Raphael, Bedridden
“It’s… it’s fine!”
“Why not? One day without being a Drakan rider won’t hurt. Just ride me instead.”
“I said it’s fine!”
「Grrraaah!」
The Drakan, plump and glossy from good food and play, barely suppressed the urge to scream.
Damn master. Damn dragon. Does he even understand what he’s saying?
Anyway, lovers are the same no matter the era!
A few days after the couple finally united near the capital, laughing and bickering while ignoring the flying Drakan entirely, Capia returned and began pacing a corner of the Imperial Palace.
‘Haa.’
No matter how hard she tried, the vanished holy power would not return. After much deliberation, Capia swallowed the Holy Stone that had been given to her for use during a holy war.
‘It feels heavy.’
The tattered instruction manual, worn from long storage, stated that absorbing all the holy power within the stone could take more than a year.
At best, only about a third of her original holy power had returned. The rest was so little it would likely be absorbed slowly without ever reaching her core before the flow cut off midway.
Even this much was precious, so Capia forced down the nausea rising in her throat.
‘The Duchess of Orleans never came after all. Then…’
“His Imperial Majesty enters!”
Capia quickly lowered her forehead and glanced up. The Plenti Hall, stripped of all tables and chairs, looked far more spacious than before.
She had rushed over the moment she heard there would be a major imperial announcement and that she was permitted to attend.
Soon the Emperor entered, followed by the Crown Prince. The Crown Prince carried a small golden scepter, its radiance so dazzling that Capia stood frozen, staring blankly at it.
Why do I not possess such brilliant light? Does the one chosen and loved by Lord Ciel lack the qualifications that even the human Emperor possesses?
“To the House of Orleans, the right heart of the Empire.”
What?
Startled, Capia turned her gaze toward where the Emperor was looking.
There stood the Duke and Duchess of Orleans, whom she had not even known were present. Beside them was only Marquis Hwiante. Why hadn’t she noticed them?
Instead of panicking, the Saintess quickly devised a plan.
‘They’ll receive no praise because of the gold mine, so I’ll approach after the reprimand ends. If they’re still hesitating, I need to drive the wedge deeper…’
“The House of Orleans has accumulated countless merits and achievements, yet they committed the grave sin of concealing a gold vein and quarreling with the neighboring House of Hwiante. Furthermore! To cover up the disturbance in their provincial territory, they deliberately instigated conflict with the other house right here in the capital.”
Capia held her breath.
Good, this is going well. The more the imperial family presses the Duke of Orleans, the wider the rift will grow. If I aim for that gap, even the impossible will become possible!
“Therefore, the Duke and Duchess of Orleans are hereby forbidden from entering the Imperial Palace for the next five years. In addition, they must not exert any influence on high society through any means. All military actions and participation beyond defending their territory are also prohibited.”
“Hah!”
Someone gasped in shock midway, but the Emperor’s resolute decree continued.
“Should this be violated, the ducal title will be temporarily revoked, reducing them to count, and the title will be restored when the current heir, Sir Raphael, inherits. Five years from now, I shall see you again in this same place.”
“Heh…”
“Oh, dear heavens…”
“However, Raphael of Orleans, a member of the Crow Knight Order, is exempt from the above punishment.”
While the Duke and Duchess of Orleans remained composed, the other nobles gathered in the Plenti Hall cried out in surprise.
A five-year ban from high society was no light punishment. Even though their only son, unrelated to the matter, was spared, it was hardly something to rejoice over.
Without so much as raising an eyebrow, the Emperor announced the next punishment.
“The House of Hwiante shall receive the same level of punishment. Should an emergency arise that threatens the survival of either house, you may enter the Iris Detached Palace at any time to report. With that, I conclude today’s proceedings.”
The moment the Emperor finished speaking, a secretary organized documents and handed them to the imperial servants.
The three high-ranking nobles who each received a document swallowed their groans without a sound.
Even a quick glance revealed that the fines and future measures were far harsher than the punishment the Emperor had publicly declared.
Just as the oblivious Saintess was about to take a step, the Duchess of Orleans, wearing a strangely relieved expression, raised her head and spoke.
“I’m sorry.”
“My lady…! Why would you apologize?”
Such words in a public setting were unwise.
As always, the Duke desperately tried to protect his wife, but she shook her head with a smile.
“My fault was greater, so you ended up here too. I accept everything.”
“Five years is longer than you think. My lady, I’m not suggesting defiance, but I was going to ask that even if we must accept harsher punishment, at least allow us entry into high society. Raphael is of age—would you have him hold a lonely wedding without his parents?”
“I trust Raphael just as I trust you. Soon…”
The Duchess trailed off gently, then offered a wistful smile.
“……”
“Let’s go home for now.”
The Duke of Orleans fell silent the moment Raphael’s name was mentioned. Without leaving any trace of their visit to the palace, they departed.
Seeing them leave this way, Marquis Hwiante had no choice but to depart empty-handed as well.
While the Saintess wandered in search of another target after her failed attempt, Pay stood with wide eyes, receiving an unexpected guest.
She had been asked to come to the palace despite the difficulty because there was something important to say. The message had also mentioned that it would be hard to meet again for a while after today.
