“Haah, seriously.”
Laying Las down on the floor, Asella finally caught her breath.
They had found the cabin halfway up the mountain not long ago.
From the layer of dust covering all the magical tools inside, it seed like it had once belonged to a reclusive mage.
“How did it co to this...”
She may have belonged to a weak faction, but she had still lived her life as the Emperor’s child.
Asella had gone her whole life without so much as dipping her hands in water.
Her whole body was filthy with dust. She had never felt this physically unpleasant in her entire life.
The feeling of mud squishing between her toes was the worst of all.
“This is your fault, Las.”
She resentfully smacked the chest of the still-unconscious Las.
...He didn’t react at all, like a corpse.
Her lips tightened. Just how much more was this man going to make her heart clench?
It was infuriating.
“...He’s not going to die, is he?”
Even on the day he returned from the royal physician’s practical exam, he had collapsed like this.
Back then, Asella had thought he was dead and even started imagining what would be inscribed on his tombstone.
But now... now she found herself hoping he wouldn’t die.
...Why?
Back in the imperial palace, it was common for nobles who committed cris or plotted rebellion to be dragged off and executed.
Camilla, saying it was important to be visible to the Emperor, would always make Asella attend the executions.
So she had thought she was used to seeing people die.
It was said that for retainers, dying for their liege was the greatest honor.
And that their liege ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) should never waste emotion on expendable tools at the risk of jeopardizing greater matters.
She had always been taught so, and believed she would not so much as blink in situations like this.
But Las had sohow beco an exception.
“No, that’s not it.”
Max can’t die either.
Because he’s soft.
Las wasn’t soft... but maybe it was a similar reason. Asella chose to defer judgnt on the unknown emotion bubbling up inside her.
“When are you going to wake up?”
To think soone would dare make —, a princess of the Empire—suffer like this. Unforgivable.
You’re my personal physician.
You’re supposed to take care of .
She whined at soone who couldn’t hear her.
—Tap, tap...
Rain began to patter against the cabin roof, the sound quickly growing louder and filling her ears.
With it, an unfamiliar feeling of liberation blood within Asella.
Co to think of it, this was the first ti she had left the imperial palace without a knight or attendant by her side.
The first ti she’d escaped Camilla’s surveillance.
A place she didn’t recognize, and the only thing she had was an unconscious personal doctor.
The sll of moss rising with the rain gave her a fresh, vivid sensation.
A feeling of being alive.
She suddenly realized she was enjoying this atmosphere.
It felt like she had escaped that suffocating palace—and her heart fluttered with excitent.
“It would’ve been more fun if you were awake to feel this too.”
Asella absentmindedly brushed Las’s cheek with the back of her hand.
His skin was soft like a baby’s—not very manly.
It was oddly fun to observe his face. Even poking at different spots.
She didn’t like it when he touched her.
It felt condescending, and made her oddly self-conscious.
And realizing that she was self-conscious only made it worse.
“Yet even so, you dare to grope the imperial body as you please.”
She knew it wasn’t out of lust.
Las was always extrely professional, and only touched her body in the capacity of her physician.
He had absolutely no self-awareness.
If anything, he was the one who occasionally showed discomfort. Asella had always noticed those subtle monts.
And oddly enough, it hurt her pride a little.
Maybe he was used to more voluptuous won back in his marquisate, living a decadent noble life.
Her own body was still in the midst of developing—maybe it didn’t interest him at all.
“But you’re my fiancé.”
It was infuriating—beyond infuriating.
Of course, if Las ever forgot his place and tried to treat her like a real fiancé—tried to take her as a woman—Asella was fully prepared to cut his throat.
It was a purely political engagent, one between their houses.
She knew her thoughts were contradictory.
But she had the right to be selfish.
That was the privilege of one who carried imperial blood.
It was tyrants, not sages, who built strong nations.
“I wonder what you're thinking.”
She had always been curious about that.
Why was this man helping her?
He always acted reluctant, yet at every critical mont, he was there to support her.
The price of having a witch’s talent implanted—was a stomach full of pain.
Every ti it flared, so did a wave of negative emotions.
Strangely enough, lately this man had always been by her side when it happened.
When Camilla spoke cruel words. When she had to endure her training, unable to resist. When her hatred of commoners surged. When she imagined Max dying and felt despair.
Every ti, sothing stirred inside her, whispering to her.
Urging her to unleash her magic, to destroy the world.
It was said that high-ranking mages often heard voices or saw illusions.
Even Seymour had his own thods for keeping his mind intact.
...But was it really just the magic?
Sothing stronger—more primal—kept planting seeds of destruction inside her.
“Las.”
Ever since you showed up... it’s strange.
It feels like those voices have quieted.
Is there anyone else in the Empire who understands my condition so precisely?
You stuck needles in this body, drew my blood.
The pain even lessened.
Even now, after taking your dicine, the sensations dull as if by magic, and peace settles in.
And then—
“Cough.”
Her personal physician let out a deep cough.
Asella imdiately assud he was waking and prepared to scold him solemnly.
The cri of making a princess suffer like this was grave. She would extract her dues.
“Cough, cough.”
But Las didn’t open his eyes. He just kept coughing, deeper and deeper.
“Huh...?”
Only then did Asella realize sothing was wrong.
Her palm, still resting on his cheek, felt a sticky sensation she hadn’t noticed before.
Dark red blood.
“Las?”
Startled, she shook his shoulder.
Still no response. His frail body shook limply.
Her hand began to tremble. A shadow passed over her face.
