Jasmine blinked hard, her chest still rising and falling in shallow breaths. Slowly, her surroundings came into focus: the soft drape of her silk curtains, the faint light filtering through them, painting the room in pale gold.
"Is it… Morning already?" she murmured. But that couldn't be right. She had just fallen asleep.
And yet, she felt tired, bone-deep, soul-heavy tired, as if she hadn't slept in days.
How odd.
A dull throb pulsed behind her temples. The vertigo from the dream still clung to her like a cloud of smoke, refusing to lift. Her body felt heavy, weak. Even raising her arm took effort. The pounding in her head made her wince.
Something wasn't right.
A soft knock came at the door.
"Come in," Jasmine managed weakly.
Lilian, her handmaid, entered with quiet grace, bowing respectfully. But her composure faltered the moment her eyes fell on her mistress.
"My lady…" she breathed, worry clear in her voice. "Did you not sleep well?"
She stepped closer to the bed, her concern deepening as she took in Jasmine's pale skin, paler than usual, her feverish, sweat-damp face, the dark circles beneath her eyes, and her uneven breathing.
"You don't look well at all," Lilian said, frowning.
Jasmine only nodded faintly, falling back against her pillow, her hands trembling as she tried to steady herself.
Lilian's thoughts raced. She's sick… but why? Her lady had done nothing out of the ordinary that could have caused this sudden weakness.
"Please wait here, my lady," Lilian said softly. "I'll fetch the court healer, and inform His Majesty."
Jasmine didn't protest. She didn't have the strength to. Lilian hurried out, leaving her mistress alone once more.
Silence filled the room.
The dream still clung to Jasmine's mind like mist. William… he was here, in the castle. She had just seen him yesterday. Then what she saw, could it have been something that would happen? A vision of the future, perhaps? The thought sent a shiver through her.
Her thoughts were interrupted by another gentle knock. The door opened again, and Lilian returned, this time with the court healer in tow.
The woman was dressed in long grey robes, her short brown hair neat and practical. She looked to be in her mid-thirties, calm and composed, even as she approached the bed.
"Good morning, Your Highness," the healer said, bowing her head respectfully. "If you'll allow me…"
Jasmine nodded weakly, and the healer began her examination. The symptoms were plain to see: fever, sweating, trembling, and vertigo. The healer asked a few gentle questions as she worked, her tone polite but focused.
"Have you done any intense training lately, Your Highness?"
"No…" Jasmine whispered."Used too much mana, perhaps?" Again, a weak shake of her head.
The healer frowned slightly but said nothing for a while. Then she placed her hand lightly on Jasmine's plenum, through the sheets. A faint green light pulsed from her palm.
After several seconds, the glow faded, and she withdrew her hand with a thoughtful expression.
"It's just as I suspected," she said softly. "Her Highness is suffering from severe mana exhaustion."
Jasmine's eyes widened faintly. "Mana exhaustion? But I haven't used my mana recently." She was well aware of the causes of mana exhaustion.
The healer gave a small, grim nod. "Strange. Whatever the cause may be… right now, Your Highness has no mana left in her body at all."
The healer sighed softly and straightened. "In any case, a few days of rest should do the trick," she said. "You must stay in bed during that time, Your Highness, and avoid using any magic or mana at all. If you do, you could worsen your condition."
She reached into the pouch at her waist and drew out a small, faintly glowing stone. "Here. A mana stone. It should help ease the pain, but it's only a temporary measure. The best recovery will come naturally, let your body absorb mana at its own pace, and rest."
Jasmine nodded weakly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I understand."
Lilian thanked the healer and escorted her out, closing the door softly behind them. The room fell into silence once more, broken only by Jasmine's uneven breathing.
She turned the mana stone over in her palm, its gentle light pulsing against her skin. For a long moment, she simply stared at it, then closed her eyes.
She willed the mana within it to flow into her. A steady stream of warmth trickled through her fingers, spreading up her arm and through her body.
But the relief was fleeting.
It felt like pouring a cup of water into an ocean; the mana vanished almost instantly, swallowed by the emptiness inside her. Within seconds, the stone's light faded completely, its surface turning dull and lifeless in her hand.
Jasmine exhaled shakily. Her body still felt hollow. She stared at the dull stone in her hand, her thoughts turning inward.
Could this be because of the dream? She wondered. Or… the vision? She wasn't sure what to call it anymore.
The more she thought about it, the more certain she became that it was connected. Her mind drifted to the strange ability she had awakened only a few weeks ago — the gift of foresight. Perhaps this was an extension of that gift, showing her glimpses of what was yet to come… but now, through dreams.
