Chapter 85
“It seems she had an exceptionally strong will to live.”
At the offhand remark, Fernand lowered his eyelids without an immediate reply.
He couldn’t say whether Yulia’s tenacity stemmed from the fact that she had once thrown her life away for him.
As his expression darkened, Calrosa stepped closer to the bed.
Extending his hand slowly, a subtle glow of sacred power emanated from his palm, gently enveloping Yulia’s body.
“First, we’ll begin the anesthetic ritual. If she wakes immediately after drinking the holy water, she might feel pain.”
At that, Fernand finally lifted his head, his voice grave.
“Severe pain?”
Calrosa shrugged. “Hard to say. A long time ago, there was a man with symptoms like hers. The moment he woke, he writhed in agony. So it won’t be an easy pain to endure.”
“……”
Noticing Fernand’s clenched fists, Calrosa continued calmly, “That’s why we’re putting her under anesthesia. At least while she’s asleep, she won’t feel it. No need to worry too much.”
Withdrawing his hand, Calrosa rolled up his sleeve.
A servant soon brought a small, meticulously polished dagger.
Before Fernand’s arrival, Calrosa had already instructed the servants to prepare the blade.
Fernand watched silently as Calrosa drew the dagger across his own wrist.
Drops of blood fell into the waiting cup below.
Strangely, the droplets didn’t spread but hardened like beads the moment they touched the surface.
Blood saturated with immense sacred power couldn’t remain liquid outside the body. Instead, it solidified like gemstones.
Though an unusual sight, no one in the room dared to marvel.
Soon, the cup was half-filled with shimmering crimson holy water.
“Feed her one at a time. Her breathing will return.”
Calrosa abruptly handed the cup to Fernand. As he took it, Calrosa healed his wound with a flick of sacred power.
Fernand turned and sat at the edge of the bed. Pulling Yulia’s shoulder toward him, her long chestnut hair spilled loosely.
He parted her lips slightly and carefully let the holy water trickle into her mouth.
The liquid flowed down her motionless throat, spreading through her body.
Gradually, the light surrounding her grew brighter.
“The anesthetic is strong. She won’t wake for about a week.”
As Fernand laid her back down, Calrosa added, “That should lessen the pain when she wakes.”
Fernand nodded slightly, then pressed his fingers to her wrist.
Faint but steady—her pulse was unmistakable.
“Prepare yourself. She may not remember you when she wakes.”
Calrosa settled into a chair, observing the changes in her condition.
As the holy water permeated her body, color slowly returned to her skin.
Even Calrosa couldn’t predict how much of her memory would remain.
She might lose everything—or only fragments. Either way, it would be unbearable for her husband.
Fernand, still staring at Yulia, finally spoke quietly.
“As promised, I’ll relocate the villagers to my territory soon.”
In exchange for the holy water, Calrosa had asked for the villagers he’d lived among to be taken care of.
After decades with them, they were precious to him.
Having stayed in one place too long, others like Fernand might track him down.
So Calrosa planned to move to a new continent after this.
“I’ll stay here until she wakes.”
Calrosa nodded. He intended to monitor her condition closely, prepared for any complications.
Having revived someone with his holy water after so long, he wanted to see her awaken fully before leaving.
Meanwhile, Fernand focused solely on her breathing.
The faint but steady rhythm under his fingertips gradually eased the tension in his body.
“Well, I’ll take a look around the castle.”
As if giving them space, Calrosa rose slowly and left the room.
Alone in the silence, Fernand remained by Yulia’s side without leaving for even a moment.
A week passed.
Calrosa, who had monitored Yulia’s condition daily, murmured approvingly at her rapid recovery.
“Hmm, her blood flow has fully normalized.”
Her healing exceeded expectations.
The holy water had permeated her body perfectly, swiftly restoring dormant functions.
Her heartbeat, lungs, and circulation were now fully operational.
All that remained was waiting—for her to open her eyes.
“Given how quickly she’s recovering, perhaps the damage to her brain isn’t severe.”
She might not lose all her memories.
Calrosa leaned back in his chair, glancing out the window at the early autumn morning.
The castle had been peaceful for the past week. On the surface, everything seemed tranquil.
At least within the main keep where Yulia rested.
But elsewhere, moves were being made against the Emperor, the mastermind behind the recent events.
“Your Highness, we’ve detained all of the Emperor’s Shadow Knights.”
Only after confirming Yulia’s stability did Fernand act decisively.
He now held three of the Emperor’s assassins—the ones sent after him in Carnocia.
These knights, existing solely for the Emperor, had no official identities. Naturally, no evidence tied them to their master.
Under normal circumstances.
But Fernand had long known how to identify them.
‘A small but distinct hawk insignia behind the left ear.’
It was the Emperor’s unmistakable mark.
To reveal it, the skin had to be burned with fire.
As the scar whitened, the hidden symbol would emerge.
“As you suspected, the hawk insignia was there.”
A knight reported as Fernand strode into the dungeon.
The existence of this mark was a secret known only to the Emperor and his heir.
Fernand had learned of it in his distant childhood—from his late father.
Once, his father had been the Crown Prince, not the current Emperor.
Long ago, before his coronation, his father had shared this secret with his young son.
A fleeting remark from childhood, yet Fernand remembered it vividly even now.
He never imagined it would be used like this.
The dungeon cells held the Emperor’s knights in chains.
Their attempt on Fernand’s life strongly implicated the Emperor.
But circumstantial evidence alone wasn’t enough to topple him.
Something more definitive was needed—a justification the Emperor couldn’t escape.
As Fernand stared coldly through the bars, another knight approached.
“Your Highness, we’ve investigated your earlier orders.”
The report continued:
“The one who first informed the Emperor about the Ilion Temple was likely from House Ellodi.”
Fernand’s eyes narrowed. If from House Ellodi, it would be either the heir or the Marchioness herself.
“They also seem unaware that Her Highness is central to this matter.”
Fernand fell into thought.
The Emperor’s men had been slaughtered before breaching the tower’s barrier.
Thus, they likely never realized the woman inside was Yulia.
Had they known, House Ellodi wouldn’t have stayed silent.
They would have demanded Yulia’s reinstatement as Grand Duchess.
Exiting the dungeon, Fernand ascended into the light.
On his way back to the main keep, a frantic attendant rushed toward him.
“Y-Your Highness!”
The long-awaited news finally came:
“Her Highness—she’s just opened her eyes!””
