LP 1.15 The New Servant

He lightly pushed a cup toward him, and Kosha reflexively took it. An unidentified dark green liquid sloshed thickly inside. It smelled of herbs, and no particular toxicity was detected. When he cautiously raised his eyes, a pair of grayish-blue eyes were gazing at him as if urging something.

Should he drink it? …It seemed so. After gauging the situation, Kosha hesitantly brought the cup to his lips.

Despite the cup’s weight, the liquid inside seemed like it would be gone in just a few sips. But if there had been any more, he probably wouldn’t have been able to finish it.

“Ugh…”

A groan escaped him involuntarily. It tasted truly awful. Bitter and astringent… The sensation was as if his lips were curling back to his gums, making Kosha grimace. Suppressing the urge to vomit by forcing down his throat, Lucian asked.

“What did you think it was?”

He was leaning against the armrest of his chair, chin propped on his hand, staring intently at Kosha. Kosha was utterly flustered.

“Wasn’t it given to me to drink?”

“You drink whatever you’re given?”

Unable to keep up with the follow-up question, Kosha just blinked blankly. So, he shouldn’t have…? Observing Kosha’s bewildered expression with a peculiar look, Lucian stared at him.

“What if it had been poison?”

“Huh? It didn’t seem to be…”

Had he failed to sense it? Kosha looked down at the cup with startled rabbit eyes. Simultaneously, Lucian’s eyes narrowed slightly. Ah…. He let out a low hum.

“You can tell if something is poisoned?”

“…Only strong ones.”

Strictly speaking, it was less about detecting poison and more akin to a Mage briefly foreseeing imminent misfortune.

A Mage raised in comfort could probably distinguish even weak toxins that might cause a stomachache…. But for an unfortunate Mage whose life had been such that a bit of abdominal pain or indigestion didn’t even register as misfortune, distinguishing only those potent enough to cause instant death was the best he could do.

But explaining all that was complicated, so Kosha simply agreed. Lucian raised one eyebrow.

“Must be convenient.”

Was it convenient?

Well, not exactly… But it was reasonably useful for distinguishing edible from inedible mushrooms in the forest, so Kosha nodded vaguely again.

After observing Kosha for a moment as if sizing him up, Lucian soon waved his hand as if to lighten the mood and let out a low laugh.

“Of course, it wasn’t poisoned. Hmm, that’s just a headache remedy. Originally mine.”

“……”

“Tastes that bad?”

He asked again, looking at Kosha, who was pursing his lips.

At that moment, Kosha was only wondering why on earth he had suddenly made him drink a headache remedy. Interpreting the silence in his own way, Lucian picked up something from the opposite bedside table.

It was a thin porcelain dish about the size of a palm. Judging by the gilded edges, it seemed to be from the south. On it were piled small, round, colorful things.

Their shapes and colors varied, but they all gave off a sweet scent. And at the bottom of the concave dish, a pile of white powder lay like snow. Good heavens, sugar. Kosha’s eyes widened. He hadn’t seen such a precious thing since he was very young.

“Have one.”

This time, it was a clear invitation. Kosha’s fingers wandered, unsure what to do.

Sugar was produced only in specific regions of the south, and even that yield was highly dependent on the weather each year, making it extremely rare. The sparkling candies looked like jewels, making him almost afraid to touch them.

“What, can’t decide?”

“Ah, um.”

“That one should do.”

He gestured with his chin. A pale yellow candy on top caught his eye.

Hesitating, Kosha carefully picked it up with his fingertips. Putting it in his mouth and rolling it around with his tongue, it crumbled and melted from the surface, spreading a sweet flavor throughout.

Just as Kosha slightly frowned at the slight tartness clinging to the tip of his tongue.

“You’re really obedient.”

“……”

“Your parents must have had it easy.”

Kosha was flustered again. Parents? Suddenly?

“Oh, right. Your name… what was it again?”

Clack, as he set the dish down, Lucian trailed off.

Of course, he already knew the name. What he now held openly in his hand was the investigation report on the Mage’s personal details he had demanded be submitted within two days just a while ago. It contained almost all the information they could gather in a short time, and Lucian had even read the document about twice over before the Mage arrived.

But there was a certain significance to introducing oneself directly.

“…Kosha.”

“Ah, Kosha.”

He smiled softly. Kosha once again hoped that when he said his name, he might remember him—that Kosha who had once given him flowers—but…

“Is that your real name?”

Instead, a question followed. Seemingly unexpected, Kosha stared blankly with his mouth open before nodding with an awkward expression.

“Yes.”

“Aha… Unique. Did your parents give it to you?”

“No. Tha—”

“Tha?”

“…My aunt.”

His voice grew faint. Lucian’s eyes narrowed.

“Aunt? What about your parents?”

“They’re not here.”

