Chapter 22: Weakness

When I opened my eyes, I was in some kind of VIP room.

I was surprised by the softness of the blanket—higher quality than anything I’d ever known, even in my past life. Then I was flustered by the plushness of the bed, the way my waist and hips sank into it as I tried to get up.

This bed wasn’t like the ones in the school dormitory or even the servants’ quarters at the Jurden family estate.

“Where… is this… Cough.”

A raspy cough escaped.

My throat was hoarse. After being cut down with a sword, pickled in river water, and then practically pickaxed with disinfectant… I guess being hoarse was only natural.

If my throat hadn’t been sore after all that, I wouldn’t be human.

…Of course, I am a superhuman.

But still—where am I?

This wasn’t a barracks. That much was clear.

And there was no one else in the room with me.

I scanned the room once carefully, then confirmed with a simple search spell before lowering the blanket I’d been clutching tightly.

It was so fluffy and warm, I hadn’t wanted to let go.

And… it was cold.

Really cold.

My upper body was wrapped in bandages like a mummy—naked underneath.

My chest had been tightly compressed with a bandage. Understandable, considering the deep slash I’d taken from 141.

Not that I intended to thank that lunatic of a military doctor.

Crazy bastard.

I placed my hand over the bandage and activated a spell.

“The color to be re-engraved is gray. Melt the candle to cover the scratch.”

There weren’t many bloodstains. Maybe it would heal faster than my burn wounds.

Isn’t there a saying?

Cleanly cut wounds heal faster than burns.

I continued casting healing magic on the other injuries in succession.

Thankfully, none of them looked too bad.

I hadn’t unwrapped the bandages yet, but that was the sense I got. Maybe they used good ointment.

Ointments made from alchemy still didn’t work on me… but strangely, herbal salves—those without magic—worked incredibly well. Better than any modern pharmaceutical ointment I’d ever known.

Even using healing magic alongside it, a major burn that would normally take five or six weeks to heal had completely closed in just one week and five days.

What kind of logic was that?

I mean, sure—herbs are powerful. But healing at this rate?

It was practically magic.

As if this world—already teeming with magic—was trying to out-magic itself.

I don’t get it… but I bet in this world, even a meteor strike counts as magical damage.

…Not that I want to be hit by one.

“Has that child woken up?”

“Prince William? I’m sorry! I’ll go check right away—”

“There’s no need.”

“W-Wait! Your Highness!”

Just as things started to get noisy outside, that voice came through.

Prince William.

The second prince of Eclisia.

Already, I felt a creeping sense of dread. I pulled the blanket up to my neck and began lying back down—

“Ack!?”

I’d moved too suddenly.

Pain shot through me. I curled up on instinct, hand on the wound, freezing in place.

I pulled the blanket up over my mouth, praying the sound hadn’t carried.

And then, the door opened.

“Ugh… ugh…”

“You still don’t seem to be well.”

I turned my head, just barely.

Though younger than Therese and Edwin, Prince William’s build alone made him look more mature than both.

He stood with arms crossed, staring at me like I was pitiful.

An old handmaiden behind him wore a worried expression—at him. She’d look at him, then shoot me a glare, then turn back to him in a spinning cycle of anxiety and suspicion.

It was almost funny.

I wanted to laugh.

But if I laughed right now, I’d regret it immediately.

“Please leave, Sildy.”

“Your Highness! You can’t! You mustn’t be alone with a commoner of unknown origin! What if she harbors ill intent—”

“What can a patient who can’t even lift a finger possibly do?”

“Still, Your Highness is young! You must be protected!”

Oh god.

That handmaiden…

Her voice reminded me of my old school vice principal.

I don’t remember the actual voice, but I’m sure it was something like this.

“It’s fine. Really. Just leave, Sildy.”

“Your Highness!!”

“Haaah. You’re more stubborn today than usual. Here—see? I’m not alone.”

With a sigh and a click of his tongue, William drew his sword.

As he swung it, the air split open—literally—and something began to crawl out.

At first, it looked like a slime, but it was different.

Stronger.

It crawled across the floor, emitting thick magical energy, then slowly transformed… into a young and beautiful maiden.

