Chapter 58
The letter, written in Aziz’s neat, familiar handwriting, began with the usual polite greetings.
— How are you, Lady Ishtar? I believe this is the first time I’ve sent you a letter.
You’ve worked hard honing your skills by my side.
You have grown far beyond my expectations.
There’s almost nothing more I can teach you. You truly deserve praise.
I rubbed my eyelids with my fingers and muttered to myself.
“Arin, did something get in my eye?”
“Huh? Um… let me see. No, I don’t think so. Why?”
“I’m just wondering if my eyesight suddenly got worse.”
Aziz—the man whose motto might as well be arrogance incarnate—was actually giving me the highest praise imaginable? The sun must have risen in the west today.
I pulled the letter closer to my face and continued reading. The rest was even more surprising.
— Therefore, you no longer need to come see me from today onward.
From now on, it would be best for you to learn by facing the world directly.
I’ll be away for a while myself, so even if hardships come, I hope you overcome them on your own.
Enclosed is a small gift. It will help delay your transformation into a cat for a little while when you’re out in the world.
I wish you good fortune.
“What the what?”
In short, he was saying he wouldn’t be helping me anymore—so I should handle things myself.
And not to visit him, because he’d be gone for a while? I couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief.
‘What kind of irresponsible teacher does that?!’
Even a mother cat eventually leaves her kittens to survive on their own—but still, this felt a bit much.
“What’s wrong? What does it say?”
Arin’s bright eyes were full of curiosity.
But my mind was too tangled to give a proper answer; I could only let out a long sigh.
‘He could’ve just told me this in person. Why write a letter for something so important?’
Truth be told, I had sensed that something was off with Aziz lately.
He’d shown open hostility toward Suleiman… and acted strangely when he talked about his own past, as if even he didn’t remember it clearly.
He’d always been an odd man, but his recent behavior had become outright inconsistent.
Still, after spending so much time together, I’d learned one thing—Aziz thought of me as someone very special.
Perhaps even more so than the prince Suleiman or even Hürrem herself.
He was a man who seemed utterly cold-blooded, but with me, he often showed glimpses of emotion and vulnerability.
And every time that happened, he looked like someone showing a half-healed wound—pained, ashamed, and desperate to hide it.
Almost as if he was afraid I’d notice.
“…I really don’t get him anymore.”
You can’t see into another person’s heart, they say.
So how could I possibly understand a man who’d lived for hundreds of years like some immortal sage?
Letting out a long sigh, I sank into the soft seat of the carriage and gazed out the window at the changing scenery.
***
It took about half an hour after leaving the palace to reach the infirmary.
The facility, built from what used to be a mosque, stood just outside the city center—its white dome and tall spire gleaming impressively against the sky.
I craned my neck to look up at the spire, easily the height of a ten-story apartment building.
“So this is the infirmary? It’s fancier than I expected.”
“This place was once the grandest temple of Ashtar in the capital,” Iblan explained. “But since the number of patients has risen sharply, His Majesty has opened it to the common people.”
Heh. So Hürrem was doing some good work after all.
Once he finished speaking, Iblan gestured to his guards, signaling for all but three to stay behind and secure the perimeter.
“Arin, what will you do? It might take some time… do you want to wait here?”
Arin quickly shook her head.
“No, it’s fine. It’ll just be boring out here anyway. I’ll go with you and Iblan.”
Right, I’d forgotten—Arin and Iblan were siblings.
I was just thinking how little they resembled each other—in both looks and temperament—when I noticed something familiar in Arin’s arms.
‘Hey, that’s my cat basket.’
The one made to fit my feline size, complete with a tiny blanket inside. Arin must have brought it along, her expression tinged with tension.
Only then did I realize how worried she must be.
‘Well, I can’t blame her.’
Even though I’d reached a stable phase in maintaining my human form, being far from Suleiman—and the palace—still carried risks.
The infirmary was about an hour away, and if I suddenly transformed into a cat again, it could be a disaster.
“Don’t worry. Aziz gave me a gemstone that helps me stay human longer. I’ll be fine.”
“Really? Whew, then that’s a relief.”
Arin visibly relaxed and let out a breath.
At that moment, Iblan—having just finished checking the surroundings—walked up to us.
“We’ll enter the infirmary through the prayer hall. It’s closed to the public, so please follow me. It’ll be a bit of a walk.”
“Got it.”
I nodded and followed him with Arin at my side.
The inside of the grand temple of Ashtar was breathtaking.
Golden mosaics glittered from every wall, and thousands of candles hung from massive Arabic chandeliers.
Black obsidian columns rose toward the dome, exuding a foreign, majestic beauty.
I was so captivated by the sight that I barely noticed when Iblan stopped in front of a huge metal door.
“Beyond this door is the infirmary proper,” he warned. “There are many wounded and sick inside. Prepare yourself—it’s not a pleasant sight.”
As soon as he finished, the heavy door creaked open.
What lay beyond was a world utterly different from the sacred temple we had just passed through.
“Oh my god…”
The hall was deafeningly loud—filled with groans, shouting, and the bustle of hundreds of people.
Beds were scarce, so patients lay on the floor atop rough blankets, while attendants in white hurried between them.
But even at a glance, it was clear—there weren’t nearly enough healers for everyone.
“Emergency patient! Make way!”
A man’s shout cut through the noise, and the chaos deepened.
The new arrival was a heavily injured, heavily pregnant woman.
The cloth covering her was soaked through with blood—it looked dire.
‘I have to help her.’
Even without knowing the exact medical level of this kingdom, it was obvious it lagged far behind the modern world.
The moment I saw her being rushed toward a room, my feet moved on their own.
“You shouldn’t, Lady Ishtar,” Iblan warned sharply. “What you’ll see inside might be… unpleasant.”
“Please move aside. I came here to help these people. If I turn away now, what was the point of coming?”
My answer seemed to stun him—he just blinked, speechless.
I ignored him and strode straight into the crowd.
With no veil, only the hood of my cloak to shadow my face, I drew plenty of curious stares.
Then again, I was flanked by four armed guards—it was to be expected.
Most were too preoccupied with their patients to care, but one small girl noticed.
“Wow, Daddy, look at that lady’s hair! It’s all shiny and silver! So pretty…”
“Shh, don’t get close. Those scary men are guarding her.”
The child’s wide eyes met mine. I smiled gently, and her round cheeks flushed pink.
Feeling her gaze on my back, I entered what looked like the emergency ward—just in time to hear a woman’s scream.
“Please! I don’t care what happens to me—just save my baby!”
“Damn it, too much bleeding! Get more hemostatic herbs!”
The pregnant woman clutched at anyone nearby, her voice cracking with desperation.
It was clear she no longer cared about her own pain—only the life inside her.
For all my courage walking in, the sight made me freeze.
My legs trembled, my throat went dry.
Still, I forced myself forward, toward the bed.
“Who are you? Only emergency staff are allowed in here! Leave at once!”
“I’m not a patient,” I said quickly. “I’m a cleric sent from the palace. I can help treat her.”
“A cleric? You?” The older man frowned. “You look barely of age. I don’t buy it.”
Before I could answer, Iblan stepped in front of me, his voice firm and cold.
“I am Iblan, governor of this city and aide to His Highness, Prince Suleiman.
I personally vouch for this cleric’s identity. This is an emergency, but mind your manners.”
