Chapter 1: Let’s Go to the Festival

Many years of habit had Misha waking up at the same time as always, sitting up in bed and staring blankly into space.

Though she had left the ball well before it ended, she hadn’t made it to bed until late. As a result, she had slept much less than she was used to, so even though she was awake, her head hadn’t quite started working yet.

After staring into space for a while, she finally forced herself to roll out of bed.

Oh, right—Tia told me that this morning would start late since so many of the servants are off for the holiday.

While the festival was in progress, everyone across the kingdom was celebrating. The staff working at the castle had been split across two shifts, taking turns so that the other half could enjoy the festivities. The festival itself stretched out over two days, so there was ample opportunity for both shifts to celebrate. The ball in the castle had been on the first night, and there wasn’t much in the way of events happening on the second day within the castle itself. Instead, an altar was built on the shore of the lake and a mass would be held at the cathedral, which Ryan and Lalaya were expected to participate in as royalty.

Attendance to the mass was by invite only, so most of the nobility would be sneaking into town to enjoy the festival there or gathering in private parties in their various estates. Misha had been invited to join a party with the staff from the herb garden and had received another invite from the various medical professionals she had become close to here in Redford, but the events of the previous day had been so overwhelming that she turned all of those invitations down, leaving her schedule for the day completely blank.

Okay, I should wash my face.

Once she dragged herself over to the sink, the cold water on her face finally helped snap her into a state of wakefulness. After a bit more work in making herself presentable, she started on the way back to her cabin. The early morning air in the castle garden still held a soft chill and a quiet that made the previous night’s festivities seem like a dream. There were fewer servants and workers moving about than usual, supporting Tia’s claims about the staff being on break.

Tia and Isabella both had the day off today. It was suggested they stagger their time off so that at least one of them would be with her each day, but these plans had all been laid well before Misha came to Redford. Most of all, neither of them had been willing to give up the chance to support Misha on the day of the ball. Their vehement insistence ended up in both of them taking the second day of the festival off.

Enjoying the view of the castle’s flowers slick with the morning mist, Misha began imagining what breakfast would look like today.

I’ve still got some eggs, so maybe those with some dried tomatoes. A plain vegetable soup is probably good too. Oh, but I have to finish those sausages.

She hummed a tune as she walked, her stomach giving a soft rumble to communicate its own impatience.

“Good morning, Ren.”

As Misha opened the door to her cabin, she found Ren on the other side happily wagging his tail and plopping down in front of her in greeting. Although he was still young, he was a wolf, so there were people in the castle who might have been scared of him. Misha had decided not to take him around the castle very often. Ryan had given her permission to bring Ren anywhere, but even someone with as sheltered an upbringing as Misha could understand that walking around the castle with a wolf was abnormal.

Of course, getting rid of Ren was out of the question, so Misha had concocted her plan to move into this cabin with Ren instead. If he couldn’t be in the castle, the two of them could just stay outside, she figured. Misha’s discovery of this cabin on one of her walks had been a great cause for celebration. However, if she were honest, her excuse of being too stressed living surrounded by so many other people wasn’t exactly a lie.

“I’ll make breakfast right away. And just for today, I’ll share some of my sausage with you,” Misha said, rubbing Ren’s fur, which still had the softness of childhood.

Ren’s eyes narrowed happily at the sensation, then he started rubbing his head against her in an obvious invitation to scratch him in his favorite spot. Misha laughed as she obliged, spending some time scratching him behind the ears.

“Okay, be a good boy and behave for a while. I’m starving.” She had only eaten some light snacks the night before, so as a girl who was used to getting three solid meals a day, she was now quite hungry. In order to make them cook a little faster, Misha cut the vegetables for her soup into smaller pieces than usual, and then she threw the sausage in the frying pan alongside her eggs.

“Maybe I’ll have a bit of a bigger breakfast today,” she murmured, her body spinning about the kitchen like it had forgotten how to stop. Once she finished cooking and set breakfast on the table, a knock sounded from her kitchen window.

“Yo. Looks tasty.”

“Oh! Hi, Geord.” Misha looked up in surprise at Geord, leaning sleepily on her windowsill. “You’re here awfully early. What’s wrong?”

As she dashed over to the window in concern, he smiled back at her. “Just on my way home from work. I was doing security last night.”

“I was wondering why I didn’t see you last night. So you were at work the whole time?” Misha’s eyes widened in surprise.

Geord replied with an embarrassed shrug, “Yep. Even though I got a court rank with my position, the other nobles get kind of uncomfortable with me around, so I put myself on security for the first day of the festival.”

He continued explaining over a cup of tea, since Misha decided it made more sense to invite him in than to talk through the window. “But that gives me the whole second day off, so I get a hearty reception from the commoners and those with low rank.”

“Sounds a lot like you,” she commented.

“I saw you last night, by the way. I was hiding in the corner. I was surprised at how good a dancer you are. Your dress was really pretty too.”

Misha’s face flushed a little at the sudden barrage of compliments. “My partners were just that good at leading. Otherwise a beginner like me could never have danced that well.”

“If you say so. I’m a terrible dancer, so I guess the two of us would be awful together.” Geord laughed at Misha’s attempts toward modesty.

Misha’s cheeks puffed out at his obvious teasing. Although she was trying to be modest, she did want to be recognized for how much effort she had put in during practice.

But I know that’s just being pretentious...

“Oh, don’t make that face. I’m sorry. Actually, I came to invite you out to celebrate the festival in town today.” Geord gave a wry grin, poking at Misha’s cheek. Misha instantly switched gears, tilting her head.

“In town?”

“Yep. The town will have festivities all day. There’ll be twice as many shops open, and there will be flowers and lanterns all over. Don’t you wanna see?”

Geord’s description of the town made Misha’s face light up. She had turned down all the invitations she’d received the day before because she’d been stressed out about the ball, so today her schedule was completely free. She was even starting to regret turning down so many of them now that she had been able to sleep and recover from the events of last night. She had no reason to turn Geord down now.

“I want to go! I’d love to see the festival!”

Her enthusiastic response got a similarly bright smile out of Geord. “Got it. I’ll make sure to teach you how to properly enjoy a festival.”

After enjoying a good breakfast, Misha headed to the gate where she had agreed to meet Geord to find him already waiting for her. Having been on his way back from work earlier he had been in his guard’s uniform, but now he was wearing his usual vest over a white shirt and black pants.

“Sorry for making you wait!” Misha said as she dashed over to him. Geord had said he was going to get some exercise in before they met up, so Misha had assumed she’d be here first.

Geord pushed himself upright off the pillar he had been leaning against. “No worries. I just got here too.” He smiled as his leisurely stride matched Misha’s pace perfectly. The fact he was considerate even over something so small brought a smile to Misha’s face.

“Walking together like this makes it feel like we’re traveling again.”

“Doesn’t it? But uh...please don’t get into any trouble this time, okay?” Geord muttered, flashing a mischievous smile.

Memories of their journey together flashed through Misha’s mind. “None of it was trouble! They were all wonderful experiences!” she replied proudly, pointedly not matching Geord’s gaze.

In turn, he could only chuckle. “I guess that’s what we’ll call it, then.” He shrugged.

Misha paid his teasing no mind, continuing at the same pace.

The walk from the castle to the lakefront where the festival was being celebrated took them about thirty minutes at that speed. But of course, that kind of distance was next to nothing for Misha, who had grown up in a forest, and she very much enjoyed the stroll through the city, decorated as it was for the festivities.

Ren looked up at the two humans as they walked, confused as to why they were in such good spirits. Normally he was left behind on outings like this, but since it would only be Misha and Geord—and they were just going out for fun—Misha had decided to bring him along. That said, with the crowds they were expecting to run into, they couldn’t let Ren just run free like he usually did. Not everyone was as fond of animals as Misha was, and with Ren’s small size, it was all too easy to imagine him getting lost or trampled among the crowds.

Thus, to ensure everyone knew he was harmless and to prevent him from getting lost, he was on a leash made of rope. Considering how rarely he strayed from Misha’s side in the first place, it wasn’t that much of a bother for the little wolf. He was just excited that he was allowed to accompany them, as indicated by the rapid swishing of his tail while he trotted along beside her.

And so the strange group of man, girl, and beast made their way to the festival grounds, arriving just as the window for breakfast was ending. With business at the various stalls starting to slow down, a number of beautifully decorated festival carts began parading around the area.

The floats were painted in a brilliant blue and embellished with a full rainbow of flowers and ribbons. Each decoration was its own work of art, making just watching the procession an exciting experience.

“This is amazing! Is that decorated with fruit? And that one with dolls! It’s so cute!” Pulling on Geord’s sleeve as she excitedly pointed at each of the floats moving by, Misha seemed very much like a girl her age. Geord, in turn, nodded along with a smile, casually shielding Misha from the movements of the crowd and guiding her along so as not to disrupt its flow.

After some time, once they had come to a place that was a bit less congested with onlookers, Geord handed Misha a cup of fruit-infused water he had purchased behind her back.

“Thank you!” She happily accepted the gift, having worked up quite a thirst with all her excited exclamations so far.

Geord grinned. “My pleasure. Too bad it’s not fizzy this time. I guess you can relax.”

Misha scowled as Geord poked fun at the memory of her first experience of a carbonated beverage, when they had run across each other by chance while walking through the old city and he had offered her a taste of his drink.

“Don’t tease me! I can drink that stuff no problem now!”

“Yeah, yeah. You probably would have been fine if I had given you kids’ stuff from the beginning. Sorry,” he said with a laugh, no shred of an apology in his expression. Instead, he pointed at a passing float. “These floats only come out on the second day of the festival. There are ten of them, and they only come out once in the morning and once at night. We’re lucky we made it in time to see them.”

“Oh, really? I like the different costumes everyone’s wearing too.” The procession of floats quickly had Misha’s undivided attention.

Geord watched over her captivation with a smile. The straightforward way she expressed her curiosity and interest on her face was enough to make the trip worth it for him. His attempts to draw those expressions out of her were the reason their trip back to Redford had taken so long, and why Tris had been so angry with him. He didn’t regret his actions in the least.

Today’s outing was one he hadn’t asked permission for, and so Misha wasn’t attended by any other escort. Geord had decided that since it was a familiar city, nothing untoward would happen. He had left a message back in the castle, though, which he imagined was just about reaching Tris and sending him through the roof right about now.

Come on, don’t you think you’re getting distracted too easily? You’re way too easily sidetracked, Misha.

Misha sipped at her drink, having already completely forgotten Geord’s teasing. He had to hold back a laugh as he enjoyed his own ale.

“They look great at night too, when all those lanterns on them are lit up, but unfortunately I don’t think we’ll be here that late,” Geord said, patting Misha on the head.

She turned back to him with a bright smile. “They’re already beautiful. Thanks for taking me to see them.”

After watching the last of the floats pass by, they walked around visiting a number of the festival stalls. Unlike during other times of the year, the stalls cramming the street now offered plenty of games for passersby, like target practice and ring toss. Occasionally one would catch their interest and they’d stop to win a prize. In particular, Misha had to laugh when Geord was unable to hit the targets with the toy bow they provided him, and he stubbornly insisted on trying over and over. For the first time, she learned how fun it could be to banter over a friend’s failure.

Since Geord was born a commoner, he had many friends around the city, and quite a few people stopped to greet them as they walked. Some of them were even the owners of the stalls they were passing by, and so they handed them free food and drinks as they went or shared alcohol with Geord.

The most surprising encounter was when they met Shydein. Just as he’d said he would, the old captain had found work and started living in the city. Apparently, he was working as a helper at an inn, which had opened a food stall during the festival. They had brought Shydein along to work as something like a bouncer for them, he explained with a laugh as he handed Misha a skewer. He had really acclimated well to Redford, as shown by how many people stopped to talk to him. His ability to carry on conversations with them while still doing business was remarkable. Misha had to laugh at how many people stopped to say, “Wait, you’re charging me for this?!” as he handed them food.

Between all the food, drink, and people, Misha thoroughly enjoyed the festive mood that had settled over the city. Ren was also quite popular with the people, getting scraps of meat tossed his way and pretty little ribbons tied around his neck as they walked. Normally, when Misha had to leave him behind, she left him with the gatekeepers or stables because she felt bad locking him up alone in her cabin. His various opportunities to play in the castle gardens had given him the chance to get used to people, so he was able to keep calm even as numerous strangers reached out to pet him.

On top of that, his training with the castle’s watchdogs seemed to have stuck, as he kept close to Misha’s side at all times, a watchful eye on the crowds around them. When Geord noticed his behavior, he had to praise the little wolf for being a great bodyguard.

The day wore on, and eventually Misha happened to notice a pair of rather familiar-looking young boys.

“Yuu! Teto!” Misha instinctively blurted out as she saw them effortlessly weaving through the crowd. But when they heard her voice, they instantly came to a stop.

“It’s Misha!”

“You came to see the festival!”

The two boys dashed over to her and gave her a big hug.

