Bitter Medicine, Sweet Cure
Lefonya was currently facing a dire crisis.
“Ponya. Hurry up.”
Despite the anxious tremor in Rudeum's voice, Lefonya stubbornly refused to open her mouth. She kept her lips firmly pressed together and tried to turn her head away, but he gently caught her chin.
“If you don't take your medicine, I'll worry about you again.”
Meeting her gaze, Rudeum tilted his head with disarming grace, asking in a plaintive, breathless whisper.
This brat.
With every passing day, he was learning all too well how devastatingly effective his handsome face could be, and it was becoming a real problem.
Defeated once again, Lefonya squeezed her eyes shut and parted her lips.
“…Ah.”
The moment her trembling lips parted, Rudeum slipped the spoon smoothly between them. A foul, viscous concoction that was near impossible to swallow spread across her tongue.
“Ugh.”
A nauseating, fishy stench triggered a dry heave, but holding her breath, she forced it down with a heavy gulp.
“Did you swallow it all?”
He must have heard the distinct sound of her swallowing, yet Rudeum gestured with his eyes for her to open her mouth again.
“I ate it all.”
“I have to check.”
Ever since she was caught pretending to swallow only to hold it in her mouth and spit it out later, he had made a habit of checking inside without fail.
Devil.
Even while glaring daggers at him, Lefonya obediently opened her mouth.
Though they claimed it was medicinal herbs good for her health, the stench was genuinely rancid and pungent. Only after a thorough inspection did Rudeum finally relax, a relieved smile gracing his features.
“Good girl, Ponya.”
Seeing her face contorted in sheer disgust, Rudeum chuckled softly and pressed light, teasing kisses to her lips. Then, as if to erase the lingering bitterness from her mouth, he deepened it into a gentle, tender kiss.
Strangely enough, every time his sweet lips brushed against hers, the vile taste that had coated her mouth seemed to vanish into thin air. Soft, lingering sounds of their lips meeting resonated softly throughout the quiet bedchamber.
“Ponya. Can't taste anything bad now, can you?”
Lashes lowered slightly, Rudeum murmured in a low, husky register.
She ought to tell him to cut it out, but miraculously, once he kissed her, nothing remained except sweetness, leaving her without a single word of protest.
“…Mm.”
As Lefonya nodded with a flushed face and averted her gaze, Rudeum chuckled and rested his forehead against hers.
“Let's take it again tomorrow.”
Damn it.
As if her cheeks hadn't just been blushing, Lefonya narrowed her eyes into sharp slits and glared at him.
“Just how long do I have to keep drinking this stuff?! You, Dad, and my brothers—why do you all keep bringing me weird herbs and bizarre tonics claimed to be good for me?!”
If it were only a day or two, she might have endured it, but it had already been nearly a fortnight of ingesting these tasteless, nauseating concoctions that were allegedly 'good for her health.'
The Duke of Craitan had even brought the heart of an elusive, highest-grade demonic beast simply because it was nourishing... No. Better not reminisce about that. Recalling it would make her throw up what she had just swallowed.
“That's because you need to be healthy, Ponya.”
“I am healthy! I'm not sick, so why wouldn't I be healthy?!”
“Right. You are healthy, Ponya. ...The problem is that the Fire Demon never takes your stamina into account.”
Rudeum ground his teeth, looking as though he wanted to rip off the metal bracelet on Lefonya's wrist and smash it to pieces this very second.
The reason things had come to this was simple.
Just as Priest Marcel had explained, in order to wield the power of the Fire Demon, Hwama, Lefonya's body had to possess the physical capacity to endure it. She had known that fact all along. Knowing it, Lefonya had chosen to accept the Fire Demon, and her family had respected her decision. Now that both the Pope and the Empress had been dealt with, she was certain she would never need to draw upon that magnitude of power again, so there seemed to be no reason to worry.
Or so she thought.
“If you hated this so much, Ponya, you shouldn't have collapsed.”
The trouble was that Lefonya had passed out yet again after using the Fire Demon's power.
During the chaotic aftermath when the Empire's Empress and Pope were simultaneously held accountable for their crimes and eliminated, an alliance of minor kingdoms breached the imperial border. Capitalizing on the political turmoil, they intended to push straight to the imperial capital in one swift strike—a rather clever tactical gambit. At the time, the Empire had truly been thrown into disarray, unable to make decisive judgments or properly adapt to the sudden upheaval.
The Emperor ordered the Duke of Craitan and the Spirit Knight Rudeum to secure the borders, kicking off a prolonged campaign to hold the defense lines. Once the two great houses stepped forward, the allied minor kingdoms were swiftly subdued.
If only it had ended there.
Fierce barbarian tribes with formidable combat prowess joined forces with the minor kingdoms, gradually tipping the scales against the imperial forces. And so, Lefonya stepped onto the battlefield.
