Reverse Life Reversal (6)
The head butler said nothing as we made our way toward the Main Building.
No warnings to watch my tongue. No reminders to mind my manners.
I had half-expected him to offer some caution or advice, yet he kept silent.
Thanks to that silence, I was able to organize, at least in rough outline, what I would say to the Emperor.
Back in the old days…
In my previous life, whenever I had to persuade the hospital director, I always used the same approach.
I would lay out, in concrete detail, exactly how much I had contributed to the hospital’s success. I would explain, with airtight logic, the precise ways my department had driven the hospital’s growth. And just when the director was on the verge of being convinced, instead of demanding a larger budget, I would propose that—for the sake of the hospital’s future—he reverse the planned cuts to our department.
…Looking at it like this, it almost sounds like gaslighting.
…No. Absolutely not.
Gaslighting? Please. There weren’t even any applicants for Critical Care, so I was already working myself into the ground. Cutting the budget on top of that? Absurd. They had created the department specifically to keep me.
Just thinking about it is making me mad.
Anyway, the core of that technique was simple: prove that rewarding me was the rational choice, and argue that even if the reward looked like a short-term loss, it would eventually return as a far greater gain. And the most important part of all was that, after receiving the reward, I actually delivered results. Only then would I have something to stand on the next time.
By the time I finished replaying those old memories, the Main Building had already come into view. It was a structure exactly the same size as the Annex—except that only two people lived in it. That, and the internal layout, were the differences between the two buildings.
The interior really is completely different.
I studied the unfamiliar halls of the Main Building while steadily following the head butler. After roughly five minutes of walking, he came to a stop and took hold of the doorknob in front of him. Just before opening the door, he finally spoke.
“When you have an audience with His Majesty the Emperor, you kneel on your right knee and pay your respects.”
He had finally given me the information I had been waiting for.
“Your greeting may be anything you like, so long as it is not overly long.”
I had never been taught imperial etiquette, so of course I was completely ignorant on the subject. I could hardly meet the Emperor in that state.
He had to tell me eventually.
“Understood.”
I answered concisely. Hearing that, the head butler pulled the handle and swung the door wide open. I stepped quietly inside.
Only two people occupied the spacious office. Seated at the place of honor, gazing down at me with open interest, were the Emperor and the Northern Grand Duke, Rudiger. The instant their eyes locked onto me, I moved exactly as the head butler had instructed. Without hesitation I dropped to my right knee on the floor and bowed my head.
Keep the greeting short.
From my mouth came the most inoffensive, respectful phrase I could manage.
“I present myself before His Majesty the Emperor and His Grace the Grand Duke.”
“Rise.”
I had barely knelt when the Emperor gave the command. I rose at once.
“I hear from Duke Rudiger that your name is Jian?”
“That is correct, Your Majesty.”
“Jian, thanks to your hands, the commander of the Imperial Knight Order lives.”
The Emperor leaned back against his chair, studying me intently as he continued.
“Might I put a few questions to you regarding your abilities?”
“It would be an honor, Your Majesty.”
If he was going to ask…
Something like ‘I stabbed him with a sword, so why is he still breathing?’ maybe.
Or simply how I had done it?
While those thoughts still turned, the Emperor spoke again.
“I am no great archmage, yet as a mana user who can sense mana, I can tell you this: I sense not a single trace of mana from you.”
“……”
“Which means that today’s miracle was wrought without mana—purely by your own skill.”
“……”
“Is it possible, then, that you can call forth miracles akin to magic even without mana?”
The Emperor’s question had an easy answer. I could not use magic of any kind. But that was not what he meant. What he was really asking was how I had accomplished something even magic could not do—without magic at all.
I considered for a moment before answering.
“Your Majesty, I cannot call forth miracles.”
Revealing my ability was a far better choice than hiding it.
“I was able to help the Knight Commander simply because my knowledge reached that far.”
“Your knowledge, you say…”
The Emperor nodded slowly.
“Knowledge that saves lives…”
A smile gradually spread across his lips.
“Truly a wondrous thing. That in this Empire—no, even I, who rule the continent beyond the Empire—do not possess this knowledge, yet a child who has not even reached adulthood does.”
“……”
“Forgive me one further question. By what name should I call this knowledge of yours?”
“Medicine. It is medicine, Your Majesty.”
With that simple exchange the Emperor’s curiosity was largely satisfied, and he at last turned to the main point.
