Chapter 2
She placed the letter down on the table and Freya continued speaking.
“Still, even if I can understand why my stepmother didn’t write to me, why didn’t my father or my sister send anything? If Brother Ken hadn’t told me about what was happening at home, I would still be completely in the dark, wouldn’t I?”
“Perhaps they didn’t want to worry you. Or maybe they simply didn’t have the presence of mind to write to you during all this.”
“If I had known something like this would happen, I should have gone to the capital with Father last year.”
Last autumn, her maternal grandmother had passed away, and her father had come to the funeral. At that time, he had suggested that she accompany him back to the capital. She had refused—because of her stepmother.
Her stepmother disliked her for two reasons: she looked exactly like her deceased mother, and she was believed to be incompatible with her younger brother Edward. Her father, however, adored his young and beautiful wife who had given him a son. Freya did not want to put him in an awkward position.
Moreover, life in the capital as a noble young lady did not suit her nature. Aristocratic society in this era was excessively obsessed with formality and pretense. Noble daughters devoted their entire lives to securing a good marriage—attending social gatherings, learning etiquette, and refining their education for that purpose. To Freya, it all felt tedious and suffocating.
In contrast, her maternal family’s territory, the Viscounty of Harrington, was different. Located on the empire’s frontier, most of her relatives were practical and down-to-earth rather than obsessed with aristocratic prestige.
In addition, aside from tax revenue, the main source of income for the family came from the pharmaceutical industry. For Freya—who had once been a medical professional in her past life—this field was extremely familiar. Rather than dismissing her knowledge and talent as inappropriate for a noble lady, her relatives welcomed it. Because of that, life here had always felt comfortable and peaceful.
Since arriving at the age of eight, she had only visited the capital a few times. Otherwise, she had lived here continuously—so much so that she could almost call it her hometown.
“It would have been better if you had gone. But it’s not too late now. You are more than capable of restoring your father’s health.”
“Why are you so certain I can heal him, as if I were some omnipotent goddess?”
“You may not be omnipotent, but there hasn’t been a patient you couldn’t treat once your hands were on them. That’s why the people of the territory call you a divine healer.”
“A divine healer… Honestly, if my master heard that, he would be speechless.”
“I didn’t say it openly, of course, but he once told me that there are rare geniuses in this world who defy common sense—and that you might be one of them, Freya.”
“You’re saying my master actually said that?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I do know a lot of things, but I don’t think I’m some kind of genius who defies common sense. He’s exaggerating.”
“Whether exaggerated or not, you are a highly skilled physician and an exceptional pharmacist. The antipyretics and topical ointments you developed are essentially what keep our Harrington Pharmaceutical Company running.”
“Oh, right—that reminds me. The digestive medicine made from crowgrass and salvia flowers seems to be working extremely well. I still need to conduct more clinical trials, but after the antipyretics and wound ointments, this could become another major product.”
“Is that true?”
The viscount’s previously grave expression blossomed instantly, as though a heavy cloud had cleared. Then, realizing his reaction, he let out an awkward smile.
“To think I would be this openly delighted at a time like this… I must look rather materialistic.”
“It’s not being materialistic. It’s only natural. When you’re hungry, you want bread. And for a father supporting many dependents, more wealth is always better.”
“……”
“And even if it were materialistic, so what? Someone who honestly expresses their thoughts is far better than a hypocrite who hides them a thousand times over.”
“That may be true, but in society, a hypocrite is often more useful than a materialist. Especially in the capital. So when you go there, do not openly reveal your thoughts. That includes the fact that you are a physician. People instinctively reject those who are different from them or think in unfamiliar ways.”
“I understand. I don’t intend to practice medicine anywhere except my maternal family’s estate anyway.”
“Is that your true intention?”
“Yes. I’m not financially struggling, and I’m the daughter of the wealthy Count Lopez family. There’s no reason for me to endure gossip just to live as a doctor.”
“But you seem far too sincere about medicine for me to take that at face value.”
Freya, not bothering to deny it, merely shrugged.
“If there’s nothing else, go prepare. We’ll be leaving early tomorrow morning.”
“Then, I’ll be on my way.”
The next day, Freya said her farewells to her maternal relatives who had come to see her off and immediately boarded the carriage.
The total party traveling to the capital consisted of six people: two carriages, two drivers, two escorts, and her personal maid, Anna.
The journey to the capital was expected to take eight days. For the first three days, nothing happened. Though late autumn brought a chill, the weather was clear, and they did not encounter any of the bandit groups rumored to appear in the area.
However, on the fourth day, sudden torrential rain triggered a landslide, sending boulders crashing down like hail across the road. One carriage was destroyed, and one of the escorts was thrown from his horse when it panicked, breaking his right leg.
After discussion, they decided to leave the damaged carriage and the injured escort in a nearby village to recover and return to the territory, while Freya’s carriage continued the journey as planned.
But their path to the capital only grew worse. As they traveled north, floods caused by relentless rain had washed away fields, farmland, and even roads. With no option to turn back, they pressed on through increasingly difficult conditions.
Eventually, they encountered a serious obstacle. The Sage River bridge—approximately fifteen meters wide and connecting the southern and central regions—had been destroyed by the flooding.
Fortunately, the rain had stopped two days earlier, and the water level had receded significantly. The Phillips Count family, responsible for maintaining the bridge in the central region, had already begun repair work.
“Lady, I’ve heard from the locals that it will take at least two days to finish repairing the bridge. I’m not sure what we should do,” the coachman Dwayne reported with a troubled expression.
“Is there no other bridge besides this one?”
“There is another one about half a day’s travel downstream, but there’s no guarantee it’s still intact either.”
“How can there be only two bridges on a river this frequently used?”
Freya voiced her doubt. Until now, she had always crossed it without incident, so she had never thought about it.
“There used to be two more bridges. But five years ago, there was a territorial war between the Phillips Count family in the central region and the Valdek Marquis family in the south. During that conflict, the Phillips family, pushed into a defensive position, destroyed all the bridges to cut off the Valdek family’s supply lines. Even the bridge currently under repair was destroyed back then and rebuilt after the war ended.”
“So the fact that only one was rebuilt means relations between the two territories are still poor?”
“That would be correct.”
“Neighboring territories rarely get along anyway. Too many interests are intertwined.”
The weary voice came from the escort knight Owen, who had been quietly listening. Both Anna and Owen had been suffering from stomach troubles since early morning, likely due to some kind of water contamination, with severe diarrhea. Anna’s condition was especially bad.
Freya had prescribed medicine for both of them, which had reduced the frequency of symptoms, but had not stopped them entirely. The condition would have improved faster if they had kept their stomachs empty, but both had been unable to resist breakfast—an especially greasy meal—which likely worsened it.
“We could turn back to the inn we stayed at last night, but that would take over three hours, and traveling again through the muddy, rain-soaked roads would be no easy task,” Freya said.
“That’s correct,” Dwayne agreed.
“Going to the downstream bridge that may or may not even be intact doesn’t seem like a good option either. We could try building a boat to cross, but that would take longer than repairing the bridge itself. So is there really no choice but to wait here until the bridge is fixed?”
Freya looked up at the overcast sky, her expression heavy with concern. Dwayne then responded.
“There is… one other option. The problem is that all of us cannot go together.”
