Grant Me Your Grace

Hissin asked, looking at Lewisia in the shadow of the window.

“Did you say healing, the meaning of this flower?”

“Yes. The story goes that long ago, an angel descended upon a land of plague and famine and shed tears for their suffering, and those tears fell to the ground and became the flower of the lewisia, which was eaten, and the plague was lifted from the land.”

The tears of an angel who was grieved by people’s suffering turned into flowers and healed them.

 It’s a story that could have been told anywhere. Unless one was a child, it would not impress anyone.

But Hissin smiled innocently, as if moved by the story.

“It is indeed a sacred flower.”

It was Dahlia’s face that flashed through his mind at this moment.

The face that had trembled as her wrists were grabbed. The way she was embarrassed by her exposed spots, flushed red as she tried to swallow the rising breath that came with each kiss.

Dahlia’s face, with its troubled eyes and loving lips, spelling my name.

“I want to keep it with me always.”

The moment, Hissin placed the petals upon his fingertips as if they were the holy relics of a noble god.

“Lewisia is a light-sensitive plant. If it doesn’t see sunlight, it withers quickly.”

Hovan said coldly. To others, it sounded like he was scolding Hissin for trying to take the offerings he had received from the faithful for himself.

But Hissin was unfazed, smiling brightly.

“That’s how I feel, but I have no intention of stealing from you and your deep desire to help others. I’ll keep this pot and tend to it with you.”

‘For you will always be with me.’ 

With a soft smile, Hissin turned and left the temple, followed by the high priest and priests.

Alone, Hovan stared after Hissin’s retreating form with a strange gaze. Clouds were gathering in the once-clear sky.

✨

The rain started early in the morning and lasted well into the night.

Dahlia sighed softly as she looked at the sky, which had turned frighteningly gray after days of sunshine.

“Your Highness, I don’t think it will be possible to go to the temple to pray…”

Bertha, who had served meat soup for dinner, said worriedly. 

If the slender Princess were to stay out in this rain, she was sure she’d be sick with a boiling fever tomorrow morning.

“It can’t be helped. We can’t do anything but stay put today…”

Dahlia gazed out the window, her eyes filled with regret. Through the haze of water, stained by the hard rain, the torch-lit temple was a blur.

Resting her arms on the window sill, Dahlia craned her neck to look at the distant temple.

‘Have you seen the flowers?’ 

Surely they would have placed a pot of lewisia by the window, next to the moonshine.

It would be nice if Hovan could tell him it was a gift from me, but that’s probably not going to happen. Hovan was a strict, principled man.

It would have been a huge deviation for him to leave with Dahlia’s flowerpot, which was strictly forbidden to outsiders.

Dahlia decided to content herself with the thought that Hissin had seen the plant, and if they ever met again, he would know the meaning of the gift she had given him, intentionally or otherwise.

That thought made her feel better. Dahlia pursed her lips and hummed a small tune, praying that the clouds would not dissipate into the rain.

And then she heard.

“Your Majesty, Priest Hovan is here.”

“Priest Hovan?”

A chill ran through my chest at his unexpected appearance. He would not come in the middle of the night to tell her about the Lewisian flowers.

Dahlia swallowed dryly and beckoned Hovan into the room.

“Good evening, Your Highness.”

Hovan bowed politely. His face was as grim as a dark cloud.

It was only three or four times a year that Saltar took Dahlia’s blood for personal gain. The more often the sacred blood was used, the less valuable it became.

The more precious something was hidden, the more valuable it became.

But this was already the second blood. It had only been a month since they’d taken the blood. 

No matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise, Dahlia instinctively rejected it.

She entered the prayer chamber with no way to escape and looked fearfully toward the Hovan.

“I thought General Abbasih was already healed… who else was injured?”

She asked, assuming it was something Saltar had asked.

“It’s not the Crown Prince this time, Your Highness.”

“Is it?”

Hovan bowed his head and spoke gravely.

“They say His Imperial Majesty the Emperor has fallen.”

