The Great Wish - Chapter 34: The Last Dream (4)

‘So this is the greenhouse,’ Ben thought as he followed Patricia inside, his eyes darting around, trying to memorize as many details as possible. He knew that this was no ordinary errand.

Ben had been entrusted with a special task by the Silver King herself. He recalled Sienna’s words to him vividly:

“Keep an eye on the Red King’s greenhouse, Ben. She’s been known to have strange herbs and concoctions. If you ever get the chance, study what she has there. Report everything to me, but make sure she never finds out I’m interested in her greenhouse. It must remain a secret.”

Ben had been deeply motivated by Sienna’s encouragement. He had been wracking his brain over how to casually bring up the greenhouse to Patricia without raising her suspicions. The Red King was known to be sharp and distrustful. If she sensed anything unusual, the whole plan would be over. But now, the opportunity had presented itself without him needing to force it.

Patricia led the way deeper into the greenhouse. It was sectioned off by translucent glass walls, with iron-barred doors separating each area. They passed through each section, opening the locked doors one by one. Though Ben could see through the iron bars into the next section, the pathway always took a turn, meaning he couldn’t see the entire layout at once. Each new room revealed another door, leading deeper into the labyrinth of the greenhouse.

Finally, Patricia slowed her pace, signaling that they had reached their destination.

‘There’s another door here,’ Ben noted, counting. They had passed through nine doors already.

“You know the Silver King’s condition is serious, don’t you?” Patricia asked, her voice low and controlled.

“Yes,” Ben replied, his concern genuine. He wasn’t faking his worry—he truly cared for Sienna’s well-being.

“That one,” Patricia said, pointing to a plant with long, slender leaves.

“Pull it out.”

“What?” Ben asked, taken aback.

“Don’t let too many people handle it, or the roots will dry out, and its potency will be lost. And don’t let it touch any metal. Use your hands to dig up the soil.”

Ben hesitated only briefly before crouching down and carefully using his hands to dig around the plant. He uncovered most of the roots before pulling the herb from the earth.

“You’ll take it outside the palace and then return with it. If the gate inspectors ask, tell them it’s for the Silver King.”

Patricia’s instructions were precise. The herb, if categorized strictly, could be considered a poisonous plant. By having Ben exit the palace and re-enter with it, she was creating a paper trail that would make it look as if the herb had been brought in from the outside.

“When I’m present, show the herb to the physician and tell him it’s a potent remedy for the Silver King’s fever. I’ll handle the rest.”

On the third day, the physician’s prescribed medicines had still not worked. Sienna’s fever refused to break.

Patricia had spent the entire night by Sienna’s bedside, watching over her daughter.

‘You’ve caused your mother so much grief, and now you’re sick? If only you’d upset me with something else,’ Patricia thought, bitterness swirling within her. Sienna had always been perfect, always strong. But now, lying helplessly in bed, she looked fragile, like she could break at any moment. Patricia had never felt such pity for her daughter, not even when she was a newborn.

As she wiped the sweat from Sienna’s brow, a wave of emotion welled up in Patricia’s chest. She was startled by the depth of her maternal feelings, unsure if she had ever felt such tenderness before.

Ben entered the room that morning, his face set with determination.

“I’ve acquired a rare herb from a personal contact. It will surely bring down Her Majesty’s fever,” Ben announced.

The physician immediately protested.

“I’ve never seen such a herb before. Do you even know what it is that you’re giving to the Silver King?”

Patricia, with one commanding statement, settled the matter.

“There are no other options, are there? I will take full responsibility. Prepare the herb and give it to the Silver King.”

Administering the herb to the unconscious Sienna was a delicate process. A maid propped Sienna up while Patricia fed her the medicine, spoonful by spoonful, ensuring that it didn’t go down the wrong way and choke her. They nearly poured it into her mouth to avoid it entering her windpipe.

Then, they waited anxiously.

Two hours later, the physician’s face lit up in what seemed like triumph.

“The fever has broken.”

Both Patricia and Beth exhaled deeply in relief, almost at the same time.