Hmm…. Lucian let out a low hum. Information about his parents was one of the gaps in this investigation document. Of course, in a remote village like Allohen, resident registration wasn’t strictly managed, so it wasn’t that strange for there to be no records of family members at all…

But a Mage is determined solely by bloodline. At least one parent must have been a Mage, and a Mage’s death isn’t something that happens so easily. If the aunt was alive, was the maternal line magical?

“Where is your aunt now?”

“She passed away. After coming to Osterbick… she had a chronic illness from before.”

“I see…”

Lucian uttered a detached sigh. He had been keenly scanning a few of the empty sections in the reported materials before turning his gaze aside. The Mage, stiffened to a pitiful degree, came into view. His already pale skin looked even more pallid.

If you stripped him, cold sweat was probably running down his spine…

“Why so tense? I was just asking a few questions. Hmm. Trying to get to know you.”

Since we’ll be seeing each other often, we need to get a bit closer, right? Waving his hand and mimicking a gentle voice, the Mage’s cheeks flushed red.

Ah, easy. He chuckled inwardly and gestured with his chin toward the candy dish he had set down.

“Have another one. That one, the green one.”

The Mage obediently picked the candy he indicated and put it in his mouth. The tension-filled expression visibly softened bit by bit with the sweetness of the sugar.

“Well, enough getting acquainted for now… Shall we talk about our business?”

“Ah.”

Finally, facing the long-awaited topic, a faint flush momentarily colored Kosha’s face.

“Let’s get this straight first. Can you solve it?”

Lucian asked abruptly. At that, Kosha hesitated briefly.

The three days of neglect, and then the dozens of thought experiments repeated over the next day and a half, flashed through his mind again.

The answer flowed out more decisively than expected.

“…Yes.”

“Really?”

“Yes. But, um, I plan to change the method. I won’t make more potion.”

Kosha recited the words he had refined over dozens of thought experiments like an automaton.

After all, ‘detoxification’ of a magic potion ultimately means removing the residual mana from the body. It doesn’t necessarily have to be resolved through internal neutralization. For example, by pushing in overwhelmingly more mana than what remains to shatter the residue…

“…So, if I do that, that elixir too, the mana in it ultimately belongs to me, you see. Um, everything originally tends to return to where it came from. So the residual mana will eventually return to me… Yes, that’s what I think.”

He diligently finished the lengthy explanation, but the listener seemed indifferent. Kosha wondered if his explanation was perhaps too esoteric for a non-Mage.

“Hmm, well, fine. I trust you’ll work hard.”

After finishing the explanation, Lucian, who had been still for a while, slowly opened his mouth. He glanced out the window before looking back at Kosha.

“I’d like to talk more, but I don’t have any more time today. Let’s start in earnest from tomorrow. Anything you need or are curious about?”

Here, Kosha hesitated a little. It didn’t seem like the right atmosphere to bring it up, but…

“…Um, home.”

“……”

“Can I… go home? Not every day, but… occasionally.”

“Home?”

The returned question was sharp.

“Is your current situation such that you can commute comfortably?”

“It’s just, there are the geese. I’m a gooseherd.”

“You’re not a gooseherd.”

Something blade-like cut off Kosha’s faltering words. It was merciless. Kosha unconsciously hunched his shoulders and bit his lip.

“You’re a Mage.”

“……”

“Aren’t you?”

“…Yes.”

“Right.”

Lucian’s voice, which had turned sharp for a moment, softened again.

“Of course, we’ll compensate you generously for the geese. Once everything is finished.”

“…Yes, I understand.”

“Glad you understand quickly. You may go now.”

Lucian gestured. He then casually picked up a candy and put it in his mouth, flipping through the document in his hand. He now seemed completely disinterested in Kosha.

Kosha slowly rose from his seat. His heart kept beating anxiously. The desire to just obediently follow orders without getting into trouble surged like a chimney, but at the same time, a nagging problem kept rattling in a corner.

The deliberation was intense, and time was short.

…In the end, he decided to muster courage just once.

“Um, Your Highness.”

Lucian looked up at Kosha. His gaze seemed languid.

“Well, you see. I was wondering if you have a headache.”

At the somewhat abrupt question, Lucian lightly frowned. His pronunciation was a bit muffled from the candy in his mouth.

“Why?”

“…Um, I can, a little.”

How should he explain? He wasn’t usually eloquent, and he even thought he might be chased out before finishing the explanation. But…

Kosha faltered, then stretched out his arm. The distance was close; just a slight reach was enough. Lucian didn’t have enough time or space to lean back.

His fingertips touched somewhere between Lucian’s well-shaped eyebrow and temple. No, it was closer to a brush than a touch. But that was enough. A zing—an alien sensation passed between skin and skin.

Lucian’s hand reflexively grabbed the thin wrist. Their gazes tangled in the air near that wrist. Kosha was the first to speak.

“It should feel a bit better.”

“…What?”

“Your headache.”