“Yeah, Geord brought me. You’re here for it too, then? Wait, where’s Anna?” As she ruffled the two boys’ hair, she realized one small figure was missing from the usual crew. Normally there was a little girl following these two everywhere they went.

The two boys shrugged. “She’s waiting somewhere else. There’s too many people here for her.”

“She came to see the floats, but she’s so small that she gets carried away by the crowds. Apparently it tired her out.”

Misha noticed the drinks and bags of sweets the boys were carrying. “Looks like you bought some stuff for her?”

“Aww, what nice older brothers she has,” Geord commented, watching the three kids talking with a smile.

“Hey, can I come with you? I want to see Anna too,” Misha asked, pushing the boys forward and starting to walk. She felt bad that little Anna was left waiting all on her own. A quick glance back at Geord got a nod of approval from him.

“Of course! She’ll be really happy to see you again after so long.” As the two boys nodded happily, Ren decided to insert himself into the conversation by rubbing up against their feet. “Whoa! Ren! Careful, you’re going to trip me!”

Yuu stumbled a bit, some of the juice in his cup spilling onto Ren. The sweet drink dripping on his face got a surprised look out of the pup, but he quickly started happily licking it up.

“Ugh, come on, Ren!”

“Lucky guy. It’s raining juice for him.”

Unable to get angry at Ren’s delighted response to the accident, the two boys could only sigh. Geord watched the whole exchange with a laugh as he bought a plate of cut fruit from a nearby stand.

“Here, you won’t spill these. I’ll carry the cups for you.”

“Uh...are you sure?” Yuu looked conflicted as he saw the plate covered in rare fruit from overseas. They were all said to be sweet and delicious, but they were the kind of stuff that had to be brought in by ship, so they were quite expensive. The kids had saved up what little money they could to enjoy the festival, and while it was enough to buy a small plate of the fruit, it would take everything they had to do so; regretfully, it was something they always had to pass up.

But now Geord was handing them the largest variety of those plates. Yuu was well aware of how much it cost and how hard it was to make that kind of money, so even if it was from Misha’s friend, he was hesitant to accept such a gift from a stranger.

“Relax, you’re kids. You don’t need to hold back. It’ll be more fun if we all share it, right?” Geord shrugged off their hesitation with a laugh. “Back when I was a kid, people treated me to stuff like this too. If you like it, you can do the same thing for the kids you meet when you grow up.”

“Okay! Thanks, mister!”

Geord ruffled the two boys’ hair as they beamed up at him. Seeing the way he held their two cups in one hand, not spilling so much as a drop, made Misha realize just how dexterous he was, which brought a smile to her face too.

“Okay, let’s go! Anna’s probably sick of waiting by now.”

The group made their way through the crowds. Eventually a bored-looking Anna came into sight, swinging her legs idly on a bench under a tree some distance away from the bustling crowds.

“Anna! We’re back!” The moment they saw her, Yuu and Teto broke out into a sprint.

“You guys are so slow!” Anna’s immediate response was to complain, but when she looked up and saw Misha standing behind the two boys, her scowl dropped and her eyes popped wide open. “Misha! Wow, I didn’t think we’d see you at the festival!” Anna jumped off the bench and ran toward Misha, not so much as slowing down as she plowed into her, wrapping the older girl in a big hug.

“I know!” Misha laughed. “I never expected to find you guys in a huge crowd like this!” Lifting the small girl up, she spun her around just like Geord had done for her once. Anna’s laughter seemed infectious, as it had Ren hopping around excitedly beside them.

“We’ve got drinks and snacks and fruit! Let’s eat!” Misha declared, prompting Yuu and Teto to hold up their prize.

“Wow! I’m so thirsty!”

Returning to the bench, the group dug into the assortment of foods. The distance from the crowd let a gentle breeze reach them, making it surprisingly comfortable.

“Wow, this fruit is tasty.”

“That’s a kind of peach. I think they call it maruge? It’s sweet and juicy, so it’s pretty popular with kids,” Geord said with a laugh, using a handkerchief to wipe the juice smeared all over Anna’s face as she zealously worked her way through the food.

“How do you get so messy when it’s already cut into bite-sized pieces?” Yuu sighed.

“They’re still a bit too big for her mouth, I guess,” Misha answered for Anna as she cut some of the fruit into smaller pieces and put them on a skewer for her.

“Thanks!” Pointedly ignoring her brother’s heckling, Anna quickly brought the skewer to her mouth. But before she could take a bite, she was interrupted by a coughing fit.

“Are you okay? Did something get caught in your throat?” Misha asked, worried about the duration of the fit as she rubbed Anna’s back.

“No, I’m okay. My throat just feels a little weird,” Anna replied with a bright smile once her coughing came to an abrupt end as if nothing had ever happened. But her face looked a little redder than usual, prompting Misha to put a hand to the girl’s cheek.

“Hmm. You look a little feverish. Can you say ‘ah’ for me?”

Anna opened her mouth wide, letting Misha inspect her throat.

“No swelling,” Misha reported. “Maybe it’s just too much excitement? You’re probably fine, but maybe you should head home for the day.”

“What? But I feel fine!” Anna pouted. Misha smiled as she stroked Anna’s hair.

“There’s so many people around, you’ll get worn out before you know it. If you don’t take a nap now, you’ll be really sleepy when nighttime comes. You’re going to take lanterns to the altar with your family later, right?”

The lanterns that had begun decorating the city ten days ago were all handmade by the people living there with paint and strips of paper in bright colors. They were just as much a key part of the festival as the floats, to the point many people came to the city during the festival just to see them. Naturally, Anna and her family had made their own lanterns, which now hung outside their home.

On the last night of the festival, everyone took their lanterns to the altar built on the shore of the lake. At the designated time, the priest would offer a prayer for a good harvest in the coming year and set fire to all the lanterns. The inferno would reflect off the surface of the lake in a brilliant display—a fitting climax to the festival celebrating the coming of summer. It normally happened well after the kids’ bedtime, so they had been given special permission to stay up late to see it. The three kids had been very excited when they told Misha about it.

“I can’t miss it again,” Anna moaned. Last year she had failed to keep awake until they reached the altar. The thought of it happening again had her almost in tears.

Yuu and Teto nodded, thinking back to all the games and food they had enjoyed already. “Exactly. So let’s head home and get ready for tonight.”

“We’ve had tons of fun today already, right? Let’s take a break.” They had just about run through their spending money anyway, so all that was really left for them to do was walk around and look at the stalls.

“Why don’t you guys take the rest home with you? The fruit should be fine as long as you eat it today,” Geord said, pushing the tray still half full of fruit toward them.

“We can have the rest?!” Anna snapped out of her pout into an excited bounce.

Geord burst out in laughter, caught by surprise by her sudden shift in demeanor. “Yeah. It’s a reward for you being a good girl today,” he said, patting her on the head.

Yuu and Teto seemed just as enthusiastic. “Thanks, mister!”

“Do you mind if we share it with our families?”

“Of course. Do whatever you like with it.”

Smiling at how the kids’ first thought was to share their prize, Misha and Geord watched the three energetic youngsters set off for home. Anna stood in the middle, carefully carrying the tray of fruit as the three of them disappeared into the city.

Glancing over at Misha, Geord saw something of a shadow lingering in the girl’s eyes, and his smile shifted into a frown. The kids’ families weren’t here, so they wanted to share the delicious food they had been given. What did Misha think as she saw those happy faces?

He hesitated for a moment but in the end decided to play it off as if he hadn’t noticed. “Okay, the kids have gone home, so what do we do next? You won’t be able to walk around at night, so we gotta enjoy the day as much as we can!”

Geord’s words seemed to snap her out of her reverie. After a brief moment of surprise, Misha was back to smiling. “I want to see the lakefront altar. I heard the people who won’t be able to go tonight are already putting their lanterns there, so there are probably a lot already. Shydein said it’s decorated with flowers too, so it should be really pretty even in the daytime.”

“Good idea. Why don’t we buy some lanterns and take them ourselves? The guy in charge will set them all alight at nighttime, so they’ll get burned up even if we’re not there.”

Geord started after Misha, relieved to see no trace of the darkness that had been in her eyes a moment prior.

Since they had so much time, they decided, instead of buying a finished lantern, to stop at a stall selling just the frames so they could decorate one themselves. The shop had colored paper, paint, and small glittering stones to work with. Some of the paper had already been cut into a variety of patterns, and they were free to use any of it. Whether they were aiming for unparalleled beauty or eccentric uniqueness, the only limit was their own creativity.

“You’re quite good at this, young lady. How did you make those flowers?” asked the lady running the stall as she saw Misha wrapping thin pieces of paper into flowerlike shapes.

Recognizing it as honest admiration and not just politeness, Misha gave an embarrassed smile. The flowers she was making, three-dimensional decorations in a variety of sizes, looked professionally done. “It’s actually easier than you think. You take one of these white pieces of paper and cut it in half. Then you paint the edges...”

As Misha began demonstrating the process, two other women working on lanterns nearby asked to join in.

Giving a small sigh of relief at seeing Misha happily talking to her small group of students, Geord then turned back to face the harsh reality in front of him. He had no skill when it came to art, and he knew it. He was willing to give it a try since Misha was so interested, but he never would have done something like this on his own.

“Misha, do you think this is salvageable?”

Since it was officially called the Moonflower Festival, many people used a flower motif in their decorations. Geord had figured he would just draw some flowers on it, but when he was done, he was left with only a splash of unrecognizable color.

Having just finished teaching, Misha turned at Geord’s voice and was immediately stunned. The brilliantly colored lantern in front of Geord was a sharp contrast to his bitter, defeated expression.

Once the lantern was lit, it would throw off a beautiful multicolored light, but Misha could tell from Geord’s face that this wasn’t the result he had been hoping for.

“You said you’re good with a knife, right?” Misha asked, gently pulling the paper off the lantern so it wouldn’t rip and drawing simple lines to create flowers on it. “Try cutting along these lines. If possible, leave the pieces you cut out intact too.”

“Got it.” Rather than the small knives prepared for them by the stall, Geord pulled out his more familiar belt knife and got to work. Though he had no aesthetic sense to speak of, his dexterity with his fingers was incredible.

After cutting out the flower shapes, Misha covered the holes with more sheets of thin white paper, then reattached the flower cutouts in other places.

“Whoa! That looks incredible now!” Geord said, imagining how light from within the lantern would pour out of the new flower-shaped holes. All of the flowers Misha added were white or pale, giving the whole lantern a remarkably refined look.

“All thanks to the coloring you did,” Misha said with a smile, showing her own lantern, which displayed the bright flowers that Geord had cut out, making their two lanterns look like a perfect match. They both were decorated with strips of paper cleverly crafted to look like leaves and vines.

“Huh. Now they make a pair. Sounds like a good idea for lovers or close friends. I should try suggesting that later,” the owner of the stall murmured to herself, trying her hand at making the flower decorations in the way Misha had just taught her. She also sold some premade decorations for those who didn’t have the time or skill to make anything for themselves. The more elaborate decorations were more expensive, making the creations inspired by Misha one of the higher priced items in her shop.

“A lot of people make them with the idea of seeing how they light up at night, but three-dimensional work like this makes them fun to look at during the day too. Thanks for the lesson,” the owner said with a smile, thinking about the profits she could still make with half a day still ahead of her. There were plenty of similar stalls around the city, so anything that set hers apart from her competitors was a welcome addition.

“No, thank you! This was a lot of fun!”

As thanks, the owner let Misha keep her lantern for free. Misha was just as happy, though, so she continued by folding paper into a small bird and leaving it on the display piece the owner had set out. While the owner stared stunned at the decoration, in disbelief she could make something that complex out of folding a single sheet of paper, Misha and Geord left the stall behind. They might have had a lot of time on their hands, but they didn’t want to risk being asked to stay longer for Misha to give additional lessons.

“Let’s drop them off at the altar, then.”

“Yeah.”

Lanterns in hand, they headed for the shore of the lake. Since most of the lantern-making stalls were situated quite close to the beach, it didn’t take long for them to arrive. As they walked, the number of people carrying lanterns like them started to grow.

“Is that where we’re supposed to take them?” Misha asked, pointing at a line of people beside the plain wooden altar.

“Looks like it. Apparently, people used to just throw the lanterns all over, which created some problems when they went to start the fire. I guess Tris did mention something about them being more organized this year. I think they borrowed some knights to get it done—probably,” Geord muttered to himself.

Misha sighed. “I know it’s a holiday, but could you take your job a bit more seriously? You’re going to make Tris mad again.” She knew Geord didn’t like it, but being so close to Ryan meant Geord actually had a high rank within the knighthood. While he was reliable enough when it came to taking command of his subordinates, Misha had heard plenty of Tris’s complaints about how Geord sent delegates in his place to all the important meetings and ran off.

“Don’t worry, I’m doing my job,” Geord said with a shrug as they joined the line.

The line seemed rather long, but thanks to the reception being well staffed, they moved through it fairly quickly.

“Next, please.” In short order, they were called to the front, where they were greeted by an unexpectedly familiar face.

