Daily life after the subjugation was surprisingly peaceful. Though everyone was busy, their expressions were bright. Even the air inside the mansion seemed to have become refreshingly invigorating.

I liked that kind of peace. The restored peace was satisfying and joyful. However, there was a fear that this peace might be shattered.

The High Priest told me that I would die if the flower bloomed. However, a strange leaf pattern had appeared on my chest.

Can I really avoid connecting this?

Can the truth behind it be something that isn’t frightening? To avoid being caught with this strange pattern again this morning, I pushed aside Jane’s sulking figure and bathed alone… I postponed it as much as I could, but there were limits.

Harsh truth is still the truth.

It must be faced someday.

In that sense, today was a sort of deadline. Since the wizards would be leaving the mansion tomorrow.

“Indeed… Is it perhaps black magic?”

When I asked him again, he nodded with a still contorted expression.

“It seems to be a magic called ‘Black Flower.’ It almost matches the symptoms you described.”

I could tell from the trembling pupils and the trailing off of his words that it wasn’t a favorable situation. After all, it’s black magic, what’s good about it?

I swallowed once to moisten my dry throat. The inside of my mouth felt sticky.

“When you say symptoms…”

“…A pattern appears on the left side of the chest. At first, it’s like a seed, then it grows into a perfect leaf shape… and then, a flower blooms.”

Thud, thud, thud.

The left chest with the engraved pattern thumped loudly. It felt as if the heart itself was crying.

‘When the flower blooms, you will die.’

Once again, the High Priest’s voice echoed in my ears. My head was spinning, but I firmly planted both legs on the ground and looked at Sir Alogen.

“And if the flower blooms, I die?”

As I continued, Sir Alogen quietly closed his lips. It was a silent affirmation.

“By any chance, when the High Priest stayed at the mansion, did you experience symptoms such as nausea, dizziness, or discomfort?”

He’s like a shaman.

This time, I kept my mouth shut. I, too, offered a silent affirmation. Sir Alogen seemed to have understood my affirmation well. A hint of sympathy and something similar flickered in his shaking eyes.

“This magic starts with the caster planting a seed inside the target’s body. The seed soon develops roots inside the body. The period it takes for the roots to develop is about five days… Symptoms include nausea, dizziness, and discomfort.”

Five days…? I counted the days with my damp hands..

On the day I was unwell, that is, when I received a prescription from the doctor. The prescription was probably for about five days. The next prescription was also for five days, but I didn’t take it for a few days because I felt better.

The date matched perfectly. It was too perfect.

“And once the roots develop?”

My voice trembled. My fingertips shook. The back of my tongue felt sore, and my throat was dry. My whole body was wrapped in a strange sensation. I couldn’t tell if time was passing in this space, or if the laughter echoing from inside was genuine… I didn’t know anything.

“Once the roots develop… the seed prepares to come out. And after about two months… it manifests as a pattern around the chest.”

The leaf pattern that I confirmed this morning was vividly in front of me.

Sir Alogen paused and let out a sigh.

It was a small sigh, yet it felt unusually heavy. I tried to endure it, but it seemed to seep out between the gaps, unstoppable.

The air surrounding us pressed down heavily on my shoulders.

“There are a total of seven petals. Usually, two petals bloom each week… When the seventh petal blooms, you die.”

Two petals each week, and when the seventh petal blooms, you die. That meant, at the longest, three weeks… Three and a half weeks to be exact. My mind went blank. The time I had thought was three years off seemed too distant now. The information I just heard didn’t quite register in my mind.

I bit down on my lower lip, then opened my mouth again. No, I tried to open it. The moment I tried to open my mouth, Sir Alogen spoke to me first.

“Are you alright?”

Alright? What… is right in this situation? The situation where, after escaping death, another death is waiting? The situation that I thought was three years suddenly shortened to a month, no, three weeks… Is that okay?

Without an answer, Sir Alogen’s gaze slowly dropped. His eyes that had been facing mine shifted downward. Following his lead, I lowered my gaze.

“Ah.”

His question about whether I was okay was not just about my mental state. My hands were a mess. In my restless state, without my awareness, my hands had tortured me. As I held them, the fingernails on both hands had deeply dug into the back of the other hand.

Blood oozed from the deeply indented back of my hand.

Red marks were smeared all over my fingertips.

Only then did I release my entangled fingers and let go of both hands.

“I’m… I’m okay.”

My voice trembled.

* * *

‘The High Priest is dead. Why does this magic persist?’

‘Earlier, I mentioned that the seed is planted inside the target’s body, and the seed takes root in the body. That’s it. This magic is absorbed by the target. Therefore, it doesn’t have a physical form like a marble but appears as patterns on the body.’

