Chapter 25
"If you're lonely when you're alone, you're in bad company." - Jean- Paul Sartre
The grueling trials were finally over.
I knew this was just the beginning—but compared to what we'd endured, things should be easier from here on out.
I closed my eyes as the warm summer breeze drifted across my skin, carrying with it the soft scent of grass and sun-warmed stone. The trees swayed gently overhead, their leaves rustling like whispered words. The wind swept through the tall grass around me, brushing my legs in slow, rhythmic waves.
Ah... I'm truly alone sometimes.
I let the moment stretch, letting the stillness wrap around me like a blanket.
No voices. No orders. No fighting. Just silence.
Peaceful—and, for once, quiet.
No one else was around.
"I guess I better head back," I muttered, pushing myself to my feet.
I dusted off my pants, stole one last look at the stars, and turned toward the Capitol—
unaware of the quiet storm already unfolding within its walls.
The walk back was slow, almost reluctant. I passed groups of kids darting between alleyways, still running wild well past bedtime. A few couples strolled by, and the smell of roasted meat and spiced ale drifted from the taverns and food stalls. The city was alive even at night.
By the time I reached the palace, something felt off.
Too quiet.
Not a single guard posted at the entrance. I chalked it up to a shift rotation.
Still... it made the silence feel heavy.
I stepped into my quarters and began removing my gear. The sword belt came first, then my chest guard.
And just as I unbuckled my shoulder strap—
the door slammed open.
"Sir Basileus! Her Majesty—she's fallen gravely ill! Please, can you come see if there's anything you can do?"
It was Julie—barefoot, breathless, still in her nightgown.
I sighed.
Honestly… do they think I'm her personal servant? Every time something goes wrong—no matter how small—it's always me they come running to.
"Take me to her."
She's probably just caught a cold. They're overreacting. As usual.
"Let's hurry!"
I followed Julie through the dim palace halls to the Empress's chambers. The doors were already open when we arrived.
Ria lay in her bed, face pale as snow, enhanced by her red hair. Her breathing was shallow, labored. Faint black veins crept up her neck, pulsing slightly beneath the skin.
Surrounding her were palace medics, herbalists, and one woman cloaked entirely in black—her.
The same woman who'd been spying on me and Lace back in Homedge.
Her glare sharpened the moment she saw me.
"What is he doing here?" she snapped, voice like ice. "Julie, explain. Now."
"I thought… maybe he could help," Julie stammered, folding her hands anxiously. "He's been around the Empress the most lately. Maybe he's noticed something we haven't."
"That's ridiculous. It was probably him in the first place."
Her eyes locked on mine. Cold. Convicted.
"No. It was you. Even if you deny it, I won't believe a word you say."
She stepped forward, drawing daggers from behind her back.
Of course.
"Nella, please—this isn't the time," Julie tried, her voice pleading. "Her Majesty wouldn't want us fighting like this."
I didn't respond.
I was too tired to argue. I'd barely slept. Barely drawn on any new mana. My head ached, my limbs heavy. Listening to her spit nonsense only made it worse.
So I ignored her.
I stepped past her blade, brushing shoulders as I made my way to the bedside.
Mirian's eyes were closed. Her breathing ragged.
I took her hand gently and lifted it.
"Just what do you think you're doing?" Nella hissed, pressing the tip of a dagger against my throat.
Still, I said nothing. I reached out with my free hand and traced the black veins snaking along Mirian's arm, following their path as they converged into her chest.
Poison.
Subtle. Long-acting. A rare poison.
The question was—when?
She was always guarded. Always had attendants. Someone watching. So when had this slipped past?
Had the blade from our duel been coated?
No. Impossible. No one could've known she'd lose—not in that short a time. There wasn't even an hour between the duel's announcement and end.
And this… this had been building for days.
Four, maybe five. Judging by the way her mana had begun to break down, I'd guess it had started just over four days ago.
Which meant whoever did this had planned it well before our match.
The beggar!!
Of course.
I knew there was something off about that encounter. He must've poisoned her during that fleeting moment—when she was distracted, wiping the mud from her eyes. It happened so fast, even I didn't see it.
"Julie," I said quietly.
"Oh, so now you'll talk?" Nella snapped. Her voice cut sharp as the blade at my throat. "Can you not feel the dagger? I won't say it again—get your hands off her."
