The Devil's Son and His Fated Bride
Chapter 21: To regain her strength

Chapter 21: To regain her strength

The air was fresh and delightful. This land was blessed with an unparalleled beauty. A crisp breeze blew, making the flowers bristle and creating a tranquility that was rare to experience.

Ren’s eyes sparkled with joy and satisfaction as they moved through the courtyard, captivated by the vibrant colors of blooming flowers and the soft hum of bees weaving between them. The sight of neatly trimmed hedges and the distant sound of a bubbling fountain created a serene atmosphere, leading her to the tower that housed the infirmary. It was surprising to see such a large space dedicated to the healers. She hadn’t expected it, but it was clear that her husband cared deeply about the health of his subordinates.

However, a problem loomed ahead; the wheelchair couldn’t ascend the steps. More than twenty steep, weathered steps stood between them and their destination, their uneven surfaces hinting at years of wear. It was a climb that could exhaust even a healthy individual, let alone someone in Ren’s condition. That one was irrational, and very tough for the sick patients to climb.

"This is the infirmary, my lady. The alchemist’s lab is farther away, near the edge of the walls that border the forest," the maid explained.

Ren smiled. "Labs are dangerous to have among residents. I’m glad to hear it’s located away from here."

The maid gave her a troubled smile, glancing at the steps with concern. "I suppose we’ll need to ask someone to carry you."

Ren flexed her fingers, feeling the faint sensation in her legs. Shaking her head, she replied, "I can rely on you. I feel like I can bend my knees. Help me work on it."

Gloria narrowed her eyes, unsure if this idea would work as Ren hoped. Her lady wasn’t heavy, so Gloria nodded despite her reservations.

Leaning on Gloria’s shoulder with one arm, Ren pressed hard on her knees. She stumbled slightly but soon managed to stand, relying entirely on her maid for support.

Ren hated being a liability. Memories of her once-active life haunted her, and the thought of being unable to contribute to her new role as Luna stung deeply. Determined to regain her strength, she resolved to create a potion to restore her stamina—one of her innovative solutions that had earned her praise back in Zillgaira. It wasn’t just about her pride; it was about proving to herself that she could still stand strong, no matter the challenges ahead.

And Zillgaira, the only place she wouldn’t miss as it didn’t have enough good memories in her mind, where she had lived with her family. Her father ruled over that cold, oceanic land known for its abundant resources and shipping facilities. Yet, smugglers often aggravated her father’s problems, making life difficult.

The climb was arduous, and passersby gave them mocking looks but offered no assistance. Opening the hearts of such cold individuals would be a challenge for Ren.

By the time they ascended the last step, both women were gasping for breath. Ren realized that being the Alpha King’s wife would deliver her no favors if she remained so fragile. She needed to strengthen herself.

As they caught their breath, three females emerged from the infirmary door. They stood before Ren, their faces adorned with sneers.

"Our crippled Luna is here for a cure?" one of them mocked.

Ren was taken aback to see this woman here, having the audacity to insult her. She regretted feeling pity for this individual earlier when she had helped save her. This woman was cunning and looked at her with disdain. Elaika.

"I hope you’ll forgive your Luna," Ren said, restraining her urge to retaliate. "As you mentioned, I have matters to handle here."

With Gloria’s help, Ren limped forward. However, the shrewd female stuck out her leg, causing both Ren and Gloria to trip and crash to the ground.

Laughter erupted from the trio, loud and sharp, carrying a tone of cruel amusement that echoed in the air. The black-haired woman with hazel eyes feigned remorse. "You should watch your step, dear Luna. You wouldn’t want to make our beloved King a widower so soon."

The other woman, with long, wavy green hair, had a softer face but was even harsher when she spoke. "Humans tossed you out. Why should we accept you, huh?"

Grinding her teeth, Ren pressed her palms to the ground and turned to Gloria. "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"

Gloria shook her head, but the tears in her eyes betrayed her hurt feelings.

"Are your legs sore?" Gloria asked softly.

Ren shook her head and cleaned her scratched palms, which had taken the brunt of the fall. Standing up, they ignored the women’s taunts.

After taking a few steps forward, a tall man with white hair suddenly appeared, his dangerous glare silencing the mocking women behind her.

"I believe Your Highness will be sending three chaotic birds away from the castle," he said.

Ren smirked. "I believe it’s better if we hunt them instead." She turned and shot the women a mischievous glare after roasting them, enjoying their terror as they quickly darted out of sight.

The man smiled triumphantly and extended his hand. "Follow me, please. I’ve prepared a ward for you."

As they entered the ward, Ren and Gloria exchanged glances. Inside, there was only a chair in the middle of the room and a man with fiery red hair standing beside it. This man was no ordinary individual.

His yellow eyes were piercing, his peach-toned skin and high cheekbones giving him an ethereal appearance. His old-fashioned gray attire added to his mystique. He was leaner than shifters, even slimmer than Rigo, who was already slender.

The man’s fierce gaze seemed to penetrate Ren’s mind, as though reading her deepest secrets. His appearance exuded intelligence, and Ren couldn’t help but stare.

A Fae?

"This is Agara, Your Highness’s old friend," the healer said.

"A...F...Fae?" Gloria blurted out, echoing Ren’s thoughts.

"You must be Princess Reneira D’Orient," the man said, his voice deep yet gentle, like a mild breeze.

"Yes. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting?" Ren asked.

"I’m Agara Al-Gathiran, your husband’s third cousin. He summoned me here to inspect your magic, and it would have been rude to refuse."

His demeanor was respectful. Based on her knowledge of Fae’s characteristics, Ren deduced he was a half-blood—half-human, half-Fae. Such individuals possessed light magic, a heritage passed down through generations.

"Please, have a seat. Let me heal your legs first."

Ren felt as though she had been struck by lightning. Was he really going to heal her using magic? A surge of hesitation gripped her—what if this magic awakened something dormant within her, something she couldn’t control? The thought of causing a disaster made her stomach pitch with unease. She had never let magic be performed on her.

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