Red-Eye Mana Overexposure Syndrome
Shurian fished a lollipop from her inner pocket and slipped it between her lips.
What a lovely time of life.
She and Jester had been just like that once, back in their own heated youth. And now the young lady who had arrived in the North was burning with the very same fever.
The object of it... well, our Grand Duke.
To get a clearer picture, Shurian closed her notebook and began putting a few questions to Cecilia.
"Hmm. First symptom is that your face flushes bright red..."
"Yes."
"Second is a racing, pounding heart. Is that right?"
"Yes. That's right."
"And third—every last one of these symptoms appears the moment you picture His Grace's red eyes?"
"...Yes. Ah, and also..."
Cecilia's cheeks were already blooming scarlet, her heart hammering so hard she could barely breathe. She looked up at Shurian in genuine distress.
"This illness... is there no cure? Am I... going to die like this?"
She couldn't. Not yet. She hadn't even managed to give the Roeyental Duke Family—or Victor—any real help. To die now would be unthinkable.
I don't want that... not like this.
The memory of Victor's worried red eyes rose unbidden, and Cecilia's breath hitched.
"Ahh... my heart... it's too much..."
Oh my.
Severe. The first, unrecognized love of a young lady who had never been taught what love even was. It was a terrifying thing to witness.
Shurian clicked her tongue at the Roeyental family's educational methods. Teaching a girl nothing whatsoever about romance?
Or maybe that was deliberate. In the capital, any hint of such feelings could shake the entire court. Perhaps they scrubbed every trace of it from her upbringing on purpose.
Either way, the problem remained: how to treat this greenhouse orchid who had been raised in such perfect isolation. At the same time, the knowledge that she now had a delightful new diversion for the foreseeable future pulled a mischievous curve onto Shurian's lips.
I could just connect them directly, but where's the fun in that? She's spent her whole life in a gilded cage. If I solve her first fever of the heart this easily, she'll lose one of the most entertaining stories of her future.
With solemn, deliberate strokes, Shurian began writing something in her notebook—making absolutely certain Cecilia could see every word. Stern. Grave. Utterly serious.
"The illness you are suffering from, my lady, is a rare and deadly endemic disease found only in the North. Of that I am certain."
"What?! W-what sort of disease is it?"
"Its name is Red-Eye Mana Overexposure Syndrome."
"Red-Eye Mana Overexposure Syndrome... what in the world is that? Is it very dangerous?"
"Extremely. Left untreated, the blood rushes permanently to the face. You freeze that way forever—looking exactly like a bright red apple."
Cecilia swallowed hard, staring at her.
Shurian fought down the laughter threatening to burst free and continued with a perfectly straight face.
"And you said that merely imagining His Grace's red eyes makes your heart thrash about, yes?"
"Yes."
Cecilia nodded so vigorously her cheeks jiggled. She clutched both sides of her face as though terrified they might solidify into permanent crimson. The sight was pure, wide-eyed baby rabbit.
Hold it together, Shurian. Think sad thoughts... sad thoughts...
Maternal instinct roared up so fiercely she nearly swept the girl into her arms then and there. Instead she pinched her own thigh hard enough to bruise and forced the overflowing affection back down.
"Haaa. Since you've contracted this illness properly—no incubation period required—even the mere thought of His Grace's voice or face will now..."
"Ugh. It's... it's really happening. What do I do? Is there a cure? Any cure at all?"
"Sadly, there is no medicine for this disease. However."
"However?"
"There is a way to overcome it by building up your immunity. Now then—the most important step for increasing that immunity is..."
"Is...?"
Cecilia gazed up at her like a drowning woman who had just spotted her savior. The moment she heard Shurian's prescription, she rose from her seat as though her soul had left her body and drifted out of the room.
"Haaa... what a wonderful age to be."
Shurian watched her go with pure fondness. Then the door opened again and Jester stepped inside. She stood at once and melted into his arms.
"Shurian? What's brought on this sudden affection?"
"Mmm. Nothing... snff... ahh, you smell so good."
"Is that so?"
Jester found his wife's rare display of clinginess thoroughly charming and patted her back with gentle amusement.
I was sitting in my office, staring blankly at the problem Jester had set me, when a knock sounded at the door.
"Your Grace. Lady Cecilia has arrived."
"Show her in."
The face that entered carried the grim resolve of a general marching to war.
"My lady, is something the matter? Your complexion—"
My words had barely left my mouth when Cecilia's shoulders gave a visible shudder. She sucked in a huge breath and clutched at her chest as though in agony.
Don't tell me her mana is running wild?
I rose and started toward her. She immediately took a step back, retreating from me.
"My lady, you look unwell. Let me see your face properly."
So I can check you and do something about it. If you go into full mana overload in here, we're all dead!
"Hic!"
Her face was as red as a ripe tomato. Blood flooding upward from mana instability?
"My lady. Breathe with me. Slow, steady breaths. In... out... in... out. Come on."
"In... out... in... ou—?!"
"There, better n—"
"I... I..."
"My lady?"
"I'LL TAKE MY LEAVE!!!"
Bang!!!
Cecilia wrenched the door open and fled. Ruche poked her head around the frame, watching the vanishing figure with wide eyes.
