LP 1.11 The New Servant

The fresh wound from last night. The slap to the cheek had only left a slight swelling, but from forcing something excessively large into his mouth, the corners of his lips had torn a little.

“No. I, um. I don’t usually do that.”

“You don’t usually do it?”

Kosha did his best to choose his words carefully, though by Lucian’s standards, it was at an infuriatingly slow pace.

“It’s just that I, well, I’m not very good at magic. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t…. So I usually don’t do it much.”

“…….”

“Um, so, about that, it might be because of that, a mana control issue, that caused the problem. And I thought about it, since I don’t know how much of that potion Your Highness consumed, that could also be an issue. But, I swear, I didn’t intentionally do a poor detoxification or anything like that. I really thought everything went well…. I’m sorry, Your Highness. But still, even if you don’t trust me, I’ll, um, somehow try again…”

Without even making proper eye contact, he rambled on with something that was neither an excuse nor an explanation, when a faint, stifled laugh was heard. Kosha cautiously glanced up. Lucian’s expression was somehow strange.

“Ah.”

“……?”

Sorry. Lucian waved his hand dismissively, offering an insincere apology. What on earth? Kosha, who had been earnestly reciting his prepared speech, lost his train of thought and just blinked.

“You’ve been sitting here thinking about that all this time?”

That wasn’t all he’d been thinking about…. But when he nodded anyway, Lucian’s expression grew even stranger. Something that was neither a smile nor a frown, but somewhere in between.

“I see. Well.”

“…….”

“It’s a relief that you’ve been thinking. A reflective attitude is commendable.”

Lucian brazenly prattled on while observing the other’s complexion. The Mage… blinked for a moment, then slowly bowed his head just once.

This guy’s not just a fool. Lucian shrugged his shoulders and rose from his seat.

“Hmm, well then… let’s leave it at that. Shall we see each other again this evening?”

Suddenly? Kosha, who still had plenty of prepared words and questions left, was taken aback.

Regardless, Lucian pretended not to notice and left the room. He walked toward Mylotte, who had been waiting outside, stamping his feet impatiently, and lowered his head, speaking in a hushed voice.

“Just detain him.”

“…….”

“You handle the rest of the necessary interrogation.”

I can’t stand how frustrating he is. He added that while patting Mylotte’s shoulder as if encouraging him. Whether Mylotte looked back and forth between the room and Lucian with bewilderment or not, he too had lost the entire previous night and had many other matters to attend to.

Matters far more urgent and important than that pathetic fellow.

---

Even though he said they’d meet in the evening, Kosha couldn’t catch even a glimpse of Lucian’s shadow for the next three days straight.

After Lucian left that day, it was Mylotte who came next. He, whose hairline had already begun to recede, making his age hard to guess, asked Kosha a few simple questions. Mostly about family, age, and hometown.

Kosha answered everything truthfully to the best of his ability.

Next, Mylotte brought clothes. Judging by their appearance, they seemed to be items issued to servants.

“You probably won’t have much reason to wander around on your own, but still, to avoid trouble for both sides, it’s better not to stand out, right? Fortunately, this place is crawling with servants.”

“…Am I staying here?”

When Kosha cautiously asked back, Mylotte made a face as if it were obvious.

“Well, of course. Did you think you’d happily go home while His Highness is in that state?”

For Kosha, it wasn’t that he wanted to go home; he just wanted to ask if he could continue staying in this fairly clean-looking accommodation…. Anyway, it seemed he wouldn’t be sent back to that prison-like place from before, so he decided to stay put.

“And, let’s do something about that hair. I don’t know how it is in that rural backwater, but no one here goes around looking like that. Wash your face too.”

Mylotte, who seemed to ponder for a moment, waved his hand with a troubled expression as if it were utterly hopeless.

The traces from the previous night, tear stains, saliva, all sorts of bodily fluids, and the dust that had accumulated on the floor of that long-unused secret room, were still caked all over his face. Kosha obediently nodded. He had no intention of provoking anyone over such trivial matters.

However, when Kosha finally tidied his hair enough for his eyes to be visible and thoroughly washed his face, Mylotte’s reaction wasn’t very good.

“Not standing out…”

He started to say, then stared at Kosha’s face for a long while before letting out a deep sigh and rubbing his own face dry.

“It can’t be helped. Let’s just agree that you absolutely must not wander around recklessly. Understood?”

Though he didn’t know why Mylotte was suddenly threatening him, Kosha, who had no intention of wandering around an unfamiliar place anyway, obediently nodded again.

And even when Mylotte left the room muttering things like ‘Too conspicuous, way too conspicuous,’ Kosha still thought he would soon meet Lucian and resolve the problems caused by the Love Potion—or whatever it was, he himself no longer knew what that drug had been.

So Kosha waited quietly.