I was tired.
Tired of the suspicion. Tired of the constant need to explain myself.
Tired of her yapping.
Without a word, I reached up and grabbed the blade with my bare hand—no mana reinforcement, just flesh and blood.
"What the hell do you—"
She jerked the dagger back.
The blade sliced into my palm, warm blood dripping down my fingertips.
I didn't flinch.
Instead, I grabbed her wrist with my free hand and squeezed—hard enough that her fingers lost strength and the weapon clattered to the floor.
My aura must've slipped out.
She staggered back instinctively, breath catching, her remaining dagger raised as she shielded Julie behind her.
The others in the room screamed and bolted for the door, shouting for the guards.
"Julie," I said, my voice calm. "She's been poisoned. I believe it was the man from the alley—the beggar. We need to find him immediately. Send word. Bring him here."
Julie's eyes widened. "But… the poison... if we find out what it is, we can still cure her, right?"
I shook my head. "It's already gone too far. Even with the right cure, we're out of time."
Tears welled in her eyes. "So… what? There's nothing we can do? She's just going to die? And we're supposed to stand here and watch it happen?"
"No." I met her gaze. "There's one thing that might work. But you'll have to trust me."
I turned to Nella. "Nella, right?"
She blinked, caught off guard. "Uh—yes?"
"Do you mind if I borrow this?" I lifted the dagger she'd dropped.
Her eyes narrowed, still guarded. "Sure," she muttered, though her other dagger stayed raised.
I pulled a chair from behind them and sat beside Ria's bed.
Gently, I pulled back the blanket and cut open the top of her shirt, exposing part of her chest—just enough to trace the source of the blackened veins with precision.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nella tense—ready to move—but Julie grabbed her arm, stopping her.
"It's okay," Julie whispered. "Let him work."
She gave me a small nod.
I nodded back.
And began.
I took the dagger and widened the gash in my own palm, letting the blood run freely. Then, with careful precision, I made a matching cut in Ria's hand.
She flinched—but her eyes never opened.
Without hesitation, I began channeling my mana into her, weaving it through the wound and pulling hers back into me in return.
I'd discovered it in the cave—poison clung to my blue mana like dew on spider silk. It didn't cleanse it… but it attracted it. Drew it in.
Over and over, I repeated the process—mana out, mana back—cycling it through the wounds until the poison that had laced her veins now pulsed through mine.
Julie and Nella stood frozen, watching as the black veins receded, color slowly returning to Ria's cheeks.
Julie's eyes widened. "You did it! I don't know how, but you did it! Thank you, Basileus!"
But it wasn't over.
Not by a long shot.
Just because I'd drawn it from her didn't mean it had vanished.
No—now it was in me.
A sharp pain bloomed in my chest.
Then came the sweat. The tremble. The ache that lanced through every muscle.
I slipped from the chair and crashed to the floor.
"ARGHH—!"
My hand clenched my tunic over my heart as my body convulsed. Every breath was fire.
She endured this? For four days?
How...?
Julie and Nella dropped to my side, panic etched across their faces.
"Basileus! Are you alright?!"
I waved them off, grimacing. "I'm fine."
Lie.
I forced myself upright, slumping back against the bed.
I activated the skill poison resistance, and felt the faint hum of healing begin pulsing through my core.
Shit.
It was working—but too slowly.
My vision blurred at the edges. The pain was intensifying.
I can't die here.
If I did, it wouldn't take long for word to spread.
And the moment the Empire learned about my unique skill—Immortality—it'd all fall apart.
I can't let that happen.
It's too soon.
I opened my eyes and grabbed the dagger again, dragging it across my skin—deepening the cut in my palm, then making smaller incisions across my arms, shoulders, chest. Each one precise. Controlled.
Within seconds, I was dripping in blood.
My once-white tunic was soaked through—dyed a dark black and crimson from collar to hem.
I clenched my teeth, tightened every muscle in my body, and forced blue mana outward, pushing it through the wounds. My entire frame trembled under the strain.
A few agonizing moments passed.
Then finally…
The black residue that had leaked from my wounds began to fade.
Now, it was just blood. Red. Clean.
I exhaled. "Phew... I thought I was a goner there—haha."
