Chapter 429
“What do you mean?” The old woman glared and shoved the pottery jar into the doorman’s hands. “When my grandson got smallpox, it was the Princess Consort who had medicine sent over. Last winter, when the snow was heavy, it was the manor that opened its granaries to release grain. Now that the Princess Consort has suffered so much, how can we not give something to show our appreciation?”
The crowd immediately echoed her, and the clamorous voices alarmed the manor.
When Alexandra, draped in a cloak, walked to the gate, she saw the doorman surrounded by a group of people, his face red and neck thick as he tried to explain.
The bleating of goats mixed with the children’s laughter, turning the solemn front of the manor into a marketplace.
As soon as Alexandra came out, the people looked at her with awe. They had not forgotten that Alexandra was a woman, but she wielded a spear with unmatched skill. Her valiant, enemy-killing figure was deeply rooted in the hearts of the people.
“Quiet down,” she said. Though her voice was soft, it held an undeniable air of authority. The people immediately fell silent and turned to look at Alexandra.
Alexandra gazed at the mountain of food, from eggs to live poultry. There was even a child holding a piece of malt sugar wrapped in red cloth. She recalled how, when Arthur was still alive, the Xander Manor often helped the people. At that time, Xander always said, “The support of the people is the best armor.” Now it seemed that he was right.
Alexandra turned to the gatekeeper and said, “Move everything to the back kitchen.”
The gatekeeper was stunned. “Alexandra, this…”
“Just move it,” Alexandra said with a smile. Her eyes swept over the people in front of the gate. “The manor has accepted everyone’s good intentions. The weather is nice today, so have the kitchen prepare more food and set it out under the crabapple trees in the manor so we can all have a good time.”
The people were stunned for a moment, looking at Alexandra in disbelief. Someone carefully asked, “Alexandra, do you mean that we can also enter the manor to eat?”
“Why, do you look down on our chef?” Alexandra asked back, pretending to be angry.
“No, how dare we.” That person was so happy that he didn’t know what to say. “I just didn’t expect that I would have the opportunity to enter the manor for dinner in this lifetime.”
“Yes, I used to be afraid to pass by the gate of the manor, for fear of dirtying the ground of the manor,” the old woman said with a smile.
Alexandra cleared her throat. “If you can’t finish eating so many things you sent, wouldn’t it be a waste? Naturally, you should eat what you sent.”
The people were stunned at first, and then burst into earth-shattering cheers. The old woman took her grandson’s hand, her face full of wrinkles, stretched out with a smile. “Alexandra is so thoughtful.”
The peddler was busy directing people to carry apples, and the mason carried the bag and ran to the back kitchen; even the two goats seemed to understand, bleating and walking inside.
The kitchen was suddenly busy. The cooks discussed the recipes around the pile of fresh ingredients. A rich soup was made with the live chickens given by the people. Even the two goats were skillfully cleaned and placed on the charcoal fire to roast until they sizzled with oil, and the aroma wafted down half the street.
When Athena was drawn to the kitchen by the aroma, she saw Alexandra personally handing a handkerchief to the old woman. The old lady had just helped shell a basket of beans, and her hands were covered with green juice from the pods. She smiled from ear to ear when she took the handkerchief. “Alexandra’s craftsmanship is excellent. The crabapple blossoms embroidered on this handkerchief are as beautiful as the real flowers in the manor.”
“If you like it, I’ll give it to you.” Alexandra patted her hand, turned her head, and saw Athena, her eyes lit up. She hurriedly beckoned to Athena. “Come and taste this chicken soup. It’s made from the old hen raised by the old woman herself, and it has been simmered for three hours.”
Athena had just taken the soup bowl when the peddler’s son grabbed the corner of her clothes. The little tiger-headed boy held up a piece of maltose, raising his small face. “Princess Consort, eat this; it’s sweeter than rock candy.”
Xander came at some point. He gently put his arm around Athena’s waist from behind, his eyes fell on the chicken soup in her bowl. “Drink slowly, be careful it’s hot.” He looked at the busy people in the yard and then at the smile lines around Alexandra’s eyes. Suddenly, he felt that this belated reunion was warmer than any celebration banquet.
The midday sun shone through the branches and leaves of the tree, casting dappled shadows on the ground. The long table was filled with steaming dishes, and the people and those from the manor sat together, talking and laughing. The old woman gave Athena a piece of roast mutton, while Xander peeled shrimp shells for Alexandra. The peddler’s daughter pestered Natasha to teach her how to wield a gun, and her silvery laughter startled the sparrows on the branches. Nelson walked to the stone lion with a wine bowl in his hand, and suddenly his eyes felt hot as he looked at the two goats tied under the tree. He had guarded this place for thirty years, seen the Xander Manor at its peak, and also seen its most difficult moments.
Never until that moment had he understood so clearly: home and country were nothing more than someone willing to guard the city for him, and someone willing to bring him a bowl of hot soup.
Half a month later, Arthur’s condition worsened. Athena waddled back and forth between the palace and the Xander Manor. The smell of medicine in the Heaven Hall was so strong that it could not be dissolved. Arthur lay on the bed, his breathing weak. His originally neatly combed silver hair was now messily plastered to his cheeks. The protruding cheekbones made Arthur’s majestic face look particularly haggard. After the imperial physician finished taking Arthur’s pulse, he repeatedly shook his head at Evander.
Arthur was terminally ill and had not much time left. He had been able to hold on until now, thanks to Athena’s medical skills. Athena stepped lightly into the hall. Because she was carrying twins, her five-month pregnancy was obviously larger than that of ordinary women. She held her waist and asked softly, “Is His Majesty feeling better today?”
Evander turned around, his eyes filled with red blood. He shook his head at Athena, looking exhausted. “He coughed half the night again, and didn’t eat or drink anything.” He looked at Athena’s slightly bulging belly, his brows furrowing even tighter, “Pregnancy is hard enough— how can you endure the jolts of the road?”
“I’m fine.” Athena walked to the side of the couch and sat down, her fingertips gently touching Arthur’s wrist. The pulse was so weak that it was almost imperceptible. She lowered her eyes and said to Evander, “Have the palace prepare.”
Arthur was now delirious, and it seemed he had only two days left. Evander’s eyes were even redder, he nodded gently, and asked the Ministry of Rites to prepare for the funeral. The Core Palace concubines were all crying their eyes out outside the hall.
Arthur opened his turbid eyes, looking at the top of his head without focusing, “Who is it? Who’s here?” His voice was rough and difficult to distinguish, and he couldn’t even see clearly. Thanatus stepped forward and said loudly in his ear, “Princess Consort is here.”
“Oh.” Arthur’s voice was so soft it was almost inaudible. Arthur’s eyelids fluttered, and he struggled to open them a crack. He tried to look at Athena’s face, and his withered hand suddenly moved. Athena immediately grasped the cold hand.
“Athena…” His voice was as thin as a gossamer thread, “It’s been hard on you.”
Athena’s eyes grew hot, but she forced a smile and said, “Your Majesty, please take good care of yourself. When you get better, you still need to see the little heir.”
These words seemed to give Arthur strength. His fingers tightened slightly, and a glimmer of light flashed in his turbid eyes. “Good.”
Chapter 430