I was lying on the bed when I felt cooldness against my skin. Mister George was gently placing cold patches on my forehead—and over the scar near my shoulder. He had sterilized my wounds, wrapped them carefully in bandages, and given me natural remedies and medicine. Slowly, painfully, my body began to respond again. I could move. I could breathe without fire in my chest.
When I finally managed to sit up, I whispered, "Sir… you are very kind. Thank you so much."
He looked at me and laughed softly.
"My wife was from Salvania," he said. "She died years ago. She loved this city deeply—even though she hated the monarchy and the bondage they used. Still, she loved the people. So helping one of them… even from the monarchy… feels right."
I smiled weakly. "Salvania has a bad reputation, then."
"Yes," he replied, "but not its people. They are known for their warmth and kindness."
I hesitated, then asked, "But how did you know who I was, sir?"
He grew serious. "I heard the whispers—that Queen Margaret of Salvania had been kidnapped. I watched them more carefully than the guards watch the king. I was waiting for this day. I knew you would need help."
He moved toward a table and picked up a photograph. It was an old one—a woman smiling softly.
"My wife," he said. "Sabrina. Helping you may honor her memory."
He handed me the picture. I studied her face and smiled. "You can tell immediately she was from Salvania."
He chuckled. "George. My name is George."
"Yes… Mister George," I said gently.
He sat beside me on the bed. "So, Your Majesty… what will you do now?"
"I know someone will come," I said with certainty. "One way or another. I must wait for him—and that's why I need to go out undercover, to find him."
He raised a brow. "Ah… that boy. Your lover."
I sighed. "Why does everyone say that?"
"Well," he smiled, "that's what I heard."
"No," I said firmly. "Laury is not my lover. He is the boy I chose to train my soldiers. You cannot imagine how they were before him."
George nodded slowly. "You trust him too easily. That's why they say he is your lover."
"I'm not offended," I admitted, then—before I could stop myself—I continued.
"He has perfect abs, blond straight hair with a neat bang on his forehead, and eyes like the ocean—deep enough to see the man he truly is. He's strong. The beginning between us wasn't good, but I learned he is kind. His ideas are rare. He is a natural leader."
George cleared his throat loudly, eyes fixed on the floor, his glasses slipping down his nose.
"Well," he said, "that is very clear. Definitely not your lover."
I laughed. "He isn't. I'm just being truthful. When he comes—and I'm sure he will—you'll see."
George laughed like a father proud of his daughter's choices. Then his expression darkened.
"There is something you should know. These medicines won't last long. You must find the wizard who created the poison."
"A wizard?"
"Yes. He lives in the north—in a city surrounded by enormous walls. There are only three gates. They open once a year for merchants—and only for five days."
He took out a paper and showed me a drawing. A majestic key was painted on it.
"There are three keys. One is in the king's castle—impossible to reach. One belongs to the wizard himself, inside that dark city. The last one… is your only hope. It's owned by an unknown man in the lands around the city. He may not even know what the key is for. That place is… another world. I've been there many times."
My heart sank. "Then I don't have much time. Elara doesn't either."
"Elara?" he asked.
"A girl from my people. She was with me when I was injected."
George nodded slowly. "Then that boy—Laury—must be quick."