TKWPAP 61

CHAPTER61………….

“May the blessing of the Divine rest upon you, my lady.”

The devout priests’ blessing rained down in silver light upon the Marquis of Toir’s graying hair.

When the priest passed, the Marquis of Toir solemnly opened the eyes she had kept shut.

Cough! She could no longer suppress the cough she had been holding back.

Once it started, the coughing would not stop. At last, the elderly lady covered her mouth with a handkerchief, leaned on her maid’s support, and left the prayer room.

Once outside the central temple, she felt the chill. The season had long since turned warm, yet her weakened body found even the spring sunlight cold.

Clutching her dizzy forehead, made lightheaded from not being able to eat properly, the Marquis of Toir walked toward her waiting carriage.

“My lady, I gathered many cherries today. They’re small, but surely sweet.”

Another attendant maid hurried over with a basket filled with bright red fruit.

It had already been half a year since they secretly started collecting fruit from the temple garden.

Her body, corrupted by magic power, had lost its balance. She could no longer eat food unless it came from trees that had been purified by the temple.

Fruits untouched by magic power.

Though originally intended as offerings to the Divine, now they were her lifeline.

If food contained even the faintest trace of mana, the Marquis of Toir could not swallow it.

She had tried secretly calling in priests to purify food during cooking, but it was useless.

The priests had told her that unless one possessed abnormally high levels of holy power, purifying food for direct consumption was nearly impossible.

It all began with that inspection of the northeastern mine.

She had personally visited to oversee her business expansion. There, she met with disaster.

The weakened ground around the mine collapsed, and she had the misfortune of falling into a hole.

Worse still, the hole had formed in a place of extremely high magical density. In an instant, she had been contaminated by magic power.

Had the holy mages not given her emergency treatment on the spot, she would have died.

She barely returned alive, but the illness did not leave her.

Uncertain when her condition would worsen, she had to constantly wear expensive, consecrated holy artifacts and restrict what she ate.

At this rate, it’s not the seizures from magic contamination that will kill me, but starvation.

Her frail, aging body cried out from lack of nourishment.

When she finally arrived back at the Toir estate, still fighting nausea from the carriage ride—

“My lady, a guest awaits in the drawing room.”

“Didn’t I order that all visitors be turned away for the time being?”

With a weary voice, the Marquis of Toir waved her frail hand. Everything had become burdensome.

Once, in honor of the late Empress Theresia, she had sought to revive the Imperial Faction’s splendor.

But the Emperor, suspecting the Empress of infidelity, stubbornly discriminated against the two princes and would flare into rage at the mere mention of the deposed Empress’s name.

To protect the Imperial Faction from collapsing, the Marquis of Toir busied herself in society.

Outwardly, she pretended to be a carefree old woman with no grievances against the Emperor’s conduct.

Given her influence in high society, it was somewhat effective.

But she had not been able to do even that for months.

The First Prince, left alone, still weighed on her mind, yet she was far too old to throw herself recklessly into protecting him now.

And with her illness keeping her from even attending the Empress Consort’s tea parties, entertaining guests seemed absurd.

“It is… the young master of Eurean.”

“The Marquis of Eurean’s heir?”

Wrinkles creased the Marquis of Toir’s forehead.

What scheme brought the heir of the Magic Tower here, of all places? He was not one to waste a trip.

She did not particularly dislike Luis Eurean, but she knew well his precocious cunning and shameless social tact.

He must have known about her illness long ago—why come to her estate only now?

When she entered the drawing room with the help of her cane, she found the smooth-faced mage waiting.

Even so, as the leader of the Imperial Faction, she could not show weakness. She dismissed her maid’s support.

Staggering slightly, she seated herself and, catching her breath, opened the conversation.

“Lord Luis. Isn’t it rather late to be paying a sick call?”

“I should have come sooner, but it seemed you did not wish for visitors, so I refrained.”

Luis smiled dryly, placing a hand on his chest in polite greeting.

“Well then, speak. A mage of the Tower wouldn’t come without purpose. Unless you mean to watch an old woman wither away?”

“It isn’t me who comes. Another wished to meet you. I’m only here as their proxy.”

“A proxy?”

The word hardly fit Luis Eurean.

“Since when have you ever stood as another’s proxy?”

The Marquis of Toir frowned, telling him not to speak nonsense.

“I assure you, it’s true. That person sincerely wishes for your recovery.”

