Grant me Your Grace – Chapter 99

Author: Nikss

Dahlia followed Hovan down a long corridor.

Mohron’s palace was full of similar passageways wherever one went, but today, for some reason, the path felt strangely unfamiliar.

Perhaps it was because of what awaited her at the end of it.

“Here we are.”

At Hovan’s words, Dahlia stopped walking and looked ahead.

From beyond the firmly closed door, faint signs of movement could be heard. Her tension deepened, and a dry swallow went down her throat automatically.

“Please open it.”

Dahlia nodded, and Hovan announced the princess’s visit to those inside before opening the door.

Just as the room’s interior was about to come into view—

Hissin approached and pulled her into an embrace. Her body, stiff with tension, was enveloped by his familiar scent.

“You look terribly pale.”

Hissin spoke, holding Dahlia a little tighter. She had thought she was only trembling slightly.

It wasn’t until she felt her heartbeat steadying under the calming warmth of his scent that she realized how extremely tense she truly was.

“You don’t have to look if it’s too hard.”

His tender voice, flowing by her ear, carried a deep concern. He seemed worried that she, who had only just begun to recover her body and spirit, might break down again.

Dahlia, who had been quietly leaning into Hissin, shook her head slightly.

“I want to see. No… I must see.”

She had been resolved to do this from the moment she first heard about it. Dahlia raised her head, her gaze conveying her determination once more.

“It’s alright. You’ll be right beside me.”

Faced with that look—faintly trembling yet as resolute as her will—Hissin could only relent. He let out a low sigh, repeated several times that she could leave whenever it became too much, and then guided Dahlia inside.

The spacious room was so hollowed out it was impossible to discern its original purpose.

It might have been a room no one ever used, or perhaps one that was filled with whatever was necessary for the occasion.

Today, laid out as if enshrined like relics.

“…”

Looking at the dozens upon dozens of remains that densely covered the floor, Dahlia clenched her trembling hands into tight fists.

The remains, already beyond mere bone—utterly eroded into the soil—each bore the same gruesome devastation to the ribcage.

Khandra must have torn out their hearts.

Given a Selection’s nature of rapid recovery, they wouldn’t have died unless their heads were severed or their hearts removed.

Before the horrific scene, Dahlia squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before forcing herself to look again.

Tears threatened to blur her vision, but she desperately held them back as she faced the shattered remnants of her kin. Her family, who had to die so miserably, who had lived their entire wretched lives trapped beneath the weight of Baren.

Hissin grasped her hand once more, his grip firm and grounding.

“I was told they were discovered roughly two hundred feet northwest of the imperial palace of Baran.”

Two hundred feet from the palace. It was quite a distance to drag captives from the dungeons and bury them in the dead of night for just two grown men.

Dahlia swallowed the emotions surging within her and listened silently.

“Before the chancellor died, he claimed there were fewer than twenty. But with twenty-three sets of remains recovered, we cannot rule out the possibility of more. The search will continue, so I ask for your patience a little longer.”

Hissin said it was fortunate, amidst the tragedy, that the remains had been preserved at all, and reassured her that any still undiscovered would likely be found soon.

Dahlia bit down hard on her lower lip, nodding her head in lieu of a verbal reply.

The thought of her family still buried somewhere in the deep desert tore at her heart with a piercing pain, but the knowledge that Hissin would do his utmost until the very end offered her a fragile solace.

“May I… go closer to look?”

“As close as you need.”

Hissin slowly released their joined hands. Dahlia stepped carefully closer, drawing near the remains laid out upon the floor.

These were family she had never met.

Taken by Khanqundra’s hand soon after her birth, it was only natural that she held no memory of them.

And yet, an inexplicable ache, a profound yearning, swelled within her. She couldn’t distinguish their genders, their ages, their faces—time had rendered them beyond all recognition.

But to see her family again, even like this… it filled Dahlia with an impossible blend of sorrow and a heart-wrenching joy.

This must be the moment her mother had visited her in a dream for.

