Chapter 39
Chapter 39
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: uly
Chapter: 39
Chapter Title: The Pinky Promise
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"Yes. This is the fattening tea, right?"
"Uh, well..."
He knew I was overweight, so he seemed to want to advise me that Malrove tea wasn't the best choice.
Unable to bluntly say it wasn't good for fat people, Aaron hesitated, and I just shrugged and smiled at him.
"I've been drinking it without knowing any better until now. Truth be told, I've been trying to lose weight for health reasons, so I should switch up my tea."
"Is that so? In that case, I recommend plum tea, or if price isn't an issue, Bruanu tea made from dried Selbre leaves."
"Plum and Bruanu. Got it. Thanks."
I smiled back at the kindly grinning Aaron while inwardly unleashing a torrent of curses for the first time in ages.
*Damn it! That fucking Molga, what a bitch!*
The tea Molga had gifted me under the pretense of caring was nothing short of a poison that steadily piled on fat over a lifetime.
No matter how much I exercised—ten laps around the training grounds—it was pointless if the tea kept packing on healthy weight with every sip.
"Aaron, I have a question."
I was furious, but learning that Molga had been secretly scheming like this was a stroke of luck.
A faint suspicion I'd only just begun to nurture was now growing wildly.
"What is it?"
I opened the small packet I had and showed it to Aaron.
"It's medicine prescribed by our family doctor. Can you tell me what effects it has?"
"Oh, of course."
Aaron examined the four types of pills from the packet.
"Bonachio, Montaine, Gramas, Alrovanus... Hmm, all standard medicines."
"Really?"
"Yes. Bonachio and Montaine are usually prescribed to boost energy in patients with low activity levels, and Gramas helps stabilize the nerves. You can think of Alrovanus as a nutritional supplement."
"Is it okay to take them all together?"
"Well, yes... Ah!"
Aaron exclaimed and pointed to the white pill among them.
"But there's something to watch out for with this Alrovanus. When it mixes with alcohol, it turns from medicine into poison."
"Ah."
I froze.
"Alcohol... you mean?"
"Yes. Actually, you should avoid alcohol with any medicine, but Alrovanus is especially deadly, so abstinence isn't just a light suggestion. You absolutely must not drink."
"I see."
"Just keep that in mind, and it should be fine. Of course, your family doctor would have warned you."
"Got it."
I nodded and pulled out another packet I'd set aside.
It jingled with the sound of coins, revealing a pile of gold inside the wide-open pouch.
Aaron tilted his head.
"Thanks for coming today. Could you maybe check on my dad's condition from time to time? We have a family doctor, but I trust your skills more."
"Of course. Just let me know the day before, and I'll come right away."
"Really, thank you. This is for today's house call fee."
"Hm? It's hardly a house call since I didn't do much. I won't charge a fee."
"You came all the way here."
"Even as a house call fee, it's only 50,000 marks."
"Honestly, isn't that too cheap? Even newly licensed doctors charge at least 300,000 marks as a base fee."
"Haha... Everyone sets their own rates."
"Please take it."
Unable to argue with my firm tone, Aaron cleared his throat and took out five gold coins.
It was the standard house call fee of 50,000 marks he'd mentioned.
"Then, just this..."
"Aaron."
"Yes, Duchess."
"It's not like I investigated or anything—I just overheard it in passing—but I heard you have some tabs open at the apothecary."
Aaron stiffened.
"If you don't charge fees and even cover medicine for patients who can't pay, what do you live on?"
"Uhmm..."
"I know you treat poor patients out of the goodness of your heart, and I support that. So think of this as a donation."
"..."
"It's not much, but I'd like to help a little with the good work you're doing."
Aaron stared at me blankly before letting out a laugh.
"You're truly kind and warm-hearted, Duchess."
"You're one to talk."
He laughed out loud and pocketed the coin pouch.
"In that case, I won't stand on ceremony—thank you. In case you're worried I might misuse it, I'll keep detailed records in the ledger."
"No worries at all."
As Aaron prepared to leave, he glanced at the medicine on the table and cautioned me.
