The Saintess Returned to the Emperor’s Arms Chapter 145

I  hope you won’t hurt at all anymore

 

Riella collapsed as if fainting, leaning her body against Herhan.

 

She had forced herself to stand with all her strength just to hold onto him, but she still couldn’t fully support her body.

 

“Riella. You’ll get blood on you.”

 

“It’s okay. I just need you.”

 

Nodding, Herhan lifted Riella into his arms, not caring that his entire body was soaked in blood.

 

Not a single drop of filthy blood would touch Riella.

 

There was a time he had declared war on the world with that resolve.

 

But now, in this moment of finding Riella again, Herhan realized that none of that mattered.

 

What mattered was this—no matter how deeply he fell into the abyss and wandered, he would always hold her.

 

And that she, no matter how deeply he was buried in dreadful darkness, would return to him and become his light.

 

The two of them became one again and stood up.

 

At that moment, behind Herhan, came the sound of Kyle coughing up blood.

 

Was it because he had prolonged his life by stealing Riella’s power?

 

He was stubbornly clinging on.

 

Just then, in front of Herhan, Asion—finally freed from Kyle’s control—approached.

 

His face was stiff.

 

His usually dark complexion had turned pale, and he couldn’t form any proper expression—it looked like he might cry, or tremble.

 

“Your Majesty……”

 

At Asion’s strained call, Herhan slightly turned his body while still holding Riella.

 

Realizing it was to hide the shoulder he himself had injured earlier, Asion frowned and bit his lip.

 

“Asion. End Kyle here.”

 

“Your Majesty, earlier I—”

 

“Asion. Get a hold of yourself and follow the order. Do what you must.”

 

“……Yes. Understood.”

 

With tears welling in his eyes, Asion nodded and stepped toward Kyle.

 

“Do you really think this is the end?”

 

Even with death right in front of him, Kyle struggled desperately to drag Riella and Herhan down with him.

 

“As long as you carry Antu’s lineage, the fight will continue. Can you endure it? Look around. Look at the state of everything here. Great emperor—this is all your doing.”

 

Kyle panted heavily.

 

He coughed up blood from time to time, his words slurring, but still, he poured everything into cursing Herhan.

 

“Killing me won’t end anything. If you want Riella all to yourself, then you’re the same kind of monster as me.”

 

“It doesn’t matter.”

 

Herhan did not waver at Kyle’s curses.

 

If he were the type to waver, he would never have chosen to hold Riella from the beginning.

 

“I never tried to become a righteous hero. I just protect what’s mine.”

 

“……”

 

“Kyle Parlante. Do you know the difference between you and me?”

 

Kyle did not answer.

 

Maybe he had nothing to say—or maybe he could no longer speak.

 

“I have a goddess who will protect me even if I become a monster. But you don’t.”

 

With that final remark, Herhan turned away.

 

“May you remain insignificant until the very end.”

 

At that moment, Riella, though conscious, deliberately buried her face in Herhan’s chest and did not look at Kyle.

 

Until the very end, Kyle waited for Riella to call his name.

 

If not a call, then even a curse—anything.

 

But by ignoring him completely, Riella brought their long, ill-fated connection to an end.

 

* * *

 

When all the battles were over, a deep winter air settled over the imperial palace.

 

The once-cool breeze now stung at the tip of the nose.

 

The palace servants, welcoming the new season, busily secured the windows and began lighting the fireplaces.

 

Just as the weather had suddenly turned cold overnight, the scent lingering in the palace had changed as well.

 

The smell of firewood, the scent of thick new wool carpets, and—

 

The smell of victory.

 

Bishop Ludovico, who had confessed to his corruption as a pawn of the alliance, was temporarily imprisoned in the Elsweik Empire’s prison for treason against Herhan.

 

“Some priests who wish to plead for Bishop Ludovico are gathering and showing signs of preparing a protest. But it won’t go as they want.”

 

In a meeting held in Herhan’s office, Amelia continued in a firm voice.

 

“Before that, I will submit a petition first, detailing all of Bishop Ludovico’s crimes.”

 

Herhan nodded, though his expression remained concerned.

 

“There are still people loyal to Bishop Ludovico in the temple, aren’t there?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Amelia’s answer was lonely.

 

Among ‘Bishop Ludovico’s people’ were likely her own colleagues.

