Sapphire stirred with a low groan, the morning light spilling through the curtains like an unwanted guest. She sat up slowly, cradling her head, not from pain, but from the heaviness of regret. Her throat was dry, her limbs sluggish, but it wasn't a hangover that bothered her.
It was memory.
Her eyes widened.
The tavern.
The drinks.
That stupid Raphael!!
"Oh no..." she muttered, burying her face in her palms as flashes returned.
Her loud laugh at some awful joke. The way she kept insisting the table was spinning. Gulping the ale like a challenge, just to prove she wasn't soft. And worse almost falling face-flat at the manor's entrance. Right in front of Lord Typhon.
She groaned louder.
"How would I face him?"
She peeked through her fingers, as if expecting the walls to mock her. Her cheeks flushed hot.
And then the worst hit her, he had finger fed her water!!
The image burned in her mind
She couldn't face him
Not yet.
"Spirits help me," she whispered, collapsing back on the bed. "Can I just disappear?"
Just then, Eugene entered the room carrying a tray with a bowl of steaming soup. He paused, eyeing Sapphire's flushed face and messy hair.
"Well, looks like someone can't hold their drink," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.
Sapphire groaned and covered her face. "I'm a lady," she mumbled.
"Doesn't feel like it," Eugene replied, smirking. "Besides, Sarah's been waiting all morning. You can't sleep the day away."
Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as he shoved the soup bowl into her hands. "Drink up. You need to get your head straight and get dressed."
Sapphire glanced away but obeyed, knowing she couldn't hide any longer.
She winced as the hot soup burned slightly down her throat, but she didn't stop. There was no time. Tossing the cloak over her shoulders, she ran her fingers through her hair, attempting to tame it into something presentable. The taste of the soup still lingered faintly on her tongue, a strange blend of herbs and salt.
she straightened her back and pushed open the door.
Eugene stood outside, arms crossed, expression unreadable. Without a word, he turned and began walking.
Sapphire followed, her footsteps quickening to match his. They walked in silence through the manor halls, When they reached the small corridor leading to the old servant quarters, Eugene finally spoke, voice low.
"She's waiting inside. Been here before dawn."
Sapphire paused by the door, suddenly unsure. "Do you think it'll work?" she asked quietly.
Eugene turned slightly, his eyes meeting hers with calm precision. "I think you better find out. She's not just hopeful. She's desperate."
That hit her harder than expected. Nodding, she pushed open the door. Inside, the maid sat wringing her hands, eyes darting up the moment Sapphire entered. Her face was lined with years of quiet sorrow, but today, she wore something else—hope.
Sapphire stepped forward, the small vial of draught hidden in the folds of her cloak as she offered a small, genuine smile as she approached the maid.
"I'm sorry for keeping you waiting," she said softly, setting down her satchel of supplies. "This won't take long. I just need to run a few checks before we proceed."
The woman nodded nervously.
Sapphire gently took her wrist, fingers searching for her pulse. "You've barely slept," she muttered, noting the deep shadows beneath her eyes. "Try to rest more, alright? Stress won't help your body hold on to what we're about to give it."
The woman gave a weak smile. "It's been… hard."
"I know." Sapphire offered a comforting squeeze, then reached for a small wooden spatula. "Now, open your mouth. I need to check your gums and teeth."
The woman obeyed. Sapphire tilted her chin slightly, inspecting the pale gums and brittle teeth, signs of nutritional deficiency. She made mental notes as she worked, lips pressed in a thin line. This woman wasn't just barren. Her body was frail, worn.
"We'll take it one step at a time," Sapphire said finally, pulling back. "The draught isn't magic. But it's a start."
Eugene stood quietly by the door, arms crossed. But the moment Sapphire knelt beside the maid and asked her to lift her gown slightly, he turned away.
"I'll wait outside," he said, stepping out and pulling the door close behind him with a soft click.
Sapphire offered the maid a gentle smile, trying to ease her nerves.
"I know this is uncomfortable, but I need to check everything," she said, her fingers carefully brushing over the woman's lower abdomen.
"Does your bleeding come every moon?" she asked softly.
The maid hesitated before nodding. "Yes… but it's light. Sometimes it skips. I don't know anymore."
Sapphire pressed lightly over the woman's stomach. "Any pain here?"
"A dull ache," the maid replied. "Like something pressing."
Sapphire sighed. "It could be an imbalance, maybe even stress.
"Tell me," she began calmly, "has your husband had children before… maybe with another woman?"
The maid blinked in surprise, then shook her head. "No, my lady… I was his first wife. He took another only after I… couldn't give him a child. But she hasn't taken in either."
Sapphire's brows furrowed slightly. "And what of his family? His mother, sisters… were there ever complications?"
The maid thought for a moment.
"His mother had only two children. He has no sisters. His younger brother… his wife is with child now."
Sapphire hummed thoughtfully, eyes scanning the woman's face. "It may not be you," she said gently. "Sometimes it's not about who bleeds… but what's missing inside."
She motioned for the woman to lie back slightly. "Any fever? Night sweats? Pain during coupling?"
The maid turned red but answered, "No fever… sometimes pain, but not always. I've grown used to it."
Sapphire gave a soft sigh, standing to reach for the draught she had prepared earlier. She handed it to the maid along with a folded cloth containing dried herbs. "Boil this in the morning and drink the draught tonight before bed."
The maid nodded, clutching it tightly.
"And…" Sapphire added, her tone turning gentle but firm, "lie with your husband. If the second wife hasn't conceived either, then the issue may not be yours. But the closeness, physical and emotional—matters."
The maid's eyes welled with tears. "Thank you…"
Sapphire simply gave a small nod and whispered, "You're not broken. Don't ever think that."
***
King Isis stood before a tall mirror, his sharp, chiseled face reflected back with cold pride. The seamstress hovered nearby, needle paused mid-air as Isis inspected the intricate embroidery on his robe.
Typhon entered quietly, clearing his throat. He had been summoned to give full account on revenue
"Your Majesty," he began, "the tax collection is proceeding as ordered. The coffers are filling, but the people are strained."
Isis didn't look away from his reflection.
"Good. The world must see the might of Hivites." He tapped the mirror's frame. "Increase the tax further. Let no one forget who rules."
Typhon's jaw clenched.
"Your people suffer thirst and hunger. They cannot endure more."
The king's eyes flickered briefly toward Typhon, sharp and unforgiving.
"It is an order. The crown's glory is above all."
Typhon bowed his head slightly, voice low but firm. "As you wish, Your Majesty. But it is always the poor who suffer most."
Isis's gaze hardened, then returned to the mirror with a slight smirk.
"Let them suffer for the greatness of Hivites."