“Mr. Mort!”

The young man taking their lanterns was none other than the one who had first guided Misha through the library. He was actually Tris’s younger brother, but his standing in society getting out would be more trouble than it was worth, so he had dyed his hair gray and started work in secret. He always seemed busy, but whenever they met at the library, he would take the time to recommend some books to her. He was always quite helpful.

“Oh, I see you made it to the festival.” Mort was equally surprised to see her, but his shock soon gave way to a smile. “Please write down how many lanterns you’re offering here,” he said, handing Misha a pen while he took the lanterns from her and Geord.

“So they pulled you guys from the library too, huh?” Geord commented.

“The library is closed for the second day of the festival, so half of the staff was sent to help here.” Mort looked around a little bit, frowning as he failed to find any other escorts for the pair. “You didn’t bring Misha out here without permission, did you?”

“Don’t worry, everyone’s just undercover,” Geord said quietly, before continuing much louder in a joking tone. “Would you hurry up? We don’t have all day.”

“Come on, please tell me you got permission to bring her here. My brother is going to be furious with you,” Mort sighed. Taking the lanterns, he looked at them with a bit of confusion.

“These decorations are a bit too complex for something ready-made. And they look way too good for something you made. Did Misha make these?” Knowing full well that Geord lacked artistic skill, Mort took a small jab at him while Misha finished signing for the lanterns.

“We made them together,” Misha replied. “Geord painted and cut them for me, so he did plenty of the work himself.”

“Yeah, that’s right. They’re great, aren’t they?” Geord puffed out his chest proudly.

“Yes, yes. Misha must be quite skilled to be able to account for all your failings.” Geord glared at that, but Mort ignored him, handing the lanterns back to Misha and urging her forward. “Go ahead and place your lanterns on the altar, doing as that priest over there tells you. Have a good day.” Mort then called the next person in line, giving Geord no chance to respond.

The knight could only shrug, following after Misha. It was true Misha had saved his lantern from the miserable fate he had prepared for it, and it wasn’t a conversation worth stalling the line for anyway.

“You can place the lanterns anywhere in this section here,” an old priest instructed with a gentle smile. Misha took a look around.

The area had been divided up into clearly delineated sections, and the one Misha had been offered was filled with lanterns covered in flower decorations.

“How about right here?”

After the two of them gently placed their offering on the outer edge of the collection, Misha clapped her hands in prayer in front of the statue of the harvest goddess at the center of the whole display. It was a beautiful sculpture, a look of peaceful grace on her face as she sat surrounded by countless lanterns.

Please give us a happy autumn. And also...

As Misha prayed, a gentle breeze blew in from the lake like a soft caress on her face.

Chapter 2: The Night of the Festival

“I had a lot of fun today. How about you, Ren?”

Ren cooed softly as Misha brushed his fur, both of them sitting on the floor after returning from the festival. His special brush was made from stiff boar hair, so it ended up feeling like a massage on his skin. Recently he had taken quite a liking to it. Even now he was lying flat on his side, lost in the sensation.

“There were so many different shapes and sizes of lanterns on that altar. Just looking at them all was a lot of fun. It’s too bad I couldn’t stay long enough to see them lit, but apparently there’s a spot in the castle where you can see the bonfire. Geord told me his secret spot, so let’s go sneak up there later.”

Misha’s happy voice was like a lullaby to the already entranced Ren, who was totally absorbed in the sensation of her firm brushing. Misha giggled at the soft sound Ren made, somewhere between a reply and a satisfied groan.

As fun as it had been, spending an entire day in crowds of people must have been exhausting for him. Misha had been a bit concerned about taking Ren, considering the city would be even more packed than usual during the festival, but Geord had assured her everything would be okay, so she’d brought him along anyway.

But while Misha had been on edge the whole time, worried about how Ren would react to the crowds, the wolf pup himself had been basking in the love and attention from everyone, and he’d snapped up the scraps of meat that various stall owners tossed his way as they passed.

Apparently, his experience in the castle had acclimated him to the presence of strangers, as he never so much as balked at new faces reaching out to pet him on the street. And according to Geord, Ren had remained alert, keeping a steady eye on the people passing them by. It seemed his training with the watchdogs in the castle was bearing fruit. Misha was really proud to see how much he was growing even when she wasn’t around.

As the sun began to set, Geord brought Misha back home, where she quickly had a bath and returned to her cabin. After making dinner and organizing all the things she had bought over the day, she didn’t have any real plans for the rest of the day. Lalaya and Ryan were out of the castle, visiting various churches across the city as part of their royal duties.

While the Moonflower Festival was intended to celebrate the coming of summer, it was also a time to pray for a good harvest to come. Members of the royal family couldn’t just sit back and have fun the whole time.

“I hope she doesn’t overwork herself and get sick again. Maybe I should adjust her breakfast for tomorrow.”

Although the princess was healthier now, she was still weaker than the average person, so Misha spent some time ruminating over nutritious herbs she could add to the morning meal.

Catching the change in Misha’s tone, Ren opened his eyes slightly to look at her, but Misha was too lost in thought to notice. He cocked his head in confusion as Misha’s hands stopped. Deciding that the brushing must be over, he stood up, stretched, and gave his fur a quick shake. He then moved on to his prize of the day, a cow bone wrapped in skin that Misha had bought for him from one of the stalls they’d visited.

“Oh, had enough brushing already?” By the time Misha came back to reality, Ren was fully absorbed in his toy. Misha noticed he had already made quite some progress into it, the tip already having been chewed off, meaning he must have been at it for some time. With a shrug, she put away the brush.

Despite the young wolf being fully absorbed in his snack, something caused Ren’s ears to snap to attention, and he nimbly jumped to his feet. He turned to stare at the door, and after just long enough for Misha to get curious about his behavior, a knock sounded.

Kino’s quiet voice came from beyond the door. “Excuse me. Are you present, Lady Misha?”

Ren’s tail gave a single wag.

“Yes. Is something wrong?” Misha hurriedly replied, and the door swung open in front of her to reveal Kino standing there in the usual butler uniform.

“Sir Kite Dyson has requested to see you,” Kino said, putting a hand to his chest in a polite bow. “Would you like to see him at the castle, or shall I guide him here?”

“Kite? What does he want this late?” He hadn’t mentioned anything about coming to see her during the ball the night before, so it was odd for him to be calling for her now, she thought as she stood up. “No need to make him come all the way here. I’ll go see him. Would you mind taking me to him?”

Even though she had already had her bath, she had planned on going to see the burning of the lanterns later with Ren, so she was already back in her usual dress. As such, she didn’t have to worry about her appearance before heading out. She wasn’t in any kind of formal wear, but that hardly mattered at this point.

“Very well.” Familiar enough with Misha to have expected this, Kino set off without hesitation.

“Let’s go, Ren!” After a bit of hesitation, she urged Ren, who had been politely sitting by while she spoke to the butler, to come along. Misha didn’t know what Kite wanted, but if it took very long, it might run into the time they needed to see the burning of the lanterns. The castle was big enough that they might miss the whole thing if she had to come back and get Ren afterward.

With a happy bark, Ren stood up and trotted after her.

Kino gave the pup a quick glance but otherwise said nothing. In truth, the staff of the castle had already been informed that Ren was permitted to accompany Misha anywhere she went in the castle. It was Misha’s own idea of manners to keep him mostly at her own cabin, though now that they had grown used to their new accommodations, he also had free rein over the gardens surrounding it too.

On top of already having permission, Ren was obedient and didn’t object to people stroking his luxuriously soft fur, so the staff had fallen in love with him. Many people had started taking walks through Ren’s garden during their breaks to see him; he was quite the mood booster.

“Sorry for the wait, Kite! What’s wrong?” Led to a waiting room, Misha found Kite standing alone within.

With a small smile, Kite rose from the sofa where he was seated and walked over to her. “I’m sorry for bothering you so late. Actually, we received orders to depart Redford early tomorrow morning, so I wanted to come say goodbye,” he explained, escorting her to the sofa opposite his.

A bit self-conscious about Kite’s “nobility mode” behavior, she nevertheless allowed him to guide her to her seat, eyes widening as his words sank in. “You’re leaving tomorrow morning?”

Of course, she understood Kite wasn’t visiting Redford for the fun of it. He was here to bring Misha some belongings in her father’s stead, who was still unable to travel due to his injuries. It was only coincidence that he was here during the Moonflower Festival, his attendance at the royal ball a result of circumstance rather than planning. His most significant job in Redford had been to deliver the duke’s letter to the king, so if he hadn’t been ensnared in Misha’s dance practice, his time in Redford likely would have ended with little more than a short audience with Ryan.

“I already thought that was too much responsibility for me, but then I was given a formal invitation to the ball and asked to be your escort. I was totally out of my depth,” he had grumbled once while the two were walking through town together. That said, unbeknownst to him, formal wear for the ball had been included in his luggage just in case such an invitation happened, so it seemed the duke had been aware of the possibility.

At any rate, now that both his actual job and his unexpected participation in the ball had finished, there was little reason for the envoy from Bluheitz to remain in Redford. Misha had known they would be leaving sooner or later, but that wasn’t supposed to be for at least another few days. She had been hoping they’d have another chance to go play in the city together before he left.

“Why so soon? Did something happen?”

“No, it’s nothing serious, but...” Kite replied, patting her on the back in reassurance at the trembling in her voice as she took her seat. “Sorry, but this involves confidential information about the duke’s family. Would you mind stepping outside?” Kite asked, looking at the maid pouring tea for them and Kino standing ready at the far wall.

“As you wish. We will be just outside, with the door slightly open,” Kino replied with a polite bow of his head after a short pause, stepping outside of the room with the maid once she had finished serving the tea. He couldn’t leave Misha entirely out of sight, but he could at least step far enough away that he wouldn’t be in earshot. That was the best concession Kino could make for them with his jobs of both protecting and learning about Misha. At the very least, it would mean that publicly, this conversation never happened.

Once he saw the door was mostly closed, Kite leaned forward. “Just to make sure... Do you wish to know what happened to Lady Rosmaria and Lady Lyla?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Misha’s face stiffened. Rosmaria and Lyla, her father’s wife and her own half sister. They were the ones who had so persecuted Misha’s own mother and ultimately ended up killing her. Those names coming up out of the blue brought Misha right back to that moment.

The image of her mother, hand reaching out as she fell.

The sound of someone screaming.

And then...

She knew she had to respond, but her mind had gone totally blank, so her mouth just hung open, her voice coming out but failing to organize itself into words. As the memory of her mother spun in her head, her lip started to quiver, and she unconsciously bit down on it.

Her sudden stiffness and the hollowness in her eyes took Kite by surprise as well. And though he stood to move to her side, before he could reach her, Ren had jumped up on her lap and started licking at her face. He then pushed her over, rubbing his face against hers.

“Hey, Ren... Ren! Stop! Cut it out!” Overwhelmed by the sudden attack, Misha struggled to push Ren off of her, but there was no stopping his momentum. Giving her no room to breathe, Ren was a nonstop flurry of licks, nuzzles, and pokes with his snout.

Ren’s sudden movement had made Kite freeze halfway between sitting and standing, but as Misha started futilely protesting the wolf pup’s behavior, he started moving again.

“Hey, calm down. What’s with you?” Though he had grown, Ren was still considerably smaller than Kite, and so he could only growl softly as the knight swooped in and lifted him off the hapless girl.

“Ren! What’s gotten into you?!” Finally free from the fluffy menace, Misha was left with her hair a mess, her face flushed, and her breathing ragged from her failed attempts to save herself. But the shadow that had come over her face earlier was long gone. Kite instinctively gave Ren a gentle squeeze in his arms. And then, with the wolf pup still in his arms, he sat down beside Misha.

“Kite?” Misha tilted her head in confusion as she caught her breath, unsure as to why he had moved so much closer to her.

Kite gave a bit of a troubled smile. “Your hair’s a mess. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Ren’s never done something like that before. I wonder what got into him? Anyway, sorry. What were we talking about?” She gave an awkward laugh, softly patting Ren on the head where he sat in Kite’s arms. “Maybe the festival today was a bit too much stimulation for him. You can’t do things like that, Ren. If it was anyone else but Kite here, they would have gotten really mad at you.”

Ren gave a soft whine at the scolding tone, ears lying flat as if accepting her rebuke, but his tail was still gently swishing back and forth.

Though he didn’t let it reach his face, the exchange between the two of them had Kite rather troubled. He realized Misha had forgotten what he had said just before Ren had “attacked” her. It wasn’t like she was ignoring it; it was like it had completely slipped from her memory. After a moment of thought, Kite decided to let the whole topic slide. He didn’t understand what had happened, but his instincts told him this was ground he shouldn’t tread.

“No, it’s nothing. Sorry for the sudden change in plans. Actually, the wife of one of our men has fallen sick recently. It’s nothing serious, but since she’s pregnant, they sent a mail bird with the news. It’s their first child, so he wanted to go back as soon as possible. Sorry for surprising you.”