I glanced up at Nella and Julie.
Both stared at me in frozen silence, their mouths hanging open.
Just as Julie opened hers to speak, the door burst open—guards pouring in, blades drawn and shields raised.
The first few who entered skidded to a stop, taking in the scene:
Me, drenched in blood. The Empress, barely clothed.
The captain in front tried—and failed—to form a sentence.
"Just... What's going... on here?"
His eyes darted between me and Ria like we were caught in some scandal.
Then—
"That's it. I've had IT!" Nella screamed so loudly I flinched.
She pointed at me, her voice shrill with frustration. "YOU! Stay right there and don't move!"
I threw my hands up, surrendering.
"Everyone else OUT! LET'S GO, PEOPLE! OUT! OUT! OUT!"
She shoved the guards and the handful of medics back out the door. They protested weakly.
"But what about Her Majesty—"
"SHE'S FINE! NOW MOVE IT!"
She slammed the door shut behind them, then let out a long, exhausted sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Julie," she said, "go fetch bandages and a high-grade healing potion. Hurry."
Julie didn't say a word. She just nodded and ran.
Nella turned to me and pointed at the nearby chair—the one I'd collapsed from earlier.
"Sit."
Too tired to argue, I dropped into it without complaint.
She helped peel off my ruined tunic just as Julie returned, arms full of supplies.
"I've got it from here," Nella said gently. "Thanks for your help, Julie. Get some rest. The Empress will need you sharp when she wakes up."
"Right," Julie nodded and left, closing the door softly behind her.
Nella worked in silence, wrapping my upper body in tight, practiced layers of bandages. Then she handed me the potion.
"She's... going to wake up tomorrow, right?" she asked. The tension in her voice betrayed her usual edge.
"More than likely," I said, drinking. "I'll stay and keep circulating mana, just to be sure there's nothing left."
She nodded slowly. "Alright. I'll leave you to it. The palace is probably in full panic, so I need to go calm everyone down."
She paused by the door, giving me a long look.
"I'm trusting you. Don't do anything stupid. If you so much as look at her wrong, I'll cut your thing off while you sleep. Clear?"
I barked a short laugh. "With a threat like that? I doubt anyone would try anything. But don't worry. I'm a gentleman."
Satisfied, she plucked her dagger from the floor, gave me a final grunt, and walked out.
"Thanks… and sorry I doubted you," she said as she closed the door behind her.
The room was quiet again.
I looked at Ria.
This woman had been nothing but trouble from the moment I met her.
I smirked.
At least she's pretty.
I stood and gave her a final once-over, checking for any trace of black veins or lingering poison.
Nothing.
I pulled the blanket back over her and tucked it gently beneath her arms.
She really let the wound scar over...
Silly girl.
I brushed a lock of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. My fingers lingered over the small scar on her cheek—the one I gave her.
And then, softly, she murmured—
"Basil."
Her lips barely moved. Her eyes stayed closed. Her breathing slow and even.
Still asleep.
"What the—" I muttered.
Was she... dreaming of me?
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror across the room.
My face was red.
Loss of Blood. Or fatigue.
Probably.
I sat back down and took her hand again, letting mana flow between us. Not because I needed to anymore—but because I didn't trust fate.
Just to be sure.
Time passed.
The clock in her room ticked on. The world outside moved.
But inside that room, in the stillness between two breaths, the adrenaline faded.
And for the first time in days since i hadn't drawn any mana lately, with her hand in mine—
I let sleep take me.
✦ Mirian's POV ✦
Ugh… my head.
I groaned, lifting a hand to rub my forehead as I opened my eyes.
My gaze met the ornate carvings on the ceiling above my bed.
Wait—wasn't I just in the western corridor?
How did I end up here?
Confused, I sat up.
Something was in my hand.
I glanced down and immediately felt my face go crimson.
Is that… Basil?
Why is he in my room? Why is he holding my hand?
Thoughts collided in my mind like a stampede, and then I caught sight of myself in the mirror.
My chest was nearly completely exposed.
AHHH!
I yanked the blanket up to my chin and slid out of bed as quietly as I could, careful not to wake him.
Tiptoeing across the room, I slipped into the closet and changed into fresh clothes.
