Trusting the Genius
'What are you doing, my lady?'
Jenice asked, her mouth hanging open in disbelief, and I shrugged.
Was I overdoing it? But he really did seem like a big dog just now. Look at him — even now he's quietly pushing his head toward my hand. So he can't be too upset about it, right?
Only belatedly did I glance over at Rebert. The tips of his ears had turned red.
Is the room warm or something?
"That's enough for now, my lady. We should be going. You have to see Prince Cassion, remember?"
I had been about to ask for a window to be opened when Jenice urged me along, taking my hand and pulling it away from Rebert's fur — his hair, rather.
On Rebert's stooped face, a flicker of longing lingered.
"My lady……."
He called to me in a voice dripping with reluctance — a far cry from the manner he'd shown when first striking a bargain with me, when he'd been offering me his poisons.
It was a docile, protective-instinct-provoking attitude that I simply couldn't believe belonged to a sixteen-year-old boy, and before I knew it, my hand drifted up again.
Only after I'd stroked him a couple more times did Rebert, apparently satisfied at last, straighten his back.
"Wait a little longer on the dissection. In exchange, I'll get you whatever medicinal ingredients you want as today's fee. If there's anything you need, just tell the butler."
"That's quite all right."
Rebert slumped his shoulders, disappointed that he couldn't conduct his dissection right away. He was thin to begin with, but hunched over like that, he looked even more diminished.
"Take it anyway. Honestly, I'd rather skip the ingredients entirely and build you a proper dissection laboratory. I'll see to it as soon as I can."
It was the kind of thing that ought to have cheered him up, but Rebert still looked deflated.
Why is it that Cassion and Rebert are both such beanpoles?
Looking at Rebert made me think of Cassion. The atmospheres were nothing alike, but perhaps that was the common thread — they were both children who'd been hurt by the adults around them.
Though their appetites couldn't be more different.
Unlike Rebert, who ate everything set in front of him, the prickly, split-personality prince was a notoriously picky eater as well.
I'll have to find us a cook.
"My lady, I……."
I was in the middle of thinking about Cassion when Rebert called me.
"Oh — were you standing there this whole time?"
He could have left ages ago; there was nothing left for him to do. Seeing him standing there like a boy serving out a punishment made me feel guilty.
"From now on, sit down if you want to sit, and leave if you want to leave. Once your business with me is finished, that is."
I explained, kindly enough.
"My lady."
"Hearing you say 'my lady' is far too strange. Just call me 'my lady' — that is, just that."
I'd have to get used to 'my lady' once I became head of the house, but that day hadn't come yet.
"If that is what you wish, then I shall call you 'my lady.'"
Rebert adapted to me in an instant. I liked how he accepted my suggestions without question, so long as they did him no harm. I smiled, satisfied.
"By the way, my lady. Once you leave, what am I supposed to do?"
Why would he even ask that? I tilted my head, then answered anyway.
"Whatever you like. Rest if you want to rest — otherwise, make the medicine. That effective painkiller I mentioned earlier."
I laid out his task clearly for Rebert.
"Will the medicine I make truly be of use to you, my lady?"
Rebert couldn't quite bring himself to believe that he was genuinely useful to me. Reassuring him and teaching him to believe it was my job too, so I answered without a hint of impatience.
If he wants to hear it, I'll tell him ten times, a hundred times. As long as Rebert actually makes proper medicine, that is.
"Of course. Anything you make will be a help to me, I promise. And to you as well."
I'll sell your medicine like hotcakes and set you down on a mountain of gold.
Rebert's eyes sparkled as though he'd caught onto my scheme. Truly, there was no one in this world who didn't love money.
"And from now on you're one of my people, so carry yourself with your head high. Oh, right — your little brothers down in the smuggling ring, I'll get them out of there before long too. Can you wait for me?"
Once Rebert's worries were gone, he'd throw himself into his research. Then even that legendary painkiller of his would be developed that much faster.
"My lady……."
Rebert's voice wavered with tears.
He certainly cries a lot. But why is he crying?
I thought about searching for my handkerchief, then gave up. If I kept handing mine over every time he wept, I wouldn't have one left for myself.
Now it really was time to go.
"Rebert, I'm going to change my clothes. Are you planning to just stand there the whole time?"
"N-no, no, my lady!"
Red-faced, Rebert bolted out of the room in a scramble.
"Let's move quickly, Jenice."
Jenice was unloading a basket of food the mansion's cook had prepared from the carriage.
"There's so much stuff! I told you we should have brought more people along."
"If we don't want rumors spreading, it's better that just you and I come and go. Besides, the back gate is narrow."
I tiptoed toward the back gate leading to the Third Prince's Palace. This was the gate palace maids and servants used when sneaking off for secret trysts.
Those old days of wandering every corner of the palace out of sheer boredom are proving useful at last.
I picked up one of the baskets Jenice had set down and started walking, but she stopped me.
"My lady, how long do we have to keep sneaking in and out of the palace?"
"As long as possible."
"Why?"
It was obvious what sort of rumors would sprout once word spread that the heir of House Ehrenberg was conspiring with the Third Prince.
And if that reached Dayson's ears, or Count Kolkos's —
Ugh, unthinkable.
A shiver ran through me. Dayson would try to kill Cassion. I still lacked the power to protect him. And I had no right to openly take his side, either.
At the very least, I couldn't get caught until Cassion decided he wanted to marry me.