The Duchess of Orleans.
‘The one who particularly disliked me.’
The Duchess of Klein was authoritative as well, but the Duchess of Orleans was so rigid that it would not be an exaggeration to say she was etiquette itself molded into human form.
Yet today, the Duchess’s gaze seemed strangely softened.
It felt like déjà vu.
Similar to when she met the changed Maurice, the frozen emotions seemed about to thaw slightly.
Pay buried the past grudges and offered a straightforward greeting.
“…It’s a pleasure to meet you, Duchess of Orleans.”
“I’m glad to see you too, Lady Morgana. I’ve heard a lot about you from Raphael.”
‘Ah.’
Raphael had many people he was ‘one-sidedly’ close with, but to avoid excessive misunderstandings, he tended to keep his distance from noble young ladies of appropriate age.
Exceptions were made for married noblewomen or girls too young to cause concern, but he apparently avoided them like the plague once they reached the age of adolescence.
And Pay fell ambiguously outside that category.
Unmarried, she held a noble title if not a full peerage, possessed moderate authority, yet was somewhat reluctant to be called a perfect lady.
Since the ducal couple had been officially banned from high society, had the Duchess come out of worry for her son wandering the palace alone?
‘I should have worn the ring. Ugh, this is troublesome. It’s embarrassing to spread rumors around the palace that I’m dating Lucius.’
Just as she was worrying about how to navigate this crisis, the Duchess stated her purpose.
“Please. I’d like you to visit our Raphael and check on him.”
“Pardon? Visit him? Sir Raphael?”
Seeing Pay’s widened eyes, the Duchess of Orleans poured out the worries she had been suppressing.
“Lady Morgana, as you are under His Highness the Crown Prince, you must have had some idea that something happened to our family. It may not be directly related, but… our Raphael has fallen ill from heartbreak. I’ve thought about it many times, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask his other friends to visit.”
“Ah…”
“Please.”
It would be awkward for Prince Astain or Cassel to come and go. Even if Raphael was ill, they would feel self-conscious.
Pay tried not to tilt her head as she mulled it over.
‘But has Raphael ever been sick? He was always full of energy even when we went to the Sionel territory. He didn’t even catch a cold after going into the river.’
Pay was willing to bet everything that the Duchess before her would never tell a lie.
There was no reason for her to set up an absurd trap while leaving Pay behind.
“I understand.”
“Thank you. If you go through this back door, a carriage will be waiting. Let’s go separately and meet there.”
‘I’ll be quite late today.’
When she said she would go to the palace alone, Lucius’s face came to mind, his lips protruding a good three inches. He was probably counting the boring seconds until she returned.
Should she inform Sylphid and have a message sent to the Magic Tower?
Pay briefly considered it before abandoning the idea.
If Lucius truly wanted to know her every move, he could do so easily. The fact that he refrained and waited was out of respect for Pay’s decisions and abilities.
He’ll wait. For me.
And surely Raphael wouldn’t fake an illness? Whatever the reason, he must really be sick. If it turns out to be serious once I get there, I’ll ask for help.
She rose and rode the carriage the Duchess of Orleans had prepared, arriving at the ducal residence.
Looking at the main gate of the House of Orleans stirred new emotions.
‘I’m finally entering…’
A place she could barely glimpse, let alone enter, when living as Morgana.
Dot, who had subtly mocked her from behind, saying she couldn’t receive invitations because she wasn’t qualified as an Eina. The Duchess of Klein, who never once spoke up for her against those painful words…
She had intended to come when Raphael held the atonement charity ball, but back then she had entered through the back door to hide the fact that she had come and immediately hid on the second floor.
It was completely different from now, when she entered boldly—even if the carriage bore no family crest.
…I’m doing well. Don’t worry.
Pay offered the greeting to no one in particular, since both were still alive, and headed toward the reception room.
The Duchess, who had arrived earlier, had not yet removed the hat on her head.
“Thank you for coming, Lady Morgana.”
“Is Sir Raphael all right?”
The interior of the main building of the ducal residence was eerily quiet. Though the building was grand and lavishly decorated wherever one looked, the atmosphere had sunk gravely.
Only then did Pay begin to worry about Raphael’s illness.
The Duchess, who had a maid remove her hat, wore a sorrowful expression.
“The doctor examined him. He has a mild fever, but there’s no risk of contagion. That’s why I called you.”
“I’m not afraid of such things.”
There was a preconception—true in fact—that mages who studied water magic extensively lived exceptionally long lives and were resistant to illness. Simply circulating water mana allowed the body to recover little by little.
“…Please. He’s lying down now. He’s conscious but occasionally rambles. No matter what he says, please don’t mind it and encourage him.”
“Yes.”
Without the slightest suspicion, Pay stepped into the bedroom where Raphael lay.
Thud.
After the door closed, the Duchess of Orleans, who had been watching from behind, tightly shut her eyes. The spinel earrings dangling from her ears trembled faintly, mirroring her heart.
Raphael had nothing to do with what I did. To think he’s bedridden like this because he’s keeping the secret I confessed for my own peace of mind! Ah, my poor son.