Misha blinked a few times at Kite’s awkward explanation.

“His wife? She’s pregnant? Oh, that’s terrible!” Pregnancy and childbirth were life-threatening endeavors. It would be all the more unsettling if it was their first child. For her to grow sick—and at a time when her husband was gone, no less—Misha could only imagine how harrowing that must have felt.

“I’ve got some nutritional supplements she can have! They’re leftovers from what I made for Lady Lalaya, so I can send some back with you. I’ll go get them right away, so please wait here a second!” she declared, jumping to her feet and bolting from the room, slamming the door behind her.

Kite gave a heavy sigh. “So it’s not that she doesn’t want to hear it—it’s just still painful for her to remember.”

It had been a sudden, unfortunate accident. However, those involved were all of the same opinion that it had been inevitable. Why had they come into conflict? Why hadn’t they been able to settle their differences? Those left behind had no recourse but to answer those questions for themselves, left to suffer quietly on their own.

Among all those suffering, Misha had seen her mother die right in front of her eyes. It went without saying that she would be hurt more than anyone. Kite understood that, but the bright smile she had worn over the past few days had led him to the wrong conclusion.

“I guess it’s still too early to talk about all that,” Kite sighed again, pressing his face into Ren’s fur. Apparently it was an unpleasant sensation for the wolf pup, as Ren’s nose scrunched up briefly before he wormed his way out of the knight’s arms.

“Oh, sorry,” he apologized, but his sighing didn’t stop.

The unfortunate reality was, given the current situation, he wasn’t sure he could afford to not say anything.

“Honestly, what a pain this all is...” Kite sighed again, eyes cast up at the ceiling.

Kite’s unit was being called back to Bluheitz after receiving a report that Rosmaria had disappeared from the sanatorium she had been forced into.

At first there had been talk of a divorce between her and the duke, but her family had already moved on to the next generation, the position of the family head now in the hands of Rosmaria’s younger brother. The two being on bad terms meant she had nowhere to return to.

On top of that, her son Hydgene was deemed to be without fault in the whole situation, so had been permitted to remain as the duke’s successor, so long as he worked to unlearn some of the values instilled in him by his mother’s education. Some people argued that treating his mother too harshly could give birth to an unnecessary grudge in him.

As unscrupulous as Rosmaria was thought to be, the misappropriation of her husband’s money had been deemed just barely within the domain of what could be forgiven, and she had taken a very apathetic, hands-off approach to child-rearing, so fault in the children’s upbringing could be thrown at the feet of those around her going rogue.

Whenever Deenoark had attempted to interact with his children there had always been someone to interfere. If he had time to spend on them, Rosmaria’s narcissism had demanded he spend that time with her instead. “He’s my husband,” she had insisted, much to the chagrin of Deenoark’s close associates.

That obsession left no room for doubt as to her faithfulness to her husband. As twisted as it was, it was clear she loved him. That said, the servants and knights she had brought from her own family into the marriage had been brutal in their embezzlement and persecution of others, so as their leader, Rosmaria was responsible for their behavior as well. A majority of their evil deeds had been done to please Rosmaria in the first place, and it was reported that she dealt very severely with anyone who made even the slightest mistake while serving under her.

The decision as to the suitable punishment for her changed numerous times, but in the end, her power and authority had been stripped, and she had been confined to a sanatorium within the duke’s territory.

“I didn’t know anything! It was all my servants acting on their own!” she had wailed, but there were none who would take her side. She might have found some sympathy if she were a young woman newly married, but she had been married to the duke for over a decade and had two children of her own. Her role as the wife of the duke was not only to manage his home but to have a hand in managing the entire duchy. An excuse like that would never fly.

After first arriving in the sanatorium, she had alternately wailed and raged against her situation, but within a month she had calmed down considerably. Or rather, people assumed she had likely just given up, as Deenoark’s staff manning the facility met each tantrum with superficially polite coldness.

Instead, she had turned to alcohol, drinking enough she could have bathed in it if she so chose, falling into a life of depravity that had her sleeping well past noon each day. Deciding it was better than her ranting and raving, the staff had left her to her own devices.

But the days she spent holed up in her room had led the staff members to let down their guard. One morning, concerned after receiving no summons for a great length of time, one of the maids peeked into her room to make sure she was okay, only to find no trace of her. Naturally they immediately dispatched as many people as they could muster to search for her, but having discovered her disappearance so late, they found no sign of her even after three days.

On top of that, a review of the staff she had brought from her family into the duke’s estate revealed that one of her servants had gone missing at the same time. This servant wasn’t a simple butler who served her day-to-day, but a Shadow—an agent known to work behind the scenes, doing whatever dirty work she required. Though it was somewhat strange that the other servants and knights couldn’t even clearly recall the man’s appearance, that strange relationship had provided him the leeway to slip past the surveillance they were all under.

The review unearthed only a couple pieces of information on him: His name was Anno, and Rosmaria had found him when he was a child dying on the streets. She had taken him into her household, where he did menial, laborious work. His long hair, combined with his penchant for looking at his feet, meant his face was often obscured. Combined with the way he mostly spoke in mutters and murmurs, most people found him creepy at best.

But when pressing Rosmaria’s family for more information, they learned that Anno had received training from the Shadow serving the generation before Rosmaria’s, a discovery they couldn’t ignore. No doubt he had used his peculiar behaviors to slip into hiding, waiting for the right opportunity to break Rosmaria out of the sanatorium.

Concerned that Rosmaria or her Shadow might act on their grudge against Misha, Kite’s unit had been ordered to return to Bluheitz immediately. With Rosmaria being a pure-blooded aristocrat, even if she were on the run, there was no pretending that she would put up with rough and untamed game trails, so Kite’s unit was to split into three and return to Bluheitz along the three major highways leading into Redford.

Kite had wanted to warn Misha of the potential threat just in case, but judging by the girl’s response earlier, that would do more harm than good.

“But I want to do something.”

With only two years experience serving the duke as a knight, Kite was very much at the bottom of the hierarchy. He had barely even seen Rosmaria’s face during his service. From what he had heard on the job, Rosmaria was the typical example of an aristocrat’s wife. She was second only to the duke in terms of people Kite was sworn to protect, but surrounded as she had been by retainers brought from her own family, there had been little room for the duke’s knights to do anything for her, and so there was virtually no relationship between them beyond simple shows of courtesy.

Her children were similarly sheltered from the outside, so the duke’s men had little contact with them either. It was customary for the mother of highborn children to see to their education, so there wasn’t much room for anyone else to comment on her methods.

That said, with Hydgene positioned as the duke’s heir, once he turned eight, he began to interact in a limited manner with the knights, giving him his first interactions with people outside of his mother’s circle.

In contrast, Lyla had stuck to her mother like glue. Even when they encountered her by happenstance walking through the halls, Lyla would look at them as if stepping around a filthy stain on the carpet—that is, when she didn’t entirely ignore their existence. Since she was young, sheltered, and sensitive, most people shrugged off her attitude. It was no surprise that she saw people who wielded weapons for a living as barbarians or savages. But for Kite, who was much closer to her in age, her attitude was rather irritating.

His experience with her had been part of why his initial reception of Misha hadn’t been particularly friendly. Even though he’d known it was an emergency, he had been fully conscious that he was meeting her as a knight covered in filth from the battlefield. He had no idea how the daughter of a duke would react to his appearance, save that it would be cruel and harsh.

Granted, those expectations had been betrayed in the best way, but...

“Well, I guess Lady Lyla has changed somewhat too,” he thought aloud, recalling his last meeting with the girl.

Though it hadn’t been intentional, the fact of the matter was that the barely fourteen-year-old girl had taken another person’s life. Overwhelmed by regret and fear, she had locked herself in her room and barely ate anything. The confidant, obstinate girl had lost everything resembling ambition or aspiration. Even when she slept, she was tormented by nightmares, making it difficult for her to rest. As expected, the lack of proper sleep quickly took a toll on her appearance.

Even so, perhaps due to some misplaced pride in her noble station, she refused to so much as utter an apology, constantly muttering about how she had done nothing wrong.

During that time, Deenoark had recovered to a point where he could speak with his children, and so he met with her and Hydgene. No one outside the room knew what was discussed inside, but when the trio came out long after they were expected to finish, the family decided to go visit Misha’s home in the forest. That said, Deenoark was still not healthy enough to ride a horse and was still busy handling the fallout of the end of the war.

Few people knew the precise location of the forest home, and Deenoark wasn’t keen on letting more people know about it, so a small number of people who had already been there, Kite included, were sent instead. The group consisted of Lyla, Hydgene—who insisted on seeing the house as well—a man to ride with each of them, and two additional guards. Though it was a startlingly small group, considering their desire to keep the outing a secret, they had decided they couldn’t afford to bring anyone else.

Kite had ended up riding with Lyla. As much as he’d wanted to object, he had no authority in his position within the knighthood to do so. So he obediently followed the same road he had run down with Misha, this time with her half sister on his horse.

It took them half a day to reach the house. After a long, winding journey through the trees, Lyla was stunned to see the small cabin Misha had once inhabited. In her eyes, the simple accommodations were akin to living in destitution.

On the journey back, Lyla had been very quiet, her expression dark.

“She couldn’t handle her responsibilities, so she abandoned them all and retreated to the woods to live in luxury with her daughter. And as if that weren’t enough, she kept taking father’s precious time, even though he was so busy. That’s what mother always told me. But she was lying, wasn’t she? I was such a fool. I just wanted to stay on mother’s good side, so I never thought about things for myself a single time, never looked around with my own eyes...”

Those words she had murmured on their way back had stuck with Kite.

Afterward, Lyla had requested that she be sent to a monastery. She wanted to offer up prayers for the life she had accidentally taken in hopes Leyas would find happiness in the next world, and she longed for that quiet environment to rethink how she saw herself.

Officially she would be there as an apprentice nun. Depending on her behavior within the monastery, there was a chance of her returning to the secular world eventually, but as of yet there was no saying when that might happen.

The majority of those who knew of Lyla’s haughty personality assumed that as laudable as her moment of self-reflection was, it wouldn’t last long. Only time would tell whether they were right or wrong. As for Kite himself, he felt that something had changed in Lyla during their short journey together, but that was something he wasn’t about to share with anyone.

After quite a long wait, Misha finally returned with the promised medicine.

“There wasn’t as much as I thought, so I made some extra. I also have some salves and painkillers for my father,” she said when she finally returned, coming into the room balancing bottles of various medicines and ointments in her arms. Kite simply nodded and accepted them from her.

Misha probably hasn’t moved beyond her mother’s death nearly as much as the people around her seem to think. That may be a bigger hurdle than even she realizes. Trying to talk about all this will just hurt her. It’s better if I just warn those around her about the potential danger and let them take care of it.

That was the conclusion Kite had reached while he waited for Misha’s return.

Luckily it seems they’ve been very strict in choosing who to position as her attendants, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem.

There was that butler, who had so brazenly tested Kite on his arrival in Redford, and the maids who showed all kinds of emotion on the surface but always had a calm and collected look in their eyes. When Kite and Misha went out to explore the city, there were always guards watching them from just out of his line of sight. And though he hadn’t met any of them face-to-face, Kite had encountered many signs of those known as Shadows keeping an eye on her.

Just how tight does their security have to be?

Kite was just starting to get tired of listing the numerous and unique people surrounding and protecting Misha when she finally returned. She had given him plenty of time to come to his conclusion.

Misha seemed to have entirely forgotten that he had brought up Rosmaria and Lyla, judging by the way she “invited” him to come see the burning of the lanterns with her, pulling at his hand without waiting for his answer. To Kite, that looked very much like an unconscious defense mechanism. With that realization, even knowing how improper it was for a foreigner like him to be walking around the castle at night, he didn’t have the heart to refuse her. So he allowed her to pull him along, and he ended up climbing a tree with her like he was a kid again.

“Wow, it’s beautiful.”

“Yeah. You can see the city from lots of places in the castle, but I was told that if you wanted to see the burning of the lanterns, this is the best place.”

Misha and Kite sat in a large tree in the corner of the castle garden. At first it looked like climbing the large tree would be a challenge, but it had been surprisingly easy for the two of them to scale it and position themselves in its upper branches.

The most interesting part had been when Kite had been puzzling over how to get Ren up with them, and Ren had simply hopped out of his arms and bounced up the tree, branch to branch, on his own.

“I’ve never seen a dog climb a tree before.”

Misha burst out laughing at Kite’s shock. “I looked into Ren’s background. It seems like he’s an albino jumping gray wolf. They’ve got sturdier hind legs than other wolves, so they’re good at jumping. The book I read said that while they’re not great at climbing, they can hop from branch to branch like that to get up trees. Apparently they come from the Isu Mountains, so a pack of them must have come down south looking for food and established themselves here.”

Misha tried to lift up Ren’s hind legs to show Kite, but the wolf pup evidently didn’t appreciate it, as he scowled and hopped up to a higher branch to escape. Misha and Kite laughed as they turned their attention back to the city.

