By the time the king was given his second bowl of medicine, his condition had already improved significantly compared to the afternoon. Though he was still unconscious, his face showed slight resistance as the butler fed him the bitter decoction.
Recalling the taste of the sample he had tried himself, the butler couldn't help but sympathize.
Knowing that the king was expected to regain consciousness by evening, the butler personally stayed in the bedchamber to await his awakening.
Meanwhile, Wei Wei oversaw the maids as they unpacked. It was clear they might be staying at the palace for a while, so Mona had gone with the palace staff to fetch the majority of their belongings—both for the masters and the maids themselves.
Since they had left Sardinson in a hurry, they hadn't brought much—just a few changes of clothes. Wei Wei, eager to get out of her dress that reeked of herbs, was hoping for a bath.
Unfortunately, this was the royal palace, not their own home. A bath wasn't so easily arranged, especially when the king could awaken at any moment. Felix persuaded her to be patient and wait until after the king regained consciousness.
But before that could happen, a small dispute arose.
Their room was close to the king's, and based on the furniture and lingering scent of perfume, it was clear the previous occupant had been a woman. When dinner was delivered, Wei Wei inquired casually and learned that this room had once belonged to one of the king's mistresses.
Had it been just her, she never would've stayed here—nor would the butler have dared to assign her this room. But because Felix was also present, the butler probably didn't think much of it and gave them this conveniently located space.
However, not everyone was so indifferent to their presence here.
After dinner, with the luggage unpacked and night having fallen, Wei Wei and Felix stayed in the room surrounded by their maids, playing with little Anthony and encouraging him to walk.
The little one, who had recently put on a bit of weight, had slimmed down again after the long journey. Thankfully, he wasn't prone to motion sickness and had adjusted well after disembarking, showing no signs of illness.
Having slept through most of the trip, he was quite alert now. With nothing else pressing, the adults began trying to teach him to walk.
Of course, his bones were still soft and undeveloped. Walking was out of the question; he couldn't even stand steadily. With both his little hands held, he managed a few wobbly steps before getting fed up, plopping down on his knees and pulling his hands free. With a determined crawl, he made his way to his mother, looked up, and grinned broadly—then plopped down and raised his hands for a cuddle.
Unfortunately for him, his cold-hearted mother didn't indulge him. She simply took his tiny hand, hoisted him up again, and started "walking" him around by the armpits.
This time, under her guidance, little Anthony made a show of cooperation, toddling along unsteadily on his stubby, unstraightened legs—like an astronaut taking slow, exaggerated moon-steps.
The maids couldn't hold back their laughter. Kama, having brought over the next round of medicine and no longer needing to tend the fireplace, watched the toddler and thought of her daughter, nearly seven now.
Kama was no longer a slave but a serf, her status elevated along with her daughter's. Though they still weren't free citizens, Kama was more than content with how far they'd come.
As Wei Wei's maid, Kama had managed to have her daughter placed under Miss Caroline's care as a companion servant—a playmate maid. At just six years old, her daughter was the youngest in Sardinson Castle. Mother and child shared quarters and often saw each other during the day. Every night, her daughter chattered endlessly about her day before falling asleep. Watching her grow healthy and lively was all Kama needed for happiness.
Lost in thought, Kama suddenly noticed a commotion outside. Standing nearest the door, she heard muffled arguing from the hallway.
She stepped over to the door, didn't open it, but pressed her ear to the wood and listened. Then she turned to Wei Wei, frowning.
"Madam, I think someone's arguing with the guards out in the corridor."
The cheerful atmosphere drained from the room instantly.
Wei Wei frowned. Arguing with guards—here, outside the king's chambers? That person's status had to be high.
"Man or woman?" she asked.
Kama hesitated. "It sounded like… a woman."
The room fell completely silent. Now even Wei Wei could hear the faint but sharp voice from outside—female, forceful, indignant.
And it sounded… familiar.
Considering how the palace was under lockdown, with all nobles and royal relatives expelled, and the king's quarters sealed, few could appear here and confront the guards. And of those few, only one woman's voice would sound so familiar to Wei Wei.
Queen Mirabelle.
Once she realized who it likely was, Wei Wei was tempted to take a look herself. But since the king had insisted her presence be kept secret, it wasn't appropriate for her to show her face now. So instead, she handed the baby off to her husband and tiptoed to the door to eavesdrop.