Curious, she thought faintly. If that's true, then what I saw wasn't just a dream. It was the future. Or at least… a future that could happen.
The word could lingered in her mind. The future wasn't set in stone, she knew that. But how much of it could she truly change?
And another question pressed quietly at the back of her mind. Where are these abilities coming from?
Not that she was complaining. But still… it was strange.
Her thoughts grew heavy, blurring at the edges. Her body ached with exhaustion, her eyelids drooping despite her efforts to stay awake.
Before long, she drifted back into sleep, weary, uncertain, and far from peace.
...
The scene shifted to the grand halls of the imperial palace.
Lilian walked briskly through the corridors, her expression tight with concern. The guards bowed as she passed, recognizing the handmaid of the youngest princess. She stopped before the towering double doors of the emperor's study and knocked softly.
"Enter," came the calm, deep voice from within.
Lilian stepped inside and bowed low. "Your Majesty."
Emperor Elowen looked up from the documents spread across his desk, his silver eyes sharp even in the dim light. "Lilian. What brings you here at this hour?"
"My lord," she began carefully, "it's about Her Highness, Princess Jasmine."
He set his quill aside. "Go on."
"She… she's unwell," Lilian said, her voice heavy with worry. "The court healer examined her just moments ago. She found that Her Highness is suffering from severe mana exhaustion."
Elowen's brows furrowed slightly. "Mana exhaustion?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. But Her Highness denied using any magic or overexerting herself. And I can confirm that she hasn't," Lilian continued. "I'm with her most of the time — she hasn't practiced or trained recently. She was perfectly fine when she went to sleep last night."
The emperor was silent for a moment, his gaze distant.
"I see," he said at last. "You did well to inform me. You may return to her side."
Lilian bowed once more. "Yes, Your Majesty."
When the door closed behind her, the study fell quiet again.
Emperor Elowen leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. Unlike what most believed, he did not simply leave his children to their own devices. He knew their habits, their strengths, their ambitions — and none more closely than Jasmine's.
In truth, he had kept a careful eye on her for years. Perhaps more than anyone realized. That was why he had appointed Lilian, his own former personal servant, to watch over her.
So to hear that Jasmine had suddenly fallen ill unsettled him deeply.
He frowned, tapping his fingers against the armrest of his chair. "Mana exhaustion… and yet she claims not to have used any."
For a long moment, he stared at the window, the faint light of dawn spilling across his desk. Then he stood.
"I'll visit her later," he murmured to himself. "Perhaps I'll see something the healer could not."
After all, he was not merely an emperor; he was an archmage.
...
Lilian returned to Jasmine's chambers carrying a tray of warm food, hoping it might help her lady regain some strength. But as soon as she entered, she found Jasmine fast asleep, her breathing soft but uneven, her face pale as snow.
A flicker of worry crossed Lilian's face. She set the tray carefully on the bedside table and decided not to wake her.
Quietly, she began tidying the room, straightening the sheets, dusting the wide bookshelf filled with countless tomes, and wiping down the ornate decorations that lined the walls. It didn't take her long; Jasmine's chambers were modest compared to those of her siblings.
Lilian herself was every bit the image of a proper handmaid, long, dirty-blonde hair neatly tied in a bun, her black-and-white uniform crisp and spotless, knee-high socks and polished shoes gleaming faintly in the soft light. She was diligent, disciplined, and precise in everything she did, the perfect servant in every sense of the word.
Once she was done, she sat down quietly beside the bed. Of course, she would not leave Jasmine's side while she slept, except to fetch whatever her lady might need.
Unlike the rest of her family, Jasmine kept only one attendant, Lilian. She never asked for more.
Lilian smiled faintly, recalling Jasmine's words from some time ago: "The fewer people around me disturbing my peace and contaminating the air I breathe, the better."
It had made Lilian laugh back then, though she'd understood what her lady meant. Jasmine preferred solitude and silence above all else. She asked for nothing, save for her books.
She was unlike anyone else in the palace. Brilliant, introspective, and impossibly gifted.
Even among her family, a lineage of prodigies, Jasmine stood apart.
Lilian's gaze softened as she watched the girl sleep. She knew better than most what Jasmine was capable of. She herself was a master-level mage, a valuable asset to the empire, and once the emperor's own personal maid. So when His Majesty reassigned her to care for his newborn daughter all those years ago, she had been puzzled.
But now, she understood.
Jasmine was special.
At only twelve years old, she had already broken through to the rank of senior mage, just one stage below Lilian herself.
It was an achievement unheard of. Extraordinary.
And yet, as Lilian looked at her pale face and trembling hands, a pang of unease stirred in her chest. Power like that… always came with a price.