Grant me Your Grace Chapter 60

As Dahlia’s complexion grew troubled once more…  

 

“Your Highness, why have you opened the door? The wind is terribly cold!”  

 

Bertha’s voice echoed from the first floor. 

 

Looking down, Dahlia saw Bertha holding a basket with a few dried figs, her face filled with worry as she gazed upward. The girl quickly entered the princess’s chambers and hurried up to the second floor, where the bedroom was.  

 

“Your Highness, may I come in?”  

 

“Come in.”  

 

Pushing aside her tangled thoughts for a moment, Dahlia let Bertha inside.  

 

Though Bertha’s eyes darted over Dahlia’s face like a squirrel’s, she didn’t ask if she was in pain or if she was alright. Her fearful expression suggested she was afraid Dahlia might send her away again.  

 

Feeling both pity and guilt, Dahlia gently stroked Bertha’s head.  

 

“I’m sorry. Yesterday, my skin condition flared up badly, spreading to my face. I didn’t want anyone to see me like that.”  

 

Instead of answering, Bertha’s eyes welled up with large teardrops.  

 

The princess, always gentle and kind, had raised her voice in agony for the first time, moaning in pain. The girl had spent the day in terror, fearing her beloved princess might breathe her last.  

 

“It’s alright. As long as Your Highness is safe, I’m fine.”  

 

Despite this, Bertha didn’t whine or complain. Instead, she bravely swallowed her tears and fulfilled her duty as a handmaiden. 

 

Watching Bertha diligently fuss over her with capable hands, Dahlia felt her own turbulent mind grow a little calmer.  

 

As Bertha straightened the bedding, her eyes suddenly widened, and she shared some fresh news.  

 

“Oh, Your Highness! The village lockdown has finally been lifted!”  

 

“Really? Does that mean you can leave the capital now?”  

 

“Yes! If Your Highness commands it, I can run errands outside the city even today.”

 

Aaron’s words, momentarily forgotten because of Hissin, resurfaced in her mind—the promise that her blood could revive the land it had killed.  

 

Dahlia steeled her resolve and nodded.  

 

“Pack your things right now, Bertha.”  

 

“Right now? But I should inform the other ladies-in-waiting about the tasks they’ll need to cover for me…”  

 

“There’s a condition.”  

 

Dahlia took her loyal handmaiden’s hand and spoke softly.  

 

“You must not let anyone know you’re leaving the palace.”  

 

“Not even the head lady-in-waiting?”  

 

“No. Dress as plainly as possible to conceal your status, and you won’t be able to borrow the imperial carriage.”  

 

If by any chance Bertha were caught carrying her blood, she would be executed on the spot. 

 

With no way of knowing how far Saltar’s surveillance reached, Dahlia had to ensure Bertha left the palace as discreetly as possible.  

 

After a brief hesitation, Bertha nodded, her face tense.  

 

“Yes, I’ll do as you say.”  

 

The clever girl already seemed to understand just how important—and dangerous—this mission was.  

 

With another nod, Bertha hurried out of the bedroom. She briefly exchanged greetings with other ladies-in-waiting in the hallway, but thankfully, she made no mention of taking leave and instead headed straight for the servants’ quarters.  

 

Left alone, Dahlia retrieved a small porcelain vial from the display cabinet. She picked up an embroidery scissors and pressed its sharp edge against her skin.  

 

Drip—

 

As she sliced her palm, her brow furrowed involuntarily. 

 

Suppressing the pain, she let her blood fill the glass vial.  

 

Before long, Bertha returned, fully prepared. Without needing to be told, she had changed into plain clothing.  

 

Dahlia handed her the tightly sealed vial.  

 

“Bertha, scatter the contents of this vial over the fields of Nuan. The more devastated the land, the better.”  

 

“Nuan… That’s where the crop blight hit hardest this time.”  

 

Bertha accepted the vial. Dahlia added anxiously,  

 

“Do not look at what’s inside. And once you’re home, break the vial and dispose of it without anyone knowing.”  

 

“Yes, Your Highness.”

 

Feeling something sloshing inside the opaque ceramic vessel, Bertha carefully wrapped it in cloth and placed it in her bag.  

 

Without asking any questions, she simply nodded.  

 

“I’ll deliver the letter upon arrival, Your Highness,” Bertha said with a resolute expression. 

 

Her intelligent eyes seemed capable of handling anything. The once small and fragile child had grown so much. Dahlia tightened Bertha’s clothes once more.  

 

Still uneasy, Dahlia retrieved a hair ribbon from her jewelry box—a golden ribbon said to bring safety.  

 

She personally combed the girl’s hair, braiding it into two plaits that reached her chest. The ends of her hair shimmered faintly with a golden hue.  

