"Are you sure you'll be alright with only so little?" a maid frantically asked as she held a tray of food that was barely touched.

"I just don't have much of an appetite," Beatrice said with a soft smile to ease the maid's tension. Beatrice sat in her bed within the imperial palace while placating her maids. It was a bed she hadn't left in weeks. "The doctors say it's nothing to worry about, so I'll trust them since they were sent by James."

"…Of course." The maids didn't dare continue their questioning since James' name was brought up, though they still worried about Beatrice. "Should we fetch more blankets?" Beatrice was becoming worryingly thin despite still holding a healthy color in her skin.

"If you could, please."

"Right away!" The maids quickly bowed and left to get more blankets which allowed Beatrice some peace and quiet.

"…" Beatrice held her motherly smile despite the gnawing pain in her stomach. "Hush, now." She placed both hands over her stomach and channeled healing magic to stop the pain of her failing organs. "Not yet." But only just enough to stop the pain. Beatrice knew she was being drugged with birth control from multiple people and was more than willing to take and mix the drugs in her stomach. Since she didn't show any outward signs of illness, aside from her skipping meals and becoming thinner, her condition was never seriously investigated. Silently, in her gilded cage, Beatrice waited.

"Saintess?" Her wait was finally over as a shattering sound came from her bathroom and Lucina soon entered her room.

"Welcome back, Harbinger," Beatrice warmly greeted while doing her best to bow while remaining seated in her bed. "I apologize for not properly greeting you; my body's not what it used to be."

"I can see that," Lucina idly spoke as she crossed the room to approach Beatrice. "Are you still on a hunger strike?"

"Hunger strike? This is just some casual fasting," Beatrice joked. She beamed a hopeful smile to Lucina, and asked, "Now, what can I help you with, Harbinger?"

"…" Despite the thick gown she wore, Lucina could see how far Beatrice's stomach sank into her body. Her eyes rose to meet Beatrice's sunsets which weren't as shimmering as they once were, and said, "I have a plan."

"…Really?" Relief washed over Beatrice, her shoulders relaxed, and she asked, "What do you need me to do?"

"Honestly, I was going to ask you to play up a pathetic act to win sympathy…but just seeing you as you are will do the trick." Lucina turned to leave. "Prince Terence will be here soon, so I'll-"

"Harbinger?" Beatrice suddenly grabbed Lucina's wrist to stop her. "A moment?" Her fingers felt like nothing but bone.

"…What?" Lucina watched Beatrice open the nightstand next to her bed, pull out a sandwich she'd hidden from earlier, and take a bite before dropping it to the floor.

"While I doubt you'll ever need it, I'd like to give you a good piece of advice." She dragged her legs over the side of the bed and leaned forward. Green hair draped over her face to hide her expression. "You see…" Her voice was getting raspier. "Life magic is a wonderful thing that can heal wounds…large or small…" She was becoming short of breath. "And while it can stave off disease and poison…" Beatrice lifted her head. "It can't cure them."

"!?!" Lucina stared in shock as she watched the color fade out of Beatrice's skin until it held a sickly grayish hue. As Beatrice released all the healing magic she was using to keep her body going, the buildup of drugs in her body was let loose all at once. "Saintess!?"

"Like a dam…bursting after a storm…" Beatrice reached out and grabbed Lucina with her other hand. "Don't…deal with drugs." Even though her body was actively dying, and the pain that wracked her was debilitating, Beatrice still smiled warmly up at Lucina.

"What are you doing!?" Lucina angrily lectured the ailing Saintess, "Why are you letting your body get like this!? I asked you to wait so we could pull those idiots off their high horses, not so you could rot away!" She tried to push Beatrice back down into the bed but found herself hoisting Beatrice up to her feet. "I already fed Solomon to a pack of demons! Don't you want to personally see the other three fall!?"

"…Not really," Beatrice laughed as she tried to steady herself on her shaky legs.

