I Became The Extra King With Seven Wives-Chapter 53: Fidena

"How is she faring?"

Queen Mother Eliana stood quietly inside a lavishly appointed chamber within the royal castle. It was the very suite that had been strictly reserved for Morgana ever since she was elevated to the status of a Queen.

In truth, these quarters had essentially belonged to Morgana since she was but a child. Because her father was perpetually consumed by his demanding duties as the Royal Guard Commander, and by King Marconius’s demand, Morgana was living there.

Morgana was currently asleep upon the grand bed, her breathing shallow as her broken right hand rested in thick white bandages all the way taking down her wrist, freshly treated with a potent medicinal ointment.

"She is resting, Your Majesty," Arges answered immediately, quickly rising from the wooden chair he had drawn close to his daughter’s bedside.

Eliana cast a sorrowful glance down at Morgana’s curled, bruised form.

She looked anything but fine.

Eliana had known Morgana since she was merely a babe, in truth, she had known her even before that, when Morgana was still growing safely within her mother’s womb.

During that exact same period, Eliana had been carrying Lumiel. It had been a season of pure joy for both her and her husband, the late King Marconius. They had been married for five long years without producing an heir, and Marconius had been under immense pressure from the court to take a second wife. While he possessed concubines, elevating a second woman to the rank of Queen was a great political maneuver, and the candidates constantly thrust upon him were fraught with dangerous ambitions.

Marconius, a man who privileged peace above all else, wished to avoid taking another wife, knowing full well it would inevitably spark bitter succession crises and internal strife. Furthermore, he knew that doing so would deeply wound Eliana, his beloved Queen, branding her in the eyes of the court as incapable of bearing him a rightful heir.

But by the grace of Helios, she had finally conceived, and the royal physicians confirmed it would be a son. In those golden days, she had shared that immense joy with Arges’s new wife, Fidena.

Eliana had known Fidena long before Arges ever crossed her path. Fidena was the daughter of a Viscount, and she and Eliana, the daughter of the neighboring Count Briancel had been the closest of friends since childhood.

They were much like sisters even then. It was together that they had first met both young Marconius and Arges during a diplomatic visit Marconius made to Eliana’s father.

In later years, they used to laugh together, admitting that they had both fallen completely in love with the two men at the exact same moment.

It had been a much simpler affair for Eliana, as Marconius had fallen for her at first sight. For Fidena, however, it had required considerably more effort to melt the heart of the muscle-headed, intensely loyal Arges. Yet, she had eventually succeeded. And scarcely a year after their marriage, Fidena found herself with child at the exact same time as Eliana.

They had both been so utterly overjoyed. Eliana would invite Fidena to the castle every single day, and they would spend hours recounting tales of their youth and dreaming of the bright futures awaiting their unborn children.

They both knew the genders of the baby they carried, and it was Fidena who insisted that her daughter must one day marry Lumiel. Eliana had always found the notion deeply amusing, though the idea of binding their families together was far from displeasing to her.

Tragically, just months later, while Eliana successfully delivered Lumiel, Fidena’s own labor proved fatal. She gave birth to a healthy daughter, but succumbed to the strain, passing away shortly after.

It was an heartbreaking loss for Eliana. That shared grief was precisely why she had been so overjoyed and in complete agreement when Marconius proposed bringing the young Morgana to live within the safety of the royal castle during her childhood.

Morgana may have inherited Arges’s scarlet hair and piercing scarlet eyes, but her delicate facial features were entirely Fidena’s. Aside from the fact that Morgana grew to be noticeably taller, she was the image of her late mother in every way, save, perhaps, for her explosive temper.

Fidena had certainly possessed a temper, but Morgana seemed to have inherited an even more explosive one. In truth, it could hardly be helped when she had grown up with a father like Arges.

Because of this history, Eliana harbored a soft spot for Morgana in her heart. In their youth, she had adored watching Morgana and Lumiel play together; it constantly reminded her of the dreams she and Fidena had shared. They had envisioned a day when they would stand side-by-side, overjoyed, watching their children marry once they came of age.

But reality had been far less kind than their dreams.

The children had been formally engaged, yes, but the bitter, fractured relationship that blossomed between them was nothing like the romance their mothers had so wished for.

"Arges... I deeply apologize for my son’s brutal behavior today... He never should have—"

"Your Majesty, such apologies are truly not necessary," Arges interrupted gently, shaking his head. He lowered himself back into the chair beside the bed, his large, calloused hand reaching out to softly stroke his daughter’s scarlet hair. "She accepted the terms of the duel, and she explicitly forbade anyone, including myself from intervening if the tide of battle turned against her."

"She did..." Eliana mumbled, her gaze sorrowful.

Arges gave a small nod.

"But Lumiel still should never have gone so far as to break her hand..." Eliana insisted.

"The physician assured me it will only take a couple of days to mend. She will be perfectly fine, Your Majesty," he replied calmly.

"I can immediately summon the finest Healers from the capital, Arges," Eliana offered.

Healers and Physicians were entirely distinct professions. A Healer utilized raw Essence to instantly mend the flesh, whereas a Physician relied on far more orthodox medical practices.

But Arges had already made his decision.

He shook his head.

"Fractures of this nature must be allowed to heal as naturally as possible. Artificial healing is detrimental to the development of a true swordsman," he said seriously.

