The Price of Genius
"A genius, yes — but an unlucky one. He developed a new drug and lived in splendor for two whole years, and then, in the end..."
Rebert had been driven out of the royal palace when his predilection for corpses came to light. Nothing was ever confirmed about what became of him after that, but I had heard it said that his end was not a good one.
"What a waste — he was an excellent doctor. If only he'd listened to me, he could have lived."
Those were the words Dayson spoke when news of his death arrived. Looking back now, even Rebert's death had never quite added up.
Just as I was sifting through my memories of Rebert, Chyo spoke.
"He's somewhere more dangerous than I expected."
"Where is he?"
"Under a smuggler, of all people. They have him hiding dangerous goods on his body and moving them around for them. Why would you want a man like that?"
Chyo made no secret of her dislike for my search. According to her, Rebert was a man who could be of no earthly use to me.
But she had never seen the talent he possessed, so of course that was all she could say.
Rebert was a genius of a physician. His career had been brief, yet the groundwork he laid in those two years was what allowed the art of medicine to advance by leaps and bounds.
Then again — a smuggler, of all things. Remembering the parade of rare substances that had gone into his painkillers, I couldn't say it was such a surprising place to find him.
"Can you bring him to me, Auntie?"
"Anything's possible if you've got the money. Those smugglers buy children straight out of the slums, after all."
I held out the jewel case I had prepared. For an instant, Chyo's eyes wavered violently.
In my current position I could hardly lay hands on ready cash, so all I had to offer were the necklaces, rings, and other trinkets I'd received since childhood — but there were a great many of them.
And I hadn't even taken out a quarter of my collection yet.
And then, of course, there was still Mother's safe.
"Shh, Diana. This stays between you and me alone. Mother's treasure is in here."
"What is it?"
"Hmm, what could it be? What do you want it to be?"
"A doll?"
The memory rose up from my childhood. Before my regression, it had never once occurred to me to open my mother's safe. I had assumed it held her keepsakes, and I had believed that leaving them untouched was the only courtesy owed to the dead.
But after I regressed, the question began to gnaw at me. What on earth was inside?
Not long ago, I finally opened it. The safe was crammed to bursting with a staggering hoard of jewels and magical tools so rare they could scarcely be found anywhere in the world.
But what caught my eye was something else entirely.
[The dress Diana wore the moment she was born]
[The first picture Diana ever drew]
Unlike the other odds and ends shoved haphazardly onto the topmost shelf, these had been arranged with the care one gives true treasure.
Every last one of my mother's treasures had to do with me.
I had wept buckets the day I found them. Even now, the memory made my nose sting.
I had no wish to carelessly cast off my mother's belongings. Still, I could only stretch so far on my own — and surely, when hard times came, they were meant to be used.
For today, at least, what I had on hand would be enough.
Chyo opened the jewel case and drew out only the necklaces and rings. She tilted the gems to catch the light, weighed them in her palm — then pocketed exactly half.
"This will do."
"You could have taken all of it, Auntie. Your pockets would have been that much heavier."
"You work as much as you're paid. You take only as much as you can work. Eat too much and you'll make yourself sick. Write that down."
Every so often, Chyo showed flashes of a genuine aunt. It was a far cry from the woman who, the day we first met, had demanded to know what I would give her.
When I only blinked at her in bewilderment, Chyo caught the tip of my nose between her fingers and wiggled it.
"Ah! Auntie!"
Chyo watched me squirm with undisguised delight, giggling as she hooked a leg over the windowsill. Rubbing my nose, I said,
"Won't you at least stay for a cup of tea?"
"Didn't you say you were in a hurry? I'll bring him tonight."
With that, Chyo vaulted out the window and vanished.
"We're on the fourth floor, you know. I do hope she'll be all right."
She must have been all right, or she wouldn't have jumped. I stood gazing out the window Chyo had disappeared through for a long while before closing it. The wind had a bite to it.
"Now, then. Time for a little rest."
I stretched long and luxuriously, and was just sinking toward the sofa when—
"My lady."
It was Matthew, the butler. A weighty stack of documents hung from his hands.
"Come in, Matthew."
I fingered my crooked ribbon and nodded. Matthew hesitated a moment on the threshold before stepping into the room, and worry had settled into his eyes as he looked at me.
"Matthew?"
I called to my silent butler, documents still in hand — half greeting, half prompt to hurry along. If he had business, I wished he would state it quickly and let me get on with my day.
I might have been a child in excellent health, but an entire day spent racking my brain over the future was bound to wear anyone out. Rebert was due this evening, and I had hoped to rest until then.
"Documents concerning a revision of the provincial territory tax law have been submitted, my lady."
So much for rest. I abandoned the idea the moment the words left his mouth.
Of all things, it had to be the tangled question of taxes.
The kingdom's people paid two kinds of taxes: one to the king, and one to their lord. The provincial territory tax law governed what a territory's residents owed its master, and once every four years the head of the house might gather with the vassals to amend it.
It had last been revised when I was eleven, so this was not a revision year. And yet papers concerning it had been submitted?