"Is your sickness also affecting your head?" Lucina bitterly spat as she, again, fruitlessly tried to get Beatrice to sit back down. "Don't you hate them!?"

"Say, Harbinger?" Until Beatrice asked the strangest question. "Do you remember Chadman?"

"…What?" The odd question threw Lucina off and it took her a moment to register how to respond. "The…Peltairan general I fought during the war?" Lucina had no idea what prompted Beatrice to ask about him.

"Yes…" Beatrice continued to smile. "The old Saint of Muz."

"…" Lucina recalled her battle with the Grand Master of the Heavenly Dragons. Aura that could sunder castle walls and physical strength that could counter even Peter's greatsword while barehanded. A monster through and through.

"Was he an…odd man?" Another odd question from Beatrice.

But Lucina still responded, "I'd say so… He was obsessed with honor and pride to the point it was nauseating. He didn't know how to back down but also couldn't do what needed to be done to survive." She caught Beatrice as she stumbled forward. "Why? There's no way you could have personally known him."

"I've only read about him, but…he and I truly are similar…" Beatrice chuckled through lips that were turning a gentle purple.

"What do you-"

"Harbinger?" Beatrice's arms shook as they gripped onto Lucina's. "What's it like…to hate?"

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

"…Huh?" A dark air started to suffocate the room.

"Not once in my five lives…have I ever hated someone…" Beatrice pressed her forehead against Lucina's shoulder for support. "I've been saddened by people, disappointed by them, upset with them…but never have I come to 'hate'. Not even Solomon Kor… I always felt bad for him having taken the path he did…so…" She took a few seconds to control her breathing before looking up into Lucina's twisted briars. "What's it like?"

"…" Lucina was stunned into silence as Beatrice's unspoken meaning dawned on her: Beatrice didn't know how to hate because a Saintess of Alm shouldn't hate. Alm was a goddess who sought love and the happiness of family, loyalty, and dedication to the heart. So, then, what about a Saint? Chadman was the Saint of Muz, the goddess of war and personal growth, and he sought perfection in the martial arts and in war. However, Chadman's obsession with honorable combat made him susceptible to Lucina's morbid tactics and ultimately led to his death. Just as the Saint of Muz should never cower in fear or act dishonorably even in the face of death, so too must a Saintess of Alm uphold love and affection even in the face of abuse. "It's…a rather ugly emotion." An emotion that was unnecessary to a Saintess of Alm. "It's like a raging fire."

"A fire?" Beatrice shifted her gaze to the center of the room despite nothing being there.

"Yes. It's a fire that burns inside your gut telling you that, no matter what, you will never get along with someone. Like…" Lucina did her best to explain it but was finding it rather difficult. "The fire only flares up when you see or think about them and when you do it doesn't go away for a long time. Even when you think it's gone, it's just simmering under the surface waiting to flare up. It'll flare up just from them talking, even if they're not saying anything wrong… I guess."

"Ah…I see…" Beatrice pulled on Lucina's arms to come with her as she started shuffling toward the center of the room. "It really…does sound ugly." Her eyes seemed to focus on something.

"It is." But Lucina couldn't see anything aside from the empty floor. "It-!?" Lucina had to quickly hold Beatrice close as Beatrice suddenly started dry heaving. Her body wanted to throw up but there was nothing in her stomach to empty aside from the single bite of the sandwich she took earlier which was forced up and spat to the side.

"It…sounds…awful…" Beatrice forced out through her gags. The built-up drugs in her body continued their work against Beatrice's already weakened state, accelerating the decline. "But…also…" Beatrice continued to shuffle forward. "Makes me…curious…"

"You want to hate?"

"I don't know." Beatrice once more had to pause to catch her breath, but eventually continued, "If our Hearth Mother took away my ability to hate, then there must be a reason…right? Yet even still…I'm curious."

"…That's unbecoming of you, Saintess," Lucina dryly joked.