"I'll explain later. There's a lot to carry, so let's start with the luggage."
Jenice had many fine qualities, but right now the one I appreciated most was her simplicity. She didn't even notice I'd deliberately changed the subject — she just picked up the baskets.
Jenice grumbled as she trailed after me. The palace was right in front of us.
And yet — why was it?
Today, the closer we drew to the Third Prince's Palace, the more a nasty premonition crept over me. The place felt eerily, uncannily silent.
It had always been quiet, with only Flac and Cassion living in that sprawling palace, but today the silence felt excessive.
Instinct told me something had happened to Cassion.
"M-my lady!"
Sure enough, Flac came bursting out, gasping for breath.
It took everything I had to calm him down — he was a sodden mess of tears and snot — before the unbelievable words finally spilled from his mouth.
"His— His Majesty……."
But he was panting so hard he couldn't get a full sentence out.
In the end, I had to piece the situation together from the fragments of his account.
The King had come. And Cassion had collapsed. More than a full day had passed, and he still hadn't regained consciousness.
Cassion had always been frail, but he was never one to sleep deeply or for long. Not when he knew the palace wasn't safe.
And this was no mere anxious fancy — there had been signs, before my regression, that Dayson had sent assassins after him.
Sleeping well is fine and good, but not waking even when shaken is dangerous.
I took the stairs two and three at a time.
The moment I flung the door open, a wall of heat hit me. The stove was cold, which meant this heat was coming from Cassion's own body.
I rushed to his side. He looked like a blanket of faded, undyed cloth — stiff, bloodless, and looking as though it might crumble to dust at any moment.
"Prince Cassion!"
I grabbed him and shook him. His body was a burning coal. The cloth around him was damp with sweat — the traces of Flac's desperate efforts to bring the fever down.
"You should have sent word!"
"Th-th-there was no way to……"
Flac had lived like a ghost at Cassion's side, unable to move freely, careful even to breathe quietly lest he be discovered.
A sigh escaped me. I'd let my panic get the better of me and blamed poor Flac, who'd done nothing wrong.
"I'm sorry, Flac. This isn't your fault."
After apologizing, I turned my full attention to Cassion.
"We need a physician."
This was no fever that folk remedies could cure.
"Shall I fetch Dr. Dallas?"
Jenice asked carefully. I shook my head.
"Rebert."
"Yes?"
"Go to the mansion and bring Rebert here. Right now!"
Summoned so abruptly, Rebert proved once again that he was a doctor cut from different cloth entirely. He examined Cassion without asking a single question.
Then he poured a shower of herbs into the mortar he'd brought and began grinding them away. Watching medicine pour endlessly out of that enormous bag of his left me speechless.
"Brew this."
Jenice snatched up the bowl Rebert held out and ran with it.
While the medicine brewed, I changed out Cassion's cold compresses. Flac ran this errand and that at my side, doing his level best.
Your Highness, four people are running themselves ragged for you. So do please wake up.
I thought it as I dunked the overheated cloth into the basin of cold water.
I prayed for the miracle of him opening his eyes at the sound of my heart, but Cassion's remained stubbornly shut.
Before long, Jenice came back into the room carrying a tray with the medicine. The bitter smell filled every corner of the chamber.
"What kind of medicine is it?"
I took the bowl and asked Rebert.
"A medicine to bring the fever down and protect the organs damaged by it, my lady."
I trusted Rebert — but the moment it came to feeding it to Cassion instead of myself, I found myself afraid.
"Could I taste it first?"
"Absolutely not. If someone without a fever drinks it, their temperature will plummet and they could collapse."
Rebert waved his hands in refusal. I hesitated, the bowl in my hands.
What if the medicine is even slightly wrong? What if Cassion never wakes up again because of it?
Revenge aside — a child so young suddenly losing his hold on life, wasn't that just too cruel?
I bit down hard on my lip.
"Aaagh……."
As I hesitated, a groan escaped Cassion. I looked down at him, wracked with pain. His face was white and drained, slick with cold sweat — he needed that medicine desperately.
Rebert is a genius. I have to trust him.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
"Flac, help Prince Cassion sit up."
Flac hurried over and slipped his hands under Cassion's arms. Cassion's limp body followed wherever Flac moved.
Flac sat beside him, bracing him so he wouldn't slump over.
All the while, Cassion kept moaning softly.
"Rebert — I'm trusting you."
That trust was for Rebert's sake, but it was for mine as well. I drew one deep breath and poured the medicine between Cassion's lips.
Handing the emptied bowl to Jenice, I caught a fleeting glimpse of Rebert — the tips of his ears, once again, were red.
"Ugh…… ugh……."
A rasping scrape of his throat snapped me wide awake.
"Cassion?"
I opened my eyes and searched his face. His long lashes trembled, then his eyelids fluttered up and down. I waved my hand in front of his face, again and again.
"Your Highness, are you awake? Your Highness?"
Tap.
Before he'd even properly opened his eyes, Cassion had caught my wrist. It was only the faintest grip, but knowing he'd recovered enough strength to lift his arm filled me with relief.
"Stop waving your hand… around. It's making me dizzy."
And his mind was perfectly sharp too, apparently. An insult before his eyes had even fully opened.
Is there no medicine in the world that makes a person speak nicely?
I shot him a sidelong glare — but the truth was, I couldn't have resented him less.
After all, I was grateful to him just for opening his eyes.