Though—her form was off. Flickering. Unstable.

“She’s my spirit. Undine. You’ve seen her before, right, Sildy?”

“……Ugh. Ugh.”

“Now will you finally leave?”

“I… I’ll wait outside. Please don’t stay too long.”

Grumbling, the old handmaiden left with a clearly sour face.

The door closed behind her.

As soon as it did, Undine’s maiden form shattered like glass and collapsed into her round, blob-like shape again.

Even that didn’t last long.

Suddenly, her upper body swelled like it was about to burst, and writhing tentacles sprouted from within.

Ominous. No matter how you looked at it.

William watched her calmly, as if used to it.

“They say spirits take on a form that reflects the summoner’s heart.”

“…Pardon?”

“No, no. I didn’t come to talk about that.”

William tossed a small magic stone from his chest to Undine.

The tentacles snatched it, and she began slowly devouring it.

Unease crept up my spine at the sight. I tried to sit up.

I had to thank William properly—for Therese’s sake.

“I’m embarrassed to be seen like this, but… thank you for saving me, Your Highness William.”

“Ah, ah. It’s fine, just don’t try to get up. It hurts to look at you.”

“…Thank you for forgiving my rudeness.”

“Haha.”

He chuckled and sat on the edge of the bed beside me.

“Your Highness?”

“My brother was right when he said, ‘Therese may not be much, but her maid is quite cute.’”

“W-wait—”

William reached toward me.

I instinctively raised my arm.

But I couldn’t strike him with it.

The situation was too delicate.

“Stop it, please, Your Highness. If someone sees—”

“What you’re saying is cute. But your eyes are saying, ‘Try anything and I’ll kill you.’”

“……Ugh.”

He brushed my hair aside and leaned close to my ear.

A shiver ran down my spine.

If only I had a blade in that spot…

“Who attacked you?”

“…?”

“Was it a black-haired girl with a sword and a bandage over her eyes?”

“How do you—”

“Or for your sake, should I just say… 141?”

He whispered it—but not softly enough.

I turned to him, shocked.

But William was already standing.

“Who… are you?”

“How disloyal. Should I call the guards and have you executed?”

“I asked who you are. Answer me.”

“If you’re going to be formal, then be formal. If not, don’t pretend.”

He sighed and called Undine to his side.

I loosened my grip on the blanket.

I’d been considering wrapping it around his neck… but he wasn’t someone you could catch off guard.

“Who else? The real owner of that facility. The one your mad dog is desperate to kill.”

“…What kind of reaction are you looking for?”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t get angry?”

“Why reveal this to me?”

“You’re handling it well. As expected. A rabid dog and a well-raised pet feel very different.”

The strength in my hands returned—not from intent.

Just pure anger.

“The records said you were a man. And you attacked Cecilia in male form. That was reckless.”

“You saved me to extract repayment. Is that it?”

“Yes, yes, yes. 141—no, Eileen, that’s what she calls herself now. To her, you, Cornelia, are now both an enemy and a benefactor. Fickle, isn’t it?”

“So you’re telling me to kill her?”

“You have enough sense to understand implication. Must we be so blunt?”

So, 141—Eileen—had sided with the saintess.

Cecilia, who was digging into the facility, who had taken to healing the people.

It’s not hard to imagine Eileen encountering her.

Like me, who is Therese’s maid but not Jurden’s… perhaps Eileen is Cecilia’s guard, but not the church’s knight.

And this young prince—caught between their targeting—saw me, saved me, and now… brought me into this web.

It doesn’t fit perfectly.

But it fits enough.

“If you’re hiding anything, tell me all of it.”

“You’re awfully direct with a prince. Go find out yourself.”

“…Ugh.”

“That’s all I had to say. I’ll send you back to the Jurden family tomorrow.”

“Pardon?”

He said his piece and walked out.

Just like that?

That’s what I thought.

But then it hit me—

William now held Therese’s weakness.

Not exactly a weakness… more like a self-destruct switch.

“Damn it.”

Go.

Go and tell your master that we’re on the same boat now.

Because of me, Therese just got dragged onto a ship with a lunatic who holds the trigger.