The maids fell silent. Felix carried Anthony to the window, letting Wei Wei focus.
She had a sharp hearing. With the room quiet and her full attention fixed on the door, she quickly made out the voices more clearly.
Sure enough, it was Queen Mirabelle, demanding to see the king. The guards refused, and an argument broke out.
Well, not so much an argument—only the queen was raising her voice.
Before long, the butler's calm, seasoned voice joined the fray.
"Your Majesty," he said, neither servile nor aggressive, "His Majesty has ordered not to receive visitors at this time."
"I am the queen!" Mirabelle snapped, her tone shrill and piercing. "Why can't I see my husband? And if you say the king sees no one, then why are the lights on in that woman's room? Has she snuck back into the palace? He'll see her but not me?!"
The butler glanced toward the room assigned to the Earl of Williams, fully aware of who "that woman" referred to. In Mirabelle's eyes, any of the king's mistresses was a "slut," even those who held the title of duchess. Of course, she would never say it to their faces—not in front of the king, anyway. He loathed conflict, and she didn't want to anger him. The mistresses themselves were far from docile, and had she ever dared insult them face to face, they would've retaliated without hesitation.
But within the palace staff, the queen's venomous insults were no secret.
"You're mistaken, Your Majesty," the butler replied steadily. "That lady has not returned. She left the palace with the others, remember? As for that room—it's just a maid doing some cleaning."
Mirabelle scoffed. "Cleaning an empty room at night? You expect me to believe that? And wasn't it the king's order that the area around his chambers be sealed? What maid could enter? Or is it another of His Majesty's new conquests?"
The butler was momentarily speechless. She wasn't wrong—there was a standing order, and no maids had been allowed to clean these rooms in recent days. He had personally handled the arrangements for the Earl's quarters precisely because of that.
"You can't answer, can you?" the queen pressed. "Because you're lying. That's not a maid, is it? Fine, then let her come out and show herself!"
Wei Wei considered sending out one of her maids to bluff but quickly dismissed the idea. Her maids were unfamiliar faces, not dressed in royal livery. One step outside, and they'd be exposed.
The butler, growing frustrated, still held his composure. "Your Majesty, the maid has already finished and left. If you wish, I can summon her."
"She left? The candles were still burning when I arrived!"
The butler cursed himself inwardly. He'd been so focused on placing Wei Wei near the king for treatment that he forgot the queen's residence lay just across the way—and from her side, she could see this room. And at night, even without the curtains open, the candlelight would glow faintly through.
He covered, saying, "Perhaps the maid forgot to snuff the candles. I will see that she's punished."
Mirabelle was livid. "Enough! I demand to see the king. He's been out of sight for too long, and everything I know comes from you. How do I know you haven't imprisoned him and forged orders in his name?!"
Now that accusation crossed a line. The butler's tone turned icy. "Your Majesty, I must ask you not to make such irresponsible claims. His Majesty personally instructed us to allow no visitors. I am only obeying his command."
But Queen Mirabelle had made up her mind—tonight, she would see the king. No matter what the butler said, she refused to leave. Given her status, neither the butler nor the guards could forcibly remove her, and the standoff continued.
Not long after, word of the scene spread, and soon Crown Prince Edward and Prince Andrew arrived one after another. Though they didn't get along with the queen, they were equally concerned for their father. Hoping to speak to him, they ended up siding with the queen and pleaded with the butler to let them in.
But the king's coma was a tightly held secret. The butler couldn't risk letting them find out. Not even when Crown Prince Edward invoked his authority as heir did he relent.
Just when tempers flared and it looked like Edward might force his way in, the door to the king's chamber suddenly opened.
The servant who had been watching over the king stumbled out, face radiant with joy.
"His Majesty is awake! He says… you may all enter."
The noisy hallway fell silent.
Everyone turned to the servant in stunned disbelief. Then, without a word, the butler rushed into the room, elated.
The two princes exchanged glances. In each other's eyes, they saw the same flicker of relief—then quickly followed.
Only Queen Mirabelle lingered. Her face first showed a flash of surprise—then quickly shifted to a mask of concern as she entered behind them.
No one noticed that in the room she had accused of housing a secret lover, the door had quietly cracked open—just wide enough for one dark eye to peer out, observing every expression… every reaction… in perfect detail.