorrow morning. I’ll tackle all of that tomorrow morning.

I started walking back toward the main palace building, my dress flapping in the wind, but my mind didn’t slow. Crops that could be cultivated quickly would need to be distributed. Workers for construction—where would I find them, and how many would I need? I should consult a map of the land first, figure out where everything would go.

I stopped mid-step, pressing a hand to my forehead.

“Blast it,” I muttered under my breath. “How’d I end up like this?”

Miu had already begun the first steps in Tungsten. She will be handling the city, the people, the logistics. I could allow myself to focus on other matters of the kingdom without hovering over every detail.

“You’re back?”

The voice pulled me from my thoughts. I looked up to see Miu standing by the entrance.

Her… These troublesome thoughts are all because of her.

“I took care of some important matters,” I said as I continued walking past her. I just wanted to reach my room and take a warm bath before bed.

“I see… I have something to discuss—”

Her voice followed me, but I noticed her face—flushed, a faint sheen on her skin.

“Ummp!”

I stopped abruptly. She bumped into my back, and instinctively I turned. Her nose wrinkled in surprise, her eyes wide and flustered.

“Miss Miu.” I frowned, reaching out to steady her.

“Come here.” I gently guided her face toward mine and rested my forehead against hers. She flinched slightly.

Her warmth hit me immediately.

“You… you have a fever,” I muttered with a sharpened tone.

I pulled back, frowning. “Can’t you tell when your body is sick?” I hissed, a sharp edge under my worry.

“You have to take care of yourself if you want to work on rehabilitating Tungsten,” I continued, voice low but firm. “Overworking yourself isn’t diligence—it’s foolishness.”

She just stood there, staring blankly at me.

I exhaled, the corners of my mouth tightening. “Tsk. Hurry up and go to bed before your fever gets any worse.”

–

Miu’s POV

I stood frozen, watching Lena’s back disappear down the corridor.

W-what… was that?

Is it because I have a fever?

I slowly lifted my hands and cupped my cheeks. They felt strangely numb, as if the warmth in them didn’t belong to me at all. My skin was still tingling where her hands had been, where our foreheads had touched.

Why does my chest feel so tight…?

–

“Your fever’s gone up,” Daliah said softly as she placed a cold, damp towel over my forehead.

I flinched at the touch, a small shiver running through me beneath the thick layers of blankets. My limbs felt unbearably heavy, as if someone had filled them with sand while I wasn’t looking. I don’t understand… I’d been fine. I felt fine all day.

Or so I thought…

“T-thank you, Daliah…” I murmured, my voice barely louder than a breath.

She sighed, the sound close—too close—like a worried presence hovering at my bedside.
“Young lady… you shouldn’t have pushed yourself just because you felt better for a while. The royal doctor clearly said you needed extensive rest for a full week. It’s only been six days, and yet you were already walking around, exhausting yourself since yesterday…”

Her words drifted over me, each sentence slower than the last, as though they were sinking into water before they could reach me properly.

I wanted to respond but my lips wouldn’t move anymore.

The room felt distant, the edges of my vision blurring as the warmth in my body burned and chilled me at the same time. Daliah’s voice softened, fading into something gentle and far away.

I kept my eyes closed, but the world refused to fade completely.

“The exhaustion and the wound on her neck must have caused the fever,” Daliah said, her voice calm but heavy with concern. “I’ve given her medicine for the fever and the inflammation. She should just rest for now.”

This time… I knew she wasn’t speaking to me.

It was quiet for a moment—so quiet I could hear my own shallow breathing, uneven and warm in my chest.

“Tsk. Stubborn,” another voice muttered.

Lena’s.

“You’ve done well, Daliah. You may go now,” Lena continued, her tone composed, but I could hear something else beneath it—something restrained.

“You must rest as well, Your Highness,” Daliah replied gently.

Then came the sound of footsteps retreating, followed by the soft click of the door closing behind her.

Silence settled into the room.

“You’re a very troublesome woman.”

Lena’s voice reached me through the haze.

I drew in a shallow breath as I forced my eyes open. The world swam—her silhouette blurred at the edges, standing beside my bed.

“I–I asked Daliah to prepare the rooms…” My voice came out weak, broken by shivers I couldn’t stop. “The Duke’s… and his comrades’…”

My throat felt dry, but I pushed on anyway.

“I wanted to ask you first,” I murmured, “But you weren’t around, so… I just went ahead.”

I gathered what little strength I had left and looked at her, offering a faint, almost apologetic smile.

“Is… is that alright?”

For a heartbeat, she didn’t answer.

My vision dimmed, the edges of the room melting into shadow. My eyelids grew unbearably heavy, as if sleep itself was dragging me under by force.

Before I could hear her response—everything went black.