No matter that she had lived her whole life as a crown princess, her mother must have wished for her to never forget the blood she carried.

To let her know, even if her daughter was left alone in the world, her family gone ahead would be watching over her.

Gazing at the remains, Dahlia sobbed quietly. Her heart was heavy with the guilt of having left her family in that desolate desert for so long, yet at the same time, she was immeasurably grateful to Hissin, who had made it possible for her to find them now.

“Thank you… truly, thank you. If not for you, I could never, never have…”

Hissin’s large, warm hand settled upon her trembling shoulder.

Enfolded in his embrace, Dahlia wept for a long time, a torrent of grief, regret, and a profound, aching relief. When her tears had somewhat subsided, Hissin stroked her back slowly, gently, and spoke in a low voice.

“What would you have me do once all the remains are found?”

He brushed away the lingering tears from the corners of her eyes as he continued.

“I intend to see them laid to rest exactly as you wish. If you desire a grand mausoleum built to honor their spirits, I will raise one upon the ground you choose. If you wish for a temple where all may look upon them with reverence, a temple shall be built.”

“…”

“Whatever you wish for, you have only to say it. It will be yours.”

Not a trace of falsehood existed in Hissin’s low, intimate whisper.

If it was what Dahlia desired, he stood ready—willing and eager—to do anything for her.

Lost in thought for a moment, Dahlia recalled the dream once more. The image of her mother strolling across the green grassland.

Upon that vibrant field, a sight she could never have seen in the lightless dungeons, her mother had looked freer than anyone.

Confined for a lifetime to a pitch-black underground prison without a sliver of light, then buried for years beneath the deep desert even in death…

Now, more than anything, she wanted her family to find their rest, to finally bask in warm sunshine and lush meadows.

“A grassland… I want to lay them to rest in a grassland rich with grass. A vast meadow where the bright sun shines during the day, and at night, the moonlight falls like the gaze of the Goddess Nuit.”

“A grassland. Perfect.”

Hissin promised Dahlia that once all the remains were recovered, he would prepare a funeral for them in the manner of the Hinnah people.

“And… there is one more decision you must make.”

Even without him saying it, Dahlia could guess what it was.

Emperor Khandra. Hissin had killed all the imperial prisoners brought from Baren along with Chancellor Zeta Mindhu, but Khandra alone he had spared, imprisoning him once more in the Sun Iron Pillar.

It was because he believed that the act of taking his life did not belong to him, but to Dahlia.

Dahlia fell into deep contemplation, unable to reach a swift decision.

Part of her yearned to repay him in kind—to inflict upon him the same suffering he had wrought upon her, who had stolen her parents, violated her family, and ultimately carried out their brutal slaughter.

But now, Saltar and the other royals were all dead, and he alone remained.

Now, the only thing he had left was his life, and she was loath to grant him an easy death. She wanted him to taste prolonged suffering, to swing between hope and despair, and to inch slowly towards his demise.

But there was no way for Dahlia to repay him with suffering equal to what she and her family had endured.

To leave him confined forever in the Sun Iron Pillar, or to subject him to wild, random torture… all of it felt like too light a punishment for Khandra.

As Dahlia hesitated, lost in her deliberation, unable to easily decide…

“If your desire is for the most extreme torment, we can assist with that.”

It was Hovan, who had been silently guarding the entrance until then. He spoke, having read the intent in Dahlia’s eyes.

“The Blood of Janna is not merely benevolent.”

Hovan’s gaze shifted to Hissin. Understanding what he meant, a thought also occurred to Hissin.

He sought permission from Dahlia, who was still in his embrace.

“If you wish it, I could use my ability.”

The Blood of Janna.

A dangerous power that could compel its drinker to obey their master, turning them into a living puppet.

For Khankundra, who had reigned as emperor above all creation for a lifetime, there was perhaps no more fitting punishment.

“A simple nod is all it takes. I will handle the rest.”

Hissin spoke, his lips still pressed lightly to Dahlia’s forehead.