Healing

"What did you say?!" Overwhelmed by grief and then sudden joy, Tang Feiliu nearly choked on his breath. He shot upright from the sofa, staring at his older brother.

Alexander was utterly frustrated. After all, for the past while, the relief center staff had been hearing nothing but whispers and blatant contempt wherever they went. Some even called them "ridiculous blasphemers."

Were it not for the Emperor’s backing, the Sanctuary would likely have had them arrested and hanged long ago.

And while the Temple couldn't kill them outright, over the years, through their informants and methods, they had driven the Refuge to the brink of extinction.

Recently, the Temple had proclaimed that believers should pray and await death. Some who heard of the Relief Center came seeking help as a last resort—though this effectively meant they were being used as pawns by the Temple. Yet, faced with these suffering souls, how could one hold such calculations against them?

Saving lives must come first.

Yet the Templars were so meticulous—they sent only those who would die within a day or two. The constant stream of arrivals and departures left Charlemagne on the verge of despair. He even began to doubt whether the patients he had cured in the past had truly suffered from cholera like this. Yet he was a man of extraordinary resilience. With Charlemagne's steadfast support, Thorn quietly consulted his mentor on cholera treatments. With Tang Feiliu occasionally contributing insights, they continuously adjusted the medicinal formula. Finally, last night, a patient who had been unconscious for a relatively short time regained consciousness.

It was late into the night, and since Charlemagne saw the patient's condition was still unstable, he forbade anyone from spreading the news. Only after confirmation today did Alexander receive Charlemagne's approval, allowing him to rush back like the wind to deliver the good news.

Day after day, Alexander endured the Templars' scornful remarks about his brother and heard endless talk of the play The Flatterer, which had reportedly become the most popular script lately. Having suppressed his frustration for so long while constantly in Charlemagne's company, he now felt an urgent need to shout it from the rooftops.

"Dispatch someone to the palace immediately... No! I must report this directly to Her Majesty!" Tang Feiliu had initially intended to notify Edward, but then remembered his superior was now the Empress. Such news demanded immediate communication with Empress Josephine.

Tang Feiliu was beyond agitated. He prepared a carriage and rushed straight to the palace, delivering the news directly to Her Majesty Josephine, who was already overwhelmed with urgent matters.

Monarchs of this era differed somewhat from feudal Asian emperors. At least, noble ministers need not kneel on both knees before the emperor. Most nobles were knights, and upon seeing the monarch, they performed a knightly salute—a single knee to the ground. Nor did imperial deliberations resemble the grand Asian court ceremonies with rows of officials chanting "Long live the Emperor!" Instead, a group gathered in the council chamber. Her Majesty Josephine sat upon the luxurious throne, observing the officials seated below as they reported developments from across the realm. Among them were nobles who had yet to escape the palace, now arguing fiercely before Her Majesty. Though it appeared to be a domestic council, the underlying purpose was clear: exploiting the recent plague to discuss the absurdity of relief efforts—a warning from the Temple, testing Her Majesty's resolve.

Tang Feiliu listened to their arrogant words, reflecting that although Nat was now a feudal monarchy where nobles essentially ruled like kings within their domains, exerting formidable constraints on the sovereign, this group's unwavering loyalty to the Temple explained why the imperial family was growing increasingly intolerant of the institution.

But such matters were not for a minor figure like him to concern himself with. Tang Feiliu was ushered inside and immediately reported with utmost reverence that the first patient had finally been cured.

At this news, Her Majesty Josephine, who had been rubbing her temples and trying to mediate the dispute moments before, instantly forgot her headache. Seizing the opportunity, she addressed Duke Machi, who had been lamenting before the imperial court and incessantly invoking divine protection: "Duke Machi, I admire your devotion to your faith. But as the Emperor of this empire, my foremost duty is to ensure the survival of my people!"

The moment these words left her lips, the Duke of March knew he was in trouble. In truth, the faction loyal to the divine cause, represented by the Duke, had sensed trouble brewing after Tang Feiliu entered to report. Yet they hadn't anticipated Her Majesty Josephine being so bluntly dismissive this time.

The relationship between nobles and the Emperor was delicate. While conflicts could escalate to any degree, there was always a limit. After all, the Emperor relied on the nobility to mobilize their knights to protect him and fight for him in times of crisis—much like the relationship between the Zhou Heavenly Son and his feudal lords.

The problem was, the nobles also depended on the Emperor to grant titles to their heirs. Under the succession system, while only legitimate sons could formally inherit titles, with some maneuvering, most sons could inherit their fathers' titles—provided the nobles played their cards right.

Ancient nobles lacked this concern because this right was split between the royal house and the Temple. Strictly speaking, the imperial court could only consent to their children inheriting titles. The true legitimacy of this inheritance came from the Temple. Moreover, the imperial court rarely provoked disputes with the Temple over minor matters. Thus, in most cases, nobles could largely ignore even their own sovereigns during peacetime, provided they skillfully curried favor with the Temple.

But times have changed. Years ago, when the previous pope was embroiled in a major scandal, the royal houses of various nations seized this authority. They moved from paying lip service to the Church to acting openly and decisively, allowing emperors to reclaim their rights.

Consequently, the royal houses' status grew increasingly significant.

