The Queen and the Lion - Chapter 51

All that day’s events had concluded.

Aslan was immediately moved to his bed. It was a careful and attentive treatment he hadn’t received even when he’d been pierced by countless arrows on the battlefield. Aslan looked bewildered, unaccustomed to such care.

“Your Highness, please maintain your composure!”

“Quiet!”

There was a commotion, and soon the door burst open.

Lysian, panting as if she had run, leaned against the doorframe. She caught her breath and looked at Aslan. It was the time when Lysian would usually be deep in a state council meeting. Why was she here? Aslan looked at Lysian in surprise.

As soon as Lysian received the report that Aslan had been poisoned and was vomiting blood, she stormed out of the council chamber. She knew it was unbecoming of a queen and that the officials would likely disapprove even more of Aslan. But she simply couldn’t sit still.

Lysian strode towards Aslan. Her anger was palpable.

“Report!”

“There was white sandalwood root mixed into the salad dressing,” Dandelion replied. Lysian looked puzzled.

“White sandalwood? Isn’t that something people commonly eat?”

White sandalwood was a plant known for its purifying properties. It could take root and enrich even the most barren soil, providing edible fruits and leaves to sustain the people. It was a benevolent plant. Lysian couldn’t understand how someone could vomit blood after eating white sandalwood and glared at the physician.

“While white sandalwood is indeed a beneficial plant, if it’s grown in soil saturated with poison, the root absorbs the poison, turning it into a deadly toxin. It’s strange, or perhaps fortunate… Lord Yilmaz seems unaffected.”

“How can he be completely unaffected after ingesting such a poison!”

Lysian’s face flushed with anger at the physician’s report. Her clenched fists trembled. The physician bowed his head in response to the queen’s fury.

“However, aside from vomiting blood and a slight fever, he shows no other symptoms. Apart from his weakened condition, Lord Yilmaz is actually quite well, Your Majesty.”

Lysian wasn’t relieved to hear that Aslan was safe. The fact that Aslan had been poisoned was the real problem. Lysian bit her lower lip.

It was Aslan, uncomfortable being treated like a patient, who spoke up in the tense atmosphere. Pushing himself up from the bed, he said, …

“I’m immune to white sandalwood root. I’ve chewed on it countless times in the heat of battle, whether it was poisonous or not. I’m fine, Lysian. Don’t be upset about this.”

“But it was poison! To dare, in my palace, to you…!”

Lysian’s violet eyes welled up with tears.

She was overwhelmed by a dizzying mix of anger and frustration. Never since becoming queen had she felt so powerless. To declare him her consort and then face an assassination attempt? She felt ashamed to face Aslan.

Tears rolled down Lysian’s slightly flushed cheeks. Aslan reached out to her. Sobbing, Lysian approached Aslan and wrapped her arms around his waist, which was half-raised. Aslan gently wiped away her tears with his bloodstained hand.

“You can’t harm me with something like this. Your sorrow is more poisonous to me.”

Lysian’s throat tightened at Aslan’s words. She clutched his hand tightly and swallowed a sob. The tears on her cheeks dried. This incident was entirely her fault, as she had naively believed that the Florean nobles would welcome Aslan as a royal heir.

However, she had no intention of letting this matter slide. It was only by sheer luck that the situation hadn’t escalated. If Aslan hadn’t been immune…

Such an incident must never happen again. Lysian’s eyes shone with a stern and sharp light. Hiding her true feelings, she forced a reassuring smile to keep Aslan from worrying.

“Get some rest.”

Lysian’s hand gently stroked Aslan’s forehead. Despite his attempt to appear fine, Aslan’s forehead was covered in a cold sweat, indicating his weakness.

Aslan could sense the flames of anger burning beneath Lysian’s porcelain-like expression. He wanted to tell her not to antagonize the nobles over this, but the coolness of her hand on his forehead was so pleasant that he involuntarily closed his eyes.

Though immune to the poison, the ordeal had significantly drained his energy. Despite wanting to speak, Aslan fell into a deep sleep.

It was almost like a faint.

Lysian’s gaze fell on Aslan’s dark eyelashes, which were beaded with sweat. Although his eyelashes weren’t very long, they were thick and defined his eyes. Lysian’s well-manicured fingers lightly brushed against his eyelashes. Aslan’s brow furrowed in pain, and Lysian’s heart ached.

Lysian, who had been sitting by Aslan’s bedside, watching over him, finally rose from her seat. The woman whose heart had ached with the pain of her lover had vanished, replaced by the wrath of a proud queen whose possessions had been violated.