The lanterns gathered around the large altar built on the edge of the lake went up in an enormous blaze. Sparks scattered into the night sky, their light reflecting off the lake to create a beautiful, fantastical light show. Each of the lanterns had also been lit, adding countless sparkles to the greater bonfire at their center.

“Misha...do you like it here in Redford?” Kite murmured, looking down at the great crimson pyre reflecting beautifully off the lake.

Misha glanced at him briefly before returning her attention to the spectacle below. “Of course. There’s so much to see, so many books to read. There are some things that leave me kind of bewildered at times, but everyone is so nice. I’m always wondering what I should do the next day.”

“I see...”

The sun had fully set, and while the flames below were beautiful, they were too far away to illuminate the pair where they were sitting. The moon and starlight were too weak for either of them to make out the other’s expression clearly. Even so, Kite stared into Misha’s face with the intensity of a man searching for some deep truth. Misha refused to return the expression, so after a long moment of silence, Kite finally laughed.

“I’m glad you’re having fun. I guess you’re friendly enough that you can manage even in a place with few friends. Besides, seems like you’ve made plenty here.”

And then he reached out and gently stroked her hair. The uncharacteristic gentleness finally got Misha’s attention, and now she turned to look at him.

“You know, Misha... I’ve never lost one of my parents, but I have lost close friends in battle. So I know a little bit of how you feel.” Again, the gentleness in his smile seemed so unlike him, but Misha found herself unable to pull her eyes away. Kite continued stroking her hair, correcting the mess the night breeze had made of it.

“Where on earth were you playing this time?”

Suddenly Misha thought she heard her mother’s gentle voice. After spending a whole day running around the forest, she would come home with a large basket full of plants. Leyas would always laugh, cleaning up Misha’s messy hair as she listened to her stories of the day. Those were their usual, normal days while living in the forest, but they had been so precious to her.

“Suddenly you can never see them again. You can’t talk together, you can’t laugh together. You know that in your head, but it’s so hard to really make sense of it, right? Because just the day before, you were laughing together. You were making plans for what to do tomorrow,” Kite continued, his voice soft as his gaze turned distant.

His first deployment had been hell. Running with everything he had, desperately trying to kill others for no reason other than that he didn’t want to die... It was an inevitable experience for anyone who wished to be a knight. He had thought he was ready for it. He’d told himself he’d regret nothing, because he had his loved ones to protect.

But sometimes, the memories would come back unbidden: the dead faces of friends he’d promised to go out and eat with after the battle, and the faces of his enemies, lying drenched in crimson beneath his blade. They both had the same expression.

Anguish. Terror. Regret. And a little—just a little—relief.

“Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, when it’s really quiet. All sorts of thoughts go through my head. ‘If only I had done this... If only I had done that, then maybe they’d still be laughing at my side.’ Or, ‘Why did we ever start that war in the first place?’”

Misha listened silently as Kite continued. She couldn’t quite see in the moonlight, but she believed his expression was as gentle as his hand on her hair.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m talking about. This isn’t like me at all, is it?” Kite’s distant gaze suddenly returned to Misha, and she could tell he started to smile. “But... No matter what happens, we’re still alive, so we have to keep living. I’ve always thought people need to be able to smile. So I think you’re doing great.” Then his smile twisted as his face turned forward. “This festival is supposed to ask for a good harvest, but those lanterns are also supposed to illuminate the future, so apparently some people make wishes when they offer their lanterns.”

“Yeah, they told me,” Misha replied, turning to follow Kite’s gaze toward the lake. Though it was hard to see from this distance, she could barely make out countless figures of people gathered around the altar. She supposed Anna and the boys were there somewhere too.

For a while, they stayed quiet.

Kite broke the silence, back to his usual way of talking, making Misha feel like she had just snapped out of a dream. “I also made sure to wish that you’d be happy so that you have nothing to worry about.”

She then realized what he had said, and burst out laughing. “What do you mean ‘also’? You wished for more than one thing? What else?”

“Oh, all sorts of things. But don’t worry, I offered one lantern for each, so they’ll definitely all come true.”

“Wow, that’s awfully greedy of you!” Misha giggled, drawing a laugh from Kite as well.

The two spent a good long while watching the fire under the moon and stars.

The next morning, Misha stood at the city gate to see off Kite and the other men from Bluheitz, the sun not yet having pulled away from the horizon. The special gate she had arrived through was wide open, but the gate for ordinary traffic was still shut tight at this hour, so there were few people around. They had been out late saying goodbye the night before, so Kite told her she didn’t have to come see them off, but Misha had no idea when she’d ever get to see him again, so she made sure to be there anyway.

“Tell my father to make sure he doesn’t overdo it, okay?”

“Understood. I’ll make sure he gets the medicine too, so don’t worry about him,” Kite replied, fastening his cloak to his metal breastplate and slipping his sword into his belt.

While they were traveling well-maintained roads, there was no guarantee they’d be safe from bandits, so these were all necessary precautions. Though Misha was used to the sight from her own journey to Redford, seeing the men all wearing swords still had her a bit uneasy.

“You be careful too. I’ll be praying for your safe journey.”

“Nothing happened on the way here, so I don’t think you need to worry. Though I’m sure you will anyway, so I’ll ask them to send a mail bird once we make it home,” Kite replied nonchalantly, at last turning Misha’s frown into a smile.

“Okay. I’m worried about your wife too, so make sure to tell me how she’s doing,” Misha called out to one of the men behind him, who replied with a smart bow.

“Thank you for your concern.”

Misha had handed over all the medicine for her the night before. His reply was a bit stiff, owing to the fact that while his wife was indeed pregnant, she was also in perfectly good health, to the point everyone around her lamented the fact she refused to ever sit still. But Misha didn’t need to know all that. There was no telling what would happen across her long pregnancy, so he was still just as thankful for Misha’s gift. The fact it was based on a lie still made him feel a bit awkward, though.

“Okay then, we’re off. Give Captain Shydein my regards.”

As he had declared he would, the captain had found work and a place to live within the city, and so he would be staying there alone. Shydein had been their carriage driver on the journey to Redford, but with so much of their luggage off-loaded, the knights would have no problem guiding the carriage back to Bluheitz themselves.

“Miranda isn’t back yet, but I’ll do my best to help them connect!” Misha declared, balling a hand into a fist.

Kite laughed, patting her on the shoulder. “You don’t overdo it either. Even if she refuses, it’s not the end of the world. The captain is being greedy enough as it is in just asking if the People of the Forest are capable of making a working prosthetic.”

Prosthetic arms and legs already existed for those who had lost limbs in battle or in accidents. Most of them were simply wooden poles secured in place with cords. The more elaborate examples had large joints built into them, like knees and elbows, but they required operation from the outside to move, like a marionette.

“An artificial limb you can move with your mind, huh? I hope it’s possible.” Misha had treated a number of soldiers besides Shydein who had lost limbs in the war.

“I’m just glad I’m still alive,” they always said with a smile. Their lives would still continue, though work and daily life would become many times more difficult for them. How wonderful would it be for them if they had properly working prosthetics instead of the cheap replacements they had now?

Misha’s face turned wistful as she imagined it, drawing a wry smile out of Kite.

She’s thinking of medicine or something again, isn’t she?

He had spent enough time with her to recognize those moments. And once she was lost in thought, it was a long time before she’d come back. Normally he’d patiently wait for her to finish what she was thinking through, but unfortunately this time he didn’t have the time for it, and he could already feel the impatient looks from his comrades.

“Okay, we’re leaving now,” he said, plopping a hand down on top of her head to snap her back to reality.

Misha came back to herself to see Kite looking down at her with that wry smile. “Oh no! I’m sorry! I got lost in thought again!”

Kite smiled, telling her it was okay, then turned to go. The other members of his unit were already mounted and waiting for him.

“See you later,” he said, climbing onto his own horse and waving.

“Yeah! Thanks for everything! Let’s see each other again someday!” Misha shouted as the men started down the road.

Just before they disappeared from view, Kite spun in his saddle to look back and wave. Misha could just barely tell that he was smiling. She stretched as tall as she could and waved back, but Kite was already facing forward and didn’t turn around again.

“See you again...”

So no one could tell what expression she wore as she whispered one last goodbye.

Chapter 3: Goodbye to Caro

“Over here, Misha.”

As usual, the pair met at the entrance to the royal library. Guessing they wouldn’t have the time to meet up during the festival, they had promised to get together the day after the festivities had concluded. Just as Misha arrived, someone called out to her, and she turned to find Caro, who was smiling as always.

“Sorry, did I make you wait?” Misha frowned.

Caro hurriedly shook his head. “Don’t worry—I just got here. I called out because I got excited when I saw you.” A faint blush joined his angelic smile, drawing a matching smile out of Misha.

“Yeah, I’m excited to see you too,” Misha said with a giggle. “What should we do today?”

Normally they stayed at the library and read books together, but since this would be their last day together, Caro had invited her to go out somewhere. Unlike with Kite’s departure, she had known from the start that Caro was only in the city for the festival, so she wasn’t as shaken by his time in the city coming to an end. That said, she was still sad to bid him farewell after having become good friends. So Misha was determined to make the most out of their last day together.

“Why don’t we start by walking around the city for a bit?” Caro suggested, eyes sparkling. Apparently, he felt the same as she did. “The festival is over, but I heard a bunch of the stalls are still open.”

Those sparkling eyes reminded Misha of the way Ren reacted to being told they were going on a walk; she had to struggle not to burst out in laughter.

“Good idea! I checked it out yesterday, so I know all about everything there. I’ll show you some places with great food.”

This time it was Caro’s turn to stifle a laugh. She was so proud of all she’d learned yesterday, but Caro was there every year. If she thought about it for a second, she’d realize he knew much more than she did.

But he decided there was no need to spoil the moment. “Okay then, I’d love to see!”

Though he wanted to formally escort her, that was a bit of a challenge with their height difference, so Caro settled for holding Misha’s hand as they ran through the streets.

“Leave it to me!” Misha replied fervently, shaking Caro’s hand in hers. Having someone rely on her seemed to make her excited in a way that made her look even younger than she really was. “It’s a bit early, so you’re probably not hungry yet, but are you thirsty? Do you want something to drink?”

Misha’s rapid-fire questions as they approached the city square finally broke Caro, and he started to laugh. “What’s wrong, Misha? Why are you so tense?”

Misha’s cheeks turned slightly red. “Because it’s our last day together! I want to make lots of memories before you go.”

It had only been a handful of hours since she had said goodbye to Kite, so that was still a sensitive topic stuck in her head. She had unknowingly worked herself up thinking about how Caro would be leaving soon too. Now that he pointed out her behavior, she realized how odd she was acting, but she didn’t have the words to explain what she was feeling, so she settled for a small pout instead.

“I’ll be here until the afternoon, so we have lots of time. No need to rush,” Caro said with another laugh, consoling her with a gentle swaying of their clasped hands. It was starting to get difficult to tell who was supposed to be the older of the two. However, the gentle reply helped Misha calm down.

“Yeah, you’re right. No point in rushing.”

“So why don’t we start by getting a drink and taking a look around?” Caro suggested. “I hear there’s lots of stuff from outside the country for sale this year.”

“In that case, let’s start over there. They have a juice made from a fruit that only grows in the Rega Mountains and also one from nuts imported from Sullivan.”

“From nuts? Not fruit?”

“Look forward to it.” Misha giggled as they walked.

Seeing the two kids enjoying themselves, one of Misha’s bodyguards gave a sigh of relief from a short distance away.

Ganz had been quite surprised when he’d received a notice late last night that the envoy from Bluheitz would be leaving early the next morning, but Ganz had no other plans, so he’d met up with Misha a bit earlier than originally planned for her to see them off. Misha, still half asleep, had been quite apologetic as they’d made their way to the castle gate. Despite having said goodbye to the envoy with a smile, she had spent the rest of the morning in low spirits, leaving Ganz in a worried state. Being the poor talker that he was, he couldn’t think of anything he could say to comfort her, so all he could do was watch over her as usual.

Despite how mature she acts, she is still a young girl. Seeing people from home may have left her feeling homesick.

She had been down for so long that Ganz had been starting to consider asking Geord for help, but once they made it back to the castle and had breakfast, she’d rebounded to a state of peculiarly high energy. The sudden change had made Ganz rather uneasy.

But it looks like His Highness has managed to lift her spirits.

The revelation of Caro’s true identity had thoroughly stunned Ganz, but it seemed the boy and Misha had developed a good friendship, so neither of their guards had issues with them continuing to interact. In fact, Caro’s escort rejoiced at the friendship, saying that now there were twice as many people to deal with Caro’s ridiculous requests. Ganz wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that.

“Huh? What the heck? That’s so weird!” Caro exclaimed as he saw the rumored juice made from nuts.

The man running the stall brought down a large knife on a nut the size of Caro’s own head. After a few swings, the knife finally managed to break through the solid shell, shaving off the top of the nut. The man then flipped it upside down in a pot. In short order, a purple liquid steadily poured out.