“My recovery? What, has the heir of Eurean—who prided himself on neutrality—decided to play lapdog for the Imperial Faction?”

She coughed and winced, her tone bitter from pain.

Realizing she was losing composure, she tightened her grip on her cane and rose from her chair.

“My words just now were careless. This is not a good time. Come again later.”

“But my client’s gift may be of help to you, my lady.”

Luis placed his hand on a large chest that sat on the table, then opened it with a click.

Inside lay a roasted turkey and buttered bread, steaming on a white plate.

Her hand trembled slightly at the sight—after surviving half a year on nothing but fruit.

But recognizing the chest as a consecrated holy artifact, she sighed.

“Holy artifacts are of no use. Even with those, there are limits to food purification.”

“My lady, I don’t waste my steps.”

Luis’s faint smile suggested she should trust his client.

Her eyes did not leave the food.

Truth be told, at this point, even food tainted with mana seemed tempting. Anything would do.

The illness had gradually worn down the once-proud, unyielding woman.

“If this food harms you, I’ll be the first suspected.”

Luis reassured her lightly.

“…And yet you’d wriggle your way out of it.”

Though sharp in retort, she obediently sat before the table again.

She didn’t trust the mage’s loyalty—but she trusted the accuracy of his information.

With her frail hand, she picked up the heavy fork and slowly began to eat.

“What is this…?”

Still alive after swallowing the food, she asked Luis in shock.

“Let me rephrase—who exactly is this client of yours?”

Her voice, stronger now, pressed him for an answer.

“Even the central priests gave up. They all said it was nearly impossible to purify food enough for me to eat safely.”

Luis, still faintly smiling, stood and pulled a letter from inside his coat.

“If you’re curious, ask all you like. I’ll relay your words in proxy. Whether you receive an answer—I cannot say.”

Handing her the letter, Luis added:

“If you wish for friendship with my client, open this letter. If not, burn it—no one else will ever know its contents.”

“And what is your judgment?”

“My judgment?”

Luis adjusted his cravat with a question in return.

“Don’t play coy. You’ve already read this, haven’t you? The Tower never misses information. You wouldn’t let this pass you by. So tell me—should I read it, or toss it into the fire?”

Naturally, she demanded an honest opinion.

“Well… I haven’t read it, so I wouldn’t know.”

Luis shrugged lightly.

The Marquis of Toir frowned deeply.

“Is your client perhaps your father, the Marquis of Eurean?”

It seemed unbelievable otherwise.

“Oh dear, I’ve been found out. Your insight spares no one, my lady.”

Luis grinned, with a lie so blatant it was almost mocking.

With a polite bow, he left the drawing room.

No doubt that boy would even steal his father’s letter if he wanted to read it.

Clicking her tongue, the Marquis of Toir fixed her gaze on the letter in her hand.

Not opening it was never an option. It clearly contained the means to save her life.

The only question was—what terrifying price would it demand?

Knowing full well the way of nobles, she steeled herself and slit the envelope.

But—

Instead of demanding some exorbitant price, the letter offered an opportunity to fulfill her long-cherished wish.

“My lady! You’ll collapse at this rate. Shouldn’t we turn back now?”

Her maids tried to stop the Marquis of Toir, who hurried across grass wet with morning dew.

“Whom must you meet to make you rush so?”

Even when their carriage broke down on the way, she refused to wait for repairs and insisted on walking.

Her frail body, weakened by illness, forced her two maids into distress.

“I’ve kept someone waiting far too long. If I delay even today, I’ll lose all face.”

She shook off their attempts to dissuade her.

Soon, they arrived at an old prayer house in a small forest.

Though once frequented, it had long since been abandoned—ever since rumors spread that the deposed Empress had loved to visit there.

If you wish to be healed, come here…

At first, she doubted how anyone could cure the disease that even the priests had forsaken.

But the further she read the letter, the more her doubt turned to belief.

Do you know the unwritten rule? That the Divine grants great holy power to those destined to be true sovereigns?

I know your illness is not incurable.

You may despair that your body—and this empire—are doomed to decline, but it is not so.

Just as with your illness, I know the one and only path for this land to prosper again.

And more than anything—I know this is the long-cherished wish of the House of Toir.

The wish you could never voice, bent low beneath tyranny.

Now, I send you the one who can fulfill it.

As the leader of the Imperial Faction, her wish was the faction’s revival.

There was only one person who could hold the key to fulfilling that wish.