Silver can't remember what happened next but she woke up being surrounded by strangers once again. A routine she knew so well.
"Your Majesty, I must be perfectly clear."
The Imperial Physician, a man whose beard deserved its own seat at the council table, cleared his throat. His long white beard was braided into loops, as if he wanted to look like an ominous tapestry. It bobbed whenever he spoke.
"Your body will shut down whenever you push it beyond its threshold," the physician stated, eyes narrowed over the rims of his spectacles.
"It is a… defense mechanism. Not unlike a turtle withdrawing into its shell. Stress, excessive movement, emotional strain—any of these may cause your organs to… well, forcefully rest themselves."
Silver's brows furrowed.
"Forcefully rest?" she repeated, deadpan.
"That sounds like the world's worst euphemism for dying."
The old man didn't even crack a smile. Silver sighed and leaned back against the mound of pillows in her bed. She's aware she's terminally ill but she never thought she could be that fragile.
"Let me translate what you're saying, Doc. If I walk more than a few flights of stairs, get dumped by a boyfriend, or try to do Zumba, my body would hit the snooze button whether I like it or not?"
The old man's head tilted. He looked at the two maids standing beside Silver trying to understand the unfamiliar words she just spat, Mila and Natasha only raised their shoulders, the old man's attention turned back to me.
"Precisely."
Lovely. She wasn't just fragile — She was a walking Windows Vista, shutting down randomly whenever the CPU overheated. Silver can't help but feel defeated. She just wanted to survive but even in her second life her abilities was nerfed. Isn't it too unfair for her?
She perked up when the physician scribbled notes into his leather-bound tome, treating as if her sarcasm might one day be used as a useful diagnostic.
"You must avoid strenuous activity. Mental duress may also trigger these episodes. I strongly advise remaining within your chambers or limiting your exertions."
"Fantastic," Silver muttered. "You're telling me my body comes with a built-in off switch. Just great."
He closed his tome with a heavy snap, bowed, and left Silver staring at the canopy overhead.
The first thing Silver did when everyone left the room was groan into a pillow channeling all the pent up frustration.
So… She can't run, can't fight, can't stress, can't… exist, basically.
Natasha, bless her, hovered like a nervous hummingbird as soon as she returned seeing her frustrated.
"Your Majesty, please don't be reckless. The physician was very clear—"
"Yeah, yeah, no stressing for me," Silver stated, waving her off.
If the timing couldn't be more bad, she just planned on leaving the palace to go search for the Duke. She tried remembering snippets from the novel but some details kept of blurring in her mind.
But one thing is for sure, her father being possessed is not just a coincidence. He was after all currently, the strongest person alive.
Making sure those two men survive is one of her biggest card for her survival. If she can't lure the Duke to the capital using a marriage proposal then she can just look for him in his own territory and create a chance encounter.
"I'm gonna play the long game." she muttered.
If she can remember it right, the Duke is too wary of the noble. It almost as if he despises their mere existence. But why?
"Natasha? Do you know any rumors of why the Duke hated the nobles?"
Natasha paused and thought for a moment, gently tapping her fingers on her chin.
"I think it's because he used to be a commoner? Honestly, there's not much information about him, Your Majesty. He just suddenly appeared wiped out the North's strongest monster and awarded the Dukedom."
Tsk. Why is that man so mysterious? Even in the book there's not much of information about him either. He just appeared out of nowhere and saved the kingdom.
Silver wasn't even sure if safe if the right words to use because in the story, it was said that after returning triumphantly at the battle against the Emperor, he ordered to wipe out all the nobles in Four Territories.
If she was dealing with that kind of monster, she needed more than just to marry him. She need him to be head over heals in love with her. That way, she can make him do whatever she want.
But with her fragile body, the things she can do it very limited.
"I guess, sitting in this palace waiting for death isn't on my to-do list. I need to test my limits."
By doing so, she know how far ahead she had to plan.
"Test—Your Majesty?!"
But Natasha reacted slowly, Silver was already swinging her legs off the bed. The marble floor was cold, grounding. Her legs trembled, sure, but they held. It is a fact that she just lose consciousness a few moments ago, so her concern was understandable.
She straightened, exhaling as if she just completed an Olympic feat.
"See? Totally fine," she proudly stated.
Natasha looked at her unconvinced.
"You're not proving something, Your Majesty?" She was more like a mother now than a maid. Silver swallowed and crossed her arms proudly.
"That I'm not that fragile!"
"I need to know how much this stupid body can handle. If I'm going to survive, I can't just collapse every time I feel stressed. What if I'm running from assassins? Or—oh, I don't know—escaping to the Northern Territories to avoid becoming a tragic footnote in imperial history?"
Natasha froze. "Escaping?"
Oops. Did she just said that out loud? It kept on slipping her mind.
"I mean, hypothetically. As a fun little daydream. Definitely not serious at all." she retorted.
The frown that formed of Natasha's brows said she didn't buy it. But she didn't argue either. It was the perks of having power. You can do everything questionable but none would dare question you.
She started small. A walk across the room. Nothing dramatic, just pacing between the window, the bedpost, and the veranda like an anxious cat. Her breath hitched on the fifth lap, but she kept going.
Natasha's faced can't be painted watching the young miss do exactly the opposite of what the physician told her to. The time she started wheezing and acting out of breath, she finally had enough.
"Your Majesty, If you didn't go back to bed. I'm gonna tell the Emperor about this!" Natasha threatened. Silver looked at her, thought for a second until she realized she can't afford to be caught in the Emperor's radar.
"Okay, fine," she panted. "Maybe cardio isn't my strong suit."
The next day, she tried mental stress tests. She dug up palace reports, tax ledgers, and military rosters—basically the equivalent of forcing herself to do her old office job, but with more politics and fewer coffee breaks. Ten minutes in, She already felt the pressure building behind her eyes. Fifteen minutes, and her pulse quickened. At twenty, she blacked out for exactly thirty seconds before waking up with Natasha dabbing her forehead with a damp cloth.
"Congratulations," she croaked. "I've scientifically proven that paperwork is lethal."
Natasha just looked at her flatly. The bags in her eyes is a reflection of her pent up stress.
But that wasn't enough to make Silver stop.
Every day she started a little experiment:
Day 3: Tried lifting a chair. Collapsed. Natasha cried. Chair remained unimpressed. (Also, proved that the chairs in that world are made of metal and not light at all.)
Day 4: Tried sneaking down the hallway for midnight snacks. Made it to the kitchens, then passed out face-first in a basket of onions. The servants are still gossiping about "Her Majesty's tears."
Day 5: Tried meditation to calm her stress triggers. Accidentally fell asleep for four hours. Woke up drooling in front of a very concerned maid.
At the sixth day, she was too frustrated that she decided to walk in the garden to get some fresh air.
By the end of the week, she was exhausted, frustrated, and no closer to feeling like she could actually survive on her own. She realized that her body was a betrayal wrapped in silk. And that she's been seeing the Imperial Physician more than her own father.
Sitting at the chair reading a book she realized, she actually missed her father a little.
"Natasha! Fetch me my shawl, I want to visit my Father,"