Her Graceful War Song

Once the meal had ended, Violet suggested taking Hadrian and Katherine for a walk to explore the grand courtyard of the Glimmering Tower.

Not far from the establishment stood a bustling entertainment district. It was filled with coffeehouses, storytellers, opera performers, street vendors, and all manner of merchants selling trinkets and delicacies. Since arriving in the capital, Violet had been preoccupied with various matters and had never found the time to wander about. Now, she took the opportunity to send the couple away, giving Carissa and Janelle a chance to speak privately. Meanwhile, she and Cynthia could slip away to enjoy themselves as well. As soon as the others departed, the tone of the conversation inside softened.

They had deliberately avoided that topic earlier, but now, it was time to address it.

Outside, the onlookers-noble guests who had been watching the situation with rapt attention-saw the Earl of Southstead and his wife leave. They immediately assumed that Carissa had dismissed them to reprimand Janelle in private. Eager for scandal, they strained their ears, anticipating a confrontation. But instead of hushed accusations or raised voices, they heard nothing but quiet conversation and the occasional murmur of laughter. If anything, the atmosphere seemed even more harmonious than before. The constant movement of attendants going in and out made it difficult to eavesdrop, so someone simply lifted the curtain, offering a clear view of the scene inside.

Those gathered outside were no fools. They could tell the difference between forced pleasantries and genuine rapport-and from the looks of it, the two women inside were engaged in a sincere and amiable discussion.

What was even more astonishing was Janelle herself.

For years, she had been the subject of scorn, whispered about with a mixture of disdain and ridicule. Yet here she was her words poised, her manner refined. She carried herself not as a merchant scrabbling for status but as a woman of noble birth.

And then, belatedly, people remembered-Janelle was not just a mere merchant. She was the daughter of an earl.

The Earl of Southstead's family might have remained distant from the court, their presence in politics negligible, but their lineage was still intact. And here was proof-even the Hell Monarch's princess consort was affording Janelle due respect.

From time to time, Janelle glanced toward the onlookers outside, but she paid them no mind.

When Carissa finally spoke of the ordeal Janelle had been put through, calling it an undeserved

misfortune, Janelle merely smiled and said lightly, "You jest, Your Grace. How is that a misfortune? It is nothing less than an opportunity bestowed by fate."

Their eyes met, and in that shared moment of understanding, they exchanged a knowing smile.

Following this meeting, the storm of rumors outside quickly died down.

But while the whispers in social circles faded, tension within the court only escalated.

Since coughing up blood, Salvador had neither held court nor handled state affairs in the royal study. Instead, nearly all authority had been entrusted to Jeremiah.

The court officials didn't know what had happened.

Aside from the six department heads and Irvin, no one was privy to Salvador's true condition.

With the court in disarray, the minds of officials were scattered.

That evening, after returning home, Irvin fell into a high fever. Physicians were summoned, but the fever broke only to rise again. In desperation, Meredith sent for Sebastian.noveldrama

The moment Irvin saw him, tears welled up in his eyes. Without hesitation, he dismissed everyone else from the room, leaving only Sebastian behind.

Sebastian had come to treat him, but upon seeing Irvin's state, he hesitated. Just as he was about to check his vitals, Irvin suddenly grabbed his hands in a desperate grip.

His voice thick with emotion, Irvin choked out, "Mr. Dalton, tell me the truth-is there a way to cure His Majesty's illness?"

Jeremiah had told them that on the night Salvador left the palace, hez had secretly gone to see Sebastian. It was the Hell Monarch's household was

that had arranged the physician's visit.

Yet Jeremiah had never mentioned this to Sebastian himself-perhaps because he never expected anyone to ask the physician directly.

So, Sebastian was caught off guard by Irvin's words.

Was the king ill?

Sebastian hadn't the faintest idea

what ailed Salvador. But since it concerned the king, he couldn't simply admit his ignorance. Instead, he said evenly, "Let me check on your condition first."

Irvin obediently fell silent and allowed Sebastian to examine him.

Sebastian took a few minutes to conduct his examination, his expression unreadable. After a long moment, he finally spoke.

"The cold has settled into your lungs, and the fever is burning through your body. You'll have to take some strong medication."

At his words, Irvin seized the sleeve of his robe and said, "Tell me the truth, Mr. Dalton. Is His Majesty's condition truly as dire as the royal physicians' claim?"

Sebastian let out a weary sigh. "Lord Wright, focus on recovering your health. Don't trouble yourself with anything else.

What was Salvador's condition? Why wouldn't Irvin just come right out and say what it was?! Irvin's tears did not stop. His nose was already so blocked he could barely breathe through it.

"How could I not worry? Lung disease is notoriously difficult to cure! The royal physicians have no solutions left. My only hope is that

you, Mr. Dalton, will have a remedy

to spare His Majesty from this fate."

Sebastian's gaze lowered, his heart sinking. Lung disease?

Sebastian's quill glided across the paper as he wrote a prescription, his expression betraying nothing. "Focus on your recovery," he said. "There are others who understand medicine-leave it to them to worry about the rest."