The Emperor has fallen, Dahlia thought, her eyes glazing over at the unbelievable story. Barely able to compose herself, she asked Hovan in a stuttering voice.

“Did His Ma… Ma… what happened?”

“I didn’t get the full story, but it sounded pretty serious. I heard that he’s barely breathing…”

“What about the imperial physician!”

I shouted, my voice rising in urgency. But Dahlia knew the answer to that question better than anyone.

And what it meant to seek divine power.

“…Come on, quickly.”

Dahlia quickly sat up in her chair and lifted her skirt. The suddenness of her behavior made Hovan quickly turn his head.

This was not filial piety for her parents.

For Dahlia, the Emperor was her last shield. With the Empress gone, the only one in her family who cared about her, and the Emperor finally turning a blind eye? 

With Saltar on the throne, who knows, maybe he wouldn’t even consider her a princess at all.

Or perhaps she’d be locked away in the middle of nowhere, drained of blood for the rest of her life.

Being treated like no more than a person.

In that eternal hell.

“Give me the dagger. Come on.”

Dahlia didn’t even give Hovan time to shield his eyes. In her haste, she snatched the dagger from his hand and slashed at her thigh before he could protest.

“Your Highness!”

Her hasty hand tore through the raw flesh, leaving a deeper gash than usual.

The pain was blinding, but there was no time to dwell on it. With trembling hands, Dahlia lifted the vial to catch the gushing blood.

The jar quickly filled with hot blood.

“Take it, please.”

For a moment, Hovan stared at the blood-stained bottle in disbelief. Then Hovan took it, and confessed that he had dared to look at the Princess’s body.

“I apologize, Your Majesty, I dared to commit disrespect.”

“It’s all right, go on, just go.”

“I will return to see what the situation is.”

“It’s okay if you don’t come back, I’ll find out in time anyway…”

I didn’t know why the Emperor was out for my blood, but I had a bad feeling about it. If Hovan ever returned, I would certainly not be able to face him properly.

“…May the Goddess Nuit be with you, Your Highness.”

With a short blessing in a somber voice, Hovan hurriedly left the prayer chamber.

Dahlia pressed a dry towel to her thighs. The tattered flesh of her thighs pulsed with oozing blood. Her clothes were now stained with blood.

Dahlia pressed harder against the wound. She took a few deep breaths, and it wasn’t long before she felt her flesh completely heal.

She busied herself and cleaned up her surroundings. It was unlikely, but in case someone came looking for her while she was away and found her, they might see the bloody mess.

Using unskilled hands, it took several towels to wipe up a single spattering of blood. 

Only when the rain washed away all the blood, even her clothes, could Dahlia sit down on the sidewalk chair.

“Hah…”

Dahlia let out a long breath and closed her weary eyes. She leaned back into the hard seat, but the tension was still there.

If she recovers, her body would soon be covered with spots and pain.

Where and how did it happen? An assassin’s attack? An illness hidden from everyone?

Could it be just one spot? Or many?

The unanswered questions made Dahlia even more nervous. 

Even as she waited for the spots to appear, she was scared and anxious, not knowing where or how it would hurt.

This was the first time the Emperor had ever been in critical condition, and everything was frightening.

“I must return to my room.”

With a second thought, Dahlia hurriedly gathered her things and left the prayer chamber. If the pain started outside, it would be a problem.

Dahlia made her way across the long hallway to her bedchamber.

“Your Highness, are you home?”

Waiting at the door to her bedroom, Bertha greeted her. But she couldn’t have anyone around right now.

“Bertha, I want to rest alone and quietly from now on, so please take all the maids back to their rooms.”

“All of them? In case there’s anything you need us for…”

“There won’t be tonight, so please.”

Dahlia urged impatiently, and as if she thought there was a reason for this, Bertha stopped protesting.

“Yes, I understand, Your Highness.”

Dahlia strode into the bedroom, leaving Bertha behind.

“Uh, Your Highness, your clothes are all wet…”

But before she could finish her sentence, the bedroom door slammed shut. Scratching her head, Bertha soon returned to her chamber on the first floor, with all the maids on the bedroom floor.