Isolde had never shared a meal like this with Sylas.
When they met, it was never for anything else.
Even when they ate, it was hurriedly finished before... well.
She never imagined that at the end of Sylas's life, she would finally share a peaceful meal with him.
Sustained by the spiritual medicine, Sylas gradually regained a sliver of energy.
He knew he was dying. So he spoke without much restraint.
He began to chat with Isolde.
Sylas was knowledgeable and thoughtful.
Now, discussing various topics with Isolde, he possessed a truly intoxicating charisma.
Isolde ate and conversed with him. Only now did she appreciate this other side of Sylas.
This noble son truly lived up to being the Jewel of Lyonesse.
He knew so many things, understood so many principles.
He must have read countless books and remembered them all.
He was truly a stalk of emerald green bamboo.
Only, she was like a bamboo-eating beast, ruthlessly chewing this tender bamboo to pulp.
"Actually, Victoria's approach is correct.
The various factions in Aethelred are deeply intertwined.
Without a strong dose of medicine, it cannot be cured.
She just moved too fast.
If I were her, I would first test it in one region, then slowly implement the new policies over three to five years.
It's a pity she wouldn't listen." Sylas drank his porridge, speaking unhurriedly.
When discussing these matters, he had an unprecedented charm and confidence, as if he were the most radiant presence in the entire Hall of Serenity.
Isolde shot him a look. "Why didn't you say this before?"
"Why would I? Did you ever let me speak?" Sylas complained.
"Ah..." Isolde didn't want to argue anymore.
After they finished eating, Sylas said he wanted to stroll in the imperial gardens.
Isolde had a pushchair prepared.
She pushed Sylas, walking slowly through the cold garden.
He came to the lake, looked at the frozen surface, showed no disappointment, and just stared blankly at the ice.
Isolde, suppressing her grief, asked faintly, "Any last wishes?"
Sylas: "Can you bury me in Ravenhold? I wish my soul to return home."
Isolde said dissatisfied, "Not ideal. I want you to stay with me. When we have a daughter later, we can visit your grave and make offerings together."
Sylas didn't argue.
He said instead, "Then bury me in the east. I want to look towards Lyonesse."
"Ah..." Isolde didn't refuse again.
She pushed Sylas onward through the gardens.
Then, she saw a slender young woman in a black cloak, weeping as she ran towards them.
The fury in Isolde's chest surged forth.
But remembering Sylas was near death, she decided not to erupt in front of him.
She mercilessly stopped her sister, asking coldly, "Celeste, what are you doing here? How dare you enter the imperial gardens without my permission?"
"Sister, Sister... you..."
Celeste truly wanted to ask, how could you be so cruel?
But she couldn't bring herself to ask.
Instead, she bowed her head, frantically searching through her storage pouch.
Then, she pulled out several exquisite jade vials, "Sister, this medicine might work. Please save him."
"What medicine?" Isolde, before she could get angry, snatched them over.
But then, the hope in her eyes turned into deep disappointment.
She returned the medicine to the weeping Celeste, "It's no use. The physicians have already used it."
"Ah? Used it? Then this, this one..." Celeste disgracefully sprawled on the ground, pulling out all the spiritual medicines from her pouch.
The once aloof and melancholic Duchess of Arbor was now in this state.
Sylas said softly, "Your Grace, it's no use."
The Academy of Medicine had already used the best medicines on him.
Not even a god could save him now.
"Celeste, leave. I don't want to see you now," Sylas closed his eyes.
"Lord Sylas..."
Isolde snorted coldly and pushed Sylas away.
Celeste remained kneeling in the cold garden, prostrate on the ground, weeping bitterly.
...
Three days passed quickly. The spiritual medicine had lost its effect. Other medicines were useless now.
Night had fallen.
Sylas sat quietly in the pushchair, looking at the decorations in the small courtyard, his breathing growing weaker.
Isolde stood beside him, holding his hand, following his gaze, unsure what he was seeing.
Fireworks bloomed outside the palace. Brilliant red light illuminated the sky.
Sylas watched the fireworks fade, his pupils beginning to dilate.
"Victoria wants to see you..." Isolde said softly.
Sylas could no longer speak. He shook his head slightly.
"Understood." Isolde said no more. She just sniffled, accompanying him on his final journey.
Sylas suddenly took a deep breath. He was experiencing a final rally.
His hand lifted, as if trying to grasp something.
Isolde hurriedly held it, asking softly, "What do you want? Tell me."
Sylas's breathing was already labored.
He managed a difficult moan, "Bel... belly..."
Isolde was startled, then took his hand and placed it on her lower abdomen.
It seemed this dying man ultimately couldn't let go of the unborn descendant.
"Uh..." Sylas's hand gradually lost strength.
Isolde's tears began to fall.
She leaned close to Sylas's ear and whispered, "I've already named the child.
She will be called 'Sylene' of Aethelred." (Note: 'Sylene' implies 'remembering Sylas')
Sylas seemed to hear, yet seemed not to.
His head tilted to the side, and finally, his breathing ceased.
Whoosh!
Bang!
A firework exploded in the air, like a blooming peony.
Then, the firework faded, and the sky returned to darkness.
Isolde cupped his now-limp head, letting it rest against her, and stood silently like that through the night.
As dawn arrived, the sound of Isolde's grievous crying finally echoed through the courtyard.
...
The court of Aethelred began to shake as if by earthquake.
Victoria, who had seemingly been chastened, after three or four days of silence, maniacally promulgated the laws she had drafted.
She was like a spark, causing Aethelred's powder keg to explode completely.
Imperial authority and ministerial authority should have clashed head-on at this moment.
But the most capable Empress in Aethelred's history did not confront the mad Victoria.
Instead, she was like a tigress released from its cage, savagely attacking the Duchess of Arbor.
In short order, the Duchess's faction was uprooted.
Even Celeste herself was exiled to the borderlands, never to return.
Isolde and Victoria, who should have been facing each other directly, now each had their own enemies.
Eliminating the Duchess undoubtedly strengthened Victoria's position.
But she was like an arrow shot from the bow, fighting like a madwoman against the nobles obstructing reform.
Her beloved was dead; she had no restraints left.
The rest of her life would be dedicated solely to battle.
Sylas was buried in the Mountains east of Lorynth.
The scenery was elegant, with clear waters and green mountains, and it housed the imperial mausoleums.
However, the coffin that held his body contained only burial goods, no corpse.
One month later, in a residence in Celestia Ridge County.
Sylas, who had clearly died, suddenly woke up.