After calming myself—mostly—I turned back toward the bed and noticed Basil was covered in bandages. My gaze dropped to my own hand—there was a wound there too.
What exactly happened?
I sat on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, studying his sleeping face.
It was… peaceful. And, annoyingly, handsome. He had long lashes for a man and surprisingly smooth skin.
His hand caught my attention again—calloused, but steady. The wound on his hand matched mine. I traced his fingers gently, running a fingertip across the ragged skin as I inspected it.
My eyes wandered—his chest and arms were wrapped tightly in bandages, the firm lines of his body still evident beneath them. I had the sudden and very unhelpful urge to see what was underneath, but I restrained myself.
Barely.
His hair was the next victim of my curiosity. It wasn't quite short, not quite long, and the strands caught the sunlight just right—brown with hints of gold, darkened where the light didn't reach.
Before I realized it, I was running my hand through it. Twirling it. Playing with it.
Lost in thought.
That's when the door creaked open.
"Your Majesty, you're—!"
I raised a finger to my lips without looking.
Shhh.
Julie and Nella stepped into the room softly. Julie's eyes lit up with relief. Nella's... twitched.
"Your Majesty," Julie whispered, "you seem to be okay now."
"Yes," I replied, glancing at her. "Although I don't remember what happened. Can one of you fill me in?"
"Certainly," Julie said, straightening. "But, um... if you don't mind me asking—what exactly are you doing to Sir Basileus?"
I blinked.
Then looked down.
Oh.
My hand was still in his hair.
My face flushed all over again as I quickly pulled it away.
"Ahem! I—it was lint. He had a piece of lint in his hair, and I was just... removing it."
"Hehe… of course," Julie said sweetly. "So thoughtful of you, Your Majesty."
"Lint, huh?" Nella deadpanned, clearly not buying a word.
I cleared my throat again. "Let's… step outside."
We moved into the hall, and they began to explain.
"So, I was poisoned… and Basil somehow pulled it out of me?" I asked, trying to make sense of it all.
"That's right," Julie nodded. "He transferred the poison into himself and then used his mana to purge it. That's why he's in that state now."
"But he should be fine," Nella added. "We gave him a high-grade healing potion. As long as the poison's fully gone when he wakes, he'll recover."
I stood in silence for a moment.
He'd stayed by my side all night. Suffered through the poison. Made sure I lived.
Without even being asked.
My hand rose instinctively to my hair, twisting a lock between my fingers. Nella narrowed her eyes.
"Tch. Anyway," she said, "you need to let the council know you're alive and well. They're in full-blown panic. I told them you were fine, but naturally, no one believed me."
She turned to go.
"I'm heading to bed. I haven't slept all night. Call me if you need anything."
As she walked away, I heard her muttering to herself:
I don't know when it started, but she always acts like a girl with a crush when he's involved. Hopefully, she knows what she's doing...
"Well, I'm glad you're feeling better, Your Majesty!" Julie beamed.
"Thanks, Julie. I'm glad you were here to take care of me."
I ruffled her hair affectionately.
"Now go assemble the council. I'm sure they'll just love to hear that I'm doing fine," I said with a roll of my eyes. "I'll change and meet you there."
"Yes, Your Majesty!" Julie scurried off.
I turned back toward my chamber door.
But just as I reached for the handle—
it started to turn on its own.
- Basil's POV –
I woke with a slight jolt.
Without lifting my head, I cracked one eye open—and immediately regretted it.
Ria was across the room, undressing.
I shut my eyes again. Fast.
Nope. Not dealing with that.
I'll just pretend to be asleep. No awkward explanations, no morning-after nonsense.
Any second now, she'll leave and—
She sat back down.
Right beside me.
Her familiar vanilla scent filled my nose—warm, soft, like fresh-baked pie. Comforting.
And then...
I felt her fingers—light and delicate—grazing the wound on my hand, tracing the calluses like she was memorizing their shape.
I froze.
Part of me wanted to speak up. To say, Hey, I'm awake.
But the other part?
It... liked this. Liked the calm. Liked her.
The logical half of me almost won.
Then she started playing with my hair.
That was it.
I lost!
Whatever shred of dignity I had left evaporated with every gentle tug of her fingers. My pride died a silent death.
She's tamed me. Completely.
I wanted to cry.