The timing was all wrong — which could only mean something had gone wrong.
Come to think of it, there was a riot over the taxes this year, wasn't there?
What exactly had happened? My memory of it was maddeningly hazy.
"I'll take care of everything myself, so don't you trouble your head about it."
Count Kolkos had detested any interest of mine in the territory's affairs, and around that time he had thrown banquets every other day, keeping me too dizzy with parties to think straight.
No wonder I couldn't remember.
"Here, hand it over."
I held out my hand to Matthew.
"I beg your pardon?"
Matthew asked, genuinely puzzled.
Lately, people had developed a gift for making me say everything twice.
Honestly, why did they all do that? Perhaps I should commission a magical tool — one that hooked over the ear and magnified the speaker's voice.
Now that I thought of it, that tool had also been the mad doctor's handiwork, hadn't it?
I fairly itched to meet him, but first I had to get through the papers Matthew had brought.
"Didn't you bring those for me to see?"
"That is correct, but..."
"Then hand them over, please."
"Can you truly make sense of tax-law documents, my lady? They are exceedingly difficult."
Matthew was dismissing me, in his quiet, polite way. Yet I found I couldn't quite take offense.
The thirteen-year-old me was an innocent who had sworn off studying altogether and knew nothing of how the world worked. Not that I had understood it any better once I was grown, mind you — which was precisely how I'd been taken in by fools scheming to fleece me and ended up dead on the executioner's block.
But I was — it feels rather shameless to say it myself — a genius.
After meeting Dayson, I had thrown myself into my studies with a single resolve: to become a worthy queen. That was when I learned how extraordinary I really was. Within a year I had mastered five languages of the continent; in my second, I attained total command of its every history. With that exceptional mind, I helped advance field after field across the kingdom.
But every last achievement was credited not to me, but to Dayson.
"Diana, I hate it when you put yourself in front of others. Don't you see how those bastards look at you? Isn't my love alone enough for you?"
"When did you even think this up! You'll publish it under my name, won't you? It's so lovely, the way you work yourself to the bone for my sake. You know, Diana — my success is your success."
"Diana, you researched the tax law? Wonderful timing. His Majesty has taken an interest in that very subject. I'll go and put in a good word for you. I love you — you truly are my finest partner."
And I believed every word. I believed he hated to see me noticed because he loved me. Seduced by that garbage — my success is your success — I lived as his shadow.
I was the genius of the age, hunted with burning eyes by the academies of every nation on the continent — and yet, tragically enough...
All I ever did was study and fall in love, and it cost me my whole life.
No — that wasn't right! Being ruined was not my fault! Those damned bastards had knifed me in the back! The ungrateful wretches.
"My lady? If the documents are beyond you, there is no need to look at them at all."
Matthew had apparently decided my scowl meant I could not understand the papers.
"No, I can read them perfectly well. Give them here."
With a look of open doubt, Matthew set the stack on my desk. There were so many papers that the little table — balancing on three legs as it was — wobbled beneath them. Had Matthew not snatched it steady in time, the documents would have ended up a hopeless tangle.
"Have the desk in my bedchamber replaced. Starting today."
"Did you not say that desk was to your liking? That you loved it for being pretty and dainty..."
So I had. For all that I forgot it now and then, I was still a thirteen-year-old girl who adored anything cute and pretty.
"Leave that one where it is. What I mean is, we should add another desk. It seems I'll be working in my bedchamber now and then from here on. Being the head of a house does come with quite a lot to do, you know?"
"You intend to take up the duties of head of house in earnest, my lady?"
Matthew's eyes narrowed. I lifted my chin at that appraising, measuring look and met his gaze head-on.
"Why? Do you doubt me, Matthew?"
Having asked, I combed through every flicker of his expression.
Count Kolkos had his little feelers threaded through our house. Information leaked out this way and that, and it had long been a thorn in my side. I trusted no one but Jenice — even Matthew, whose family had served as House Ehrenberg's butlers for three generations, stood among the suspects.
If Matthew doubted me and stood in the way of my plans, then the odds were good that he was one of the Count's creatures.
Whose side was Matthew on?
"No, my lady. Surely not. It is only..."
Matthew's voice had begun to tremble, ever so slightly.
"Only what?"
"You always said your dream was to marry into a fine house and live in comfort..."
Had I truly said something so mortifying?
My face flamed.
"I don't recall any such thing."
For now, I deployed a strategic case of amnesia.
"And before that, you declared you would live with the master and the madam for the rest of your days."
If I was a genius, Matthew was a prodigy. His memory was flawless.
"Oh, that one I do remember. But everyone says that sort of thing when they're little."
Mortifying as my past self was, I answered with studied indifference — and mercifully, Matthew let the matter drop without pressing further.
I moved, as naturally as I could, to steer the conversation back to the tax matter.
"Thank you, my lady."
And then, without the slightest warning, Matthew bowed low at the waist.
"That you have resolved to carry on House Ehrenberg — this butler could die with no lingering regrets. No... when you stand as its rightful head of house, then even death itself would be a welcome thing."