Eliana offered a bitter, reluctant nod. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

She was actually quite familiar with the reason behind his reasoning. It had long been proven that while artificial healing via Essence was miraculously fast, it ultimately weakened the body’s innate constitution. Over time, relying too much on Essence caused the body’s natural healing processes to wither away entirely, rendering the patient dangerously dependent on magical intervention for even the smallest of wounds. Over the years, this dependency could completely ruin a warrior’s physical fortitude.

Because of this, Healers were strictly reserved for severe, life-threatening injuries, while traditional Physicians were employed to manage the rest.

"Arges... if you should require any assistance whatsoever..." Eliana trailed off.

"You truly do not need to feel so apologetic, Your Majesty," Arges replied, offering her a simple, reassuring smile.

"But I must!" Eliana insisted, her voice trembling slightly. "He is my son, and this concerns Fidena’s daughter," she added, biting her lower lip.

At the mere mention of his late wife’s name, Arges’s stoic expression visibly clouded.

"As a father, it is only natural that I feel anger over what happened. But I do not hold His Majesty solely accountable. This is the direct result of my own failure to properly raise my daughter, and my failure to teach her the limits of her own pride. It is my failure as a parent," he confessed softly.

"You are certainly not the only one," Eliana replied with a bitter sigh. "I feel as though I have failed as a parent just as deeply."

"I actually believe His Majesty is doing remarkably well for himself, Your Majesty," Arges noted, a quiet chuckle escaping him.

Arges still could not fully understand why Lumiel had abruptly stripped him of his title, nor could he entirely justify the sudden, chilling ruthlessness the young King had unleashed against Morgana. Yet, Arges possessed the keen, veteran eyes of a commander. When he looked at Lumiel on the training grounds today, he did not see a petty boy drunk on newfound power.

"I do not mean in his current capacity. I am, of course pleased to see my son step into his role as King so well," Eliana clarified, her gaze dropping to the floor in shame. "But I was so painfully absent... so completely inattentive to his suffering during his childhood."

When Lumiel had spoken of how stressful and horrific his childhood had been beneath the crushing burden of the court’s expectations and endless insults, the expression Eliana had seen cross his face, a brief, faltering smile was identical to the one he had worn years ago, right before he broke down crying into her arms. She simply could not bear to see him like that again.

"You were the Queen, Your Majesty, just as I was the Royal Commander. The demands of duty called us both," Arges offered gently, attempting to ease her burden.

"I still should have done better," Eliana whispered, regretfully.

Arges offered a bitter, knowing nod.

"As should I," he agreed. Carefully leaning over the bed, he gathered the sleeping Morgana into his arms, lifting her. "I will take her back to our home now. Have a peaceful night, Your Majesty."

Eliana offered a silent nod of farewell as Arges quietly carried his daughter from the room.

A royal carriage was immediately prepared at his request, swiftly carrying Arges and Morgana through the darkened streets of the capital back to their private mansion.

Upon arriving, he once again lifted the groggy, half-asleep Morgana into his arms. Carrying her up the grand staircase and into her personal bedroom, he laid her gently upon the mattress, carefully tucking the heavy silken sheets around her battered frame.

He turned, fully intending to leave her to rest, but suddenly felt the weak grip of Morgana’s fingers catching the fabric of his sleeve.

"Father..."

"How are you feeling, my little girl?" He asked softly, offering a warm, paternal smile in the dim light.

"I am so sorry..."

"What on earth are you sorry for, Morgana?" Arges asked, gently settling onto the edge of the mattress beside her as she stubbornly kept her back turned to him.

"I—I am sorry that I disappointed you..." She choked out, her lips trembling as her voice grew hoarse.

"You did not disappoint me, Morgana. You have never disappointed me," he reassured her, his large hand gently stroking her vibrant scarlet hair.

"N—No..." Morgana shook her head in denial.

Even with her face turned away, Arges could easily see the tears streaking down her cheeks, catching the faint moonlight from the window. She bit her lip so hard it nearly bled, entirely consumed by frustration and shame.

"I—I asked that duel, yet he beat me so easily... I only wanted to win back your title, and instead... I only ashamed you further in front of the entire court," she sobbed, her voice cracking painfully between each ragged breath.

"Morgana, it was only a title," Arges replied, smiling softly at her earnestness. "All that truly matters to me in this world is you, my strong and fierce daughter."

"I am not strong..."

She shook her head weakly.

"Lumiel... he beat me without even trying, and I was unable to do a single thing to stop him," she cried even harder, her unbroken hand clenching his sleeve with white-knuckled grip. "I... I hate him, Father. I hate him so much..."

Arges looked at Morgana crying.

It wasn’t just hatred.

She was heartbroken and beaten.

He did not argue. He merely continued to pat her head affectionately, carefully pulling the bedsheets higher around her shoulders to ward off the night’s chill.

"Just rest properly now. You must recover your strength entirely if you wish to attend the academy at Luminar in a few weeks’ time," he said gently.

Morgana offered only a small, exhausted nod against the pillow.

Arges finally stood, quietly walking out of the bedroom and pulling the door shut behind him with a soft click.

He slowly descended the grand staircase, his heavy boots making no sound against the carpeted steps. As he moved into the sprawling, darkened living room, his sharp gaze immediately locked onto a shadowy figure sitting comfortably upon one of the couches.

"What a truly heartfelt moment between father and daughter."

Suddenly, a brilliant flicker of golden-amber fire bloomed within the palm of the intruder’s hand, casting long, dancing shadows across the opulent room and fully illuminating the surroundings.

Arges stared at Lumiel, who was offering him a calm smile, sitting there his leg crossed as if he owned the place.