But also? I could stay like this forever.
Or so I thought.
Salvation arrived. Julie.
Finally. I'm saved.
I could hear them whispering—Julie, Ria, and even Nella. My PER stat was too high for whispers to go unheard by me.
But even then...
She was still touching my hair.
Why!?
I was screaming inside.
But also melting.
No! This has to stop! People are watching! I'm not emotionally stable enough for this right now!
"Let's talk in the hall," Ria said.
YES.
Freedom.
Her hand finally left my head.
I should've felt nothing but relief.
But instead, my heart felt... weird.
Probably leftover poison. Definitely that.
I waited a few beats after the door closed. Then peeked one eye open.
Clear.
Time to escape.
They were probably still outside in the hallway. I could climb out the window, disappear for a bit, deal with the questions later.
I walked over and tried to push it open.
Wouldn't budge.
Closer inspection revealed runes etched into the glass.
Of course. A protection spell.
And the one thing I'm terrible at... was runes.
Great.
Plan B: Stealth.
I steadied my breathing, slowed my heartbeat with mana, and reached for the door as I activated 'Stealth'.
Turned the knob slowly. Carefully.
I pulled it open.
And came face to face with Ria.
I froze.
She smiled softly. "Basil. You're awake."
I forced a laugh. "Ria—ha, yeah. Just woke up. Glad to see you're doing fine!"
Why did I just lie?
She twitched slightly. Probably because I called her Ria instead of Empress.
"Yes! All thanks to you, I hear! Thanks for being so reliable and honest!"
Oof. That sting was intentional.
I twitched. "Haha, yeah. That's me. Gentleman and... truth-teller extraordinaire."
Her brows furrowed.
Quick! Change the subject! Compliment! Women like clothes, right?
"Ah! Your new outfit looks... really nice! Sorry about ripping the old one."
Why?!
Why did I say that?!
She blinked. Her face turned red.
"My new clothes…" she murmured.
Before I could dig a deeper hole, I heard the sound of boots—guard on patrol.
YES!
I can use him as an excuse to vanish.
But just as I shifted toward the hall—
She shoved me back inside.
The door shut.
Now she stood between me and freedom.
Then she put a hand over my mouth and pressed a finger to her lips, her eyes wide.
Too close.
Her breath touched my neck. Her scent overwhelmed me. The way she was pushed up against me. My brain short-circuited.
I felt the flush rise from my neck to my cheeks.
Don't look. Don't react. Just—
I turned away, mortified.
So did she.
Oh goddesses, she's just as flustered. This is a disaster.
"I—I think he's gone," I said weakly.
"Yes... I think so too."
I took a few steps back. "What... was that all about?"
"I didn't want the guard getting the wrong idea. And spreading rumors," she said. "For your sake."
My sake...?
"Um, Basileus… last night... you didn't see anything, did you? When you, uh... tore my clothes?"
I froze.
The image of her half-exposed, flushed in sleep, came rushing back.
"AH! NO—NO! I MEAN, YES—WAIT, NOT LIKE THAT! I DID LOOK BUT ONLY TO CHECK FOR POISON—BUT YOU'RE VERY ATTRACTIVE AND HAVE A GREAT FIGURE THATS BEEN ON MY MIND—UGH! I MEAN—I'M SORRY!"
I bowed deeply. I wanted to disappear.
"Anyway! Gotta go! Training! All on me today since Lace isn't there! Later, Ria!—AH, I MEAN, YOUR MAJESTY!"
I bolted from the room, speed-walking like a man whose life depended on it.
✦ Mirian's POV ✦
"Pfft!"
I couldn't hold it in any longer.
Laughter burst out of me, loud and uncontrollable.
That... that was the first time I'd ever seen Basil lose his composure. His cool, stoic mask had completely shattered—and I loved it.
I wanted more.
"What a reaction..." I muttered, grinning.
Then I thought back on it.
"You have a great figure, and it's been on my mind..."
I blushed.
At the same time, somewhere in the halls of the palace—
"Ahhh, I can't believe I said that—" Basil groaned, dragging a hand down his face.
And in that moment, we both thought the same thing:
So I'm on His/Her mind.
A sly, devious smile crept across my lips.
Oh... this is going to be fun. Going to have to tease him more often.