"Yeah…I guess…" Beatrice led Lucina to the center of the room where they stood in silence. Her eyes continued to focus on something that wasn't there as if being beckoned by an unseen hand. "Can you…set me down…by the campfire?"

"…Sure." Lucina couldn't see any campfire, but her theology class from when she was young gave her the answer. In multiple accounts over the years, those with extreme faith would often see similar visions when on their deathbed, and those faithful to Alm were said to see a campfire that beckoned them to sit by it.

"Thank you…" Beatrice continued to smile as Lucina helped her kneel and sit on the floor. Her eyes were fixated on a campfire that only she could see as she sat on an old log that wasn't there. The white room around her faded away into a dark, star filled night in the middle of an impossible forest. The flames of the campfire crackled and popped as a tender warmth spread over Beatrice. Looking up from the fire, Beatrice saw a feminine figure in a reddish-brown robe sitting across from her on a black stone. While only darkness oozed out from the raised hood, Beatrice felt no malice from the figure, or fear to turn away, but instead felt an understanding comfort. "Is it…over…?"

"…" The figure said nothing, but nodded their head and poked the fire with a stick. Embers fluttered through the air and happily danced around Beatrice's shoulders as if welcoming an old friend.

"Ah~… At…" Beatrice's sunset eyes finally disappeared beyond their horizon leaving nothing but a black, starless sky in her eyes. Her body slumped over as the last vestige of life left her and her soul was returned to Sailest by Alm.

"…" Lucina stood over Beatrice's corpse in silent contemplation. She couldn't help but pity Beatrice's miserable life and end. "Not even allowed to hate?" she muttered under her breath. "I suppose we're all broken, in our own ways." Whether or not Lucina's mental state had anything to do with being the Harbinger of Zulm was something she couldn't say, but she did feel a connection toward Beatrice as she stared at the corpse. The gods were strange in their behaviors: at times hiding behind veils and symbolism, while at others being contradictorily straightforward. "…Sorry about your dignity, Saintess," Lucina said to no one as she knelt down and tore open Beatrice's gown to expose her pale skin, malnourished form, and the marks on her back from the rough sex she'd been through. "I should charge him extra," Lucina bitterly spat as she originally only wanted Terence to meet Beatrice and have them work together to expose how poorly she was being treated. Having a Saintess being treated like a sex toy would have been enough to spark the religious folk into acting, but now? "It's on a silver platter for him." Standing up from the corpse, Lucina walked over to the bathroom to retrieve her metal ball so she could portal home. But before she left, Lucina turned around, gave a deep bow to the corpse, and bid farewell, "May you find peace, Saintess Beatrice."

"…" The corpse silently sat in the center of the room as Lucina opened her portal and left. The sun shined in through the windows with not a cloud in the sky. A calm, peaceful silence.

"It will only be a short visit." A silence broken as Derik's muffled voice came from beyond the door. "Beatrice hasn't been feeling well, lately, so we're keeping those who visit her to a minimum."

"I understand, Sir Derik," Terence kept his cool and the discontent out of his voice. Lucina's instructions were to personally visit Beatrice and that he would understand when he met her. Admittedly, he paid little attention to his brother's wife as the few times they'd met she seemed quite soft-spoken, so Terence was skeptical about what help she could provide. "I just wish to say my regards and a speedy recovery."

"…Then," Derik said as he opened the bedroom door, "I'm back, Bea-…?" Derik thought Beatrice would be in her bed, but was shocked to find the bed empty. His eyes scanned the room and eventually landed on the corpse lying in the center. "Beatrice!?!" Derik rushed to Beatrice's side and scooped her up in his arms. She wasn't breathing. Her skin was too pale. "No…No! No! No! Beatrice, wake up!" Her heart wasn't beating. Swiveling around, Derik shouted out to the maids who accompanied them, "Call the physician! Call-!" His voice caught in his throat as he met Terence's gaze.

