Chapter 9
Chapter 9
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: The Incompetent Minister Wants to Retire
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She quietly gazed down at the board with its pieces placed upon it.
At a glance, it resembled a chessboard, but a closer look would reveal it was entirely different.
In chess, white and black each start with sixteen pieces.
However, the pieces before her numbered at least several dozen. The board itself was incomparably larger than any standard chessboard.
The pieces were already in motion. Her own as well as her opponent's.
She raised her head and glared across at the other side.
There was only an empty chair, no sign of her opponent. Yet her eyes clearly captured his presence.
"……..."
At last, she raised her hand and moved one of her pieces.
Anticipating her opponent's next play while staying on her guard.
"Achoo!"
Damn it all. Am I catching a cold?
I shouldn't have left the window open last night just because it felt a bit stuffy. Who would've thought it would snow overnight.
Thanks to that, I'd felt heavy since waking up this morning, and now the coughing and sneezing wouldn't stop, my nose was stuffed up, and my throat was sore.
At this rate, even I couldn't argue if people called me an incompetent fool who couldn't even take care of himself.
Actually, hadn't they been saying that anyway?
Whatever. The work's already done, and the Intelligence Department runs fine without me. Spreading it to others would just be a nuisance, so I'll head home early today.
With that decided, I started to stand—but a knock at the door forced me back into my seat.
"Minister, I have a report... Minister? Are you all right?"
Celine tilted her head as she stepped inside and saw my face. Probably because my cheeks were flushed from the slight fever.
"I'm fine. What is it?"
"Ah, yes. It's a report about the village in the Empire producing Fairytale. Around midnight last night, a battle broke out between our Intelligence Department agents conducting the investigation and assailants of unknown affiliation."
Assailants of unknown affiliation? Bandits or something?
"This all but confirms the involvement of the third force."
The sudden statement made me rack my brain, fiddling with my fingers as I dredged up memories. Finally, I recalled Celine's report from the recent meeting.
Ah, right. The possibility that the third force, not the Clamor sub-kingdom, was spearheading Fairytale production.
Whatever, Celine will handle it. This is just a procedural report anyway.
"Casualties?"
"The Fairytale being produced in the village and all production equipment had already been destroyed, so there was no significant damage."
That's not what I asked.
This heartless woman.
"I meant our agents' casualties."
"Ah... S-sorry. None of the agents involved in the fight were killed. The injured ones have no life-threatening wounds."
Good.
Hmm. My body's in worse shape than I thought.
Wonder if I can hold out until I get home.
"The assailants' identities are still unknown, but for them to stand against our agents means they're highly skilled. In my opinion, we should deploy the Owls for a full-scale pursuit... Minister?"
Celine was saying something, but it wasn't registering.
This is dangerous. Looks like I need to head back soon...
Ah.
I face-planted into the desk.
"Minister? Minister!"
Her voice calling me faded like a distant echo, and my consciousness cut out there.
Celine panicked at the sight of the Minister suddenly collapsing onto his desk.
Even so, she rushed to him on instinct, propping up his slumped form and cradling him in her arms.
He's burning up...!
His body felt like a lump of fire. Blood was pouring from his nose besides.
A single word flashed through her mind.
Death.
A subject attached itself.
The Minister's death.
No... No...!
Celine felt terror.
Terror more overwhelming than any emotion she'd ever known.
"S-someone! Anyone! Is there no one out there? Anybody, come quick! Please...!"
A few people rushed into the Minister's office at the sound of Celine sobbing like a child.
Panic spread instantly.
Some froze in place, others trembled like aspen leaves, and one even fainted at the impossible sight. The Intelligence Department quickly devolved into chaos.
But even in the mayhem, some kept their wits.
The level-headed staff and agents hurried out to fetch a doctor while forcibly prying the Minister from Celine and laying him on the desk.
Soon after, the doctor arrived—carried in by Intelligence agents, no less.
All eyes focused on the doctor as he was hauled in like luggage and began a thorough examination of Erwin.
Minutes ticked by as they watched, barely breathing.
The doctor finally spoke.
"Fainting due to severe overwork. Plenty of rest, and he'll recover on his own."
