Chapter 46
I didn’t know how I had come to possess that power, or how to use it.
After that day, I had never once thought of trying to summon that strength again.
Of course, it was only natural—I wanted to erase that memory, to forget it completely. The moment I became aware that such a power existed within me, a long-dormant anxiety began to grow and grow.
Why did I, of all people, have the power that should have belonged to the heroine? Even asking that question frightened me.
It felt as if this world itself was demanding that I take Ji Eun-ha’s place—and I knew that the moment I accepted that role, I would never be able to leave this land again.
I had been terrified and in denial all this time, but now was not the moment for fear.
I couldn’t ignore someone lying unconscious and suffering because of me. I wasn’t shameless enough to look the other way and live in comfort.
Maybe I can heal him. I cured an epidemic in an instant, didn’t I?
I took a deep breath and clenched my fist tightly.
Then, focusing all my strength into my fingertips, I thrust my hand forward as if launching a burst of energy.
Please—heal this man!
With my eyes tightly shut, I didn’t forget to cry out my wish in my heart, just as I had that time before.
I imagined a blinding light bursting from my fingertips and slowly opened my eyes—but…
Huh?
There wasn’t even a speck of light—nothing, not even a particle of dust.
Startled, I pulled my hand back and examined my palm.
What? Why isn’t it working?
Flustered, I looked up, half in disbelief.
Rixion Luhanes’s face came into view—he was fast asleep, his features twisted in pain.
Quietly, I approached his bed again. After a moment of hesitation, I reached out.
With slow, trembling fingers, I took hold of his limp hand.
His palm burned with fever. Holding it tightly, I pressed my forehead gently against the back of his hand.
“Please. Don’t let him suffer anymore.”
And once more, I spoke my wish aloud with all my heart.
In that instant—whoosh!—a brilliant light spread out through my hand, exactly like the one I’d seen before.
Even though it wasn’t the first time, I still opened my eyes wide in shock.
It’s working!
The light from my hand enveloped Rixion Luhanes’s entire body.
I watched as the light spiraled toward his heart, as if it instinctively knew where his body was most damaged.
Mesmerized, I blinked.
Suddenly, my eyelids grew heavy, as if weighed down by something enormous. My head drooped.
A primal thought flickered—I can’t fall asleep yet. Not yet…
The light wasn’t enough. I could tell he wasn’t completely healed yet. His face was only just beginning to look peaceful, and the heat in his hand was only now fading. If I fell asleep now, I felt like something terrible would happen.
But I’m so sleepy…
I wanted to fight it, but my body wouldn’t listen.
The moment I thought I couldn’t hold out any longer, I collapsed forward, my body going limp.
Unable to resist the oncoming drowsiness, I fell asleep—using Rixion Luhanes’s hand as a pillow.
“Get that thing out of my sight—now!”
It had been a mistake.
The fear had come from the burning heat that seemed to boil up inside my body. When I awoke from my torment, alone in a vast and empty room, I had been so terrified I could have died.
I just wanted someone—anyone—to stay beside me.
To hold my hand, to tell me it was okay, that I’d be all right. To comfort me. To pat my head and rub my back.
So I broke my promise. I destroyed the locked door with magic and ran outside.
Silver hair, shining like starlight, whipped through the air. A pair of delicate fingers seized a handful of that hair, clutching it as if to rip it out.
The beautiful woman’s face contorted into a mask of hatred as she screamed at me. Twisting and writhing, she let out a shriek.
A man rushed toward her, calling her name in panic.
“Mariela!”
“No! No, it’s not! It’s not true!”
Despite his efforts to restrain her, she thrashed like a madwoman, screaming over and over.
The child—me—cowered in fear.
The sound hurt. I didn’t want to hear it. So I covered my ears. I didn’t want to see her face, so I shut my eyes.
“That monster is not my child!”
The woman pointed at the child with the same hand that had just torn at her own hair.
Her voice, once as pure as a canary’s song, now grated like scraping metal. The face that had been praised as the most beautiful in the Empire twisted into something demonic.
Even with my ears covered, I could still hear her voice. Even with my eyes closed, I could still see her clearly.
So the child lowered her hands and opened her eyes—and looked straight at her.
The only person who had brought her into this world. Her mother.
It was a loathsome dream.
It no longer stirred any emotion in him, yet it still clung to him relentlessly, refusing to let go.
As consciousness returned, Rixion let out a low, bitter laugh.
He had almost forgotten this dream—he rarely dreamed at all these days—but once in a while, it would resurface like this, souring his mood.
Slowly, Rixion opened his eyes and instinctively tried to raise a hand to his face.
But for some reason, his hand wouldn’t move freely—it felt as if something were holding it down.
Puzzled, he looked toward his right hand.
The first thing that caught his eye was a cascade of golden hair glittering in the morning sunlight.
Then he heard the faint, rhythmic sound of breathing.
Blinking in confusion, Rixion stared blankly at the sight before him.
There, clutching his right hand as if it were her lifeline, was Elizabeth Christener—fast asleep.
For a moment, he wondered if he was still dreaming.
The situation felt utterly unreal—this woman, who normally avoided him like the plague, was here, in his room, asleep beside him, holding his hand.
When he leaned forward to look at her face more closely, something cool slipped from his forehead and fell.
It was a damp towel.
So I had a fever, he thought. Someone must have soaked a towel in cold water and laid it on my forehead.
Losing interest in the towel, Rixion looked back at Elizabeth.
She was still sound asleep, unaware that he had woken up.
He had many questions—why she was here, why she had fallen asleep like this—but at the same time, he found himself reluctant to wake her.
He rather liked this moment—being able to quietly look at her without anyone interfering, feeling her small hand wrapped around his.
But soon, he shook his head, dismissing the thought, and spoke.
“Lady Christener.”
He decided to wake her—not because of discomfort from her presence, but because her sleeping posture looked awkward and painful.
Her arm and legs must be going numb, he thought. Even if it meant disturbing her rest, he wanted her to sleep somewhere more comfortable.
Yet, when he called her name, there was no response.
He tugged gently on the hand she was holding—but still nothing.
He called again, louder this time, even shook her lightly by the shoulder. Still no reaction.
Rixion’s expression hardened. His relaxed demeanor vanished as he hastily pulled off the blanket and sat up.
With his free hand, he grasped her arm and tried to lift her.
“Lady Christener!”
Even then, she didn’t wake.
She only moved limply as he handled her, her eyes remaining closed.
He had seen this before.
When Elizabeth had lost consciousness in the carriage filled with plague victims—no matter how he had called her, she wouldn’t wake up.
He remembered his panic then, his desperate rush to the physician, only to be told that she had simply fallen asleep.
Her current state was exactly the same—and that made him frown.
Was it normal for someone to collapse into sleep like this? Could this be happening often?
Looking down at her with a grave face, Rixion finally got to his feet.
Then he noticed something odd—movement felt restricted. When he glanced down, he saw magic restraints fastened around his wrists and ankles.
Only then did Rixion begin to understand what had happened.