"Saintess…?" The provocatively placed bruises and scratches, the frail limbs, the sickly pale skin, a hint of vomit on her lips, Beatrice's corpse looked more like a doll than a person; an old, abused doll. And, unlike his brother and father, Terence did regard the gods as 'gods' since he was an Aurister blessed by Muz. He wasn't the most devout but he still held religious belief in his heart, so bearing witness to the corpse of a Saintess that was so obviously sick yet still covered in lustful marks sickened Terence to his core. "What have you done!?!" Terence shouted at Derik, and partially at the absent Lucina.

"Now's not the time!" Derik shouted back. Getting to his feet with Beatrice's corpse still in his arms, Derik hurried out of the room as he couldn't wait for the doctors to arrive. The maids quickly ran after him, leaving Terence alone in Beatrice's room.

"…" Terence's mind swirled as he went over his thoughts. The Crown Princess, the Saintess of Alm, was dead. She was so sickly, yet he'd never heard a single whisper of it through the normal gossip. Was it a sudden sickness? Then why was she so thin? The fact she still had marks from sex meant James knew, right? Or were they from Derik? Andrew? How could they have missed such obvious signs? Derik also acted surprised, but was that an act or real? "Just what is… Hm?" Reflecting in the sunlight, and catching Terence's eye, was a wet slice of tomato from the sandwich Beatrice intentionally dropped earlier. "She was eating?" The thrown up piece of sandwich was splattered on the floor nearby. Terence walked over and started inspecting the sandwich that wasn't eaten. It looked relatively fresh and only had a single bite taken out of it. "But she was so malnourished. If she was still being fed then…was there something wrong with the food?" Terence peeled back each layer of the sandwich to visually inspect it and was about to put it down when something caught his eye. As the tomato slice glistened in the sun, there were small specs that dirtied its surface. "What is…?" He sniffed the tomato and immediately froze. Another sniff to be sure, and a third just in case. "…Parkcilor?" A plant that wasn't native to Arlexia and was originally brought in from Itrecha and had a subtle sour smell. In small doses, it could be used as a contraceptive, but if used too much and too frequently then it would accumulate in the body and become toxic. "…It's in the food." Was Beatrice skipping meals because her food was being tampered with? The Crown Princess' meals were heavily regulated by the palace so there was no way this was getting through unnoticed.

"My Prince?" Terence's escort knight entered the room when he noticed Terence wasn't leaving. He saw the sandwich in Terence's hands and asked, "Is that the Saintess' meal?"

"…Yes." Terence's voice was distant as he went over the various scenarios in his head. "Swear upon your life of what you saw today."

"My Prince?" the escort was shocked by the request and flinched at the immediacy of Terence's tone.

"Swear!"

"…I, Sir Bartholomew of the Onyx Drakes, swear to speak only the truth when questioned of this day's events!"

Satisfied with his escort's words, Terence stuffed the sandwich into a bag he pulled off his belt, and ordered, "We must move!" He hid the bag in his coat.

"Where to?" His knight quickly got to his feet and hurried after his charge.

"To the alchemists! To the criers!" Terence picked up his pace. He had to get out of the palace as quickly as possible and get the sandwich examined by a trustworthy alchemist he knew. "I want every citizen of this empire to know that, on this day, Saintess Beatrice was poisoned to death!" Derik had already, inadvertently, helped Terence spread the word as his rush to bring Beatrice to the palace doctor had him pass multiple maids, butlers, and guards.

"Did you see that?" Not all of them were blindly loyal to James.

"Wasn't that Her Highness, Saintess Beatrice?" Whose tongues wagged faster than a dog's tail.

"Why was she so pale? I heard she was sick but was it to that extent!?" Whose feet scurried across and beyond the palace.

"Even though I shouldn't look at a naked woman…wasn't she covered in marks?" Whose speculation soared on wings from ear to ear.

"Now that you mention it…I don't think she was breathing!" Whose legitimate concerns finally sparked the tension that had the capital in a vice grip.

"The Saintess is dead!?!"