The present era was awkward indeed. While the nobles understood intellectually that the royal houses now controlled the inheritance of their future fortunes, and recognized their current relationship as one of mutual restraint, the problem lay in the disconnect between reason and emotion.

After all, many nobles were devoted supporters of the Templars. Most had been baptized into the Templar faith from childhood, raised as believers. How could mere secular power sway such deeply held convictions?

What Her Majesty Josephine has done this time truly challenges everyone's understanding. Led by the Duke of March, this group initially merely voiced opposition. Now, seeing that people in the workhouses are still dying daily, they've grown increasingly brazen. Only upon noticing the expression on Her Majesty Josephine's face—who had remained silent until now—did they realize whether their recent attitude had been overly arrogant.

They would never dare act this way toward any other emperor. But Her Majesty Josephine was a woman, and having ascended the throne only recently, the Duke of March and his cohorts likely held more reverence for Edward than for this mere woman.

Only now, seeing Her Majesty Josephine's expression, did they realize their behavior had been excessive. They sought an opportunity to make amends, but Her Majesty had already dismissed them entirely. She changed into plain clothes and instructed Tang Feiliu to escort her to the relief center to inspect the medical situation.

Her Majesty Josephine personally left the palace to visit the infirmary and comfort the sick. Two days later, she would deliver a major address at the palace gates!

News of Her Majesty's visit to the relief center spread like wildfire.

The entire populace was in an uproar!

Not only because of Her Majesty's presence, but also because the relief center had been curing patients one after another! While the Temple Hospital continued to carry out the dying daily, the poorhouse's patients began recovering one after another. Some had already returned home, having been brought back from the brink of death. Most had accepted the poorhouse's treatment regimen. Under their influence, people—fearful of death—witnessed relatives and friends saved by the poorhouse. Seeing its proven effectiveness, what reason was there to resist?

This was true for ordinary folk, let alone the wealthier classes who feared death even more. Not long after Her Majesty Josephine visited the relief center, Johnson was stunned to discover that the soap he sold alongside perfume in his Imperial City shop was being snapped up rapidly.

Before he could react, queues began forming outside his shop, demanding soap.

Johnson had actually made two batches during production. One was medicinal soap, boiled with expensive herbs, said to better prevent illness.

The other batch was plain soap for basic cleansing.

The medicinal ingredients were costly, so Johnson had produced only a limited quantity. Now that it was sold out, the ordinary soap—affordable and effective—quickly drew a long line of customers.

The soap stockpiled in the warehouse vanished at a pace visible to the naked eye, leaving Johnson utterly bewildered by the sudden turn of events.

After all, he was a nouveau riche with little access to information.

The next day, Mr. Johnson learned why. He received the most prestigious invitation of his life—a front-row seat to His Majesty Emperor Josephine's speech.

Johnson felt faint—had he just taken a gamble and made an investment potentially more lucrative than his father's?!

While Johnson basked in his joy, on the other side of the imperial city, the Duke of March, a devout worshipper of the Divine, paced restlessly at home. Despite his constant vigilance and the constant prayers of the Temple's divine emissaries for his family, the daughter of his most beloved mistress had now fallen ill.

Though both dukes and members of the great nobility, the Duke of March paled in comparison to Edward.

Edward possessed his own duchy, with the entire region of York encompassing roughly one-third of Nat's territory. while the late duke was a cousin of the deceased emperor, himself of royal blood. Moreover, Edward's mother and Her Majesty Josephine both descended from the same branch of the Franconian royal family. Edward not only inherited the late duke's duchy but was also third in line to the Franconian throne and now the first heir apparent to Her Majesty Josephine.

A duke ruling his own duchy is effectively a king unto himself. York's vast territory surpasses some neighboring small nations in both size and wealth. Edward's frugal and self-disciplined nature, combined with his exceptional skill as a military commander... In short, this holds entirely different weight compared to the Duke of March, who possesses only limited lands.

Yet the House of March had produced no capable administrators for generations. Instead, its members remained fiercely loyal to the Crown, embodying the archetype of old-guard nobility. They took pride in their lineage and status, despising those of lower birth—a trait once valued. after all, the old duke and the old emperor had once most admired the March Duke's straightforward character and his unwavering faith. But in the presence of Josephine and Edward, this very trait only prompted the two to tacitly accelerate their efforts to find the March Duke something to occupy himself with.

Consequently, several wealthy merchants who had aligned themselves with the Duke of March now found themselves struggling to operate within the imperial capital.

The Duke of March himself, however, was seething with righteous indignation. He privately complained to his steward: "I knew that devil's spawn would bring nothing but trouble. A woman ruling the empire, renouncing the faith in the gods... May the divine wrath fall upon those blasphemers."

As he scribbled notes, a servant arrived bearing news: his mistress and daughter were gravely ill and wished to seek medical aid at the charity hospital.

Duke March flew into a rage, slamming his fist on the table and bellowing, "Block their way! Let them pray to God properly and abandon those wicked thoughts, or no one will save them!"

The duke gasped for breath in fury, but this was only the beginning. The next day, Her Majesty Josephine stepped into the public eye for the first time, delivering her inaugural address to the masses.

Author's Note:

Thanks to Tangyuan Nuonuo and Wusan for the support.

How are your kidneys holding up? Let me give them a rub, haha.