Chapter 13: An Autumn Afternoon and a Lost Acorn

Autumn was in full bloom. Outside the window, the maple leaves had begun to turn vibrant shades of red and gold. If I left the window open for a moment after breakfast, the crisp autumn wind and the scent of dry leaves would drift in, filling the room. Since I had started eating things that could actually be called “food” rather than thin gruel, I made it a habit to ventilate the room after meals.

Today was a day like any other. Or rather, the start of one.

Waking up this morning had been a bit of a struggle. Last night, Zeimer had been reading to me when he was suddenly called away for an urgent matter. The book was so gripping that I couldn’t help but finish the rest on my own—painfully slow as it was—and didn’t fall asleep until the first light of dawn.

As I sat there dazed, receiving the help of the servants who assisted with my meal, stroked my back, and helped me lie back down, sleep began to wash over me again. Perhaps because I had loosened my tension and was living so leisurely, my physical strength had waned; in the past, staying up for a single night wouldn’t have left me this exhausted.

Just as the afternoon sun began to prickle against my eyelids, tempting me to open them, I realized the time for Felix’s regular visit had already passed. Felix usually stopped by before luncheon.

I guess I won’t see Felix today. It was bothersome when he pestered me about conferring a title of Honorary Duke or begged me to stay in the palace forever, but he was still a precious comrade-in-arms who had bled with me on the battlefield. I felt a small pang of disappointment.

However, that disappointment was short-lived. Just as I was grumbling internally about why the curtains hadn’t been drawn, I squinted my eyes to find Felix and Claire standing right there.

“Your Majesty…?”

“Sorry. You were sleeping, so I intended to just look at your face and leave, but I suppose I woke you.”

“Today’s afternoon schedule ended earlier than expected, so we came together,” Claire added with a smile.

“Zeimer wanted to come too, but Ilya caught him.”

“I heard Zeimer has been reading to you every day.”

“Ah… yes.”

“We were a bit jealous, you see. We rushed over so as not to be outdone.”

I checked the clock; it was already 3:00 PM. Seeing them together, it seemed they had finished lunch, inspected the Knights, and come straight here.

Since I had just woken up, my voice was thick and raspy. Having skipped most of my lunch to sleep, the condition felt even worse than usual. I blinked my heavy eyes, struggling to adjust to the light, until Claire’s hand covered them. His large, solid hand gently rubbed my eyelids, soothing the dryness. It was a rough hand, but a warm one.

When Claire withdrew his hand, I cleared my throat and reached out toward Felix. I couldn’t remain lying down with the Emperor sitting right in front of me.

“Your Majesty, please help me up.”

Felix’s hands moved in steadily, supporting my back. Having received so much help from others, I could now distinguish who was who just by touch. While Zeimer’s lift felt firm as he tucked his hands under my armpits, Felix reached deep to wrap his arms around my back.

As Felix lifted me, Claire arranged the pillows so I could lean back.

“It is a relief to see you looking so much healthier.”

Healthier? Just yesterday evening, I had coughed up a mess of blood all over the book Zeimer was reading. I could still see the image of Zeimer panicking and flurrying about.

Even though a month and a half had passed since my return to the Palace, Zeimer still lost his composure whenever it concerned me. Claire couldn’t possibly be ignorant of last night’s incident—everything regarding me was reported upward. It was highly likely that he and Felix were simply pretending not to know for my sake.

Felix, who had sat me up and pulled the duvet to my chest, returned to his seat. His eyes were sparkling, the way they did just before he was about to pull a stunt. A sudden sense of foreboding flashed through my mind; he had a surprisingly childlike side and often prepared sudden, unexpected “events.”

“Ian, don’t you feel stifled?”

“Pardon? What do you mean…?”

“Haha, actually, we didn’t just ‘stop by’ today. We came with a purpose. Ian, doesn’t it feel suffocating just lying here all the time?”

“A little, but…”

“I heard you barely ate lunch today. Since we’re all here, how about having a cup of tea on the terrace?”

“I heard Madame Janet gifted you a high-quality sweater,” Felix said, waving the garment in question. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to break it in and get some fresh air.”

Wait, when did he get that?

The sweater, woven tightly with thick but soft yarn, carried the nostalgic scent of the orphanage. Of course, being made of premium wool, it was completely different from the pilled, cheap sweaters I grew up wearing.

Claire carefully guided my arms into the sleeves, layering it over my pajamas. Raising my stiff arms—a lingering effect of the shoulder injury from the final battle—caused a low groan to escape my lips. The sweater was a masterpiece of Director Janet’s skill, a roomy design with alternating patterns of light cream and dark charcoal.