"While taking Alrovanus, be extra careful not to have even a single drink."
"Yes, I will."
He thought this was my medicine, but no.
"Thanks for worrying."
This was Dad's medicine.
The medicine of the man who'd been drowning in alcohol until now.
* * *
Blinding sunlight poured down.
Under the parasol in the garden, I lounged half-reclined in a comfy relax chair, savoring a lazy afternoon.
*Mmm, this refreshing vitamin D vibe...*
People really do need sunlight.
That's why I'd deliberately dragged Dad out here for some sunbathing.
On the picnic table between us.
Dad and I struck the same pose, lifting our glasses from the table and slurping through straws.
After taking a sip of the cool juice made from apples, sugar, and crushed ice, Dad eyed my glass.
"What's that."
"Protein shake."
Naturally, with all sugars off-limits for me, I was content with a protein shake.
"Dad."
"What."
As I studied Dad's more human-like face, I recalled Aaron's parting words.
"Many patients who ignored the risks and kept mixing Alrovanus with alcohol have suddenly complained of chest pains and died on the spot."
In my previous life, Dad had died suddenly at thirty-nine from chest pains.
*Mixing alcohol—which turns it into poison—with Alrovanus over a long period. Chest pains before death. Probably some cardiovascular disease.*
The cause of death was now clear.
"What does the family doctor say when he prescribes your medicine?"
"What would he say?"
"Like precautions. Stuff like 'absolutely no alcohol.'"
Dad shrugged like it was no big deal.
"He says not to drink, obviously. What doctor allows alcohol while on meds? They all say the same obvious things."
That was the talk of someone who didn't know there was a medicine lethally toxic with alcohol.
What if something went wrong later?
Our shady old family doctor would just shrug and say, "I told the former Duke not to drink."
The doctor who checked on Dad periodically... would he really...
*Not know Dad kept drinking despite warnings?*
No way he didn't know. He knew and kept prescribing Alrovanus anyway.
Along with the warning—perhaps sounding obvious—not to drink.
*The intent to kill him slyly is plain as day. He's been bought off by Molga for ages.*
I thought.
*Can't switch doctors or stop the meds. That'd tip them off that we're suspicious.*
Annoying as it was, I now had reason to keep Molga in the ducal residence a bit longer. And for that, all 'suspicions' had to stay with me alone.
Finishing my thoughts, I turned to Dad.
"Dad, alcohol from now on..."
"Not drinking. Day 24 sober."
Fed up with my nagging every time I saw him, Dad answered quickly.
I gave a satisfied smile to my grumpy but obedient Dad.
"Dad."
"What."
"Live a long time."
"..."
Dad paused mid-sip, staring at me blankly.
"I want you healthy and living a long, long life. Yeah, I'm still a bit resentful and hurt by you, but..."
"..."
"Maybe with time, it'll fade. I don't completely fail to understand you."
I broke eye contact, leaning back in my chair, and kept going.
"Spending meals together every day and time like this, I've started feeling more comfortable around you than before. I've realized I might've misunderstood some things about you too."
"..."
"Do you feel the same about me, Dad?"
Embarrassed after asking, I laughed and added,
"If we slowly learn these unknown sides of each other, we could end up like other close father-daughter pairs, right? No."
I turned to Dad.
He'd been watching me the whole time, so our eyes locked immediately.
"If possible, I really want that. But for it to happen, you have to stay healthy and live a long, long time."
"I'm healthy."
"Yeah. So stay healthy from now on, okay?"
True to form, the taciturn Dad just stared at me without a word.
*What's with the silence?*
Feeling awkward, I fussed.
"Live long without getting sick, close your eyes only when you're old and gray—and no alcohol until then. Promise!"
Hm, asking for lifelong sobriety might be too much.
I stuck out my pinky to seal the promise but hesitated.
"..."
Yet for some reason, Dad—who'd been staring intently—didn't grumble or hesitate. He hooked his pinky right away.
Afraid I'd pull away, Dad linked fingers swiftly, chuckled, and said,
"Fine. Promise."