 

But she soon answered resolutely,

 

“Rotten roots must be pulled out. And since I was once one of Bishop Ludovico’s people as well, I will accept my punishment.”

 

“I understand. You are like family to Riella, so if you need anything, tell me anytime.”

 

“Yes. Thank you.”

 

Next was Jes.

 

“Is the trial still ongoing?”

 

“Yes. I will submit a separate report on yesterday’s rulings.”

 

Jes was in charge of handling the alliance executives captured at the banquet.

 

Those who had surrendered were spared their lives as promised to Riella, but since each had different crimes, handling them was difficult.

 

So it was decided that fair punishments would be given through public trials.

 

“There are so many that even with continuous trials, it never ends. It’s already the fourth day of overtime—I barely managed to stop the Minister of Justice from running away.”

 

“Well done. Tell him to endure just a bit longer. Then now…”

 

Bishop Ludovico, and the alliance executives.

 

With all matters discussed, the only thing left was Kyle.

 

Kyle had been executed on the spot that day in front of the garden fountain by Captain of the Guard, Asion.

 

Herhan displayed his head in the imperial plaza for all to see.

 

It was the very place where Greta had been executed.

 

The one who carried out the task was Asion.

 

“……It has been handled as you ordered.”

 

“……Good.”

 

That was the end of the conversation between Herhan and Asion.

 

Normally, Asion would have gone on chatting—about how the sight was something to behold, or about the crowds that gathered to see Kyle’s head.

 

But today, he was silent.

 

Herhan was the same.

 

They exchanged only the necessary words in short replies, avoiding each other’s gaze.

 

This awkward air between them had lingered since the battle at the fountain garden.

 

“Ahem, ahem! Is Her Majesty the Empress still resting? I was thinking of going for a walk together before it gets colder. Last time, when Her Majesty took me around the garden, it was really nice……”

 

Amelia, who had been struggling to somehow ease the bleak atmosphere, suddenly clamped her mouth shut when the word “garden” slipped out without thinking.

 

As expected, the shadow on Asion’s already dark face deepened even more.

 

‘What do I do… Sir Jes, do something!’

 

At Amelia’s desperate signal, Jes reluctantly pulled their lord to his feet.

 

“Your Majesty. Please get up now. Don’t forget you’re still recovering.”

 

Herhan nodded and quietly stood up.

 

Even after their lord had left, Asion couldn’t bring himself to rise from his seat.

 

Jes watched him silently, even tried to just leave him be and walk away—but then came back, casually hitting his back as he spoke.

 

“Hey. Asion. Want a drink tonight?”

 

Normally, no matter how much Asion clung to him asking to drink together, Jes rarely agreed.

 

So even though it was extremely rare for him to offer first, Asion only gave a bitter smile and shook his head.

 

‘You idiot. Don’t make that gloomy face—it doesn’t suit you. Damn it.’

 

Annoyed for no reason, Jes ran a hand through his hair.

 

That was when Asion finally spoke in a weak, quiet voice.

 

“Jes. How’s His Majesty’s shoulder wound?”

 

“I told you this morning. It’s not that deep.”

 

“Still… I guess I’m not fit for this, am I? What kind of fool of a captain cuts down his own lord?”

 

“……”

 

“Should I step down too?”

 

Even though he understood Asion’s feelings perfectly, Jes wasn’t the type to offer gentle comfort like *‘It’s not your fault.’*

 

Instead, he gave calm, blunt words—his own way of comforting him.

 

“That’s not for you to decide. It’s for His Majesty to decide.”

 

* * *

 

Around that time, Riella stretched her stiff body on the bed.

 

Calling it a sickbed didn’t change much.

 

It was still her usual bedroom—just with a tray of medicine and bandages added.

 

Jes came in three times a day, being annoyingly attentive.

 

And whenever she tried to move even a little outside the bed, the maids would rush in and fuss, crying, *“Your Majesty! You must rest!”*

 

In truth, Riella had recovered almost immediately after sleeping well for two nights.

 

The one who truly needed a “sickbed” was Herhan—but the fact that the emperor was injured was being kept strictly secret.

 

That only made Riella more worried.

 

‘He’s probably walking around without even showing he’s hurt.’

 

Just as she decided she couldn’t sit still any longer and got up—

 

Herhan entered the room.

