Chapter 5
✦
The residences of formally invested imperial princesses were located in the eastern annex palace.
The entrance to my quarters was engraved with beautiful patterns and a single silver bird in relief, which inspired its name: the Silver Bird Room.
The Silver Bird Room, the third most splendid in the annex palace, also served as a measure of my true standing as an imperial princess.
“Put him on the bed.”
The imperial guards who had supported him carried out my final order and withdrew.
As soon as the doors to my quarters were secured, my maids, as if finally releasing the breath they had been holding, began to speak one after another.
“Oh my, goodness. For Your Highness to bring a man into your bedchamber… this is a first.”
“What was bound to happen has simply happened, Miss Demia. Let’s not make such a fuss.”
The lively young girl with short brown hair was Demia.
The woman with short dark green hair, expressionless and composed like an adjutant, was Hamel.
Hearing the chatter of my loyal and precious maids, the tension that had built up from facing the Mad Emperor finally eased. It was the kind of relief one feels upon reaching a safe zone.
“But he’s practically dying. At this rate, I doubt he’ll be able to properly serve Your Highness.”
“Indeed, he’s not quite satisfactory. But if he suits Your Highness’s taste…”
I would have liked to let them chatter more, but it seemed I shouldn’t.
“Hamel, the court physician?”
“He will arrive shortly.”
“Demia, light incense with analgesic effects.”
“I already did.”
She must have taken care of it the moment I left the main palace audience hall. Through the information network spread throughout the imperial palace, they would have heard that I was bringing back a severely injured war prisoner.
I sat on the stool Hamel brought and looked down at him. The half of his face visible beneath the bandages was horribly contorted in pain.
It would have been better if he could at least groan properly, but even the sound of breathing from his parted lips was faint. It would not have been strange if the life he was barely clinging to slipped away at any moment.
“Your Highness, the court physician has arrived.”
A middle-aged man, his hair beginning to gray, frowned the moment he saw the patient and immediately drew the bed curtains—saying he could not allow something like that to offend my eyes.
The basin of clean water was stained red over and over again. The floor around the bed became filled with soiled bandages and empty potion bottles.
“How is he?”
“Grim.”
The physician opened the curtains again. The man I saw was no longer a filthy living corpse, but merely a clean one.
“It would be faster to list the parts that are intact. I’ve treated the internal injuries with medicine and set his bones. His eye was nearly beyond saving as well. With consistent treatment, he may recover. The problem is…”
“His mana core, I assume.”
“Yes, that is correct, Your Highness.”
Unlike flesh and bone, the mana core could not be treated with medicine or potions.
“For a knight, the mana core should reside in the right side of the chest. But his is completely shattered. For an ordinary person, it would be the same as having no heart at all—his life as a knight is effectively over.”
I responded indifferently.
“Then we’ll restore it.”
“Pardon? There is only one person who can repair a mana core—the Emperor himself, a god-like being of the great empire. Such grace is reserved for knights who have earned merit. There is no way a mere prisoner would receive it.”
That was one of the reasons so many who wield mana swore loyalty to the Mad Emperor—they had something to gain.
“Even thinking about it again, it’s truly unparalleled authority. Long live His Majesty the Emperor!”
His sudden flattery made me uncomfortable.
“Physician, speak properly.”
“Pardon?”
“It is not something only His Majesty can do. It is something only someone with power equal to His Majesty can do.”
“Th-that is true…”
I ignored the insolent look in his eyes that seemed to say, ‘But that’s not you, is it?’
More importantly, the fresh bandages were already being stained red again. The physician coughed awkwardly and glanced at me.
“I am ashamed to report that I could not treat the burns and lacerations.”
“Why not?”
“We have already used up all the potions allocated to Your Highness for this month…”
“You’ve done well. You may leave.”
“Y-yes, Your Highness!”
After dismissing him, I gave orders to my maids.
“We need to restore him quickly. Fill the bathtub with all the potions in my quarters.”
Demia gasped.
“You’ve been saving those for ten years! Each one is worth as much as a house in the outskirts!”
“You’re well informed about market prices, Demia. Fill it.”
“…Yes.”
A wheeled bathtub was brought beside the bed, and potion bottles taken from five cabinets were emptied one by one.
The most expensive bathwater in the world was created.
“Your Highness, you’re not going to use the highest-grade one, right? This one alone is worth a mansion…”
Demia clutched a particularly sparkling bottle to her chest. It was the only one—essentially an extra life for me.
At that moment, a faint groan came from the bed. He was struggling to lift his upper body.
“Eek! The corpse is getting up, Your Highness!”
“The physician may be a flatterer, but his skills seem adequate.”
Ignoring Demia and Hamel, I approached him.
I tried to gently push his shoulder to make him lie down again, but suddenly, my wrist was seized.
“How dare you lay hands on Her Highness!”
While stopping my maids, I kept my gaze fixed on him.
Beneath the bandages covering his eyes, his well-shaped lips seemed to have something to say.
With a grip as desperate as his situation, he pleaded:
“Do… not… treat… me.”
What?
“Let me… die… like this…”
“….”
The strength in his grip disappeared. It seemed he had said what he wanted and lost consciousness again.
His hand slipped from mine onto the sheet, lingering in my sight.
As I stared silently, Hamel and Demia approached.
“Your Highness, I know that type well. He’ll try to kill himself.”
“That’s right. Even if you save him, he’ll just repay you with ingratitude. So, Your Highness… shall I pour the potions back into the bottles?”
“Demia.”
“Yes?”
I looked fondly at her brightening face, then suddenly snatched the highest-grade potion from her arms.
“Ah, Your Highness!”
With a cold smile, I said:
“I can’t let him die. Put him in the bath.”
In this hellish world, if even he remains alive, then perhaps I too can find the strength to struggle on.
Splash.
The sturdy man’s body was placed properly into the bathtub. The potion bathwater, once stained red, gradually stopped—meaning the wounds were clotting and healing.
His upper chest was not submerged, so it wouldn’t receive the treatment. I used a small wooden ladle to pour potion over his neck and shoulders.
The pain had faded somewhat from his expression, but there was still no sign of him regaining consciousness.
Despite the cold bathwater seeping into his body and the discomfort of having nowhere to rest his head, his consciousness sank somewhere far from reality.
“Everyone, leave.”
“The treatment for his face isn’t finished yet, Your Highness.”
“I’ll do it. Leave.”
The maids bowed and exited, closing the bedroom door behind them.
Now, we were alone.
“….”
Had my bedroom ever been this quiet?
I idly touched the surface of the bath to create ripples.
Slowly, I stepped behind him. My fingers pressed along his shoulders, then slid upward, until both hands wrapped around his defenseless neck.
After briefly feeling his pulse, I tilted his head all the way back so I could clearly see his face.
Slowly, I caressed his cheek, then removed the bandage covering his eyes.
“I didn’t want to force this.”
…Even as I said that, my next action was undeniably coercive.
I chose his left eye, pried open his tightly shut eyelid with my fingers, and poured the highest-grade potion directly onto it.
“Ugh…!”
The potion soaked not only his eye but also his nose and mouth, making it hard for him to breathe.
But that wasn’t what truly caused him pain.
