HPTL Chapter 1.5
by Luci Pearl《“Chris, you need to come right now. Mirae’s very sick.”》
“Mirae!”
Christian burst through the gate into Yelena’s house, shouting loudly.
“Mirae! Yelena!”
“Here, Chr—Chris! What’s wrong with your feet? Where are your shoes?”
Shoes?
He’d run so frantically that he hadn’t even noticed he was barefoot.
“I’m fine. Where’s Mirae?”
Despite the blood dripping from his soles, Christian sought Miraera first. Yelena sighed at his grim expression and led him to a room. Opening the heart-shaped door, they revealed a bed where Miraera lay. Christian approached her.
“Mirae, sweetheart, are you okay?”
He touched the forehead of Miraera, eyes closed and breathing raggedly, then frowned at Yelena behind him.
“What happened? Why’s she burning up like this? It’s only been an hour since she left the house. Wasn’t she fine then?”
“It started recently. We’d just gotten here, bathed, and were about to sleep when I noticed. I thought it was a simple cold at first, but the symptoms are strange.”
“Strange how?”
“Look there—do you see the mark on her forehead?”
Yelena pointed to Miraera’s forehead, hidden by damp bangs. Christian’s eyes widened as he shifted his gaze. This was…!
“Chris, have you ever placed a protective spell on Mirae? It seems her fever’s tied to this mark. She might not wake until it fades. If you know anything about it—”
“Henna Paras1.”
Before Christian could speak, someone answered Yelena. Startled, she and Christian—who’d been staring at Miraera with a hardened face—turned toward the voice.
There stood a black-haired man, gazing at them, having somehow entered the house. ‘Damn it.’ Christian moved to drive out the man who casually approached the bed, peering at the glowing black mark on Miraera’s forehead.
“Henna Paras—isn’t that one of the symptoms of the fever that Imperial children experience when they’re young?”
But Yelena’s lips moved faster. The man with violet eyes slowly shifted his gaze from Miraera to Yelena’s question.
“Oh? You know that you must truly be a physician.”
Roman Erenstein crossed his arms, chuckling. He glanced at Yelena, who bowed silently, then asked,
“Can you cure it?”
Yelena shook her head.
“I’ve heard Henna Paras isn’t something an ordinary physician can treat. In Cassel’s imperial family—especially the Erenstein clan—it’s a childhood illness only those of their blood can resolve. If treatment’s delayed even slightly… her life could be at risk.”
“Well, yes. It’s a damn nuisance. Though it’s not really a disease—just a tool our ancestors planted to confirm true imperial lineage. But thanks to it…”
Roman Erenstein flicked his eyes toward Christian, who’d clamped his mouth shut.
“It’s now clear that the child is a member of the Erenstein family.”
Christian couldn’t speak. Meeting that piercing gaze was torment enough.
“Pa… Papa… Papa.”
Then, Miraera—unconscious, drenched in sweat—mumbled. Christian cried, “Mirae!” and grasped her tiny hand, but she didn’t open her eyes.
Her body blazed. It felt like she’d melt away, her breaths hot and labored. Each rise and fall of her chest made the black mark on her forehead flicker. She shivered as if chilled, tears streaming, sweat beading across her trembling form.
Miraera, who’d never known sickness since birth, lay helpless, unable to wake. Christian’s heart raced with urgency.
He turned to the man merely observing the situation.
“Can you… help Mirae?”
Everyone in the room knew who he addressed. Roman Erenstein stretched a grin.
“You want my help?”
“…Yes.”
Roman smiled, then glanced at Yelena, who watched them anxiously.
“You may leave.”
His tone was commanding as if giving orders was second nature.
Yelena looked at Christian first. When he nodded, she bowed respectfully, opened the door, and left. Click. As it closed, Roman muttered,
“To think a so-called mother didn’t foresee this and dragged the child all the way here. What would they have done without me?”
His rebuke aimed at the departed Yelena, but Christian felt a pang of guilt. He eyed Roman, who clicked his tongue, and asked,
“Will you help Mirae?”
Roman looked down at Christian kneeling before him, then lowered his gaze. He glanced at Miraera’s ragged breathing, then back at Christian’s stiff, rigid face. Smirking deeply, he touched Christian’s chin with his long fingers.
“…!”
Roman lifted Christian’s downturned face and said,
“If I help? What can you offer me? As you know, Lord Baren, this prince doesn’t move without compensation.”
Christian’s blue eyes wavered, then steadied.
‘Right, this is who he is.’
Roman Erenstein was a man who didn’t help others without reason, acting only on his whims.
