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Faint prayers could be heard echoing from the palace, carrying with them a calming power.

“Your Majesty!”

The maids at the palace gate greeted her with a respectful bow.

“Is Archbishop Gregory performing a healing magic on His Majesty?”

“Yes.”

Queen Midela nodded, stood quietly outside the chamber until the prayers from within ended, and then she walked in.

The platinum Holy Light had not entirely dissipated yet, blanketing the bedchamber with a sacred, bright hue.

“Your Majesty, how are you feeling?” Queen Midela quickened her steps to the bedside.

Emperor Reinhardt was leaning against the bed, pale and weak, a state unbecoming of a powerful sixth-tier knight.

“Thanks to Archbishop Gregory, I can feel my body slowly recovering.” He spoke in a breathless tone, as if he could be carried away by a breeze.

“Your Majesty, you’re too modest. Majesty’s recovery primarily depends upon the glow of our Lord,” laughed Pope Gregory.

This Pope of the Glorious Church stood at the emperor’s bedside, supporting himself on a white scepter, wearing a coronet of thorns, his eyes small and ever smiling, which made it almost impossible to detect his train of thought.

“Praise the Lord! May His glory last forever!” Queen Midela exclaimed. She then asked, “Archbishop Gregory, have we identified the cause of His Majesty’s illness?”

The Pope suddenly furrowed his brow and sighed, ” His Majesty has been poisoned, but… but it’s a poison I’ve never seen before, which is why the treatment is progressing slowly.”

Disappointment crossed Queen Midela’s face. She thanked the pope profusely and saw him off.

Once left alone with her husband, Emperor Reinhardt suddenly smiled, “What do you think, could the old man have been thinking of treating me with intent to kill?”

Queen Midela scoffed, “Gregory would never let you die at his hands. Besides, his primary concern is whether you’ve been genuinely poisoned.”

“Of course, I’ve been poisoned…Cough, cough…” Emperor Reinhardt coughed gently, then turned to the queen with a probing look. “I’m really curious, where did you find such a poison that even Gregory couldn’t recognize?”

Queen Midela smiled coyly, but didn’t answer the emperor’s question. Instead, she asked, “Will you attend the funeral tomorrow?”

“Of course, I will attend!” Emperor Reinhardt said without hesitation, his eyes flashing with a sinister gleam, “I want to see my dear uncle fall from grace and be forsaken by all!”

“Then you should get some rest and recuperate.” Queen Midela prepared to leave after perfunctorily commanding her husband.

“Wait a moment,” Emperor Reinhardt called after her.

Queen Midela turned around, her impatience evident as she looked at her husband. Her silence was suggestive — what else do you want?

Emperor Reinhardt didn’t take offense at his wife’s slightly disrespectful gaze but instead asked with a grin:

“I heard that the two young ones from the North Territory really stirred up quite a trouble. If it weren’t for us…hehe, they might have even managed to prevent the proposal from being passed by the Senate.”

Queen Midela gave a disdainful laugh, “Those two na?ve children are merely being smarty pants. They have no idea how deep the waters of the Senate really are, which is why they have such childish ideas. You don’t have to worry. I’ve already taken care of it. There won’t be another incident.”

Emperor Reinhardt nodded, then wondering, “So you still insist on letting Vera inherit the title of the Northern Duke?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve seen it too; Vera is not one to be easily controlled. Why not choose Joyce?”

Queen Midela huffed, “Joyce indeed can be easily controlled, but the party that ends up controlling him might not be us! Don’t forget the lesson of the East Territory. Do you want the North Territory to fall into the hands of the Church?”

“Joyce is only ten years old; there are still eight more years until he comes of age. Let’s put aside whether he will still harbor affection for Archbishop Agani after such a long time. Even if he does end up marrying her, I am confident that I’ll be able to handle her. But Vera… well, your brother has selected a good husband for her!”

“Are you worried about Colin Angler?” Queen Midela squinted her eyes in thought.

“Yes.” Emperor Reinhardt nodded seriously, “As a Northern Knight… he’s tough to read. He’s managed to avert danger many times in terribly adverse situations, and I don’t quite understand the means he’s used.”

Queen Midela stayed silent for a while, then said, “I understand your concerns, but Colin can be won over.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Is that assurance based on that story he told our son in Silver Moon City?”

Queen Midela confidently nodded.

Yet, Emperor Reinhardt wasn’t infected by his wife’s confidence and smirked. He then asked, “Would you like to hear my opinion?”

Queen Midela did not respond. It seemed like she didn’t want to hear it, but she also did not take a step away.

Emperor Reinhardt grinned slightly then went on, “I think we can make Joyce the Northern Duke… and then ask him to get engaged to Judy…”

“No!” Queen Midela interrupted him as soon as she heard her daughter’s name.

“Why not?” Emperor Reinhardt’s face suddenly darkened.

Queen Midela said each word distinctly, “I will not make my own daughter a political sacrifice!”

“So, getting married to Joyce is a sacrifice?”

“No, it has nothing to do with Joyce.” Queen Midela’s eyes flashed, “All marriages where one cannot make their own choices are tragedies, and thus sacrifices.”

Emperor Reinhardt couldn’t help but laugh, “So, is our marriage a tragedy?”

Queen Midela stared coldly into her husband’s eyes. After quite a while, she said faintly:

“Is it not?”

Emperor Reinhardt suddenly began to pant, an unnatural flush creeping up his face. He glared at his wife, his eyes filled with anger, indignation, and a naked desire to possess.

Queen Midela stood there, expressionless, seemingly ignoring her husband’s loss of composure, until he had slightly calmed herself down, she resumed:

“Your Majesty, do not forget our common goal. That is what makes it all meaningful. That is what we should pursue with our lives and strive to accomplish. We should not indulge in trivial sentiments between men and women, or fret over whether I love you.”

“You’re right, my Queen,” Emperor Reinhardt also finally seemed to have calmed down, speaking lightly, “Since you believe you can control Colin, it’d be best if you could prove it to me. I do not wish for empty assurances.”

“Alright.” Queen Midela gently nodded, then turned to leave.

Emperor Reinhardt watched his wife’s graceful figure recede, his gaze complex.