Chapter – 25
Snow was falling.
It was such a heavy snowfall that my feet sank deep with every step.
With the whole world blanketed in white, I was moving forward desperately, gasping for breath.
‘This place….’
Wasn’t I just interrogating Blanche?
I had stood up to go rest after watching Yulion finish things—and then I collapsed.
And now, suddenly, I was standing alone outdoors. That in itself was absurd, but what was stranger was how familiar the scenery felt.
When I looked down, my hands were tiny.
They were wearing red gloves—ones that looked very much like the pair Mother had knitted for me herself.
I was bewildered, yet everything around me was achingly nostalgic.
“My lady, the weather is not good today. Would it not be better to return?”
At the voice from behind, I turned instinctively.
A tall man with a mole beneath his lower lip—Gail, one of the servants.
“My lady?”
The moment I saw him, I realized.
I was dreaming.
‘That dream again.’
A winter day when I was nine years old.
The day I treated my first patient.
At that time, because of Mother’s illness, we were staying at a villa deep within the Hail Mountains.
In the mornings, I would roam the mountains with Gail, gathering medicinal herbs. But that day was a little different.
‘Even though it’s a dream, I can feel the cold.’
The wind cut through my skin like blades.
Snow had fallen silently through the night, piling up to my ankles, making it difficult to move even a single step forward.
Gail was clearly hoping we would turn back for the day, but I stubbornly replied:
“Just a little farther. I heard there’s an herb that only blooms after heavy snowfall.”
The words flowed from my own mouth, yet because I was aware it was a dream, it all felt strangely foreign.
Gail hesitated, as if debating whether to persuade me further, then finally nodded and followed.
If we continued down this path, we would meet him.
My first patient.
“Please be careful, my lady.”
As expected, when we ventured deeper, I spotted a small lump half-buried in the snow.
Struggling through the drifts, I moved closer—and distinct features came into view.
Pitch-black hair stark against the white snow.
And pale cheeks, drained of all color and frozen stiff.
“…A person?”
My nine-year-old body instinctively stepped back.
But the faint sound of breathing stopped me.
“He’s breathing! Gail, dig out the snow on that side!”
We immediately began clearing the snow together.
Soon, the pitiful form of a boy was revealed.
His body was icy and rigid, his blood dried stiff against his skin.
His clothes were slashed, and his wounds were severe enough at a glance to show that he was in critical condition.
“This… his condition is serious. What shall we do?”
At the time, I had hesitated.
There wasn’t enough time to inform a physician.
He might die before help arrived.
Yet I lacked the confidence to treat him myself.
But the faint warmth of his living breath moved me.
“…I’ll treat him. He’s still alive.”
“As you wish. But should we not call someone? We alone can do nothing—”
Having made my decision, I quickly examined the boy’s condition.
I couldn’t fully heal him.
But I knew some basic emergency treatment, taught by Mother.
“There’s no time. Gail, you brought dry cloth, didn’t you? Give it to me. And clean water.”
It was the first time I treated someone with my own hands.
My heart pounded violently, and despite the winter cold, heat flushed through me.
‘Calm down, Rohiriel. Just do what you’ve learned.’
My younger self tore the cloth into strips, steadying her resolve.
‘Right now, I’m the only one who can do this.’
Looking back now, it was woefully inadequate treatment—clumsy and inexperienced.
But at the time, I poured all my strength into it.
Flustered though I was, I warmed his body, wrapped his wounds, disinfected them with the medicine we had brought.
And when that fading life revived beneath my fingertips—I still remember it vividly.
The sense of accomplishment.
Pride.
Fulfillment.
The release after pouring out everything.
And the exhilaration.
For a nine-year-old child, it was an overwhelmingly powerful sensation.
My whole body felt damp.
The faint sound of voices pulled me back to reality.
“Then… we should… first…”
“Before that… the front…”
I wanted to fall back asleep.
If I continued the dream, perhaps Mother would appear.
“…the poison… symptoms…”
“…at best… will die…”
Perhaps because I hadn’t fully awakened yet, the conversation came to me in fragments.
‘So that’s why that old memory appeared in my dream.’
When the body weakens, so does the heart.
It seemed I had truly been hovering at death’s door.
“Blood test…”
“…no longer than… will die…”
At a few words that pierced clearly through the haze, I snapped fully awake.
Come to think of it—who examined me after I collapsed?
Forcing my heavy eyelids open, I saw the now-familiar ceiling of Garnet Palace.
And Yulion, his face tense with thought.
Beside him stood a silver-haired elderly man I did not recognize, explaining something.
With difficulty, I parted my dry lips.
“…Yu…lion.”
Even to myself, my cracked voice was startlingly faint.
Though it was barely louder than an ant’s whisper, Yulion immediately stopped speaking and looked at me.
His straight golden eyes fixed on me.
When our gazes met, they widened ever so slightly—and trembled.
‘They kind of resemble him…’
Perhaps it was because I hadn’t fully shaken off the dream, but for a moment, Yulion overlapped with the frail boy from long ago.
“Rohiriel.”
Yulion leaned down and placed his hand on my forehead.
His warmth felt pleasant—but only for a moment. The word “blood test” echoed in my mind.
And judging by his serious expression, he had learned something about my condition.
“Are you conscious?”
“Yes, I’m fine. More than that… I’m thirsty.”
“Ah, one moment.”
He poured water into a glass from the one set beside him.
“Here.”
“…Thank you.”
As I accepted the glass, I tried to piece together the situation.
Where was Jenid? Why was Yulion doing attendant duties?
I glanced around the bedroom. Aside from the elderly man watching me with concern and Yulion with his grim expression, no one else was present.
Noticing my searching look, Yulion spoke quietly.
“I told Head Maid Jenid to rest. She has not slept a single moment while tending to you.”
“…I see.”
Then something struck me as strange.
Not slept at all?
With unease creeping in, I asked carefully:
“Was I… asleep for a long time?”
I couldn’t quite bring myself to ask if I had been unconscious.
Yulion arched a brow and answered flatly:
“Exactly two days and half a day. You were unconscious.”
I was doomed.
I must have been branded a chronic invalid.
Strictly speaking, I was ill—but it wasn’t serious. I would recover soon enough.
Still, I couldn’t very well say that eating the rare golden flower Apherium would cure me, so I offered an awkward smile instead.
“Why are you smiling? What is there to smile about?”
Scolded even for smiling—how unfair.
“Why are you angry? I’m sorry for causing such a fuss. What happened to Blanche?”
“Is that what matters? You were unconscious for over two days, yet you do not even ask what is wrong with you.”
“Well…”
I had no answer.
I already knew the reason, so I felt no need to ask.
But Yulion interpreted my silence in his own way and let out a tight sigh.
“It seems Physician Bamid was correct.”
“Physician Bamid…?”
My gaze shifted naturally to the elderly man who had been watching me.
As our eyes met, he bowed politely.
“I feared interrupting Your Highness’s conversation. I am Bamid, senior physician of the royal infirmary.”
“Oh, the one who said blood tests could be done in the palace.”
“Indeed, Your Highness.”
He was the physician to whom I had entrusted Ares’s blood test.
I wanted to ask whether he truly was from the Kingdom of Yalon—and whether he might know my mother.
“Physician Bamid said that you are the one who knows your body’s condition best.”
Yulion’s cool voice cut off any further thought.
“My body’s condition? What do you mean? I’m fi—”
“Are you about to say you’re fine again?”
“I truly am fi—”
“You are not fine. I know that.”
At this point, I almost wanted to finish the word out of spite.
Since he wouldn’t even let me speak properly, I simply shut my mouth instead, irritated.