"Uh... why is the lady acting like that?"
"...This is dangerous."
"Pardon?"
"I need to contact the Northern Mage Association at once! The lady is in a critical—"
"There's no need for that, Your Grace."
"Hm? Shurian?"
The resident physician of the Walterheim Estate strolled in with her arm linked through Jester's. Ruche's face went scarlet.
"Ugh... Mom, Dad, you two are so embarrassing..."
"Oh my. Isn't a husband and wife showing their love a beautiful sight?"
"Your mother is right, Ruche. Look—decades later and she's still this adorable."
"And you're just as dashing as the day I first met you."
"Blech..."
Ruche turned away looking distinctly unwell. I ignored the parental display and focused on Shurian.
"What do you mean there's no need?"
"It's a sickness of the heart, Your Grace."
"A sickness... of the heart?"
"Until now she's never had anyone she could truly trust. The faith you gave her has thrown her into turmoil. It's called Target Trust Obsession Disease."
"...And that is a real illness?"
Author-san, what kind of world did you even create?
"Oh yes. The only treatment is repeated contact with the person who inspired that trust, building up immunity until the symptoms subside."
Shurian popped a fresh lollipop into her mouth and grinned.
"So from now on, Your Grace, you'll need to meet Lady Cecilia at least once a day to help her build that immunity. Understood?"
"...Once a day. Is that absolutely necessary?"
"Yes."
Her tone left no room for argument. I pressed my fingers hard against my temple.
"Very well. If the Walterheim physician says so, it must be true."
"Of course~ Right, dear~?"
"Ahem. What a wonderful age."
Following Shurian's prescription—daily contact to raise immunity—I arranged to begin each morning with tea in the greenhouse of the Walterheim Estate, Cecilia and I alone.
"Mmm..."
"..."
She sat with her head bowed so low she refused to meet my eyes. My temples were already throbbing.
This is a problem. Treating this disease means I have to make contact with her somehow. If we leave it untreated...
Cecilia's mana goes berserk~ the North burns to ash~ I take the fall and rot in a dungeon~ the North is finished.
"That cannot be allowed."
"Pardon?"
She lifted her head at the sound of my muttering, glanced at my face for the briefest second, then immediately dropped her gaze again and began dodging my eyes.
"Haaa. My lady."
"...Yes, Your Grace."
"Shurian said avoiding my gaze will stall any progress in the treatment."
"I know... but... but..."
Her trembling voice was thick with fear. The sight of it was almost painful.
Dragged north by a contract into a land she's never known, only to catch a northern endemic she's never even heard of.
In any world that wasn't a romance fantasy, she would have been an ordinary young lady who simply received the love she deserved.
"My lady."
I called her name as gently as I could.
"...Yes?"
"Look at me."
She raised her head. Flushed cheeks, scarlet ears, and those trembling violet eyes came into view.
"Slowly."
"..."
"We'll take this slowly. Don't worry. I keep my promises. Until the day you leave my protection, I will keep you safe."
"Ah."
A tiny, almost soundless gasp, and she looked away again.
"My lady."
"I... think I'll retire for today."
"...As you wish."
"Thank you, Your Grace..."
I watched her slip out of the greenhouse and exhaled a long breath of relief. Slowly. Yes—slowly we would treat this. And on the day she finally left, she would no longer be a villainess or a world-destroying witch. Just an ordinary young woman.
Back in her room, Cecilia buried her face in her pillow and replayed Victor's words.
Until the day you leave my protection, I will keep you safe.
She hugged the pillow tightly and murmured with a bitter little smile,
"The day I leave..."
Yes. That had been the contract from the start. The day the North and the Roeyental Duke Family recovered their strength, Cecilia would leave the Walterheim Estate—leave the North entirely. Nothing more than a relationship of mutual usefulness under one roof.
"Then why do you keep approaching me so kindly?"
Behind that blunt, cold exterior lay a gentle side he rarely showed. A declaration that he would protect whatever he had taken under his wing until the end. An offer of his own precious time if it was required for her treatment.
"Ugh."
There it was again. Heart pounding, face burning hot. She rose, threw open the window, and let the wind wash over her, but the fever showed no sign of breaking.
"...Lan."
"Yes, Lady Cecilia!"
"I'd like to go for a walk. Would that be all right?"
"I'll prepare everything at once!"
If she could just push the thoughts of Victor filling her head somewhere else for a little while, perhaps the symptoms would ease. Cecilia climbed into the carriage.
"Where shall we go?"
"Somewhere quiet and secluded would be nice."
"Then let's head to Silver Leopard Lake! The flowers that bloom only there always clear the heart!"
Lan beamed and gave the coachman directions.
"Understood. Leave it to me."
When knights in black armor approached the carriage, Cecilia opened the window and shook her head.
"It's only a short outing. There's no need for the knights to accompany us."
"But my lady..."
"We were ordered by His Grace to protect—"
"It's fine. I have Lan with me, and I can look after myself well enough."
The Black Knights reluctantly let her go. Far in the distance, someone watched the carriage leave the Walterheim Estate—though neither passenger inside knew it. The wheels turned, carrying them steadily toward their destination.