For a full three days.

No, even so, this is a bit much, isn’t it? By that point, even Kosha began to feel a sense of crisis. Did he perhaps forget I’m here? Is Lucian alright? More importantly, what about my geese?

He sprang to his feet three or four times, thinking he couldn’t just stay like this. He agonized a hundred times over whether to knock on the door and call for a guard. He was held back a hundred times by the thought of facing that rude and terrifying guard who had threatened to slit his throat if he caused trouble.

What ultimately made him decide he had to get out somehow was that the meal which usually arrived at the same time had completely stopped coming.

No matter how scary the jailer was, he couldn’t starve to death here. And above all, Kosha had geese he was responsible for….

That said, it wasn’t like he had made any grand resolution. He just intended to, well, try jiggling the doorknob a bit.

The moment his hand touched the doorknob, a prickling sensation stimulated his fingertips. Immediately after, click, the crisp sound of metal engaging echoed.

“……?”

When he applied force, the doorknob turned incredibly smoothly. With a creak from the hinges, the door opened slightly. Startled, Kosha let go and took a couple of steps back.

…Why is it like this?

Why is the door just open?

Beyond the crack, which wasn’t even a hand’s breadth wide, it was excessively quiet, to the point of feeling ominous. Summoning his courage, Kosha reached out again. He pulled the door open a little more and poked his head through the gap.

“Excuse me…”

He thought that guard would be somewhere nearby, but…

“Are you he— Ack!”

There was something like a dark, sack-like lump at his feet. He nearly bit his tongue in surprise, but upon closer look, it was a person. No, not just any person.

It was that very guard.

The motionless sitting figure made his heart sink abruptly. Familiar fear moved his body before his mind. With frantic hands, Kosha grabbed the crouching man’s shoulders and began shaking him vigorously.

“Hey, are you alright? Hey!”

…Is he dead? Is he dead? Where should I call for help? It was a moment when millions of thoughts raced through his mind. A very faint sound reached his ears.

Zzzzz…

“Huuurgh…”

“…….”

The hands shaking the man’s shoulders stopped dead. Kosha’s lips also fell open in disbelief. Amidst it all, the snoring sound flowed out very rhythmically. Zzzzz. Huuurgh.

“…Is he sleeping now?”

He’s sleeping even while being shaken like this? Really? He poked the man a few more times, but there was no sign of him waking up. If not for the snoring, he looked practically dead.

What in the world is going on?

He gulped. What should I do? Isn’t this situation practically set up? The hallway was empty, the guard was asleep, and he was conveniently dressed exactly like a servant.

Even if he ran away right now, no one would know.

The faces of the nine geese he was responsible for caring for flashed through his mind.

And Lucian’s face too.

As if having decided something, Kosha slowly rose from his spot. Just then, as if pushed from behind, a noisy commotion began to be felt from one end of the long corridor.

Kosha quickly dashed in the opposite direction, turned a corner, and disappeared.

---

At that time, Lucian was in the inner courtyard of the royal castle’s main tower. With some of his vassals and knights.

Contrary to Kosha’s worries, neither Lucian nor any of his key vassals had forgotten about the Mage’s existence. They simply needed a little time to investigate his background and decide his treatment, the problem was that time was precisely what they lacked the most.

The detoxification was only half-successful, and Lucian still couldn’t guarantee his actions from sunset to sunrise.

He was someone who welcomed a bit of unexpected excitement, but being completely at the mercy of another person like this was a different story entirely.

In the end, he chose to handle all his affairs while the sun was up, then drink a sleeping draught right before sunset and sleep, blocking all possible ‘accidents.’ As a result, he now had to handle twice his usual workload during the daylight hours.

Of course, Lucian wasn’t originally someone who struggled with a pile of work.

But for the past three days… well.

The feeling of not having slept properly and the persistent, dull headache all day. The cause of this uncharacteristic slump was, first and foremost, a sleep issue.

To be more specific, the unusually messy dreams induced by the shallow, forced sleep brought on by medication.

“Duke Carlot.”

It was just as the morning’s political council, which had dragged on, finally concluded and he was leaving the hall. As Lucian passed through the corridor with his vassals in tow, someone’s voice inevitably stopped him.

A short, stout man, already bundled in velvet and fur even though it was only early autumn, came rolling toward him almost as if tumbling.

“Lord Treasurer.”

“Does Duke Aramore truly intend to risk war? Surely not? Izelant’s finances cannot support further military expansion. Don’t you know? Izelant must now consolidate its foundations. Don’t you agree, Duke Carlot?”

The Treasurer poured out words like a burst sack of grain while panting. His flushed face… overall, just looking at him made one feel hot.

Lucian plastered on a congenial smile.

“Of course. That was merely his proxy speaking, wasn’t it? My brother… didn’t attend today’s council either. It’s not a matter to be decided lightly, so please don’t worry too much.”