“This is a rare nut that only grows in Sullivan, called a drydas. Its hard shell holds a lot of water, so it survives well in hot, dry climates. If you boil it, the juice gets even sweeter, and the color turns darker. It’s delicious stuff.” Caro’s reaction was apparently not uncommon, as the man running the stall explained with a laugh before handing him a small sample.

“Huh. It smells really good.” After taking a quick sniff, Caro gulped down the sample before his escort could stop him. “Whoa. It’s sweet, but surprisingly refreshing,” he commented nonchalantly before turning back to Misha. “Do you want some of this flavor?”

Misha nodded happily. “I had some yesterday, but it only comes from Sullivan, so I want to drink as much of it as I can—in case I never get another chance!”

With that confirmation, Caro ordered two cups.

“Wow, you’re quite the little gentleman, making sure she was okay with it before ordering,” the man at the stall teased as he poured two cups for them.

Caro looked away with a sniff. “You didn’t have to say ‘little’!”

“Oh, I guess that was rude. Here, as an apology.” The man chuckled, adding a slice of some red fruit to the rims of their cups before handing them over.

“What’s this?”

“It’s shupshup. Similar to an orange. It’s a bit sour, but very good,” Misha explained with a happy laugh. “I tried it yesterday too. It was really good, so I was hoping to get some more today. Thanks, mister!”

As Misha took her cup and thanked the stall owner, Caro picked up the small slice of fruit and took a small bite. It was more sour than the oranges he was used to, but it made a great combination with the sweet drydas juice.

“Mister, do you sell the drydas nuts whole?”

“Oh, you like it that much, do you? Well, I’m closing the stall after today, so I can sell you one or two if you like.”

“Thanks. If you have any left at the end of the day, I’ll buy those too. You can discuss the details with him,” Caro said with a smile, pointing to his escort. The man, watching the two kids together with Ganz, slumped his shoulders. He muttered something under his breath, but Misha couldn’t catch it. But Caro apparently did, as a mischievous grin took to his face. “If you do a sloppy job, it’s coming out of your pay,” he murmured, getting a quiet whimper out of the guard.

“I’ll be busy for a bit, I guess. Please take care of them for a minute,” the guard said to Ganz as he moved to talk with the stall owner while Caro and Misha linked hands and started away.

“Shouldn’t we wait for him?” Misha asked, glancing back at the guard, but Caro shook his head.

“Nah, he’ll follow us soon enough. Besides, we’ve got lots of other guards in hiding around us, so we’ll be fine.” Caro shrugged off her concern with a bright smile, getting a quiet “Oh, okay” out of Misha.

This was a route they had walked many times before on their way to the library, so Misha didn’t feel like they were in any particular danger either.

Besides, we’ll be okay if Ganz is with us.

More than anything, her trust in her own escort was enough for her.

“Okay, where to next?” she asked with a bright smile, convinced everything was fine.

Everything should have been fine...

“Let’s eat by the water.”

“Good idea. We can have a picnic.”

They had thick-cut steak sandwiches and seafood skewers. Dessert was cookies with dried fruit baked into them and an assortment of sliced fresh fruit. With Caro’s worn-out escort (once he caught up with them) and Ganz at their side to carry things for them, the two kids held nothing back when buying food.

Since they had two grown men with them, they assumed nothing they bought would go to waste even if they went a bit overboard, and so they grabbed anything that caught their interest. After taking their spoils down to the waterfront, a small tent was set up for them in short order. Within were not chairs and a table, but rugs and cushions for them to sit on the ground, adding to the picnic-like atmosphere that Caro had mentioned.

“They get things ready quickly, huh?” Misha stared, amazed.

“We’re still pretty close to the library, so they brought all the stuff from there—probably.” Caro nodded calmly.

He really is nobility, taking stuff like this in stride, Misha thought as she accepted Caro’s invitation to sit down. The rugs were so thick and soft that she couldn’t feel any of the hardness of the ground beneath them. It must have been quite a pain to drag them all the way out here, she thought, but she didn’t share that out loud.

All the food that they’d bought was arrayed before them, and a tea set was brought out and tea prepared, bringing the setup for the picnic to completion in no time. The tent blocked out the strong summer sun, allowing the breeze off the lake to cool things down. Having little experience with this kind of street food, Caro found it a lot simpler and crude compared to the refined cooking he normally ate, but it was delicious all the same. He didn’t have to think much to come to the conclusion that it was the influence of Misha, happily stuffing her face beside him. Before long, he found himself doing the same, and by the time they were finished, he felt full to bursting.

One little thought, and everything changes so much. He gave an amused smile at his own plight. Normally so concerned with nutrition, now he only cared that it filled his stomach.

As they enjoyed their post-meal tea, Caro continued to chuckle to himself, a sight Misha found strange while she picked at the leftovers of their dessert.

After finishing up their lunch, the two of them borrowed a small boat and rowed out onto the lake, gliding quietly across the water.

“You’re good at rowing, huh?” Misha commented. She had been surprised when Caro said they’d be fine with just the two of them, but Caro had proven he was quite skilled with the oars.

“I’ve lived outside the city my whole life, so I’ve had lots of chances to practice. I can also ride horses and drive carriages.”

He said it as if those were nothing, but those were significant accomplishments at his age. Misha was about to say so, but there was a hardness to Caro’s expression that made the words die on her tongue. In that awkward silence, the boat continued to glide away from the shore.

“Umm, Misha...” After rowing out far enough that they couldn’t discern the faces of the people on shore, Caro finally stopped. As skilled as he was, Caro was still a small boy; rowing a boat on his own was a considerable workout. When she saw the sweat pouring from his forehead, Misha pulled out a handkerchief.

“Good work. Let’s relax for a bit.”

“Thanks,” Caro replied, sighing as he accepted the handkerchief. “Misha... I know things around me are kind of weird. Why have you never asked about who I am?” he asked, his hands squeezing the handkerchief.

Misha blinked a few times. “Why...? Well...” Caro’s sudden question made her think back across their experiences together since they first met.

Their first meeting was Caro suddenly calling out to her, inviting her to his mysterious little room in the library. They had a great time drinking tea and talking about the books they were reading. They played outside with Anna and the boys, and Caro once even saved Misha from a rather scary experience. They were all precious memories to her. But the way Caro had asked—a tormented expression on his face—made it clear those weren’t the “strange things” he was talking about.

“Uh... Because you’re you?” Misha murmured after a short while, not quite confident in her answer.

“Because I’m me?” Caro echoed, confused.

“I figured, based on the way people around you act, that you have to be the son of some high-ranking noble.”

They had met in the royal library, after all. Even in her ignorance of the world, Misha recognized that if he were merely the son of a wealthy merchant, he wouldn’t have had access to that secret room. There were plenty of things in the world that money couldn’t buy. But the greatest confirmation for her was that Ganz, a bodyguard sent by the king himself to protect Misha, had made no move to stop her from getting to know Caro.

“But it looked like you were trying to hide it, so I figured if we’re just having fun playing and reading books together—who cares about your parents?”

“Who cares?!” Caro shouted as he jumped to his feet, shocked by Misha’s flippant response. The boat beneath them shook, so Caro was quickly brought back to his senses and sat back down. He was comfortable enough with swimming, but flipping the boat all the way out on the lake would be a huge hassle. Misha gave a small yelp at the sudden movement of the boat, but it seemed more like she was enjoying herself than scared of anything.

“Yeah. I was worried for a bit that you’d say stuff like ‘I’m really important, you know!’ and be mean to everyone, but you weren’t. You were really nice with Anna and the boys.”

Caro had played with the others like they were equals, even though normally people would have gotten angry at commoners acting so friendly with someone of such high status.

“I mean... It was fun, so...” He had never spent time with common children before, so the experience had been a string of unexpected developments, but it hadn’t been at all unpleasant. It was the first time Caro had really laughed. At least, he had no memory of laughing like that before.

He had always been taught that laughing out loud and shouting were unrefined and boorish, things he had always been scolded for. The way he walked, the way he sat, the way he spoke, the way he ate—his etiquette instructor heckled him over every little thing he ever did, but he knew making the instructor angry would just make things worse for himself, so Caro had always done as he was told.

As such, there were a lot of things he’d never known before he met Misha—like how fun it was to laugh with people, to run around until you were out of breath, instead of quietly hiding beneath the brim of your hat. He imagined he would never forget the flavor of biting into that strangely shaped tomato those kids had offered him.

“Yeah. It looked like you were having a lot of fun, and I was having fun too, so I didn’t think I needed to ask. I thought that if I learned the truth, we might not be able to stay friends like this.” Misha gave an awkward smile.

Misha was aware of how ignorant she was of the ways of the world, having grown up secluded in a forest, but she had still been given a proper education. While it was vague, she nonetheless had some understanding of the relationship between nobles and commoners.

So she had decided to turn a blind eye to it all. For the sake of this young boy, who knew so much more than any other child his age, whose every action dripped with refinement and elegance—whose eyes were so cold as he stared at others.

Caro gave an awkward smile of his own. “I didn’t want that either.”

Caro thought of the polite, courteous expressions the adults always laid upon him. The only ones who acted with any level of honesty toward him were the guards who spent every day with him. That was really the reason he put up with them.

Seeing Caro’s eyes turn downcast, Misha decided to take advantage of the fact it was just the two of them, reaching out for Caro’s hat. “You know, Caro, I really like the color of your eyes and hair.” The breeze over the lake ruffled his curls, which glittered gold in the sunlight.

Caro squinted for a while with the sun now in his eyes, and for a moment it seemed like he was bracing himself for something, but finally a smile snuck through. A sudden pain assaulted him, like something had taken a hold of his heart and squeezed. It was painful yet simultaneously pleasant. He had difficulty describing the sensation, and that made him happy.

Misha always teaches me new feelings like this...

He had learned about Misha in his uncle’s study. It was clearly an engineered coincidence, but he had nevertheless been curious, and so he’d decided to approach her. His original interest had been due to his assumption that he and Misha would be alike. He’d quickly discovered that was not the case, but the more he learned about her, the more curious he got. By the time he realized what was happening, she had already become someone he couldn’t look away from.

Even the mastermind who had plotted their meeting couldn’t have imagined that Caro, a cold and indifferent child who never showed interest in anyone, would get so attached to Misha. That thought caused a feeling to well up in Caro that made it impossible not to grin.

“I like your hair better,” he said softly. “The color is really gentle.” Then he reached forward, gently taking a handful of Misha’s hair that had been waving in the wind, and gave it a soft kiss.

The way he did it so naturally left Misha stunned before she started an embarrassed giggle. “Wow, you’re just like a prince!”

Not just like a prince, Caro thought, but he kept that to himself, instead giving her a smile and a wink.

“Really? Did I look cool?”

“Yeah, very cool!”

The gentle wind over the lake carried the sound of their laughter across the water.

As they finally rowed back to shore, they found the tent they had used for lunch was gone, and now only their two escorts remained. It very much seemed like they were saying it was time to say goodbye. Misha and Caro shared a look. Time passed by so quickly when they were having fun that they couldn’t help feeling a little sad now. One of the guards, a man who was always with Caro, handed him a small box.

“Here, Misha. This is a goodbye present for you.” With a gloomy expression, he passed it to Misha.

“What’s this?” Misha asked, inspecting the box and its pretty ribbon once she held it.

“A pen and some stationery. You can’t send anything directly to my home, but if you leave it at the library, they can get it to me. So, would you mind keeping in touch?”

“You want me to write to you?” Misha blinked in surprise at the unexpected request.

Caro grabbed her hand and squeezed. “I was thinking about it a lot, and I decided I don’t want this to be goodbye, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to come back to the capital before next year’s festival, so I thought it would be nice if we could write letters to each other...” His bright blue eyes wavered, afraid she would refuse.

Misha replied to that lack of confidence with a bright smile. “I’ve never exchanged letters with a friend before. That sounds great. You’ll write back to me too, right?”

Caro’s expression immediately brightened. “Of course! I’ll send them to the library, so you can go pick them up there!”

As Caro beamed at her, Misha placed an amulet around his neck. It was a small pouch made of brown cloth, embroidered with an exotic design reminiscent of vines. It was rather simplistic, but obviously great care had been put into the geometrical patterning on it. It was beautiful.

“This is...”

“Where my mom came from, this kind of embroidery is used to wish for others’ happiness. I’m not as good at it as my mom was, but I did my best following her example. I hope you like it,” Misha explained with a shy smile, pulling out her own good luck charm to show him. Its embroidery featured the same pattern. The main difference between the two was that the colors on Misha’s were quite faded, illustrating just how long hers had been with her.

“Is there something inside?” Misha’s pouch was round and thick, catching Caro’s attention. Misha gently stroked the amulet.

“Lots of things. They’re my treasures. It taught me to collect things that were important to me,” she replied, a somehow lonely look in her eyes.

Caro reached for his own amulet, feeling something hard and solid inside. “Is there something in mine too?”

“Oh, that? It’s a small, pretty rock I picked up when I was little. I’ve always had it in my amulet, but it’s the same color as your eyes, so I want you to have it.”