 

“Riella. Where are you going? You should be lying down.”

 

That was something *she* should be saying to *him*.

 

They both shot each other a look.

 

After exchanging that tender, silent complaint, it was Herhan who looked away first.

 

Then came the embrace.

 

Whenever he returned after being out, even briefly, he would always pull Riella into his arms and take a deep breath.

 

“…Mm.”

 

As always, when he hugged her today, Herhan let out a small groan without realizing it.

 

Riella immediately noticed the slight tension in his body and quickly lifted her head.

 

“Your Majesty. Does it hurt?”

 

“No.”

 

“Liar. You just made a sound.”

 

Without another word from him, Riella pulled Herhan toward the bed.

 

“Take it off.”

 

“…It’s still broad daylight.”

 

Even while clearly in pain from being stabbed, he still had that teasing look in his eyes—Riella almost smacked his back.

 

“I’m changing your bandages. Take it off.”

 

“I’ll call Jes.”

 

“I want to do it myself.”

 

Isn’t it better if I do it than Jes?

 

As if responding to his teasing, Riella narrowed her eyes.

 

Herhan smirked and took off his shirt.

 

Underneath, revealed with some effort, was his torso wrapped entirely in thick bandages.

 

“There’s blood here. I think the shoulder wound opened again. This spot really doesn’t heal well…”

 

Murmuring sadly, Riella cut away the bandages.

 

Snip—

 

As the scissors cut through, the tightly wrapped cloth loosened and slid down.

 

Only then was Herhan’s bare body revealed.

 

Still stained in places with red wounds, a sight painful just to look at.

 

‘Ah… I thought I’d be okay.’

 

But seeing it now, tears welled up again, and Riella bit her lip.

 

Herhan gently stroked her head, trying to comfort her.

 

“See? That’s why I said I’d call Jes.”

 

“I can do it. He’s my husband, so I’ll take care of this much.”

 

Right. Because he’s my husband.

 

Gathering her resolve again, Riella picked up the ointment from the tray.

 

As she opened it, the bitter scent of disinfectant filled the room.

 

The ointment was cold and sticky.

 

With her fingertips, she carefully applied it to Herhan’s wound.

 

“Ah—”

 

“……”

 

“Ugh.”

 

Each time Riella’s fingertips touched him, Herhan flinched and let out strange little sounds.

 

So much so that Riella—who had been teary-eyed with worry over his wounds—finally burst into laughter.

 

“Your Majesty… do you realize you’re making really weird sounds right now?”

 

“You wouldn’t know. That ointment is really cold and stings.”

 

“You handle worse pain just fine. If someone heard you from outside, they’d get the wrong idea.”

 

“What does it matter? Whatever sounds come from a newlywed couple’s bedroom.”

 

Ah… that’s true.

 

Maybe she was becoming just as shameless—Riella found herself agreeing with him and smiling. Then her eyes fell on the particularly deep wound in his shoulder.

 

It was the one Asion had inflicted.

 

“Does it hurt a lot?”

 

“Not really.”

 

“It looks like it hurts a lot.”

 

Knowing that Riella didn’t just mean the stab wound, Herhan couldn’t answer.

 

The countless injuries carved into his body.

 

The reason they hurt so much, the reason they wouldn’t heal—was because they had all come from the hands of the people he trusted.

 

That day, the ones lying in ambush at the fountain garden were the First Knight Order, including Asion, and the Empress’s guard.

 

All of them had sworn absolute loyalty to Herhan and Riella—trusted warriors who had been tested many times.

 

Right after that incident, they had all been removed from duty and placed under discipline.

 

While others took over their roles, every one of them was kept under watch.

 

Not for any other reason—but because more than ten of them had already tried to take their own lives, unable to bear the guilt of raising a hand against their lord.

 

If those who inflicted the wounds were in such pain, how much worse must it be for Herhan?

 

“I wish I could share that pain with you.”

 

“Don’t say such terrible things.”

 

“I mean it.”

 

Carefully applying ointment over every part of his body, Riella finally took a generous amount and spread it over the deepest wound on his shoulder.

 

At the gentle touch of her pale fingers against his skin, Herhan frowned slightly.

 

And Riella, finding even that furrowed brow both painful and dear, leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to it, whispering quietly—

 

“My emperor… I hope you won’t hurt at all anymore.”

 

* * *