Chapter 8
Renern set down his teacup, intending to rise from his seat. Of course, it was possible that Minachelty’s illness was genuine, but he wasn’t the type to waste time verifying it.
“I see… Is her condition quite serious?”
“Yes, she suddenly developed a fever this morning…”
Baron Sestol began muttering explanations of the situation.
At that moment, a knock sounded at the door.
“What is it?”
Baroness Sestol rose from her seat and, shielding the narrow crack of the door with her body, asked cautiously about the matter. Her movements were careful, as if trying to conceal a secret.
Renern’s ears pricked at the sound.
“Madam, the doctor has arrived.”
“Called… when exactly? My goodness. He should have come sooner.”
Unintentionally, Renern turned his head to glance at Baroness Sestol.
Doctor?
She closed the door and returned with a slightly displeased expression.
“I’m sorry. I sent for the doctor this morning, but he only just arrived.”
So she really is sick…?
The same girl who had talked about punching a bear with her fists? Renern recalled the sensation of her bony shoulders when he had embraced her.
“Is she very ill?”
“It’s just the flu. She’ll recover quickly with medication, so there’s no need to worry.”
Baroness Sestol laid a hand on one cheek, seemingly trying to downplay Minachelty’s condition. It was as if she wanted to assert that her daughter was in no way impaired.
Renern reconsidered. Perhaps it was best to delay sending the legal complaint to them.
“I’m still concerned. She was genuinely startled yesterday. Being present and failing to properly protect her fills me with guilt.”
“Oh, you needn’t worry so much…”
“I would like to pay her a brief visit.”
“Since you put it that way, I suppose there’s no choice.”
Baroness Sestol exhaled a small sigh, pretending to resist, though her delight was obvious.
Renern followed her upstairs, waiting in the hallway briefly as the doctor examined Minachelty.
“It’s a simple flu. She has a slight fever, so I’ll give her some antipyretics before leaving.”
“That’s all?”
“Eh? Y-Yes…”
The doctor tilted his head, confused as if wondering what the problem was.
Baroness Sestol opened her mouth as if to complain, then quickly closed it, realizing a guest was present.
Well, if you wait three hours only for a ten-minute consultation, anyone would grumble.
After all, anyone would feel annoyed having to send a carriage, pay the doctor, and endure the effort for just an antipyretic. Of course, it was of no concern to him.
“Minity, Sir Kirhoff has come to visit you.”
Entering the room behind Baroness Sestol, a wave of warm, stuffy air greeted him. Even though it was slightly early in the season for a fire, logs burned in the fireplace. A small kettle boiled, puffing white smoke, and all the windows were tightly closed.
“Please, converse with him.”
Baroness Sestol deftly stepped aside, leaving the room. The sound of the door closing reached Renern.
He turned his stiff neck slightly, then fixed his gaze on Minachelty, who was reclining diagonally on the bed. A yellow canary perched lightly on her palm.
“Are you feeling ill?”
“Can’t you tell by looking?”
Her reply was defiantly sharp. At the same time, the canary pecked at the back of her hand.
“Ouch!”
Minachelty complained to the bird, which chirped back at her as if scolding her.
She fights over everything, doesn’t she?
A corner of Renern’s mouth twitched. Even in her muffled voice, there was a sharpness that, oddly, lifted his mood like a child’s playfulness.
“I thought you were faking it.”
“You judge me with such a narrow perspective, Your Excellency.”
“Is that so? My apologies.”
Renern offered a light apology. Minachelty’s face scrunched further. Judging by her pale complexion, it seemed her illness was no lie. The warm room, the basin, and white cloth left on the empty chair all attested to her condition.
Still, he felt a curious desire to confirm it for himself.
“I thought someone claiming they could punch bears must be quite healthy.”
“Did you come here to start trouble?”
Minachelty pouted her lips in protest. Renern shrugged and smirked.
“In that case, may I verify whether you are truly unwell?”
“And if I refuse?”
“I’ll send the legal complaint I prepared as soon as I return.”
“You came here to threaten me, didn’t you?”
Minachelty’s eyes narrowed.
“It will only take a moment.”
Renern stepped forward. As he approached, Minachelty’s neck recoiled slightly. Her light brown eyes quivered delicately, like milk tea steeped too strong with cream.
Renern reached toward her tousled forehead. Her round forehead was smaller than his palm.
It’s really hot.
As if to prove her innocence, her palm was moist and hot. Renern’s eyes rolled to meet hers. She stiffened her shoulders, her gaze flitting restlessly. Strands of damp hair clung to her slender neck, and the muscles of her neck were pronounced.
“Seems she’s not lying.”
Renern withdrew his hand and slipped it into his pocket, still feeling the residual warmth from her palm.
“You appear unwell, so I’ll leave it at that for today. We can discuss the rest another time.”
“Why do you keep leaving me out of the conversation?”
“Then shall we do it now? You won’t get much rest otherwise.”
“Fine, just say what you came for. You didn’t have to come all this way to bother me.”
“Are you concerned for my inconvenience, or are you just complaining that I’m bothersome?”
“Which do you think?”
“I’d say the former.”
“Ridiculous.”
Amused by his audacity, Minachelty let out a dry laugh. Her slightly parted lips drew his attention. Despite being dry from illness, her expressive features were amusing.
“I’ve thought about it,” she said.
“About what?”
Her eyes sharpened.
“How to exploit and harass this fool?”
“Don’t get so defiant.”
“…….”
He furrowed his brow, and she immediately shut her mouth, casting a cautious glance. Her pout remained, but she seemed to have stopped cutting off his words.
“I’ve grown somewhat interested in your magic. I have a proposal. If you accept it, we’ll pretend yesterday never happened.”
Her head snapped up at his words, eyes wide with surprise. Her gaze shimmered like stirring milk tea.
“What proposal?”
Her voice rose slightly, tinged with excitement.
Could the fever last through the night because she worried over how to come up with compensation?
Thinking so, he felt a slight twinge of sympathy. Though fiery in personality, her small frame might account for it.
“First, there’s one prerequisite.”
Minachelty’s face twisted again. She disliked how he continuously attached conditions while hiding the main point. Perhaps inwardly, she was scolding him for being tricky.
Judging by how compliant she seems, she must have assessed the situation.
Renern imagined her small, feverish head wrestling with reason and emotion, which made a reluctant smile tug at his lips.
“And what is it?”
“Join the Magus Tower.”
“Huh?”
Her face contorted and her voice pitched high, as if she wanted to grab him by the collar and demand an explanation.
“To freely wield magic, one requires the appropriate status. Also, it allows an objective evaluation of your abilities.”
Renern delivered his request plainly.
“If you succeed in joining the Magus Tower, we’ll make the proposal. It’s not a bad condition for you.”
“……”
Minachelty remained silent, but her raised eyes seemed to say, Go ahead, talk, you rascal.
“Understood?”
Renern smiled deliberately to tease her. As expected, a small wrinkle appeared between her brows. He resisted bursting into laughter and stepped a few paces away from the bed.
“Rest well. Take your medicine properly. Don’t run away.”
“Who’s running away?”
“Then, I’ll be off.”
His abrupt departure made Minachelty chuckle.
She really just wants to say something and be done with it.
Her murmur was followed by Canaria’s chirping, as if in agreement.
She raises a little creature just like herself.
The bird’s chirps reminded him oddly of her, and Renern couldn’t help smiling.
