Cold Medicine (1)
“All done. There's a wire inside the nose part. Don't forget to mold it tight to your face.”
“Stop fiddling with it. I said I can do it myself.”
Asella, who was trying a mask for the first time, kept touching her face because the sensation felt so strange. Now that it was on, he realized he'd made it a bit too big after all. Her face was even smaller than he'd estimated.
“The reason masks work is that contagious viruses mainly spread through droplets. That's infection. The virus causing the illness is a living thing, so...”
“I get the gist. Don't lecture me on medical knowledge—you know it well enough yourself.”
“Is it too hard to understand?”
Asella furrowed her brows sharply, her pride stung by his words.
“Do you understand my magic completely?”
“Of course not. How could a wretch like me dare to gaze upon Her Highness's grand mysteries from the same level?”
“Same here.”
Was that a compliment just now?
“Do you have enough masks for the knights too?”
“Not quite that many yet. But you have spares for yourself. Have your closest maid and escort knights wear them first. More importantly...”
He pulled a vial from his pocket. White pills rattled inside, filling it to the brim.
“I've made medicine for the contagion.”
“Really?!”
Asella shouted loudly and took the vial in both hands. She peered closely at its contents. It was a fresh sight, seeing her react so intensely for the first time.
“Eating this will cure the contagion?”
“Colds aren't curable, so no full cure. But it will definitely ease the symptoms. The knights can get back to action without issue.”
“With this, the martial tournament...”
Asella nodded vigorously. She called her head maid and distributed the medicine.
“No overuse. Make sure they take no more than two a day.”
“Got it.”
The knights each popped an aspirin into their mouths. They might have thought the action awkward, but they obeyed their lord's command without hesitation. He'd noticed it before—Asella's faction had unusually strong loyalty.
The knights, after taking the aspirin and resting briefly, soon snapped to attention and jumped to their feet, spirits restored.
Works like a charm.
Asella, watching them, relaxed visibly, her trapezius muscles easing.
“Young Master Gotberg.”
“Yes?”
“In this martial tournament, I must engrave my existence upon His Majesty.”
“I see.”
“His Majesty is a man of great ambition by nature. Right now, for stability's sake, he's tentatively named the First Prince as heir, but he's too timid to be emperor material.”
Asella suddenly launched into an unprompted ramble.
“If one of his children shows strong talent and leadership, he'll reignite the fires of conquest from his youth. His heart will change then.”
“I see.”
“Georg the Second Prince and Heike the First Princess know it too. They'll both give their all in the tournament to flaunt their forces, and I must surpass them.”
“One thing I've been wondering.”
He asked Asella on impulse.
“Why does Your Highness want to become emperor?”
Asella didn't answer his question. Instead, she threw it back.
“Would that answer affect your loyalty?”
She seemed reluctant to say. He had no desire to poke the hornet's nest.
“Not at all. No matter what, my loyalty to Your Highness is unwavering.”
“Good.”
Asella replied like that but didn't explain her reason.
“Treating the knights will be recognized as special merit. What reward do you want, Young Master?”
“A mage who can use levitation.”
“I can. Why?”
“No, just kidding.”
If he asked her to ferry him to and fro, she'd charge him hundreds of times over.
“You're keeping that envelope with my requests safe, right?”
“Yes. Preserved with conservation magic so it won't degrade. No one can open it until I invoke the geas. Is that what you want? Doesn't seem like merit enough for that.”
“Of course. If Your Highness hasn't forgotten, that's reward enough.”
“So you're entrusting me with what I owe you.”
“Uh...”
Asella might show up with something outrageous and demand payment in return. What had he needed lately?
The thing that irks me most is how her faction gets dismissed because it's so small.
Maybe take a stroll to the southern barracks.
“Lend me Your Highness's knights for a bit.”
“Fine, do that.”
“Then shall we measure your blood pressure now?”
“Yeah, let's go.”
Asella, her worries about the knights eased, meekly followed him back to her room.
The next day, he gathered twenty of Asella's knights in the rear garden of Moonlight Palace. Every one of them mirrored her—serious expressions without a hint of playfulness.
“Did I wander into a statue exhibition? Number one statue there, had breakfast?”
The called knight froze rigid, breath held. He seemed torn between playing statue or answering.
Jokes don't land with these guys.
“At ease.”
He hated stiff atmospheres. A glimpse into how Asella trained them.
“You got the message. Today's schedule: no training, stick with me. Her Highness's orders.”
