Chapter 32
Chapter 32
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: The Trampoline's Secret
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The chair let out a harsh scraping sound that grated on the ears, and the attending physician's eyes widened dramatically.
"K-Knight Stipe."
"...I'll head out first."
He had come to pick up some medicine, but Stipe left empty-handed.
Before the doctor could even grab him, he gave a perfunctory nod, flung the door open in an instant, and vanished.
Right hand.
I recalled once more the direction of the hand he'd used to boldly twist the doorknob open.
His wrist was supposedly injured so badly from Dietrich that he couldn't even go on his mission, yet it looked perfectly fine?
Now, the only ones left in the infirmary were me and the physician, whose face had gone deathly pale.
'He's lying.'
There was no reason for Dad to move the crown prince somewhere else when he was already at our house.
Even if there were, it would be top secret.
Dad hadn't even told me directly that the prince was at our estate—he wouldn't carelessly spill something that important.
'I hope Stipe moves just as I'm hoping.'
As I gathered my thoughts, I picked up Kiki from my lap. The stitches on her neck had torn a little earlier when Stipe had yanked her out of my arms with all his strength.
"Hey."
I'd been quietly preparing to leave when I suddenly spoke up, and the physician's shoulders jerked in fright.
He had a timid, faint-hearted look about him.
As I stared up at him silently, he couldn't even meet my eyes properly at first, but he finally cleared his throat.
"What is it, miss?"
"Is the film the squatting butler prepared a magic tool?"
"Pardon?"
"Is it a magic tool?"
Now red and blue spots were floating in my vision.
The floor kept surging up and then sinking back down.
My stomach was churning worse than it ever had in my past life when I was blackout drunk. Just sitting up straight in my seat was using up every ounce of patience I had.
So I couldn't tolerate the physician just flapping his mouth for long.
'The trampoline was something the butler brought to our house.'
On the first day I saw Yasmin, he'd said so clearly.
I'd played with it happily for a good while, but after the butler got locked in the Punishment Cell, they searched all the items he'd brought from the main house and got rid of the trampoline too.
'I never imagined it'd end up in the infirmary.'
And I certainly never dreamed I'd sense magic poison from it.
It had been perfectly fine when I played with Dietrich on it.
What had they done to the trampoline?
Was it a film that released magic poison over time?
Or had they dusted it with the stuff?
'Or if not that...'
But why now?
What was the intent?
I wanted to think more, but my head was throbbing like it might split open, so I decided to quickly wrap up intimidating the faint-hearted physician.
"I-I have no idea what you're talking about, miss. That film was harvested from a monster with no magic poison in it. The other children play with it just fine too..."
"Doesn't matter."
Whatever they'd secretly done to it didn't really matter anyway.
"While you're stayin' here nice an' quiet till we get back, no funny business, an' I'll send ya home all healthy."
The physician stared at me like he'd seen a ghost as I laid out my threats in broken baby talk.
I meant it, even if it came out threatening.
I didn't know what scheme was afoot, but if he just stayed put without messing with me, Dad, Dietrich, or any of our household staff, I really would let him go.
'He seems soft-hearted, so a little scare might work.'
The knights remaining at our estate were still recovering from their injuries.
For the time being, we really needed this capable physician sent from the main house.
"No answer? Ya goin'?"
"...Y-Yes, understood."
The physician wiped the cold sweat from his brow over and over.
Seeing his hand tremble as he clutched the handkerchief, I rose from my seat.
I'd seen what I needed to see and said what I needed to say.
There was no reason to stay longer in this horrific stench.
"Urk!"
I walked out pretending to be as fine as possible, but once I was a good distance from the infirmary, I grabbed the frame of a half-open window where rain was blowing in and collapsed to the floor.
A pain like someone scraping my insides with something sharp surged up.
I'd been exposed to the magic poison far longer than when I'd seen the war prisoners, so the headache refused to subside. I couldn't tear myself away from the windowsill for quite a while.
In the midst of the skull-cracking pain, one person came to mind.
'Dad endures pain like this all the time...'
I hadn't even manifested my Divine Grace yet.
And yet, just because of my bloodline, I had to suffer this much.
If this was my pain, what must it be like for Dad, with his exceptionally strong power?
And at least I hadn't been directly hit by the magic poison.
'I just smelled it a little from nearby.'
Even that much made my heart shrivel with agony.
I'd barely held on without passing out right there.
'Dad, who went to war...'
Could Dad, leading the Northern Army, have stayed safe in some spot untouched by magic poison, unscathed from head to toe, just watching from afar?
No way.
Even his fingertips, which he'd only gripped briefly, were covered in scars twisting like snakes.
Yet these people were scheming against Dad, who'd fought through that hellish agony and still returned victorious?
'I absolutely won't forgive them.'
I ground my teeth, lifted my head, and glared at the blurry outdoor scene reflected in the window.
Don't touch anyone. Not Dad, not Dietrich.
Those people are my...
Hm.
Even after listening to the rain pattering against the window for a long time, my head still wouldn't cool down.
Stipe hurried down the corridor after slipping out of the infirmary.
'Where was the room where Peter is staying?'
To sneak the crown prince out separately at a time like this, of all times.
Peter was being watched constantly, waiting for an opening, so I'd deliberately jumped in front of that kid's swinging sword and pretended to get hurt.
This wouldn't do.
Gritting his teeth, Stipe arrived at Peter's room to find it completely empty.
He touched the bed urgently; only the chill of the sheets met his hand. It felt like Peter had been gone for quite some time.
"Damn it!"
Stipe slammed his perfectly fine right hand down on the empty bed.
The annex was deserted now that so many knights had left at once.
Peter must have slipped out of the estate during the knights' group movement for that cursed prisoner transport.
'To miss that...'
Stipe clenched his jaw so hard it hurt.
He'd heard that Peter's home was in Kalena, where the main house was.
There was no time or excuse for him to rush all the way there himself.
The right move was to inform the duke's family as soon as possible and have them send someone to handle it.
'But with all the messenger birds cleared out...'
Leopoldt must have caught on to something.
The man who hadn't cared about worldly affairs since losing his wife was now personally handling even minor details like this.
Thanks to that, everything was tangled up. Stipe spat curses several more times.
But that didn't change the fact that the messenger birds were gone.
His mind raced.
If he couldn't use messenger birds, there was only one option left: send word via a human courier.
'Who around here can I use right now?'
The person his master had planted for exactly this purpose was the butler, but that fool had failed spectacularly at seizing control of the household and ended up in the Punishment Cell.
'I need someone who can move freely and won't raise much suspicion if they disappear for a few days.'
Stipe thought of one of the kitchen servants.
His master hadn't entrusted the servant with any major roles.
Just gathering rumors here and there, that sort of thing.
Such a person wouldn't cause much issue if they left the estate.
Decision made, Stipe tore a sheet of paper from Peter's desk and scribbled a quick note.
He wrote that the crown prince was moving and that Peter's home would be used as a secret safehouse.
'He's a dimwit, so he might not deliver it properly.'
Stipe pictured the servants' quarters in his mind.
These things needed to be handled as quickly as possible.
'If I just ignore her a bit, she won't notice...'
That's what that little girl had said.
Leopoldt's daughter. A mere blood-clot not even four years old yet.
He didn't know where she'd overheard it, but if it weren't for that brat, he'd have been in deep trouble with Leopoldt.
Failing the mission to monitor the crown prince would be a fatal blemish.
Arriving at the room of the kitchen servant he remembered, Stipe knocked slowly and deliberately—four times.
It was the standard knock used among those from the main house who shared the spy's status.
"Who...?"
A familiar voice came from inside.