“Everyone leave. I will watch over the Silver King. If anything is needed, I’ll call for you,” Patricia ordered.

When the room cleared, Patricia stayed behind, wiping Sienna’s parched lips with a warm cloth. Suddenly, Sienna’s eyelashes fluttered. Patricia stiffened.

“Silver King? Are you awake?”

Sienna’s eyes fluttered a few more times before she slowly opened them.

“Silver King.”

Sienna turned her gaze toward the voice.

“It’s your mother. Do you recognize me? Can you hear me?”

“Mother….”

“Oh, thank the heavens. It’s all right now,” Patricia said, her relief palpable.

But Sienna’s response was unexpected. Her voice, hoarse and strained, sounded more like a pained groan.

“Why did you do it?” she asked.

Patricia froze. “What?”

“Why… did you have to do it?” Sienna whispered.

“Silver King…”

“I hate you, Mother.”

Tears welled up in Sienna’s eyes and began to spill down her cheeks.

“I resent you… You and I… We’re tied by a cursed fate.”

Sienna’s eyes closed once more, and soon her breathing steadied, signaling that she had fallen back into a deep sleep.

Patricia stood frozen, unable to move. Her brow furrowed, muscles tensing and relaxing as conflicting emotions passed over her face. Her eyes, fixed on her daughter, trembled with turmoil.

Meanwhile, in the reception room, Beth paced nervously in her mobility chair, itching to check on Sienna’s condition. She knew she couldn’t interrupt. It was rare for Patricia and Sienna to have such a private moment, and she didn’t want to provoke the Red King by intruding. Especially now, when things seemed to be improving between them.

When the bedroom door opened, Beth quickly turned her head. Patricia emerged.

“Red King,” Beth said, immediately noticing the strange expression on Patricia’s face.

“Are you all right? Did something happen to the Silver King?”

“Hm? No, she woke up briefly, and we spoke. The fever has gone down further. You may go in.”

“Yes, Red King.”

Beth turned her wheelchair and watched as the door behind Patricia closed. Something about Patricia’s expression had seemed off, but Beth quickly pushed the thought aside, her mind focused entirely on seeing Sienna.

As Sienna’s fever broke, her recovery was swift. Within half a day, her body temperature had returned to normal. The physician, after confirming there were no lasting effects from the fever, finally withdrew.

Despite having been unconscious for days, Sienna showed no signs of the typical frailty one might expect. Her skin still glowed with vitality, and her eyes were clear and sharp. However, Beth noticed something different about her—a subtle, indescribable change.

It could have been that Sienna, who had never experienced such a severe illness before, was merely reacting to the unfamiliarity of it all. Beth dismissed her feelings as just that—her imagination.

By evening, Sienna had already risen from bed. Beth, concerned, advised her to rest longer, but Sienna shook her head, insisting she was fine. After a bath and a change of clothes, Sienna seemed to have completely returned to her usual self.

“Your Highness, until just before you woke, the Red King was here, tending to you,” Beth said, hoping that this might help mend the cold relationship between mother and daughter.

“Was she?” Sienna replied with a detached tone.

“She was terribly worried about you, Your Highness. It was the Red King who insisted on using the medicine that ultimately brought down your fever. Without her determination, the physician would never have used it,” Beth continued, trying to paint Patricia in a better light.

Sienna simply looked at Beth for a long moment before letting out a faint, almost mocking smile.

“You’re quite the optimist, aren’t you?”

Beth flushed, feeling slightly embarrassed by her obvious attempts to praise the Red King.

“She’s not an easy person, I’ll admit,” Beth murmured, her emotions conflicted. “But that’s how she has managed to secure and maintain her position. In comparison, most of the Blue Kings or Red Kings in history were largely irreLevan.”

Sienna listened without reaction, her face unreadable.

“Your Highness, forgive me if I overstep, but some of the Red King’s ambitions were not just for herself, but for you as well,” Beth said, her voice soft with sincerity.

