Chapter: 18
An Emperor’s Anguish
This was different from her usual sleep-talking.
The princess never mumbled so long and sorrowfully in her sleep.
Just short, powerful yelps—attempts at bravery that were simply adorable.
“What is it?”
Uni hurriedly placed a hand on the princess’s neck, and her face went deathly pale.
“Head Maid! Her Highness has a fever!”
“What?!”
“Your Highness!”
“It doesn’t seem like a simple fever!”
“To His Majesty, at once! Sir Xaviet, report to the Emperor immediately!”
“Yes!”
An emergency had erupted in the Princess’s Palace.
Of all days, for this to happen on the day of the Emperor’s birthday banquet!
But Jusielia was in such excruciating pain that the commotion was a dull roar in her ears.
Unable to even open her eyes, Jusielia couldn’t bear the agony and finally let tears fall.
Someone seemed to be wiping the corners of her eyes, sobbing.
Wandering through the pitch-black darkness, Jusielia kept praying.
She prayed to live, to be saved, but the darkness was merciless.
A bone-chillingly cold touch shattered and tore her small body to pieces.
Dad, Brother, Sophie, Uni, Xaviet…
Anash, please!
For a fleeting moment, the image of a child with unfamiliar crimson eyes surfaced in her mind, and she felt a brief respite from the pain.
“Kyahng.”
A frail cry rang in Ritain’s ears.
“Jusielia!!!”
In her fading consciousness, Jusielia recognized the familiar arms holding her as Ritain’s. Reassured, she managed a small smile.
Then, gasping for breath, Jusielia finally lost the fragile grip she had on her consciousness.
It’s Dad’s birthday today.
I have to give him his present. I have to give him his birthday card.
Don’t be upset, please take it.
Even as she fainted, Jusielia worried for the empire’s well-being and went limp in Ritain’s arms.
***
Moonlight filtered through the window.
Standing before a table in the imperial bedroom, Ritain’s gaze was fixed on a piece of pristine white paper.
Bathed in the moonlight, it shone even more clearly—it was his birthday card.
[To Emperor Ritain Dester Penterin
Happy Birthday
Happy birthday to my dad
From your daughter, Jusielia]
Perhaps the heavens had granted the wish of Jusielia, who had worried for the empire’s people even as she lost consciousness.
The birthday card was now in his hands.
But contrary to Jusielia’s wish, Ritain’s face was terrifyingly cold, his expression blank and devoid of any joy.
Had Jusielia seen his reaction, she would have undoubtedly felt hurt, biting his arm and clawing at his head with her front paws in protest.
Of course, she wouldn’t have been able to leave a single scratch on him.
“Haaah…”
The birthday banquet was, of course, canceled. The news that the young princess was in critical condition spread throughout the empire.
As he gazed at the card, the turmoil in his golden eyes deepened. Ritain pressed a hand to his forehead and lowered his head.
The care she had taken—writing out his full name in her crooked script, using different colors to make it vibrant—was so endearing it was agonizing.
And a paw print instead of a signature.
From his daughter, who rarely ever used the color pink, no less.
It was unbearably cute.
He was incredibly grateful that she had prepared a gift for him at all.
If only Jusielia had been healthy, as she usually was. And if Ritain had received this gift at the birthday banquet today.
‘I would have designated it an imperial treasure on the spot.’
Ritain raised his head again and looked down at Jusielia’s gift.
His knuckles turned white as he clenched his fist, the bones standing out in sharp relief.
The thing Jusielia had overexerted herself doing before collapsing was making this birthday card.
Did she end up in this state because she was making this card?
Ritain bit his lower lip so hard that it bled.
‘Damn it.’
No matter how much of a doting father he was, he wasn’t an idiot.
And yet, his mind kept latching onto trivial details.
What if that little child had fallen ill because she had pushed herself too hard?
He ended up blaming himself.
Crrk.
Ritain, who had unknowingly been gripping the corner of the table where the card lay, snapped back to his senses at the sound of it splintering.
He brushed the marble dust from his hand and spun around.
He then walked toward the large imperial bed, with its red covers and golden embroidery.
There, a small white tiger cub lay limp in sleep, a stark contrast against the crimson bedding.
“Jusielia.”
Ritain called his daughter’s name, his voice still gentle, but when she didn’t stir, he simply sat beside her.
He watched silently as her small body rose and fell with each shallow breath.
What am I to do with you?
Today, Jusielia looked even more fragile, so Ritain couldn’t even bring himself to stroke her.
It felt as though she would shatter into pieces at his touch.
“Jusielia.”
Ritain clutched his forehead and let out a sigh mixed with indescribable emotions.
If he could, he would trade his life for hers. Was this how Brianna had felt?
Ritain let out a hollow laugh.
She, at least, had a chance to save Jusielia, but he wasn’t even being given that.
“It will be all right. You are a princess of Penterin. I will save you, no matter what.”
Ritain whispered forcefully to Jusielia, his voice firm.
“So just hold on a little longer.”
As Ritain had willed, Jusielia was holding on.
***
A few hours earlier.
Hearing the news that Jusielia was in critical condition, Ritain had stopped all his work and rushed to the Princess’s Palace.
At first, he couldn’t believe it.
He had heard many times that white tigers born into other tiger families were born weak or died young.
But Jusielia, born into the Penterin imperial family, was different from other white tigers from the very beginning.
Was it because of Anash’s protection?
Despite his arrogant mistake of abandoning the young cub in the tower right after her birth, she had been perfectly healthy and strong.
She was nearly three, yet she had never even caught a cold.
So he had been at ease.
Why was she suddenly so gravely ill?
Jusielia’s condition, seen in person, was serious.
When his little cub thrashed in agony and coughed up crimson blood, Ritain roared.
“If the princess dies, you all die. Save her, no matter what!”
At the roar of the Penterin Empire’s most powerful beastman, the others were terrified but immediately obeyed.
All the high priests of the Grand Temple gathered at once and began treating Her Highness.
Even Ijeten pressured the priests, glaring at the backs of their heads.
But the High Priest calmly explained to Ritain that for now, lowering the fever was the best they could do.
He bowed his head low, asking Ritain to wait while they returned to the Grand Temple to research a treatment.
Ritain suppressed the urge to kill them all and sent the High Priest and a few of his subordinates away.
They were Jusielia’s only hope.
He couldn’t lose her like this.
They didn’t even know what illness she had.
In truth, Ritain felt his heart plummet into an abyss.
He struggled to regain his composure and issued a stern warning that was as good as a threat to the departing High Priest.
“If the princess dies before you return, I will kill all the high priests who remain here. So find a cure, no matter what.”
The priests’ faces turned ashen. They nodded in understanding and hurried back to the Grand Temple.
After that, Ritain personally carried Jusielia to the Emperor’s Palace.
He couldn’t rest until he saw his daughter wake up with his own eyes.
Every thirty minutes, a high priest would enter the emperor’s bedroom, trembling, and infuse Jusielia with divine power.
With arms crossed, Ritain watched them, his eyes terrifying.
Despite all that divine power and the efforts of many, Jusielia remained the same. She didn’t get worse, nor did she get better.
Ritain checked the time.
Eight hours had already passed since Jusielia collapsed.
Could he just stand by and watch?
He had to make a decision. A beastman cub was weak. That small body wouldn’t be able to endure much longer.