Her goal was to etch sheer terror into their minds so they would never dare challenge this land again, nor bother her family ever again. She deliberately manifested more magnificent flames, unleashing a more terrifying and searing hellfire from Hwama. She incinerated everything that could burn, and ruthlessly slaughtered every enemy that had to die.
Terrified beyond reason, the minor kingdoms and barbarian hordes fled in panic, while Lefonya collapsed unconscious on the spot.
“I had no idea I would pass out like that either.”
“Priest Marcel said that if your body's physical threshold were expressed as ten, you drew a hundred units of the Fire Demon's energy. Your vessel couldn't endure the strain, so it broke down.”
Why on earth had Priest Marcel been so meticulous and articulate in his explanation?
“So, Ponya, if your body becomes fifty times healthier, you can draw around a hundred units of the Fire Demon's power without any strain.”
Yes. That exact logic was the culprit.
Vowing to overhaul her constitution until she was indestructible, the Duke of Craitan, Habelian, and Pelens had spent every waking day scouring the lands for rare medicinal herbs and restorative delicacies. That part was fine and well.
The problem was that every single thing that was good for her tasted atrocious!
“Seriously, I won't use the Fire Demon's power anymore. Really.”
“No, Ponya. How could I ever tell you not to do what you want? I told you before—you can do whatever your heart desires.”
Rudeum's thumb tenderly wiped her lips. Then, against her cleaned mouth, he pressed another sweet, lingering kiss.
“Whatever is necessary, we'll take care of it.”
No. Please, stop.
“You said you didn't want to seal the family heirloom.”
“I... did say that.”
“Right. And we respect that.”
Rudeum smiled warmly. Just then, two sharp knocks sounded from outside the bedchamber, and before anyone could answer, the door swung wide open.
“Fluffball! Look what your big brother brought you!”
From the unidentifiable lump in Pelens's hand, a thick black sludge dripped steadily—drip, drop—soaking into the plush carpet. A bizarre, pungent stench assaulted her nose mercilessly.
“Let's have this for dinner tonight!”
Dinner was still hours away, yet a throbbing headache was already setting in.
“Ugh... please, no more... Argh, spare me...”
Lefonya groaned miserably and clutched her head in despair.
She had tried her best to dodge it, but with all four men united in singular resolve to prevent her from ever collapsing again, she stood no chance. To keep her from feeling repulsed, everyone ate along with her, which meant Lefonya had no choice but to force down every last scrap of that unidentified ingredient.
Pelens looked bursting with pride, eager to boast about how grueling it had been to obtain it, but Lefonya had placed a strict gag order on him, forbidding him from uttering a single detail.
'If I find out what that actually was, I'll definitely throw up everything.'
After struggling so hard to swallow it, she couldn't afford to throw it back up.
Seeking to soothe her churning stomach, she stepped out into the garden for some fresh air, where Rudeum soon approached.
“Are you alright?”
Rudeum gently stroked her back with concern. As his soothing warmth seeped in, the nausea threatening to overturn her insides seemed to settle slightly.
“Mm-hmm. I'm okay. ...What about you, Rudeum? You ate it with me, after all.”
“I don't know what he hunted down, but it does seem to be good for the body.”
Rudeum let out a low chuckle, effortlessly scooping up the limp, exhausted Lefonya and setting her down upon his lap.
“I really, truly won't throw my power around recklessly anymore.”
“Good. Please keep that promise.”
Wrapping his arms securely around her waist as she sat in his lap, Rudeum rested his forehead against hers.
When Lefonya had collapsed on the battlefield, Rudeum had acted like a man who had completely lost his mind. Knowing that all too well, no matter how much she hated it, she ultimately played along with this health crusade.
“Rudeum.”
Touching his forehead as he leaned against her, Lefonya gently pushed him back a little.
“I think you have a fever.”
“…Me?”
Having never been sick in his life, Rudeum blinked in confusion. His face was flushed far redder than usual.
“Let's head inside for today. It's not good to be out in the cold air when you're unwell.”
Touching his own cheeks several times, Rudeum nodded slowly, set Lefonya down on the bench, and backed away a considerable distance.
“Rudeum? What are you doing?”
“Ponya, I can't risk passing it to you.”
Whenever she was sick, he had stayed glued to her side no matter what, yet now he was retreating simply because his body was running a little warm. The sight soured her mood.
“Come here, Rudeum.”
Her brow furrowed, Lefonya called him closer. Yet Rudeum hesitated, making no move to approach.
It was the very first time he had ever refused to come to her when called, and it irked her to no end.
Biting her lower lip, Lefonya held out both arms.
“Pick me up and carry me to my bedroom.”
Standing at a distance, Rudeum froze.
There was no way in the world he could ever refuse Lefonya when she reached out her arms and asked to be held.
Letting out a heavy sigh of defeat, Rudeum finally crossed the distance toward her.
“Ponya. Sometimes, you really act like someone determined to drive me out of my mind.”