Why had she waited so long?
He’d taken the Death Dragon’s curse head-on too. It wasn’t just a reflected spell—there could’ve been other effects.
She should have checked for injuries when he didn’t wake. She’d been too complacent.
“What do I... what do I do...”
Asella racked her brain in desperation.
She didn’t know any healing spells. She had no helpful magic for this. Her mana was completely depleted.
“Sothing, anything...”
Snap!
She ripped off Las’s coat.
She rifled through his inner pocket. Syringes filled with liquids of all colors and bottles of various dicines spilled out.
“If I give him this...”
She reached for a drug, then hesitated.
Las had always warned her about overdosing.
Even aspirin—he said never take more than two a day.
If she fed him sothing without knowing what it was, she might end up killing him.
“What the hell is what?!”
She clicked her tongue and ran her hands over his body.
His muscles were stiff, almost paralyzed.
If she didn’t act fast, sothing terrible might happen. Her anxiety grew.
“This is...”
She found a notebook.
The one Las always carried—where he wrote down everything.
Flip flip.
Asella flipped through the pages and quickly scanned the contents.
Detailed notes on drugs and injections. Pages filled with records about her own condition.
So strange entries caught her eye.
So lines were crossed out, others were left intact:
[Executed and beheaded. Deleted.]
[Died by suffocation magic. Deleted.]
[Defeated by the Demon King’s Army.]
[Failed to subdue the Demon King, leading to a demon’s descent.]
[Magic that destroys the Imperial Family.]
...
No ti to waste on irrelevant noise.
She turned more pages, hunting for valid information.
[Vomiting blood can be temporarily treated with candy.]
[Needs enhancent if rank increases.]
[Secured ingredients for candy. Candidate list:]
[Golden Rose: High-grade version of yellow rose, mostly found near dragon nests or western demon lands.]
“Candy...”
She didn’t know all the terms, but she was certain—it was the candy he always ate to suppress his symptoms.
Asella roughly pulled candy from his pocket.
She unwrapped it and shoved it in his mouth, but it didn’t seem very effective.
“I need water.”
She ran outside and caught rain in her hands.
Her clothes were soaked, but she didn’t care.
Rushing back in, she let the water drip into his mouth—slowly dissolving the candy.
Las’s breathing began to stabilize, bit by bit.
But he still showed no signs of waking.
“Do I need another ingredient?”
She checked the list in the notebook.
Unfamiliar plants and berries were drawn and labeled.
Thanks to her noble education, she vaguely recognized so of them.
What she needed now was a Golden Rose.
“If this is near the dragon’s nest...”
She imdiately grabbed her staff and bolted out of the cabin.
***
“Phew...”
I finally opened my eyes.
My whole body tingled. Side effect of the strength enhancer.
Ti must have passed—my muscles were slowly regaining movent.
My mouth was sticky with dried blood.
Must’ve bled a lot while I was unconscious.
...Why do I taste sothing sweet?
I was still dizzy as hell, and the system ssages were flying past my vision:
―――――――――――
· [Rising Star] achievent unlocked. The Emperor of the Empire has taken notice of you.
· [The Beginning of Greatness] achievent unlocked. So commoners now respect you.
· Your dical Skill has ranked up to C. Choose two new skills to learn.
· Due to talent rank-up, your debuff [HP Drain: D] has ranked up to C.
―――――――――――
My dical rank increased.
Probably thanks to the widespread use of aspirin and face masks—and the knights’ performance after using them.
But the biggest boost ca from Asella defeating the Death Dragon with my dicine.
I gained a massive amount of experience.
Still... given I took the curse head-on at the end, the timing wasn’t exactly joyful.
Health... I need to synthesize more candy.
I had to move fast, but I couldn’t muster any strength.
I barely turned my head to assess the surroundings.
The sound of rain tapping against the roof.
A figure sat calmly before in the dark.
I imdiately recognized her and called out.
“Your Highness.”
Asella looked exhausted.
Too tired to even yell at .
Even so, she showed a brief mont of relief—and held out a single flower she’d cradled in her arms.
“You really do need this, right?”
A golden rose, shining brightly even in the dark.
She held it out with her mud-covered hands.
“Where did you find this?”
The question slipped out, surprised.
Asella scoffed like it was nothing and replied.
“It was just lying there.”
As I reached out to take the flower, our hands overlapped. She looked at and said:
“Las, you asked if I hated the Empire.”
“Yes.”
“I do.”
It was the answer I’d fully expected.
“The Empire is full of enemies. Who else but Her Majesty could’ve summoned that dragon?”
She spoke with resignation, her voice weak. She looked truly tired.
“My siblings, His Majesty—every last one of them is an enemy. Why should I like an Empire like that? There’s no family for here.”
Considering how they treated her during the tournant, her words made sense.
She couldn’t possibly feel any attachnt to the palace or the Empire. Wiping them out like in the “Fall of the Empire” ending might even feel justified to her.
But we couldn’t let it co to that.
“Is family important to you?”
“I think... it is.”
“Then you’ll just have to make one. Like you’ve acquired everything else, Your Highness.”
“How? No matter how hard I try, they never see . Even Her Majesty only ever seems disappointed.”
“Family doesn’t have to be sothing you’re born with. You can make a new one.”
I didn’t know if it was the right answer, but I offered the most basic truth I could.
Asella paused.
Her hand, holding the stem of the rose, trembled faintly.
She looked straight at and asked—
“...With you?”
No, that’s... that’s not what I ant...
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