Caro opened the pouch and flipped it upside down. A rock the size of the tip of his thumb tumbled out onto his hand. Just like Misha had said, it was a beautiful little stone, bright and blue as if it had been painted with the same brush as the summer sky.

“It looks just like the stone on my mother’s ring,” Caro murmured. There was only a slight difference, a kind of golden glimmer inside the one Misha had given him. Looking closer, it seemed like there was a tiny bit of stardust within the stone.

As Caro inspected it intently, Misha gave a mischievous smile. “Hey, why don’t you put it in the sunlight?” Misha urged him to open his hands wide. And when he did...

“Huh? The color changed?” The moment the sunlight struck it, the stone turned from blue to green.

“Weird, huh? When light goes through it, it changes color. And they’re our colors too! It’s like proof of our friendship. Isn’t it great?” Misha giggled happily at Caro’s surprise.

His mother had always worn that ring with its bright blue stone. He had been told it was the same color as his father’s eyes, so seeing it always drew complex feelings out of him. That same shadow had reared its head as Misha handed him the bright blue stone, but the moment the light struck it and it changed to green, those feelings were blown away. The glittering speck of gold within the transparent green stone pulled at his heart.

“Yeah, it’s really beautiful. I’ll be sure to treasure it. Thank you, Misha!” Closing his hand tight around the stone, he looked up at her with a smile bright and clear. “Okay, I’ve decided. I’m going to keep my identity a secret for a little longer!”

He had actually planned on telling her that he was the heir to Redford on his departure. He thought that was the most valuable thing he had to offer. But after talking to Misha now, he realized that his identity wouldn’t be any advantage to her. It would just be a weight and an obstacle to her.

She’d probably treat me the same if she knew I was the last king’s son, but I feel like it would still put up a wall between us.

So his intuition told him, forged from the experience of countless adults swarming around him trying to gain some advantage for themselves. The light shining in Misha’s eyes was exactly the opposite of what he saw in theirs.

“Once I’m a bit older and a bit more confident in myself, then can I tell you?”

Seeing the serious look in Caro’s eyes, Misha swallowed her bewilderment and nodded. Then she took his hand in both of hers and looked straight into his eyes. “You tell me whenever you’re ready. I think that’s best. I’ll always be ready to listen, okay?”

Caro had to stifle a comeback. Evidently Misha had misunderstood what he was worried about, but he decided to let it slide.

Which book was it that said having secrets made people more interested in you? Caro thought slyly, though he kept on the angelic smile he was known for.

“I’ll be in touch. And I’ll be looking forward to getting your letter too, so write soon, okay?” Caro said.

“Okay!”

And that was how Misha gained her very first pen pal.

Chapter 4: The Specter That Shatters Peace

With Kite having gone back to Bluheitz and Caro no longer coming to the library, Misha was spending her time lazily around the castle, still feeling fatigued after her sudden involvement in the ball. However, another reason was keeping her there: Lalaya had collapsed again.

Even someone as healthy as Misha was feeling exhausted. Though Lalaya’s condition had improved significantly, she had always had a weak constitution, so it was more or less expected that she would collapse.

When Misha had taken out all the medicines she had prepared in advance for that inevitability, not only Lalaya’s maids but even her doctors had looked at her strangely.

Why? We know it’s going to happen, so we should be prepared, right? Telling her to take it easy will never work, so what’s wrong with being prepared for when she overdoes it?

Misha was similarly taken aback by the strange reactions everyone gave her.

Meanwhile Lalaya herself, after having experienced being bedridden so often, had seen this one coming too. When Misha arrived with a slightly different colored juice to what she was used to, she accepted it without complaint.

“I told you not to push yourself,” Misha said.

“Yes, you did. But thanks to you, I was able to meet with and talk to so many people this time. You’ve really helped me.”

Seeing Lalaya take Misha’s scolding without lashing out, Carrie and the other maids started getting teary-eyed, saying, “The princess is all grown-up.” Even the doctors who happened to be there shared a surprised look. Misha, however, just frowned, putting a hand to the princess’s forehead to check for a fever.

“What’s with that reaction?! How rude!”

As such, her usual temper was back in a flash, but even that was cause for smiles all around.

Three days had passed since the end of the festival, and with Lalaya’s condition improving, Misha decided to pay a visit to the royal library. She hadn’t asked how far Caro had to travel to get home, but she figured if he was going somewhere in Redford, he was probably there by now. Considering how excited he had been about the idea of writing letters, there was a good chance his first one might already be waiting for her at the library. Even if not, she could leave one for him.

Caro’s gift to her had been a beautiful little stationery set, a pen engraved with miniature flowers around its body, together with pale-green paper imprinted with images of the same flowers. The paper was so thin, she felt like she should’ve been able to see through it, but at the same time, it was remarkably sturdy and even water-resistant. It would definitely survive a journey by mail bird. Misha was ecstatic to discover how special the whole set was. Figuring it was good manners to write her first letter to the person who had given her the set, she quickly drew up a thank-you letter for Caro.

Telling Kino she wished to go out, she ended up with a happy surprise as Geord happened to be free, and so volunteered to be her escort for the day. She had no complaints about her usual escort Tenz, but spending time with Geord was always special. He was always willing to go a bit too far to answer her requests, so he was the adult she relied on more than anyone as well as a close friend.

Misha gave a polite bow as she met Geord at the gate. “Thanks for coming with me today.”

“No problem. Thanks to you, I got to skip out on a bunch of paperwork,” he replied with a grin.

“What? You’re running away from work again?” Misha had to hurry to catch up with him as he started off into the city without her.

“Yeah, just taking a breather. I finished all the stuff that really needed me before I came, so don’t worry.”

“Don’t complain to me if you get in trouble again!”

A familiar conversation repeated between them as they made their way out of the castle at a good clip.

“By the way, are you sure you’re okay without your hat today?” Geord asked once they were some distance from the castle.

“Wait, what?” Misha stopped and reached a hand for her head, feeling only her own hair. “Oh no! It’s been so long since I went out, I totally forgot!”

Misha rarely did up her hair, so while in the castle where there was no need to hide it, she always let it hang loose. On top of that, she didn’t feel the urgency of keeping her hair hidden very strongly, so it was an easy habit to slip out of. Tia had even left her hat out for her on her desk, but she had been so absorbed in thoughts of her letter to Caro that she had forgotten it.

“What should we do? We should probably go back and get it, right?” Geord had set a pretty brisk pace for them, so they were already pretty far from the castle. As Misha turned to look at the castle gate in the distance behind them, something flopped down on her head.

“Too much of a pain. Just tie your hair up with this.”

A bit bewildered by her face suddenly being covered, Misha reached up to find Geord had thrown a scarf on her.

“Someone gave it to me this morning, so I still had it in my pocket. Guess we got lucky.”

“Thanks...” she said, looking over the piece of fabric. It was beige, with a green design reminiscent of waves on it. It seemed very much like it would suit a man or a woman just as well. After a bit of hesitation, she accepted the offer and quickly used it to wrap up her hair. “Who gave it to you?” Misha asked as they resumed walking, this time at a gentler pace.

“The lady from the stall where we made our lanterns found me earlier. She gave me this as thanks. Apparently she did better than ever this year, so she wanted to thank you.”

“Oh, you mean where I made those flower decorations? Did I do something worth being thanked for?”

Geord laughed. “Your flowers were cute, so they became very popular. Probably also because they were kind of rare. Most people have never seen three-dimensional decorations made out of paper like that.”

“Really? I’ve seen them made out of cloth all the time. I thought they were cute when I saw them on hair ornaments, so I just tried to make them myself out of paper,” she murmured, thinking back to the pink flower ornament Kite had given her after their day in the city together.

Geord gave her a curious look. There was something different about her smile just then, but he couldn’t quite put it into words. Unable to explain how he felt, Geord pushed the feelings away and continued talking. “Oh, those? Apparently the decorations she used to make are quite different. She liked yours because they were way easier to make. She tried making yours out of cloth too, for hair ornaments and bags and so on, and they were pretty popular. It’s really created a great uptick in her business.”

Misha laughed. “I guess she normally runs a store selling accessories, right? I’m glad I was able to help. I bet you’d get some cute ones if you used wide ribbons or lace. You could sew in some pleats for them too.” Misha started listing off more ideas before Geord hurriedly stopped her.

“Hold those thoughts. The stall owner asked me to bring you by her store later so she could thank you in person, so save all that for her. I won’t remember any of it. This lady is really good at taking advantage of good business opportunities, so she’ll love your ideas.”

“I’m not saying anything that impressive.” Misha laughed, surprised by Geord suddenly cutting her off. “Okay then, could you take me to her shop after we go to the library? I don’t need her thanking me or anything, but I’d love to see her cute accessories.”

They continued walking with that idle talk, and shortly before arriving at the library, they noticed Yuu and Teto walking ahead of them. Misha waved to them.

“Yuu, Teto! On your way home from studying?” she called out to them, seeing the bread they were carrying. At her voice, the two boys jumped and spun to face her.

“Oh, Misha! It’s been a while. Are you heading to the library?”

“Hi, Mr. Geord. Thanks for all the fruit you gave us the other day.”

Misha smiled as she watched the boys politely thank Geord from their time together at the festival. And then she tilted her head, noticing something was off.

“Just you two? Did Anna stay home?” Misha asked, noticing the lack of the little girl that normally hung between the two boys. Misha hadn’t thought much of it until the question made the boys’ expressions fall.

“What’s wrong?”

Concerned by their reaction, Misha knelt down to look the downcast Yuu in the eye.

Now looking down at her, Yuu was clearly anxious.

“Anna...got sick. She has a fever. We think she has the same thing granny has. It was really bad, so mom made her stay home.”

“She complained a lot because we had a test today, but we couldn’t risk her spreading it to anyone else,” Teto said, showing the bread and cookies he was holding.

“A test? Oh right, you get rewards if you do well,” Misha murmured, recalling the explanation the kids had given her before. Sweets baked with sugar were quite expensive, so they were a special thing for kids in the poorer parts of the city.

“Yeah, so we’re bringing these back for her,” Yuu said, carefully wrapping up the cookies.

Misha gently patted him on the head. “That’s so nice of you.” Though it was just as rare a treat for him, he was willing to give it up for his sister, who was too sick to get her own. And she knew Teto would probably split his haul with Yuu the moment he saw that, so she couldn’t help but reach out and pat him on the head too.

“So your granny isn’t feeling any better?” Misha then frowned, Yuu’s words catching up to her. She was disappointed in herself for forgetting about their sick grandmother after saying she would help.

“She felt better after the medicine you gave us, but once we ran out, she got sick again...”

“You should have said something. I would have brought you more.”

The two boys silently looked at their feet.

Geord couldn’t help but sigh. Having grown up in the forest of a foreign country, Misha had no idea of the value of the herbs that she used in her medicines. He had heard stories during their journey to Redford of when she and her mother had traveled to various villages around her forest giving people medicine for free. Any compensation they received came in the form of meat or vegetables. With that as her primary experience giving out medicine, not even her time working with the royal herb garden had helped her recognize how valuable these plants could be. In her eyes, medicine was just something you gave to people who needed help.

Meanwhile, in Redford, medicine was almost always something that had to be imported, and so it was typically quite expensive. Taking medicine from a friend of their children without paying would have been an absurd idea to the adults in the family. It was easy to imagine them telling their children quite strictly not to bother Misha for any more.

After a moment’s hesitation, Geord plopped a hand on top of Misha’s head. “So, what are we going to do?” It would be easy enough to explain how the situation came to be, but he knew Misha would want to help these people more than anything. If they didn’t get involved, both the adults and the children could do nothing but wait for someone else to come along and help them. The issue with adults was that they had things like responsibilities, obligations, and pride—things they wanted to protect even at their own expense.

Misha hesitated for a moment. “Can we go pay Anna a visit?” she finally asked the boys.

“Are you sure that’s okay?” Yuu responded, his face twisting. His grandmother and his little sister were both sick. He wanted Misha to come help them more than anything. But even at seven years old, he understood how valuable medicine was. He knew it took a lot of money to get it, so he had fully understood when his mother had told them not to press Misha for help. Anna was the one who couldn’t grasp the idea, leaving Yuu and Teto to try and console her as she just asked “Why not?” over and over.

But...but...

While Yuu was on the verge of tears, and Teto watched him with obvious concern, Misha grabbed the both of them in a big hug. “I already told you, didn’t I? If my friends are in trouble, I want to help. If there’s anything I can do, I want to do it. You three were my first friends here in the city.”

Misha’s gentle whisper finally broke the floodgates; tears started down Yuu’s face.

“E-Everything... Everything’s gotten weird,” he said. “Not just granny. Everyone around us is starting to get sick, but they’re all trying to be sneaky about it, like it’s some big secret. I... I don’t get it...but it’s really scary...” The fear building up in his chest poured forth as he began to sob. Teto also started to cry, watching his friend break down.