Sighs of relief echoed everywhere.
It wasn't minor by any means, but knowing it wasn't fatal brought immense comfort.
After prescribing precautions and medicine to aid recovery, the doctor left, and the Minister was transported to his residence.
Everyone clamored to guard or nurse him, but while the former was allowed, the latter was blocked by Celine.
"Too many people would be bad for the Minister. I alone am enough as his nurse."
Protests flew, of course.
Someone suggested rotations as a compromise, but Celine vetoed it all with her authority as his secretary, as always.
In the end, over three times the usual guard detail was assigned to his home, and Celine took sole charge of nursing.
Having monopolized the nursing role through near-overreach, Celine's first act alone with the unconscious Minister was to undress him.
This is just nursing. He was covered in blood and sweat, so no choice.
Muttering endless excuses to herself, she stripped him bare.
She nearly cheered when she removed his underwear but suppressed the rising desire with iron will, focusing on care.
After wiping him down "every nook and cranny" with a warm, damp cloth, she felt a twinge of regret but dressed him properly without further ado.
Only after placing a cool cloth on his forehead and tucking him in did she truly register she was in the Minister's home.
The Minister keeps a tidy house even at home, huh.
Under the pretext of needing to know where everything was for nursing, Celine poked around everywhere.
Agents occasionally entered for protection duty, but she'd never had reason to, so everything felt fresh and exciting.
Now Christina can't tease me for never having been inside the Minister's house.
She'd bragged after her one forced entry on guard duty, and it had grated.
But now things were different.
She'd wiped his body and changed his clothes—she was in the lead. Celine was certain.
He might wake up hungry, so maybe I should whip up something simple.
Standing in the kitchen with that thought, she idly imagined marrying the Minister and living together like this, feeling a mix of shame and bliss at her sacrilegious fantasy.
Unfortunately, her happy reverie didn't last.
"Minister!"
An intruder burst in like she meant to break down the door.
"Minister! Where's the Minister?! Is he okay?!"
She'd warned the guards to let no one in, but they couldn't stop an Owl member.
Christina, who'd rushed over after hearing late from her mission, drew Celine's admonishment.
"Christina, shh! Be quiet! What if you wake the Minister?"
"Ah, s-sorry. So, where's the Minister...?"
"He's sleeping. So..."
"Erwin!"
The door flew open again.
Seeing Francesca barge in uninvited, Celine thought:
I'll suggest to the Minister later that we fire all these useless guards.
When I finally pried my hazy eyes open, hell awaited.
"Minister!"
"Minister!"
"Erwin!"
I saw my competent but not-close secretary, the strong but scary woman, and the kind but annoying acquaintance all peering down at me.
"……..."
I closed my eyes again.
Sleepy.
Back to sleep.
"His fever's down some. He seems fine now, so you all can go."
Celine shooed them like pests, irritating Christina.
"You should be the one leaving, Celine. No combat skills, and you've got work tomorrow?"
"Guards are outside, aren't they? And what does combat have to do with nursing? Has your brain turned to muscle too?"
She explained that his superhuman pace left room for days off.
"What if an emergency hits and the Intelligence Department's control tower is all out?!"
"Handle it from here then. Besides, can you even nurse? You can't even boil water."
"I-I can make that much!"
Francesca, who'd been watching, raised her hand.
"As Knight Captain, I have the strength to protect him. As a countess's daughter, I learned cooking from bride lessons. So I stay, you two go—problem solved?"
The dogfight began.
They argued who was best suited, but with no yielding, they settled on nursing by role.
Even then, overlapping territories sparked fights—until his stirring at the noise brought a sliver of reason. They drew lots.
"I'll cook. Christina cleans. Francesca does laundry. Satisfied?"
"...Fine."
"...No choice."
Fuming at losing cooking—the best direct appeal—but cleaning and laundry were for him too, so they accepted and focused.
Then Christina found something.
"Huh? Wh-who's this woman?!"
"Woman?"
"A woman?"
Drawn by the word, Francesca and Celine joined Christina, staring at the portrait she held.
It was the portrait of some woman.