Chapter 8
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: The Emperor's Hangover
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After the troublemakers by her side vanished, Philomel's daily life went smoothly.
A flawless schedule, the constant stares from others that followed her everywhere, and the terror of not knowing when death might come—those things occasionally choked the breath from her lungs, but she endured somehow.
Fortunately, with the nanny and the old maids gone, her mind was far more at ease. Lady Deless and the new maids knew their places perfectly.
But...
"This isn't enough."
Before breakfast, Philomel muttered to herself as she flipped through a book alone in her room.
The nanny and her cronies were gone, and she was gradually earning recognition from others. That was good. But it was still too soon to relax.
At the very least, until she was old enough to flee on her own, she had to do everything in her power to survive.
Right now, she was just nine years old. A child's body couldn't accomplish much, so the next few years would be tough. But when she finally left the imperial palace, she needed to be able to fend for herself.
'For now, I'm scrimping on my allowance to build up escape funds bit by bit... What else can I do?'
Escape routes?
She had some ideas already, but carrying them out came with a major hurdle.
Earning favor with the Emperor.
There was an item perfect for escaping, but the problem was that it belonged to the imperial family's treasures. Only the Emperor himself—or a successor he recognized—could use it.
"But how do I earn that favor..."
The Emperor had recently started seeing her in a new light, but that alone wouldn't bridge the chasm between them dramatically.
She was occasionally summoned to meals, but their relationship hadn't progressed beyond that.
'Hmm... What now?'
She couldn't abandon the imperial treasure. Nothing else came close.
As she habitually reread Princess Ellensia, Philomel's eyes sparkled.
"That's it!"
Philomel immediately tugged the bell cord to summon Lady Deless, then asked her to fetch a certain item.
Moments later, the countess returned with a vial filled with green powder.
"It's the powder made from grinding the Hangover Herb you mentioned."
"Thank you!"
"Think nothing of it. If I may ask, why do you need Hangover Herb powder? It's usually used as a medicinal ingredient."
"I'm going to brew it into tea and give it to His Majesty."
"...To Emperor Justis?"
"Yes! His Majesty enjoys his drinks, doesn't he? I read in a book that Hangover Herb boiled in water is great for easing hangovers!"
Philomel spoke with wide-eyed innocence, playing the part of a naive child.
From experience, the countess was a kind adult who cherished a child's purity.
"Hmm... I see. His Majesty will surely be delighted by Your Highness's filial heart."
As expected, the countess's expression flickered briefly before she smiled and encouraged her.
"Shall I prepare a teapot and cups as well?"
"Filter paper too, please!"
"Hehe, I'll have them here in a flash."
The moment Lady Deless left the room, Philomel uncorked the vial and brought it to her nose.
"Ugh, the smell!"
A sharp, sour tang filled the air.
That was why the countess had reacted ambiguously when Philomel mentioned giving Hangover Herb tea to the Emperor.
Everyone knew Hangover Herb helped with hangovers, but few chose to drink it the morning after a binge.
Not with its vile stench—and a taste twice as foul.
'But this makes it all good.'
Philomel headed to the safe tucked deep in her room, unlocked it, and pulled out a glass bottle the size of her forearm.
Pale golden liquid sloshed inside. World Tree fruit juice.
Legend had it that mixing it into bitter Hangover Herb tea neutralized the bitterness, making it surprisingly palatable.
It was a happy accident Ellensia had discovered after adding the World Tree fruit juice her father gave her to some Hangover Herb tea.
Born from the simple notion that 'mixing good things together must be even better for you.'
'The real princess really is in a league of her own.'
Philomel smiled wryly.
Thanks to Ellensia, a superior brew was born: the so-called "Special Hangover Herb Tea," far better at curing hangovers than the plain stuff and even restorative to boot.
No one before had dared waste precious World Tree fruit juice on such a nasty brew. Ellensia was essentially its inventor. Of course, Philomel planned to claim it for herself.
'Sorry, Ellensia! You'd thrive without this anyway, so hand it over.'