I couldn’t register the explanation. The only conclusion was that, despite the High Priest’s death, this magic continued.

“Is there no way to break the magic?”

“In this case… the caster must be alive to resolve it. But, since the caster has already died…”

Sir Alogen stopped talking and took a deep breath. His eyes looked at the ground, then at my hands, and finally back to my face.

“There is one other method.”

“…..A person with similar abilities to the one who cast the magic. Their blood, tears, and a spell. However, in this method, since the person breaking the magic is not the original caster, both the target and the one attempting to break the magic may lose their lives.”

I remained silent and couldn’t utter a single word.

Risking the lives of others to save my own. That was unacceptable.

… Anyway, I was fated to die in three years. I didn’t want to drag others into hell just to prolong that fate.

‘… I’ll pretend I didn’t hear what we just talked about.’

“Lady.”

“Today’s conversation will remain a secret between me and Sir Alogen.”

“Lady!”

The voice calling me felt urgent. Probably, this choice not to disclose my illness to others might not sit well with those around me.

I shook my head calmly. The trembling fingertips gradually found stability.

“I want to keep it hidden until I can. If my family knows that my time is running out, they’ll treat me like a patient. I’ll spend time looking between finding impractical solutions, experiencing hope and disappointment. I don’t want that.”

Sir Alogen remained silent. With that, I opened my mouth again.

“Really, if I only have three weeks left… I just want to live an ordinary and peaceful life to the best of my ability. As Selina White, a daughter to my parents and a sister to my brother, surrounded by precious people.”

When I finished speaking, Sir Alogen nodded with a contorted face. My tear-stained eyes showed gratitude. Even though we hadn’t known each other well, he seemed saddened by my impending death.

“It won’t be easy for you. Once the first petal blooms, symptoms will start to manifest seriously.”

“….Don’t worry. I’ll let my family know in time.”

With a promise from Sir Alogen that he would keep my situation a secret, I left the terrace.

* * *

I opened my eyes. The familiar ceiling of the room came into view.

Ah, was everything last night just a dream? What a vivid dream.

After wiping the sweat from my forehead, I slowly raised my upper body. As I grabbed the end of the blanket with the hand that wiped away the sweat, the wounds on the back of my hand were vivid.

Well, it must have been a dream. I gripped the end of the blanket with force. When I let go, the blanket was crumpled without mercy. Staring at the crumpled blanket for a moment, I found it unpleasant and spread it open with my hand.

Judging by the dim blue light seeping into the room, it seemed to be just before dawn. A boundary of time neither morning nor night. In the empty room, only the sound of my breathing echoed softly.

I couldn’t close my eyes. Nor were they wide open. With half-closed eyes, I endlessly recalled my conversation with Sir Alogen yesterday and the events to come.

‘To die in three weeks…’

It’s short. It’s a short time.

No matter how I thought about it, it was a short time. It was not just empty words.

I thought ironically. In the past, I couldn’t jump because I was out of breath, and now I’m out of breath because I can’t live.

Lying rigidly on my back, I looked at the ceiling. I slowly raised my upper body.

I hadn’t slept much since I fell asleep late last night….. I couldn’t even sleep for a few hours. After rubbing my sleepy eyes, I leisurely got out of bed.

The place I arrived at was in front of the desk.

It seemed like it’d been a white since I sat at this desk. With a slight smile, I pulled out a chair and sat down.

The book I reached for was the thickest one among the books on the desk, “History and Physiognomy of the Empire.” Why would history and physiognomy be related… Why would such a thick book get published?

With such unnecessary questions in mind, I flipped through the pages. Finally, I found what I was looking for.

Just before I fell asleep last night, Sir Alogen quietly visited my room. He handed me a piece of paper.

‘It’s about the black flower.’

With that one sentence.

Yesterday, I was too preoccupied to read it, so I hid it in this absurd book to avoid being caught by others.

If it’s here, I don’t think it’ll be caught even after 100 years.

The paper, the size of a palm, was densely filled with information about the flower.

‘After the roots are established, symptoms remain quiet for a while, but they appear when the shoots start growing. So, when a total of seven black petals bloom, it leads to death.

‘(About two petals per week – this is usually the cycle. There may be slight differences for each person, but the margin of error is not significant.)

‘Spots in the shape of flowers appear on the body, and after death, the person turns into ashes and disappears, and in that place, a black flower blooms, so it was named the black flower disease.’

Turn into ashes and disappear, that’s too much.

Shouldn’t we at least leave something behind?

I continued reading the content while complaining about the cruel black flower.

__