The Princess' Harem
Chapter 89: Whispers of the Dry Earth

Chapter 89: Whispers of the Dry Earth

Days folded into weeks after Rissa’s arrival at the palace. Her private laboratory, established in a secluded wing far from the main alchemical chambers, became her entire world.

The thick oak door rarely opened. Inside, she worked tirelessly, focused only on the problem at hand. Supplies were delivered quickly, vanishing into her domain without question. She barely stepped outside.

Master Marion, despite her doubts, sent dispatches of rare ingredients, old books, ancient texts, trusting Viana’s strange intuition. The palace grew used to the mysterious alchemist, a strange, intense presence whose existence was known but rarely seen.

Meanwhile, the kingdom’s troubles worsened. January arrived, but instead of the usual winter cold, a harsh, dry drought settled in. The blight, though contained for now, lingered like an illness, poisoning the land. Without snow or rain, the earth began to crack and crumble, struggling under the weight of both sickness and dryness.

Viana faced these escalating crises with firm resolve.

One icy morning, wrapped in thick furs, she rode out with a small group to inspect the western farmlands. Beside her was Cooper, his usual good-natured spirit dimmed by worry.

Reyes, ever vigilant, scanned the dying fields with sharp eyes. Joel, silent and watchful, rode with the ease of someone familiar with rough landscapes.

And Sina, the young woman from the royal household, looked around with visible sorrow at the sight of the ruined farmland.

For hours, they rode through land that should have been lush fields, full of crops. Instead, the ground was a mosaic of fractured clay, dry and broken, covered in a layer of dust.

The riverbeds that usually carried melted snow and winter rain were empty, little more than deep cracks winding through the land. Thorny bushes stood stiff and dry, their brittle branches snapping with the slightest touch.

Farmers stood silently outside their homes, their faces tired and full of despair. The crops they had planted in autumn had barely sprouted before dying, unable to survive the combined attack of drought and blight.

Even the air felt wrong, devoid of the usual rich scent of damp earth, only the bitter smell of dust and slow decay.

Reyes dismounted from his horse near a patch of dying land, his boots crunching on the dry soil. He crouched, scooping a handful of dirt, letting it fall between his fingers like ashes.

"The water reserves are dangerously low, Princess," he said, his voice rough. "What little water remains must be rationed for the capital and critical military outposts. The outlying villages... they face a brutal choice between thirst and starvation."

Viana looked out over the barren land, her expression hard and determined. The drought had strengthened the blight’s damage, making it impossible for anything to grow.

"We will divert more rivers if possible," she commanded, her voice cutting through the wind. "And speed up the delivery of emergency food supplies. No one goes hungry. Not while Elysia still stands."

Joel stood beside Viana, pointed towards a distant cluster of lifeless trees in the distance.

"The blight spreads quietly, Princess," he said. "The soil... it feels completely dead. Not merely dry. There’s a difference."

Reyes, hand resting on his sword, kept scanning the horizon. "The people remain calm for now. They still trust the king. But hope, like water, is running low."

Sina, usually bright and cheerful, kept her gaze on the suffering lands, her voice barely a whisper. "The children... they don’t understand why the wells are dry, why the fields won’t grow food. They only know hunger."

Viana’s hands tightened into fists. Their words weighed heavily on her. The blight was more than just a sickness; it was stripping life from the kingdom, leaving behind nothing but silence and dust.

They kept riding, their horses’ steps echoing in the eerie quiet. The land was fading before their eyes—fields that should have been green were brown and brittle, the rivers nothing but dried-out cracks. The few birds that still lingered let out lonely, mournful cries, as if sensing the slow death of the land.

***

By late afternoon, Viana and her group returned to the palace. The journey had left them exhausted, not just from the long ride but from the grim reality they had witnessed.

As they dismounted in the courtyard, the usual palace noise, the shouts of stable hands, the movements of guards, felt dull and distant. The image of the dying land lingered in their minds.

Then, from a side entrance rarely used, a figure stepped into the fading winter light.

It was Rissa.

She looked as Viana remembered: slender, dressed in a simple dark tunic, her unbound hair a tangled mess, and her face smudged with the tell-tale soot and streaks of strange-colored powders, vibrant pigments.

But there was something new in her sharp grey eyes, usually inward-looking, now held an urgent, almost desperation. She moved with an uncharacteristic swiftness, ignoring the palace guards, her gaze fixed solely on the Princess.

"Princess Viana!" Rissa’s voice cut through the courtyard. "I need to speak with you. Immediately."

Viana, despite her exhaustion, felt a new surge of energy. Rissa rarely left her lab, and let alone spoke with such direct urgency. She turned to her, dismissing the others with a brief nod, leaving Joel, Reyes, and Sina to exchange surprised glances.

"Of course, Rissa," Viana replied, stepping towards her. "What is it?"

Rissa’s stained and calloused hands curled into fists nervously. "My experiments... the soil samples. I’ve found something. A possible counter-agent. But I need one last thing. A very specific plant."

She paused, catching her breath. "Either the root, petal, or leaf. Without it, the reagent will not bind correctly. It’s the final piece."

Her words tumbled out, precise and scientific, a direct contrast to her disheveled appearance.

"A plant?" Viana echoed, surprised. "What kind of plant? Where can we find it?"

"It’s extremely rare," Rissa said, her gaze locked on Viana. "It grows in dry, rocky soil where nothing else can survive. It only thrives in places without water, under the burning sun. Rain kills it instantly."

She hesitated, then continued. "I saw it once, long ago, during my travels in the eastern desert plateaus. I called it the ’Desert’s Embrace.’"

Viana felt a sudden jolt, a faint memory from her past life.

The Desert’s Embrace. The name. The description.

She had heard of it before. A plant blooming in the most arid places with golden, translucent petals that seemed to absorb the very light, its tiny but powerful roots buried deep into the cracked earth.

It had been mentioned in her past life, a fleeting hope, dismissed as impossible to find. But now...

"Take me to your laboratory, Rissa," Viana commanded, her voice steady with growing determination. "Show me what you are doing. Show me why this plant is so important."