After mumbling a mental apology, Lady Deless returned.
Philomel brewed the Hangover Herb tea with the filter paper, then carefully scooped golden liquid using a teaspoon.
Precise ratios were key to perfection.
Following the book, she added two spoonfuls. Sweat beaded on the bridge of her nose as she gently stirred.
"Perfect!"
A quick taste confirmed it: mysteriously sweet and downright tasty.
'Ellensia, with your soft heart, you might've given this rare tea to some poor hungover knight. But not me.'
The best gifts go to those in power.
Guided by hard-earned worldly wisdom, Philomel set off straight for the Emperor's bedchamber.
Lady Deless carried the scalding tray, insisting it was too dangerous for her.
Word was, the Emperor had hosted a rare formal banquet with high nobles the night before.
With dinner dragging late, odds were high he'd be nursing a hangover come morning.
On the way, though, Philomel bumped into Count Polan.
After hearing her out, the count's eyes welled up.
"At last, spring blooms between you two...! His Majesty should be stirring soon. This way."
'Hangover's keeping him down, just as I hoped.'
Philomel inwardly cheered as they approached the bedchamber.
The count opened the door and stepped in first.
"Your Majesty, a visitor!"
A groan drifted from the bed.
"...My head's splitting. Don't yell."
Justis sat up, tousled from sleep.
'Now or never!'
Philomel took the tray from Lady Deless and drew near the bed.
"Your Majesty, I hope you're well?"
She offered her painstakingly practiced formal greeting.
Startled by the unfamiliar voice, Justis bolted upright.
"Philomel? What are you doing here?"
"I brought Hangover Herb tea to aid Your Majesty's health. If you'd like, please have some."
Count Polan backed her up from behind.
"Her Highness brewed it herself. Such filial devotion—truly moving, no?"
Justis eyed the steaming cup, his gaunt face paling further at the pungent aroma.
World Tree juice tamed the taste, but not the smell.
'He won't refuse over that, will he?'
Worried, Philomel stepped closer.
"The smell's strong, but the taste..."
Ugh—her face twisted.
'Booze!'
A reek of alcohol poured from him, overpowering even the herb.
Her gaze fell on empty bottles crowding the table. Attendants wouldn't leave old ones out, so these were fresh from last night.
'That much after the banquet?'
Her eyes widened on their own.
"Back off."
Justis recoiled, as if reading her mind.
"But..."
Philomel's arms shook under the tray's weight.
'Too heavy—I can't hold it much longer!'
A child bearing teapot and cups was a stretch.
"...Hand it over."
With a sigh, Justis took the tray and set it on the bed. He glared at the tea like an adversary before draining the cup in one gulp.
"...?"
His furrowed brow eased.
"Not... bad."
Philomel beamed at the expected result.
"See? The World Tree fruit juice took away the bitterness."
"World Tree fruit juice?"
"Yes! The one Your Majesty gave me."
"...I gave it for you to use."
"I'm all better now. But Your Majesty suffers hangovers so often..."
Count Polan piled on.
"For Her Highness's sake, ease up on the drink. Even Your Majesty's iron constitution can't shrug off a decade of that."
"Quiet."
"Her Highness is still so young..."
"I said quiet."
Overhearing them, Philomel pieced together a revelation.
'He's been hitting it hard all these years.'
She hadn't realized; they rarely crossed paths.
'A decade ago, though...'
The year she was born. And Empress Isabella died.
Grieving his wife's death, he'd drowned in drink since. Fine on the surface, ruined within.
An odd feeling stirred in her.
'Wife dead, and his daughter turns out fake too.'
But Philomel shook it off fiercely.
'No pitying him.'
He'd kill her someday. No room for weakness until escape.
"Philomel."
Justis set down the cup, his voice low.
"My head's clear now, thanks to you. Anything you want—name it."
Jackpot!
Just as she'd foreseen.
The Emperor rewarded merit clearly. This good deed earned a wish.
What to ask?
'Too early for that item.'
Then.
After a moment's thought, Philomel voiced her desire.