“R-right, of course?”

“Naturally. I, too, do not wish for further conflict.”

“Isn’t that so? How wise. What a relief we have someone like you, Duke Carlot. I feel much more at ease now.”

The stout man made a fuss for a while longer, then rolled away again as if tumbling. The shell-like smile faded from Lucian’s face.

However, as soon as he left the long corridor, descended to the inner courtyard of the main tower, and turned a corner, he was caught once more by another group of people. The middle-aged man at the front had graying hair but was still robust and wore full plate armor.

“Your Highness.”

Aren’t they hot in this weather? Thinking that, Lucian smiled again, picture-perfect.

“Cavalry Commander.”

“No matter how I think about it, we cannot leave those northern bastards as they are. Your Highness, in war, timing is crucial, is it not? If we take the initiative and move quickly before winter fully sets in, we have a good chance of victory. I don’t know what those ink-drinking fools might whine to Your Highness about, but you must not be swayed by their three-inch tongues.”

“Yes, of course.”

In a tone as gentle as soothing a child, he nodded.

“How could I not know that timing is crucial in moving troops? And please, don’t worry too much. No one has said anything to me.”

“Ah, how fortunate that Your Highness understands! Really, what do those desk-bound theorists know about war?”

Moved by the blatant lie, the old general chattered on for a while longer before leaving. The smile vanished from Lucian’s face again.

“Is this being a political proxy or a babysitter?”

The king was aged, and the court was effectively run by a regency council of his three most influential children.

But currently, Arabella had unexpectedly volunteered to tour nine cities in the southern Seodin territory and was absent, and Bastian was someone who couldn’t even get out of bed before lunchtime.

Even as a regent prince, the position had little authority and many obligations—utterly worthless unless one sat on the throne itself. His head ached again. Rubbing his brow bone out of habit, Mylotte, who was accompanying him, clicked his tongue.

“Headache again? It’s been bad since the day before yesterday. How about changing the medication?”

Lucian frowned and shook his head. The cause of this headache was perfectly clear anyway.

…That damned dream. The kind he hadn’t even had as a child, recurring for three days straight now.

Thinking about it, something surged within him. This was probably irritation. In truth, he felt something similar every morning upon waking.

If he hadn’t been ‘in his right mind’ during the daylight hours, he probably would have dragged that fellow here by the hair the moment he opened his eyes. It was also to prevent himself from actually doing such a thing that he poured strong sleeping draughts down his throat as soon as dusk fell.

And then, in that forcibly induced shallow sleep, there was that again…

“No, forget it. More importantly.”

Having thought that far, Lucian closed his eyes and tried hard to divert his thoughts elsewhere. Anyway, lately ‘that’ had been excessively disturbing his peace…

“The tail we placed on the Seodin side…”

So, when he saw ‘that’ in the direction he turned his head, he thought for a moment he was dreaming with his eyes open.

Slightly dazed-looking large eyes, pale skin as if it had never seen the sun. Cheeks that looked a bit red, whether from swelling or flushing.

But the moment the green pupils, which had been looking around warily, precisely turned toward him. When the eyelids that had been blinking stupidly soon curved with a somewhat awkward smile.

Lucian keenly felt that ‘that’ was distinctly different from the figure he had grown sick of seeing in his dreams—that is, this was not a dream.

The hair was no longer unnecessarily long or wet. The gaze was clear rather than dazed, and paper-thin fingertips fluttered toward him in a motion whose purpose was unclear.

His feet moved without him realizing. His stride was wide, and it took only an instant for his hand to reach ‘that.’

“Ah, Your Highness. I, actually—”

“Who left this here.”

A strong hand grabbed the back collar of the slightly oversized shirt. Hair brushing against the nape and fabric both tangled between his fingers simultaneously. Kosha was caught without even making a squeak.

“I-It’s just that I heard Sir Myl—”

“Mylotte!”

“—otte was here, so I came looking…”

Kosha explained earnestly, but Lucian didn’t seem to be listening much. When he raised his voice loudly, Mylotte could be seen rushing over in a panic, looking horrified. Kosha gave him an awkward smile too. Anyway, it seemed he had found the right place.

Considering the long journey from that room, it was truly a fortunate thing.

First of all, Kosha was a man who knew how to take responsibility. Moreover, that sense of responsibility had been weighing on him even more heavily since ‘that night.’

This is terrible, Lucian has really gone completely mad. Because of me!

With a normal mind, he wouldn’t have done such a strange… thing.

Therefore, Kosha had a duty to save him from the evil, his own magic. If he irresponsibly ran away, he’d never be able to sleep soundly for the rest of his life.

However… he hadn’t anticipated that trying to look for Mylotte nearby would turn into such a long journey.