In a faint voice, Kosha mumbled. Then, as if thinking of something, he quickly added.

“It just helps relieve tension, it’s nothing strange. Things like this are simple, mana doesn’t remain in the body or anything. So there are no side effects. I’ve used it a few times before too…”

“……”

“But, if any problem arises, I’ll come right away. Of course, of course.”

He spoke earnestly, but no answer came. Kosha fidgeted, shifting his gaze here and there, before finally taking a slight step back with his right foot, bending his knee, and bowing very politely. Then he stealthily backed away and slipped out of the room.

There was no objection throughout the entire process. Lucian, who had been watching Kosha as if observing him, seemed either speechless or simply lost in thought.

Opening the large, heavy door alone required almost his entire body weight. Struggling, Kosha barely escaped the room and, as the door closed, slid down to the floor with a thud.

Seems he was too tense.

Was the last part too presumptuous? But… ever since he heard that what he drank was a headache remedy, it kept bothering him. If he had just left, it would have weighed on his conscience.

As he sat catching his breath for a moment, a heavy shadow fell over him. Looking up, he saw a face that had become somewhat familiar since the day before yesterday. So the name was… probably, Eydrick.

“Are you alright?”

He nonchalantly grabbed Kosha’s forearm and pulled him up in one swift motion. Dragged up flailing, Kosha sniffled and brushed off his clothes. Eydrick, who seemed to hesitate for a moment, asked again.

“About going home… did you ask?”

This taciturn young knight was as proper as his incredibly aristocratic name suggested.

He had seen Kosha anxious for two days, asked the reason, and was also the one who, upon hearing the cautiously mentioned story about the geese, advised him to try bringing it up to His Highness. Of course, he added that it likely wouldn’t be possible.

When Kosha awkwardly smiled and shook his head instead of answering, Eydrick averted his gaze with an uncomfortable expression. Then, as if thinking of something, he cautiously added.

“His Highness sometimes… expresses himself strongly. Please don’t take it too much to heart.”

At that, Kosha blinked. Lucian? Even if he expressed himself strongly…

Above all, he hadn’t said anything particularly harsh. Perhaps this young knight, being of high status and raised delicately, hadn’t heard many strong expressions.

Anyway, by Kosha’s standards, Lucian was sufficiently polite and gentle. About home… it was an unavoidable matter.

Who would believe him and simply send him home? Even he wouldn’t send himself. Kosha tried hard to console himself.

Maybe he shouldn’t have brought up the geese after all.

Suddenly, he felt a bit uneasy and gloomy. He just hoped the geese were safe, even if it meant all the remaining grain sacks were torn open.

---

The meeting that morning had been arranged somewhat hastily, outside the schedule.

And when he arrived at the audience hall in the main tower, cursing as he forcibly carved out the insufficient time, and encountered the King’s eldest son—who normally never emerged from his chambers in the morning—he could vaguely guess the agenda of this sudden meeting.

Beside Bastian sat the King’s secretary, pretending innocence.

This long hall, located at the heart of the royal castle, was originally intended for official state council meetings, but the throne placed on the innermost dais was empty.

In front of the throne, two long tables were placed symmetrically on either side of a central passage paved with red terracotta tiles. Heavy, angular chairs—six per table—faced each other, their occupants varying with era and generation.

Basically, the King’s secretary, the head of the Treasury, and the head of the Throne Court each occupied one seat, while the lords of autonomous territories and term-limited tribunes usually filled the remaining seats.

Of course, not all seats were always filled. Just today, as the meeting was somewhat hastily arranged, only seven people were seated. However, as each brought about ten or so retainers and attendants, the air inside the council chamber was a bit stifling.

State council meetings where the King failed to maintain control easily became disjointed.

Lucian habitually checked outside the window. But this hall, following the fashion from when the castle was first built, had crude window bars fitted with stained glass of all colors, creating a garish pattern. Aesthetics aside, it was impossible to gauge the outside situation or even the time.

Still, normally he would have pretended to listen and gone along with the flow, but…

“Let’s think about this sensibly, Duke Aramore.”

Lucian, who had remained silent until now, spoke up. Tired and angry gazes gathered.

“It says three thousand infantry and two thousand archers. Do you know how much money it takes to mobilize that? Not a rough estimate, specifically.”

Justifications, gains, conscription, commanders—those were actually secondary issues.

At the bluntly pointed-out tone, Bastian’s face flushed red, visible even in the dim light. Of course, it couldn’t be due to the cheap wine oxidizing untouched.

In Lucian’s opinion, the King’s eldest son had been raised too delicately, contrary to his appearance.

Well, not everyone lives according to their looks. Unconsciously, Lucian recalled a certain Mage who looked as if he must have been raised very delicately but had in fact grown up in great misfortune, and continued speaking.

“Are you saying you’ll raise all that money through taxation, and overnight at that?”