𝐈'𝐦 𝐚𝐧 𝐄𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥 (𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐃)

Chapter 68: What was Once Lost

The empire was breathing again. It had taken months of careful work, but the rot had been cut out, and in its place something steadier was growing.

The council meetings no longer ended with threats whispered under the table. The granaries were full. Even the nobles had learned to keep their mouths quiet.

The dark, turbulent days that had once defined our lives were finally fading into memory.

With the stabilization of our realm, Arsen and I had established a new routine. Every morning, before the world demanded anything from either of us, we had breakfast together in my private dining room. It was a sacred, quiet hour where we could just be ourselves.

No guards. No advisors. Just a warm breakfast, tea, and the kind of silence that didn't need to be filled. It had become the part of the day I looked forward to most.

That morning started no differently. The sun was streaming through the tall arched windows, casting a warm, golden glow over the table laden with fresh bread, fruits, smoked ham, and scrambled eggs.

Arsen was sitting across from me, his bright red hair catching the morning light as he enthusiastically recounted a particularly funny story of his latest hunting outing with Uncle Leander and my cousin, Orion.

I smiled, reaching for scrambled eggs, intending to join the conversation.

But the moment the scent of the food hit my nose, my stomach violently rebelled.

A wave of intense, dizzying nausea crashed over me so suddenly it stole my breath. I dropped my utensils, the clatter echoing sharply in the quiet room.

Before Arsen could even finish his sentence, I scrambled out of my chair, pressed a hand over my mouth, and bolted out of the dining room toward the adjacent washroom.

I didn't even have time to close the door before I was retching into the basin. My hands gripped the edge of the porcelain, knuckles white. My throat burned, and my chest heaved as my body convulsed with sudden sickness.

Through the haze of my misery, I heard hurried footsteps slam against the marble floor. Within seconds, Arsen was beside me.

Without a shred of hesitation or disgust, his large, warm hands reached forward, gently gathering my long hair and holding it securely back from my face. His other hand rubbed firm, soothing circles into my tense back.

When it passed, I wiped my mouth, shaking and humiliated.

"It's nothing," I said, trying to save my pride.

He grabbed a clean, damp cloth from the counter and gently wiped my mouth and forehead. His red eyes were wide with intense worry, his brow furrowed so deeply it looked painful.

"You're not fine. You're white as a sheet," he insisted, his hands hovering over me as if I were made of glass. "What happened? Are you in pain?"

"Probably just an upset stomach," I said dismissively.

"I'm calling the physician," he said. No room for argument.

I wanted to tell him it wasn't necessary, but the look on his face stopped me.

Within twenty minutes, the elderly royal physician arrived, looking thoroughly startled by the Emperor's frantic summons.

Arsen paced the floor like a caged beast while the physician checked me thoroughly. He pressed gently on my abdomen, checked my pulse, and asked a string of quiet questions about my recent fatigue and appetite—even about my period. I answered them impatiently, still convinced it was a minor passing illness.