As Claire wrapped me tightly in a blanket and lifted me in his arms, Felix threw open the terrace windows. It was clear they had planned this; a tea table and three chairs were set up in the center of the terrace. They must have prepared it while I was sleeping.

The chair covered in plush cushions and blankets was clearly the seat of honor, but instead of offering it to Felix, Claire sat me there. I stole a glance at Felix, who tilted his head as if confused for a second before smiling and handing me a small piece of bread. It was my first treat in a long time. I reached out from the blankets and took the golden-brown morsel. It looked delicious.

Nom.

When I approached to pick Ian up, he reached out his arms, having grown used to it. Initially, even simple assistance made him look incredibly embarrassed, but now he surrendered his body to us quite readily.

Even if it was just the terrace right outside, it was a major excursion for Ian, so we had to dress him warmly. He groaned low in pain when I lifted his arms for the sweater, but he seemed to really want to wear the gift from Madame Janet.

I wrapped him tightly in a blanket enchanted with warming magic before picking him up. He had lost so much weight that I could feel the ridges of his spine and shoulder blades even through the layers.

The mere act of getting dressed and leaving the bed seemed to drain his stamina; Ian soon closed his eyes and leaned his head against my chest. He was never heavily built, but his ankles, now thin enough to be circled by a single hand, made my heart ache.

He hadn’t been naturally strong, but because his mana pool was immense, the past Ian had been exceptional at physical tasks—even crushing and tearing off iron gates with his bare hands. On the battlefield, he always led from the front, raising the morale of the Imperial Army with his overwhelming martial prowess and steadfast spirit. He was everyone’s salvation and hope.

But the Demon King had snatched away that great shadow of the holy Hero.

The reason I came with Felix was clear. Seeing how much Ian enjoyed Zeimer reading to him every day, we wanted to do something more. After consulting with Ilya, we decided on a simple tea time. Ian, who was usually vague about his likes and dislikes, always had his eyes sparkle at sweet treats.

Even on the battlefield, if sweets came in with the supplies, Ian would make sure to stand in line to get some. Once, when he stood in line too late and missed out, he looked so dejected that Felix, who didn’t care for sweets, gave him his own portion. The atmosphere around Ian had brightened instantly. He had no greed for food, but he truly found joy in sweetness.

Though it was two years ago, that image remained vivid in our memories, so we arranged this tea time for a change of pace.

He had initially struggled to even swallow honey water, but since he had begun eating regular food, we thought it would be okay. However, I was worried by Ilya’s report that he hadn’t eaten much lunch because he didn’t seem to be in good condition this morning.

Still, seeing him wrapped in blankets, nibbling on the treat in his hand, made me feel proud. It was just soft bread made of flour, eggs, and a tiny bit of sugar and maple syrup, but he would be able to taste the sweetness.

Because he had suffered from swelling after eating soup with a tiny bit of salt shortly after waking, almost everything Ian had eaten until now was virtually tasteless. Perhaps that was why, upon tasting his favorite sweets after so long, he was radiating happiness like a purring cat.

But even while enjoying the peace, we had to be prepared for the worst.

The warm, mellow moment was shattered in an instant. Ian’s face turned deathly pale, and he began to retch. The half-eaten bread fell from his hand, getting crushed under Felix’s foot as he stood up in alarm.

“Ian!”

He didn’t vomit, but the nausea was clearly intense as tears welled in his eyes.

“Ugh—”

“It’s okay, shh… it’s okay.”

In moments of agony, Felix was the only one who could help. Both mana and divine power could turn into poison for Ian if handled wrong. The only external power that didn’t clash with Ian’s energy was the Dragon’s power wielded by Felix.

Felix caught Ian’s collapsing body, pulling him into an embrace and pressing his lips to Ian’s forehead. A golden whisper flowed into him, promising that it was okay, that the pain would stop. Fearing even that wasn’t enough, Felix pulled Ian closer, holding him without a single gap between them.

I thought he would be okay by now. He had become so much healthier since he first arrived.

No one knew why or how Ian was hurting. That was the nature of the Demon King’s curse. It was different from any existing disease; we had to be extremely careful with everything.

Fortunately, it didn’t escalate into a seizure, but the sudden intake of cold air triggered a coughing fit, forcing us back into the room. Continuing the tea time was out of the question.

The doctor who rushed in ultimately banned any food that was even slightly stimulating, judging that it was still too much for him.

Having lost the sweetness he had just tasted, Ian looked dejected despite his exhaustion. He looked like a squirrel in shock after losing a whole year’s worth of gathered acorns.

Felix sat by the bed, trying his best to cheer him up.

“Just a little… once you’re just a little healthier, let’s go for a walk in the Imperial Garden.”

I added a word as well. He had to be happy.

“And Ian, we will always be by your side.”