chapter 17 she is not your daughter!

"If we are strong, our strength will speak for itself. If we are weak, words will be of no help." - John F. Kennedy

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The shade swiftly deflected the knife, sending it back towards its origin. Although the assailant managed to guard himself and catch the blade, the radiance emitted by the crystal promptly diminished, and Arẹwa crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Amidst the tension, the royal physician hurried into the room, accompanied by maids who assisted him. "She's alive," he announced, prompting a collective sigh of relief. Without delay, he and the maids carefully carried Arẹwa away for treatment.

Meanwhile, the captured assassin was presented before the king. The king's voice resonated with authority, "Remove his face cover!"

"Who sent you?" The prophetess's resolve was palpable. The atmosphere inside the palace shifted perceptibly, except for the archduke, who appeared rather satisfied.

The assassin, however, remained resolutely silent in response to the king's inquiry.

"I will personally interrogate him. By showing him the lifeless bodies of his own family, he will confess," declared the general in a menacing tone, aiming to break the assassin's will. The assassin looked visibly perturbed by the general's threat, but still, he clung to his silence.

"Take him away," commanded the general, and the guards led the assassin out of the room.

The prophetess, undeterred, continued to address the king, her voice unwavering, "Your Majesty, my loyalty and that of my family are without question. I was forced to witness my daughter's near-death experience without revealing my true emotions. I believe the perpetrator was a mere pawn, sent by another with ulterior motives. Thus, I implore you to hand over the criminal to the Sword of the Silver Throne for interrogation on our terms, my king." Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, but she maintained her composure.

"This is no longer a purely personal matter," the head of the market interjected, her voice carrying weight.

"The mother of the market does not possess the authority to speak on behalf of the king," retorted the head of the Ida's clan, his tone sharp with irritation.

"The Ida's clan shall conduct a thorough investigation of the assassin and present their findings to the palace. The prophetess may choose the location for her daughter's treatment. None of the royal subjects or council members shall be allowed to leave the city until the investigation concludes. You have four days," the king decreed.

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At the imperial hospital, ifafunto tenderly cradled the adorable baby girl. "Dayinsi is on official duty at the Ida's clan residence. I will be joining him," ifafunto informed Sewa.

"Why can't I join him? I've already served there once," Sewa inquired.

"This situation is quite serious. They may not grant you access due to heightened security, particularly since you haven't been formally recognized as an imperial health practitioner," ifafunto clarified.

"Alright," Sewa acquiesced.

"Take care," ifafunto bid before departing.

Shortly thereafter, the fifth prince entered the room. Sewa was engrossed in arranging some herbs. The little girl rushed towards the fifth prince, gleefully exclaiming, "Handsome papa!" before embracing him with fervor.

"Oh, my beautiful daughter," the prince responded warmly as he embraced her.

"Wait, dear, you can't just call everyone 'father'," Sewa intervened, attempting to take her from the prince's arms. It was then that she recognized the man before her was none other than the fifth prince.

"Olaitan!" Sewa called out her daughter's name, promptly reclaiming her from the prince's hold and hugging her tightly.

The fifth prince's astonishment was palpable. "Whose daughter is she?" he inquired, clearly taken aback.

Sewa's heart raced, and fear crept into her voice as she stammered, "She is not yours." Tears welled up in her eyes, her apprehension evident. The fifth prince held onto her firmly, preventing her from leaving.

"Tell me now! Is she my daughter?" he demanded, his tone insistent.

"You must be mad... You aren't the father," Sewa retorted, her voice quivering as she struggled to break free. The little girl, sensing the tension, began to cry, and the prince finally released his grip on Sewa.