 

“Be careful on your way. You must not speak of this to anyone.”  

 

“Yes, Your Highness. Don’t worry. I’ll keep it a secret, even from my family.”  

 

Clad in a worn robe, Bertha quietly left the imperial palace.  

 

Dahlia watched from the window as Bertha disappeared into the distance outside the palace. 

 

Now, all that remained was to endure the waiting.  

 

‘Please, let it work as the High Priest said…’  

 

She suppressed her anxious heart as she traced the rough spots on her right hand.  

 

💫

 

At that moment.  

 

Miftah, who had been in the guest chamber, had finished preparing to return to the Kingdom of Hayad. 

 

Having already bid farewell to the Emperor, he boarded his carriage as if unwilling to stay in the empire a moment longer.  

 

“Hyah!”  

 

At the coachman’s whip, the horses swiftly began their departure from the palace.  

 

Just as they were about to leave the capital, Sebak, who had been observing outside, pointed somewhere.  

 

“Your Highness. That girl—isn’t she the maid close to Her Highness the Princess?”  

 

Miftah, who had been reviewing the letters sent from Hayad, glanced outside. 

 

Upon closer look, Bertha—cloaked in a robe—was boarding a shabby cart transporting hay.  

 

The girl, whose face had briefly been visible, quickly pulled her hood down to conceal herself.  

 

“With the village lockdown lifted, it seems even the palace maids are returning to their hometowns one by one.”

 

Miftah spoke indifferently and turned his attention back to observing Hayad’s situation. Then, struck by a sudden thought, he raised his head again.  

 

If she were a lady-in-waiting serving the princess at close quarters, she should at least have a horse-drawn carriage. 

 

Yet that maid was riding in a shabby, uncomfortable transport cart.  

 

Moreover, the girl kept glancing around nervously, clutching a bundle tightly to her chest.  

 

As if she were hiding something.  

 

Setting down the letter, Miftah curled his lips into a peculiar smile.  

 

“Sebak, follow her.”  

 

“Huh?”  

 

“Track that girl. Make sure she doesn’t notice—stay hidden.”  

 

A dangerous glint flickered in his green eyes.  

 

💫

 

Clatter—

 

The cart jolted sharply, its wheels likely hitting a small rock. 

 

Bertha instinctively gasped and hugged the bundle tighter. Her fingers brushed over the clothes inside until she felt the hard bottle buried deep within. 

 

Phew— 

 

Letting out a quiet sigh, she scanned her surroundings again.  

 

The elderly couple across from her were dozing off, and a lanky young man lying diagonally chewed on a reed while staring at the sky.  

 

A young woman holding a baby occasionally glanced her way, but she was eyeing everyone in the cart, not just Bertha.  

 

“Nuan soon! We’re arriving at Nuan!”  

 

Just then, the cheerful driver loudly announced their destination. Bertha pulled her worn hood low and prepared to disembark.  

 

Stepping off at a large crossroads, Bertha surveyed the village. 

 

Until last year, Nuan had thrived with vast fig orchards, but recently, an unknown blight had caused severe damage.  

 

‘That place looks good.’ 

 

Bertha quickly headed toward the distant orchard.

 

The field looked far worse up close. The fig trees were completely withered, twisted into grotesque shapes, and the soil, which should have been rich and fertile, was instead pale and dry, as if covered in mold.  

 

‘The stench is awful. Did someone try to revive the land by sprinkling garlic or something?’  

 

Bertha, covering her mouth and nose with her arm, pulled out the vial she had received from Dahlia from her bundle. 

 

After checking once more to ensure no one was around, she uncorked it.  

 

Following Dahlia’s strict instruction not to look inside, Bertha closed her eyes and tilted the vial. 

 

A trickling sound followed as the liquid poured out, and a faint metallic scent brushed past her nose.  

 

Just as she was about to turn away after shaking out the last drop—  

 

“What in the world…?”  

 

Bertha’s eyes widened at the sight before her. The fig tree, which had been dead just moments ago, had now sprung back to life, lush and vibrant.  

 

Not only that, but the soil, which had clearly been barren, now looked as if it had been heavily fertilized, rich and fertile.  

 

All from a vial no larger than the palm of her hand.  

 

“What on earth was inside this?”  

 

Though curiosity gnawed at her, she couldn’t bring herself to break her promise to Dahlia. 

 

As instructed, she had to take the vial back to her homeland and throw it into a furnace to shatter it.  

 

Instead of peering inside, Bertha securely recorked the vial and placed it back into her bundle. 

 

After one final wary glance around, she hurried off to find a carriage that would take her home.