"Can he not be saved?" Isolde's face was pale from the cold, the blood on her sword still uncleaned.
She mechanically raised the sword, preparing to strike the physician who dared deliver this verdict.
She didn't want to kill. She just didn't want to accept reality.
Sylas... killed by her? This? This was simply absurd!
She loved Sylas so much, how could she have killed him?
Knowing death was imminent, the physician decided to gamble everything: "Your Majesty!
No matter how many you kill now, the Lord's life cannot be saved!
There is little time left.
Please, go be with him!"
"Kill?" Isolde looked blankly at her hand, then glanced around, seeing the pools of blood.
Then, she gave a bitter laugh, casually dropped the sharp sword, and walked into the Hall of Serenity.
As the sword clattered to the ground, the physicians' hearts settled back into their chests.
Many were already thinking of offering thanks to the heavens later, grateful to have survived.
Isolde slowly approached Sylas's bedside. Looking at his paper-white face, she murmured, "No medicine works at all?"
The physicians hurriedly wiped their cold sweat and replied, "We have used the finest spiritual medicines. They can barely sustain life for three days. After three days..."
"Keep using them then."
"After three days... the medicines will lose all effect..."
Isolde sat dazedly on the edge of the bed, reaching out to touch Sylas's face.
He was unconscious; medicine had to be pried between his teeth and forced down.
"Go search. Search for miraculous elixirs. Go..." Isolde's voice had grown weak.
This was the most helpless she had felt since ascending the throne.
One must remember, this Empress of Aethelred was known for her iron will and ruthlessness.
Yet now, she actually showed vulnerability.
All the physicians showed expressions of fear.
The consequences of seeing the Empress like this were unthinkable.
"Go, go. Don't waste time." Isolde waved her hand. They hurried out.
The hall was empty of others.
Isolde stroked Sylas's face, sitting in quiet stupefaction.
Then, she suddenly felt a slight fullness in her lower abdomen, a sensation similar to needing to urinate.
She touched her stomach. Flat and smooth.
But she knew. This was the child Sylas had given her.
For a moment, Isolde wished she could cut open her own belly and return Sylas's essence to him.
But she knew it was useless.
Her mind was in chaos. She just sat there vacantly.
Perhaps the medicine took effect. Sylas finally woke.
He opened his lifeless eyes and saw Isolde sitting by the bed, spaced out.
He finally smiled in relief.
Good. It's finally ending.
"You're awake?" Isolde asked softly, her tone numb.
She simply couldn't accept the current situation, so she believed it was all an illusion.
Someone in extreme pain cannot express their sorrow immediately.
"Isolde, I'm dying. Finally, I can die," Sylas said weakly, smiling.
"I don't want you to die." Isolde caressed his face, his ears, then his hair, her tone becoming wavering.
"Let's not die, okay? Please, don't die, alright?" She actually began to beg.
The exalted Empress of a nation was begging a conquered slave not to die.
"No. I'm dying. Your goals are achieved.
Lyonesse is destroyed by you.
An heir is given to you.
You are satisfied.
I am satisfied.
Oh, and you can probably use this child to deal with your sister too.
Heh. Your Majesty, how is my final stratagem?" Sylas sounded like he was saying goodbye.
"Wuuu..." Isolde finally began to cry. The pain inside could no longer be contained; her body had reached its limit.
She collapsed onto Sylas, her tears unstoppable. She cried until the bedding was soaked.
Only after releasing some of the inner agony did she look up at Sylas with swollen eyes, murmuring, "See, I'm crying for you. Don't die, okay?
Lord Sylas, don't die. I... I'm begging you, alright?
I've never begged anyone in my life. I beg you."
She thought Sylas was joking with her.
She thought if she humbled herself, Sylas would live.
God would give me a chance to make amends. It must!
"It's no use..." Sylas shook his head slightly. He turned his face towards the inside of the bed, quietly waiting for the medicine's effect to fade.
"Don't... don't... wuuu... don't..." Isolde became unreasonable.
She shuffled closer, held Sylas's forehead, and kept kissing him.
Large teardrops fell on his face.
"Don't die. How can you do this?
I... I'll give Lyonesse back to you, okay?
Or... or I'll give you Aethelred too...
Just don't die."
She had completely shed her identity as Empress, wronged like a little girl saying goodbye to a loved one.
"Ah..." Sylas only sighed deeply, not saying another word.
Isolde grabbed his wrist, crying as she examined the gold chain.
After looking closely, she covered her mouth and cried, "This isn't the Servant's Chain.
Sylas, you are so cruel.
You just... You gave me no chance at all?
I know I was wrong, alright?
My ancestral teachings forbid me from indulging in beauty.
I didn't mean to be like this. I really... I know I was wrong."
She kept confessing, kept apologizing.
Until the sky gradually lightened, she finally stopped crying.
Isolde sat sorrowfully by the bed, leaning against it, eyes swollen, hair disheveled.
Palace maids wanted to enter. But no one dared risk her wrath.
Isolde didn't continue her lamentations anymore. She knew it was useless to say anything now.
She only asked softly, "Did Jade remove the Servant's Chain for you?"
"No."
"Then who?"
"Her Grace, the Duchess of Arbor."
Isolde let out a long sigh.
She felt nothing but bitterness in her chest.
Her tone grew even flatter, as if nothing in the world mattered anymore.
She asked, "Did Celeste ever bully you?"
Sylas used his last ounce of venom to speak lies.
Now, he finally displayed the prowess of a Lyonesse strategist: "She often summoned me to her manor and made me share her bed."
"Ah..." Isolde was completely broken.
Her hand rested on her warm belly, where she could actually feel the flutter of a small life.
She said softly, "Did she want to seize your essence?"
"Yes."
"Sylas, you are truly cruel..." After saying this, Isolde simply sat on the floor, quietly waiting for time to pass.
Maids bringing food arrived at the door. They stood respectfully before Isolde and said, "Your Majesty, it is time for the meal."
"Can you eat?" Isolde asked faintly, looking ahead dejectedly.
Sylas thought for a moment, and surprisingly agreed: "Alright."
"Then let me help you up." Isolde slowly stood and helped Sylas sit up on the bed.
The maids set up the dining table.
Isolde began to eat with Sylas.
The morning sunlight streamed into the room. Even in winter, it held a trace of warmth. But this warmth could no longer heat the icy palace.