Chapter 7
God Erun. Jia didn’t know what to make of him. All she’d ever seen was a statue in the imperial palace. Sometimes, she’d seen the miners praying and calling upon Erun’s name, but as an outsider, the god only made her uncomfortable. If he was a god, shouldn’t he help her escape this place? Why was she still here?
Suddenly, a white light ignited in her hand, so bright it was blinding. The rising flames enveloped her hand and then her entire body. What is this? Jia stared blankly at the light, too brilliant to believe she’d conjured it.
“What in the world…?” Ethan exclaimed, his face a mask of surprise. The languid air of displeasure he usually wore was gone, replaced by a strange excitement. “I’ve never seen such potent holy power. It’s far stronger than even Archbishop Sadnia’s. We must inform him. At once…!”
“Ethan. Lower your voice.” Tristan placed a hand on Ethan’s shoulder, urging him back. Ethan’s eyebrows furrowed in protest, but Tristan shook his head, his refusal absolute. He turned to Jia, who was still gazing at the fading holy light. “Everything must be reported to His Majesty first.” His voice was cold, like frost. Immediately intimidated, Jia nodded and lowered her hands. The light vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Ethan’s face remained a tight knot of disapproval.
“His Majesty does not take kindly to secrets or lies.”
“…Yes.”
The Emperor. “Come here.” Just the memory of his voice sent shivers down her spine. He tortured, killed, and maimed without a second thought. Covered in blood, he’d still reached for another victim. Was he even human? The fundamental question plagued her. Could an Emperor who lived eternally truly be human? And what was she? If she didn’t age because she was an outsider, then what about him?
“I’ll take my leave now.”
“…Yes.”
She wanted answers. Jia trembled, biting her lip. She clenched her fists, drawing a meager strength from the gesture.
Later, as Jia sat numbly on her bed, lost in thought, Tristan entered with a tray of food. “His Majesty will summon you after the afternoon hunt. Be prepared to leave immediately.”
“…Yes.”
Even though she hadn’t eaten, Jia felt nauseous. She stared blankly at the white bread and soup. She longed for a spoonful of rice with kimchi, a steaming bowl of doenjang jjigae, a colorful array of spicy banchan.
Tears welled and spilled. Jia tore off a piece of bread and put it in her mouth. It was soft, delicious. But a lump in her throat made it feel like she was swallowing a stone. She wasn’t hungry anyway. It didn’t matter if she ate or not. Jia set the tray on the floor and began to weep.
Not needing to eat or bathe wasn’t a blessing; it just made her life feel empty and lonely. The lack of anyone by her side intensified the feeling. A crushing wave of despair washed over her. Her tears seemed endless. She sobbed, burying her face in her knees. She didn’t want to face the Emperor. I’m scared. I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to go. I want to go home. I want to go home….
A knock echoed through the room, interrupting her thoughts. The door opened, and the summons was delivered. “His Majesty calls for you.”
I don’t want to go…. Tears streamed down her face.
Like a dog being led to the slaughterhouse, Jia slowly made her way to the Emperor’s chambers. Her legs trembled with each step. Though the pain had been fleeting, it was seared into her memory, a horrific trauma. The screams of the slaves echoed in her ears. “Please, spare me! Spare me!” “Aagh! Ah! Ah!” The image of the blood-soaked marble floor flashed before her eyes. Finally, she reached the door. A knock, and then the door swung open.
No. No. No.
“Enter.” Tristan said. Jia slowly raised her head. She could feel the Emperor’s gaze on her, even without looking. Her heart pounded, and a feverish heat flushed her skin, as if she’d swallowed poison. Her teeth chattered, a stark reminder of how violently she was trembling. Her entire body shook like a leaf in the wind.
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