The knights remained wooden. Come to think of it, imperial knights had a rule: never speak until a superior permits. No need to follow it this strictly.
Training level too high.
“First, confirmation. Everyone here swears loyalty to Princess Asella, not Empress Camilla, right? Speak if not.”
No response.
“Who's in charge?”
“Me, Teacher Gotberg.”
One knight raised his hand.
“Captain?”
“Captain of Moonlight Palace, but typically that means regimental commander. Our unit's platoon-sized, so I'm platoon leader.”
“Got it. You're high up, then, Tanya Captain?”
“Don't tease. You know I'm just another knight in the palace.”
Difference between provinces and capital.
“Platoon leader, tell me why you pledge to Her Highness.”
“Her grace convinced me she's the next emperor.”
“Mm, spot on. Sharp eyes here.”
They'd picked the right side.
“You're serving the next emperor. Your direct guard must match that caliber. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“You know how we're treated out there?”
“...Embarrassing, but yes. We know.”
The platoon leader clenched his fist, anger thick in his voice.
“So in this tournament, we'll show our full strength—no disgrace to Her Highness. Thanks to you, Teacher, everyone's healthy now...”
“I say show it before the tournament. Checked the southern barracks—facilities are top-notch.”
He addressed them.
“We deserve that too, right?”
The platoon leader looked baffled at his proposal.
“Of course, but for a unit like ours...”
“Let's borrow 'em.”
He suggested it lightly, like a neighborhood stroll.
Heading to the southern barracks with the knights.
“Which unit... Gah, Teacher Gotberg!”
The sentry spotted him and recoiled in shock. Same guy as last time.
“At ease. Why solo sentry?”
“Uh, well...”
The sentry trailed off, sniffling. Slow on the uptake, so the company commander came rushing out.
“Teacher! What brings you again?”
“Nothing much—want to borrow training facilities. Got space?”
“Whew, training facilities? This is Second Regiment's turf, but...”
“Imperial knights can request anywhere. Write the form for me.”
“Well, true, but...”
The commander couldn't protest his power play. Felt like a bolt from the blue.
“This is too much. Barging in like this?”
“Plenty resting from the plague anyway. Fields can't be full.”
“Same for you? It's palace-wide. Moonlight knights should be bedridden—why train here?”
“Ours are fine. Watch.”
At his order, Moonlight knights demonstrated crisp formations. The commander gaped at their vibrant eyes.
“Wha? How?”
“Teacher treated us.”
Tanya stepped forward, and the commander gasped silently.
“You, Teacher? Wow...”
He pondered, then yielded.
“If you're that insistent, come in. Not using it today anyway.”
Thanks to him, Asella's knights trained in premium facilities that day. Enchanted swords and armor adjustable for intensity. Training grounds simulating battle environments too.
Moonlight knights, knowing Tanya's skill, sparred eagerly with her.
“Huh... They're really fine.”
The commander scratched his head, eyeing their unit.
“Ours that bad?”
“Second Regiment's nearly wiped out. Tournament's near—disaster. Inner healers work nonstop, still like this. What's your secret, Teacher?”
“Would you spill if roles reversed?”
“Help us out—we're all imperial knights.”
“Why treat you? Not loyal to Princess Asella.”
The commander scratched his jaw, whispering.
“Been doing those stretches you taught. Pretty, right?”
“Gross.”
“Then just our company... Hurts seeing my men suffer. In return, our company fights for Asella's in the tournament?”
Amusing proposal.
“You're Second Prince faction.”
“Nah, not that rigid here. Prince's been drilling us for the tournament—knights are exhausted.”
“How many?”
“One-twenty.”
Hm. Asella's unit: mere twenty. Short on numbers for the tourney.
“Company commander, confident you'll give it all?”
“Naturally. I'm a knight—won't take back my word.”
“Hold on.”
He quickly drafted a document.
“Break this, you're done—contract. Can read?”
“Don't underestimate. Imperial knights get higher education.”
The commander signed readily. Thus, Second Regiment's First Company joined Asella's command for the tournament—full effort, his judgment final.
“Now treat our knights?”
“Hope you like bitter food.”
He pulled out the aspirin vial.
Three days later.
“Teacher! Heard from intro...”
“Second Regiment Second Company commander—cures plague in one shot, no, treats it!”
“Please, our unit too!”
Burly knights flooded his office. Covering his mouth, he told them.
“Don't spit everywhere.”