Chapter 223 "It's okay, you haven't been good to me..."
Derson's room was in complete chaos, with doctors and nurses bustling about. Derson's rapid breathing and coughing could be heard constantly, and I was kept outside the door.
“Madam, the room is in a mess. Please have the physicians treat Prince Desen properly,” a soft voice said.
I turned around and recognized her. She wasn't the mother of any of Artis's illegitimate children, but I had seen her before. In a dream after my last marriage to Artis, she and Artis made love, she spoke sweetly and coquettishly, and Artis showered her with affection.
She must have been Artis's most favored mistress at the time; I wonder if she still is.
Seeing me looking her up and down, she gave me a friendly smile. “Madam, you should have seen me before. We’ve had breakfast together a few times.”
I didn't speak; in fact, I didn't know how to respond. Even in the Eastern Palace, I rarely spoke to my mistresses.
When she saw that I ignored her, a subtle mockery appeared on her face.
With a gust of wind and hurried footsteps, Artis rushed over. He had met with the attending physician alone before coming over, so he was a few steps later than me.
“He should be able to pull through today, don’t worry,” Artis said gently, then took my hand and said, “Let’s go have breakfast first.” He completely ignored the beautiful mistress beside him.
My mistress followed us to the restaurant, where a group of people were already seated, including Daio and his mistresses. When he saw me, Daio gave me a half-smile.
“You will soon be free,” he said. “Once your exiled husband is dead, you will be relieved of your burden and can rightfully swagger around this island.”
“You’re overthinking it,” I said. “I’ve never thought that way.”
He laughed loudly, "Never thought that way? How could that be?"
Artis interrupted our conversation. “Can we talk about what should be done about Prince Desen’s funeral today? Should it be according to the Eastern Kingdom’s rites or our Achia’s rites?” He looked at me. “You know, the customs of our continent are that you are born in the place where you belong and die according to the funeral rites of that place. But I still want to ask for your opinion and hear what others think.”
Before I could speak, Daio laughed loudly, "What could she possibly be thinking? Three blows to the head wouldn't be enough to make her utter a sound."
I ignored him, but the other mistresses and a few bolder illegitimate children were discussing which side's funeral rites should be followed.
They discussed it for a while before I spoke up: "Perhaps we could ask some highly respected nobles?"
Artis said, "This is a private family matter, and it can be discussed within the family."
In other words, Desen's rank was not high enough to be discussed at a meeting of high-ranking nobles.
Yes, he's just an exiled prince, not even the King of the East's biological son. He's hardly someone that a respected old nobleman would find troublesome.
“Then let’s follow the Eastern Region’s funeral rites,” I said. “I’m still Derson’s wife, so I can make that decision, right?”
Artis smiled. "This decision should be mine, but sometimes your decision is my decision."
The table fell silent. Daio looked at us again with a half-smile, then suddenly stood up, stretched, and said, "I'm full. You can continue eating." With that, he swaggered away with his two glamorous mistresses.
In the afternoon, I sat in Derson's room, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead. The firewood in the fireplace was just right, burning neither too hot nor too cold; he shouldn't be sweating so much. I sighed and kept wiping his forehead; it only proved that his body was getting weaker and weaker, and he really wouldn't last much longer.
I felt sad, but there was nothing I could do to help him.
An hour later, two maids came to "take over" from me, asking me to go back to my room to rest for a while, saying that it was Lord Artis's request. I had no choice but to get up and go back to my room for a nap.
When I woke up from my afternoon nap, snow was falling heavily and the room was getting cold. Before I even got out of bed, I heard that Prince Desen had passed away half an hour earlier.
"Why didn't you wake me up sooner?" I asked, forcing back my grief.
"Lord Artis said you are too tired and want you to rest more. Besides, the prince has already left, so waking you up early would be of no use."
I pushed aside the maid and rushed into Dessen's room without even changing my pajamas.
Desen's body had just been wrapped up, covered from head to toe in layers of white cloth, with no skin showing, even his face and hair were completely covered.
I wanted to rush over, pull off the white cloth covering his face, and see him one last time, but I was forcibly pulled away by someone—it was Artis.
“Calm down, he’s already gone, let him rest in peace,” he said.
"Get away from me!" I wailed. "Why won't you let me see him one last time?"
“I don’t want you to be too sad,” he said bluntly. “Excessive grief is bad for your health.”
"I don't want you to interfere, I just want to see him one last time!" I cried even harder, screaming and kicking, trying to break free from him, but to no avail.
No one else in the room was crying except me. Of course, Derson wasn't one of them; why would they be sad for him? Only I was sad. I cried even harder. Our marriage was initially a political one, but he treated me well and even planned for me in the final stages. How could I not be sad for him?
I cried so hard I was breathless and struggled violently, desperately wanting to rush over to see Derson one last time. Finally, Artis struck me on the back of the neck, and I stopped crying and passed out.
The day the snow stopped was the day of Derson's funeral. In accordance with the customs of the East, I sat beside the coffin, dressed in black, silently watching the nobles who came to pay their respects.
Actually, they weren't familiar with Derson at all; they were only going through the motions because of Artis. But at least this way, the funeral wasn't lonely, since Derson loved lively gatherings and would go to balls every few days. In this respect, I'm still very grateful to Artis.
At noon, I put on a thick long coat and followed the attendants carrying the coffin out of the island palace. On a cliff near the west gate of the island palace, the Elf Queen was buried, and Desen's tomb was located not far away.
After the formal burial, we began our return to the palace. I traveled by carriage because Attis said a blizzard was coming soon and we needed to get back quickly. The carriage was pulled by wild horses tamed by the tribesmen; they were quite fast and pulled very steadily. I had just finished signing the marriage certificate when the carriage stopped in front of Attis's palace.
This is what Attis brought onto the carriage. He smiled and spread the marriage certificate in front of me, saying, "Now it's your turn to fulfill your promise."
"Do you really like me that much?" I picked up my pen and asked casually, "Or do you like the benefits I might bring?"
"Yes, I have them all," he answered without any hesitation.
I smiled slightly and wrote my name very slowly, stroke by stroke. He said softly, "Don't be afraid. I will treat you very well, even if there is only self-interest between us."
I looked up, a bright smile on my face. "It's alright. It doesn't matter if you're not good to me. Why force a man who's never meant to love to love?"
And just like that, I finished signing my name.
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Author's note: You should definitely check out my other novels too, I actually really like them, to be honest.
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