“Before we speak of rewards for your merit, allow me first to offer my thanks. You have my gratitude for saving a man the Empire cannot do without.”
“You flatter me.”
“Flattery? Nonsense.”
He chuckled softly and went on.
“As you know, the reason you have been summoned here is so that I may reward your merit.”
“……”
“If you demand too much, I will be unable to grant your wish. A title, for example, or vast wealth—those sorts of things.”
As if that would happen. All I truly wanted was to leave the North; that alone would make everything fine. I wasn’t after a title or a fortune.
…Well, a little money wouldn’t hurt…
But nothing extravagant.
While the hope circuit in my head was spinning at full speed, the Emperor spoke again.
“When I compose the personnel of the Imperial Palace, I always strive to fill every post with the finest talents available—knights, butlers, strategists, chefs, healers—without regard to field.”
“……”
“That does not, however, mean I recklessly poach outstanding individuals from every corner of the Empire.”
“……”
“Consider it. If the Emperor himself toured the provinces and dragged every gifted person into the Imperial Palace, what would become of the territories left behind?”
The Emperor fixed me with eyes that held the weight of years.
“That would be killing the territories and, in the end, hastening the decline of the Empire itself. When the roots wither, the pillar collapses.”
He was right. It was the clear-eyed view of a ruler who understood balanced national development. This Emperor was a true sage king…
…He’s too much of a sage king.
At this rate I would never hear the words I wanted. Yet I could hardly interrupt him and blurt out, “I want to go to the Imperial Palace!”
“Therefore let me state it plainly in advance. I have no intention of taking you to the Imperial Palace. Through the merit you have earned, spread your usefulness widely from the North.”
This is really not it.
My plan had been perfect. The Emperor would take an interest. I would pique that interest with the keyword “medicine.” Then I would say, “I wish to test my abilities further within the Imperial Palace!” and head straight for the heart of the Empire. Where, exactly, had it gone wrong?
…The problem is that the Emperor is too wise.
In a normal romance fantasy the emperor is supposed to be a fool and the servant the clever one. Why was it the opposite here?
Could this not even be a romance fantasy?
Were the Northerners just the dumb ones?
“Well then. Tell me what it is you desire.”
My thoughts froze. I had never anticipated a situation like this.
What do I ask for?
I forced myself to focus and raced through the possibilities. What I needed most right now…
It would be wonderful if I could use magic too.
Learning magic. If my knowledge fused with that superpower called magic, I could become the complete physician.
I drew a short breath and spoke.
“I wish to learn magic.”
The Emperor closed his mouth and fixed his gaze on me. A thousand thoughts flooded my mind. Was it forbidden for a commoner to study magic? Had my request crossed some invisible line? My head spun, yet—
“You wish to learn magic… Very well.”
Seeing the Emperor finally nod, I was able to release an inward sigh of relief.
When the conversation with those exalted personages ended, I left the room. Yet the head butler, who ought to have been waiting outside the door, was nowhere in sight.
What’s this?
Leaving someone stranded without so much as a word to wait was remarkably unkind. I clicked my tongue lightly to myself and made my way out of the Main Building alone. Just as I was about to head for the Annex—
Rustle—.
An odd sound drifted from the garden prepared behind the Main Building.
“……?”
I had not misheard. The rustling continued at regular intervals. It was the sound of someone walking across the grass.
At this hour?
It was far too light for the footsteps of the knights on night patrol. I silenced my own steps and carefully approached the garden, then peeked around the edge.
“…Why is she over there?”
It was Selene, strolling slowly among the flowers. Her gait, however, was slightly strange—irregular, almost like that of someone who had been drinking.
“……”
I watched a little longer. Before long Selene simply sank down where she stood. The problem was that she showed no sign of rising again.
“She’s not drunk… is she?”
…She had better not be. A girl of her age drinking herself into a stupor could cause any number of problems—permanent damage to brain development, impaired physical growth, alcohol dependence…
“Why would someone so precious do something that only slum children would do?”
Hoping she had not touched alcohol, I approached carefully, then lightly.
“…My Lady?”
At my call Selene slowly raised herself. Then she began to walk again. I made a quick assessment of her condition. Her eyes would not focus, she gave no coherent reply, and her steps remained unsteady. Yet no smell of alcohol hung about her. Which meant Selene was…
“Looks like sleepwalking.”
I reached the conclusion that she was a sleepwalker.