Sienna remained indifferent, unmoved by Beth’s words. They had no impact on her heart, which remained distant from her mother’s actions.

“Your Highness, perhaps visiting the Red King and offering her some comfort would…” Beth began, but Sienna interrupted.

“Did you inform her that I had woken?”

“Yes, Your Highness. I assumed she would rush back immediately, but it’s been quiet. The maid who went to the Red King’s palace wasn’t able to meet her.”

“Then that’s enough,” Sienna said, brushing aside the suggestion.

“Your Highness …”

Sienna rose from the sofa.

“I feel stiff. I’ll go for a walk.”

“Your Highness, you’ve only just recovered… It’s getting late,” Beth cautioned.

“What does it matter if it’s late?” Sienna replied, dismissing the concern.

Beth watched helplessly as Sienna left the room, unable to stop her.

Is there something more going on between them that I don’t know? Beth wondered. Sienna’s attitude toward the Red King seemed even colder than before, and Beth felt a growing sense of unease. But it wasn’t her place to interfere in the complex relationship between mother and daughter.

Sienna walked with a maid by her side holding a lantern, and several steps behind her, knights followed in silence. There was no set destination in her mind—she simply walked, letting her feet carry her where they would. The feelings of loss, emptiness, and sorrow from her last dream still weighed heavily on her heart.

The truth she had learned in that final dream had been shocking. At the same time, she scolded herself for her foolishness. Why hadn’t she considered that the two of them might have had a child? It wasn’t as though children were born only out of love. Most noble families in the Empire married and had children for far more practical reasons.

Had she learned the truth much earlier, perhaps when she first started having those dreams, it wouldn’t have shocked her as much. The knowledge might have surprised her, but not devastated her as it did now.

The day after the dream, Sienna had shut herself away in her chambers, thinking endlessly about the fate of the Emperor and the Sky King. She analyzed every detail, trying to piece together what must have happened. She placed herself in the Emperor’s shoes, understanding how she would have acted.

The Emperor in the dream was her, after all. She could predict what would have happened. That meeting would indeed have been the last between them. The Sky King would never have returned to the capital, and the Emperor would never have gone to Blackmist Castle to see him.

But the child… Did she ever see him, even once, after that day?

Sienna didn’t know. As much as she could imagine herself as the Emperor, she had no idea what kind of mother she might become. But there was one thing she understood clearly now—why the Emperor had distanced herself from her son.

If a child were born between Kuhn and me, he wouldn’t be of divine blood.

A child of the emperor without divine blood would face a miserable fate. They wouldn’t be recognized as a royal, nor would they be entered into the imperial family’s records.

The imperial family valued lineage above all, so while celibacy wasn’t expected, any relationships had to result in offspring of divine blood. Many past emperors had lovers, much like the current emperor, but no child born from a non-noble lover was ever acknowledged. Whether such children existed at all was uncertain, but none were officially recorded.

Sienna stopped walking and lifted her gaze to the sky. Her attendants halted behind her, mimicking her actions. The night was clear, and the sky was littered with stars that glittered like precious jewels.

Was that dream a true vision of the future or just a possible outcome?

Even after the last dream, the will of the gods remained a mystery to her. But perhaps it wasn’t some grand divine prophecy. It could just be a glimpse of one potential future. Regardless, the sight of the emperor and the King of the West drifting apart deeply troubled her.

Her future self had been blind to Kuhn’s worth, unable to see how wonderful and lovable he was, even turning her back on their child. The thought filled her with fury.

The reason for the tragedy was clear: her mother. Even in reality, Patricia had plotted to separate her and Kuhn. In this timeline, her mother had failed, but in the future, she had succeeded.

Sienna began walking again, her thoughts swirling. She didn’t know how long she had been walking when she saw lights in the distance.

“Where is that?” she asked.

“It’s the Iron King’s palace,” the maid replied.

When Sienna had started her walk, she had headed in the opposite direction from the Iron King’s palace. Somewhere along the way, her steps had unconsciously turned her toward it. It was as if her feet had led her there without her even realizing it.