Though he currently misunderstood Miraera as the crown prince’s child, any rational person wouldn’t ignore a suffering child of their own bloodline. Yet here he was, leveraging her life for a bargain.
Expecting normal compassion from such a man was Christian’s own greed. He met Roman’s gaze, fixed on his lips, and said,
“I’ll do anything.”
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
“Even whatever condition I set?”
“If you save Mirae, I’ll give my life.”
Roman’s face twisted at Christian’s resolute answer.
‘Not the response he wanted?’
Christian faltered slightly as Roman glared, displeasure evident. Seconds later, Roman released his chin.
“Fine. I’ll help. But when Mirae wakes, you’ll do what I demand—whatever it is. You said it yourself, so you must obey.”
Christian bowed respectfully, kissing Roman’s foot.
“May the sacred Goddess Kaent’s protection be with Your Highness.”
︶︶︶ ✦ ⋆˚₊⋆ ☽༄༅༄☾ ⋆₊˚⋆ ✦ ︶︶︶
Henna Paras signifies a surge of magical power.
In the Cassel Empire’s millennia-long history, the Erenstein imperial family—blessed with ancient spirit blood—wielded formidable magic.
However, even those who carried Erenstein’s blood weren’t all recognized as members of the royal family. Even if they had relations and a child was born, accepting someone of unknown origin would cause the people of Cassel to lose respect for them.
Thus, the Erenstein ancestors imposed a unique restriction on their descendants: Henna Paras.
Henna Paras begins when Erenstein children reach the age of five or six, and to quell the magical surge, an adult Erenstein must infuse them with a certain amount of magic over a specific period.
Failing to receive this magic means they are not recognized by their clan. Imperial children always confirmed their legitimacy in this way.
“That should do it.”
Roman Erenstein extended his arm, touching the sleeping child’s forehead. Her scorching fever had cooled, and the black mark vanished under his magic.
He gazed silently at the girl. Her snow-white skin, pert nose, and plump red lips made her prettier than most peers—a true Erenstein, bearer of ancient spirit blood.
Yet, oddly, she didn’t remind him of “Hyung-nim.”
‘The hair color’s the only resemblance.’
Did daughters typically take after their mothers as children?
The fleeting curiosity faded. Though mildly charming, the girl wasn’t his concern. Brushing off his interest, Roman stepped outside.
As he quietly closed the door and turned to leave, he stopped short. A man sat against the wall by the door, asleep.
“….”
The brown-haired man faced the door, likely planning to rush in if it opened. Roman watched him, unmoving despite his exit, for a while.
Strange.
The Christian Baren he knew reacted to the slightest sound or movement. Yet this man slept deeply, oblivious to Roman’s presence. Was he always this dull?
‘What happened to him?’
The past seven years were a mystery Roman couldn’t fathom.
“If you save Mirae, I’ll give my life.”
That fleeting memory soured his mood.
‘What a wretched thought.’
A nominal child—not even truly his kin—yet he’d offer his precious life? Did this knight have spares? Was he that devoted to Hyung-nim?
Utterly unpleasant. Roman hesitated to wake the man sitting in front of the door.
Creak.
Stepping out of the cabin, he looked up at the pitch-black sky greeting him.
“…!”
Feeling the dawn air, he closed his eyes briefly, then turned toward a sound breaking the silence. A red-haired woman came into view, brewing medicine. Her familiar face was from their earlier exchange—and…
<The eldest son of the Baren Count family, Christian Baren, broke his knightly oath and fled with a commoner woman in the dead of night!>
Roman Erenstein approached her. The woman, Yelena, who was diligently preparing medicine, perhaps for Mireira, who would soon wake, jumped up in surprise at Roman’s shadow.
“I greet Your Noble Highness.”
Roman’s eyes crinkled.
“You know me?”
Yelena answered head bowed.
“How could a citizen of Cassel not recognize the empire’s most handsome man with those stunning purple eyes? I knew you were the Second Prince at once.”
“No wonder you didn’t hesitate to speak to me. Now you’re even flattering me.”
Roman commanded,
“Look up.”
As Yelena raised her face, Roman regarded her coldly. She took a deep breath.
After a moment, he stepped closer, grabbing her chin. “Eek!” She flinched, frightened by his sudden move, as he whispered,
“Did that glib tongue of yours seduce Hyung-nim and then ensnare Lord Baren too?”
“…What?”
“He’s too good for you.”
Roman released her roughly.
“Ugh!”
Yelena crumpled. Glaring at her gasping form, Roman said,
“He’s beyond you, so I’ll take him now. Don’t resent me—he was never yours to begin with.”
Turning away, he reentered the cabin. Yelena, staring blankly at his retreating figure, soon chuckled softly.
‘You know nothing.’