These kids saw what was going on around them far more than their parents realized. Even if no one explained anything, they could tell something was wrong, and that caused fear and anxiety to start building up.

“Yeah, I understand. It’s really scary, but you’ve been trying really hard to keep it together, right? It’s okay. I’m going to go and make everything better.”

Misha’s expression turned grim as she consoled the two boys. People around them were all getting sick, and the adults were trying to hide it. There was a clear future that pointed toward. A glance backward showed Geord’s expression was just as grim as hers.

“There’s no way of knowing without checking...” Misha whispered so the boys wouldn’t hear her over their own crying, but the concern in her tone reached Geord perfectly. Then she raised her voice, mustering her own cheer. “So first, we need to go see for ourselves!”

She rose back to her feet and took the two boys’ hands as she started toward their home.

They arrived to find the neighborhood around Yuu’s house suspiciously quiet.

On previous visits, people had left their doors open and had been conversing in the streets, and children had been playing all around.

“It seems really quiet,” Misha commented.

“That’s because the festival just ended. Anyone who has free time is running around helping with the cleanup. It’s like this every year,” Yuu replied, still in poor spirits.

“There are also a lot of people who make extra money during the festival, so they spend two or three days afterward to relax or go on vacation, but...” Teto added with a similarly downcast expression, trailing off.

For the people living in the capital, the festival was more a business opportunity than a vacation. Among all the fun, the influx of tourists had them working themselves to the bone, so the days after the festival were a chance to catch their breath. Normally, that time was quiet but happy, filled with a sense of satisfaction and fulfillment.

While they walked, Misha turned her attention to listening to the city around them. She could faintly hear the sound of people coughing from behind closed doors. That must have been why Yuu felt like there were a lot of sick people around.

But even if they were sick, having all their doors and windows shut tight in the heart of summer was very strange. Misha could tell something was off despite having been here only a handful of times. It was no wonder Yuu and Teto, being much more familiar with the place, felt so uneasy.

Misha picked up the pace, shooting Geord a glance beside her. She was very much taken aback by the deep scowl on his face. He never frowned like that. He was always smiling, looking like he was having a great time.

“Things seem...kind of off, y’know?” Geord said, noticing Misha’s gaze. He then took a small breath, relaxing himself. “I’m okay. Don’t worry about it.”

Seeing the return of his usual smile, Misha nodded and turned back to the two boys she was following. “Is there anyone with your granny and Anna right now?”

“Grandpa is looking after them, but granny can’t get out of bed, and Anna was told not to leave the house, so he doesn’t actually have much to do. He said he’d be fine taking care of them on his own, so mom and dad left to help with the cleanup.”

“Okay, so it really is quiet just because no one’s home, huh?”

The influx of tourists during the festival was a great business opportunity for capital residents. At the same time, it was an important event to pray for a bountiful harvest so they would have enough to survive the coming winter. So even those who were struggling to get by always made the time to create and light beautiful lanterns as well as to offer flowers. Once the festival was over, even the busiest of them would help with the cleanup.

“Speaking of which, how is your family, Teto?” Misha asked. Since he was Yuu and Anna’s neighbor and they interacted a lot, Misha was curious whether his family was sick at all, but Teto shook his head.

“Everyone’s fine at my place, but I was told to stay away from the sick people, so I haven’t been able to see granny at all.”

As Teto’s shoulders slumped, Yuu clapped him encouragingly on the back. “Same for me. I haven’t been able to see granny either. And since Anna got sick, they want me at your house all day.”

Misha frowned again. If it were a cold they were worried about, quarantining the patients away from the children so strictly was rather overkill.

As they approached Yuu’s house, a scream suddenly split the air, and Misha instinctively broke into a run. Recognizing where they were now from her previous visit, she slipped through the alleys between buildings to find the house she was looking for. Among the crowded buildings was a small, single-room shack, crammed into a tiny spot of land.

And then—

“Stop! Don’t come any closer!” A moment after Misha looked through the doorway, she immediately spun around and held her hands up to stop everyone following her. The shack’s single room was small enough she could see everything inside from where she was standing.

The curtains were drawn, leaving the room dark and stuffy. The familiar odor of sick people hung in the air, together with a distinctly metallic scent.

“Mary! Mary, hold on!” Yuu’s grandfather was climbing up on one of the beds within, frantically calling his wife’s name.

Noticing something was clearly wrong, Geord grabbed Yuu and Teto to stop them from rushing into the house. As he did, he caught a glimpse of Misha taking off her scarf and wrapping it around her head so as to leave only her eyes exposed. Then she started inspecting her hands closely for any cuts or scrapes. She pulled out some kind of translucent cream from her pocket and rubbed it over her hands, arms, and any other skin that was exposed.

“Geord, don’t let anyone in here until I say so,” she said emphatically, looking Geord in the eye, before calmly stepping inside the house and walking over to the bed. “Please move. I’ll examine her,” she said, lightly tapping the grandfather on the shoulder and urging him to move aside.

Turning at her voice, he froze at the sight of the girl wrapped up so that only her eyes were exposed, but she was still familiar to him. His instinct to argue died on his tongue as he saw the look in her eyes. Those bright green eyes—so reminiscent of the vibrant forest—were cold and hard, entirely emotionless, and left him entirely unable to think. Before he knew it, he was stepping away to make room for her.

Paying him no more mind, Misha turned her attention to the elderly woman lying on the bed. She must have been suffering greatly. The bedding was a mess. She was lying curled up on her side, and her clothing was torn and disheveled over her chest. What should have been stark white sheets were dyed bright red with fresh blood. Her eyes were closed tight, and she gave no response to people calling her name, so she appeared to be unconscious, but the faint sound of wheezing indicated she was still breathing.

Misha took a towel from a washbasin beside the bed and started cleaning the blood off the old woman’s face. She then wrapped the towel around her fingers and stuck them into the woman’s mouth, checking to ensure her throat wasn’t blocked. As she did, a strange odor washed over her, the scent of blood mixed with something else. It smelled somewhat sour, something Misha felt was familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it.

She was curious, but she had more pressing matters to attend to, and so she put the question aside and continued her examination. Peering down Mary’s throat, she saw it was red, inflamed, and raw—perhaps due to lack of nutrition.

“Mary, can you hear me? Mary?” Misha whispered into her ear to ensure there was still no response, then lifted the woman’s eyelids. The sight made her gulp. The whites of her eyes looked like they had been painted red.

“They’re so red...”

At Misha’s murmur, the grandfather shrieked, scrabbling backward. Misha paid him no mind, peeling back Mary’s clothing and inspecting her inner elbows and abdomen. Misha frowned. Red lines snaked their way across her skin.

Vomiting blood. Bleeding in the eyes. Red lines like worms across the skin. They were all symptoms of the same plague that had brought the capital to its knees once before. The records of that time Misha had read out of curiosity all came back to her in an instant.

The first signs of the plague looked quite similar to a common cold. As it progressed, it became a fever, vomiting, then vomiting blood, violent coughing fits, and trouble breathing. At the end, the victim lost consciousness. Once the bruises like red lines across their skin began to show, the next step was death. The plague had taken the name “Red Eye” because of the bleeding in the eyes that accompanied that last stage.

The method of transmission was unknown. The original cause was unknown. With no understanding of the disease itself, the only treatment possible was to administer a fever reducer and an anti-inflammatory medicine, then to keep the patient isolated. In the end, the mysterious plague passed on as the seasons changed, but it had taken a quarter of the population with it. The king and queen at the time had been victims along with everyone else.

“Geord, send a message to the royal clinic. We have a case of the Red Eye plague. Judging by the situation, there’s a possibility it has already spread through this whole area. Tell them to make arrangements for a quarantine.”

Wails filled the air at Misha’s declaration. At some point, a group of neighbors had gathered to watch the commotion. It was a remarkable number of people considering how empty the neighborhood had felt before, and now they all stood overcome by terror. To the people of the capital, the Red Eye plague was a death sentence. Memories of that horrible time had only begun to fade, but now they’d been revived once more. No small number of those gathered immediately started to run.

One of the onlookers, an elderly man, called out to Misha with a trembling voice. “There’s no way, right? This has to be a mistake!” He had sick people at home too.

Misha hesitated. “I’ve never seen it for myself, so we’ll need the royal clinic to issue an official diagnosis, but as far as I can tell, all of the symptoms line up,” Misha replied softly, looking him straight in the eye.

A ripple went through the crowd, an unmistakable wave of despair.

“I’m sorry, everyone, but please go home and stay inside. I’m sure more information will come shortly. If there is anyone sick in your households, make sure you cover your mouth and nose like I am when dealing with them. Don’t touch any blood or waste with your bare hands if you can help it. In particular, be careful about any cuts or scrapes you have. We don’t know how the plague spreads, but in most cases, disease spreads through contact with fluid from a sick person.”

The people gathered looked around at each other. No one moved, prompting Geord to step forward.

“Everyone, I’m sure you’re confused and anxious, but please do as you’re told. We will be taking care of this situation.”

Geord’s hard voice was finally enough to pressure the crowds to start moving, in no small part helped by his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. Of course, they also wanted to get away from the dying old woman in front of them. Perhaps she had the Red Eye plague, but they didn’t know yet whether that was what they had. Staying here would increase the chance they caught it, though.

“No need to call your family to come back home. Just stay indoors,” Geord called out after them as they left. If news of the Red Eye plague’s return spread through the city, it would start a panic.

The festival had brought many people to the capital. Although many of the visitors had already started on their way back home, there were still more people than usual in the city.

At Misha’s insistence, the stunned old man finally got moving, preparing new sheets and clothes for his wife. Though frail and weak, Mary was still breathing. Her flame hadn’t been extinguished yet.

Ensuring the old woman was on her side in case she started vomiting or spitting up blood again, Misha finally stepped back outside.

“Misha...” Yuu and Teto, both on the verge of tears, fixed their sights on her.

After giving them a small nod, she went to a small sink in the garden to wash her hands and removed the scarf around her face. “It’s kind of a waste, but please throw away her clothes and sheets. Either burn them or bury them somewhere,” she instructed as the old man came outside, and she had him wash his hands and gargle.

“Is granny...going to die?” Yuu whispered, as if afraid asking the question would make it come true.

Misha hesitated for a moment before walking over and kneeling down in front of him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know. We don’t know how she got sick or how we’re supposed to treat her, so I don’t know what medicine will make her better.”

“What?!” Yuu cried. “But you promised you’d save her!”

Misha winced. “Yes, I did. So I’m going to start researching it now. I’ll find out how to make things better. So you make sure to encourage her too, okay? Help her beat this disease,” she said, putting her hands on his shoulders.

They stared at each other quietly for a moment. Then, still holding back tears, Yuu slowly nodded.

“Good boy.” After patting him on the head, she stood up and turned to his grandfather to give him a few more instructions.

She told him to keep her lying on her side so that if she vomited again her throat wouldn’t get clogged. If she vomited or spat up blood, in no circumstances was anyone to touch it with their bare hands; they would cover their hands with some kind of cloth while cleaning it up. Making her eat while unconscious was too dangerous, but they could at least give her a bit of water. However, they had to be careful not to touch her saliva while they did so. They needed to constantly be washing their hands and gargling, and they should keep the windows open to keep the room well ventilated.

She then smiled at the boys, who had stood by listening even more intently than their grandfather was, before turning and walking over to Geord.

“You could have gone ahead,” she said.

“Not by myself I couldn’t.”

Misha’s declaration had clearly shaken the people of the neighborhood. There was a good chance they’d do something irrational like attack her. Geord absolutely would not leave her defenseless on her own.

Misha gave a small shrug. “Then let’s hurry.” She started off, walking quickly yet calmly. Considering the situation, Geord had expected her to bolt off right away, so he was quite surprised by her behavior.

“If we start running, it’ll make everyone more scared. So, only after getting around that corner...” she murmured, her gaze fixed forward.

Only then Geord noticed how tightly clenched the girl’s fists were.

“There’s a guardhouse not far from here. We can send messengers from there.”

“Okay, then. Lead the way.”

As soon as they stepped around the corner, the two burst into a sprint.

Chapter 5: War Against the Plague — The Beginning

The Red Eye plague was back. Misha’s declaration that day sent tremors throughout the castle.

Despite the unrest, countermeasures already existed for emergency situations like these, and people everywhere snapped into action. Doctors and soldiers dispatched by the castle immediately closed off the section of the city that had reported the outbreak. Those who were clearly sick were immediately moved to a quarantine and treatment facility. Immediate family members of those who were sick were either given orders to stay isolated at home or moved into a separate ward of the treatment facility for observation.

At the same time, patrols began across the city searching for others who were already sick or starting to show relevant symptoms. Word spread throughout the city that anyone who was feeling unwell was to immediately report for treatment. Anyone who hid their sickness would only cause it to spread faster. People insisted that covering for one sick family member would spell death for the whole family, so many of the sick who were hidden by their families chose to report themselves.

Unfortunately, with so little knowledge of the plague, there was little that could be done for the sick even at the treatment facility. No one knew how the disease spread; there was no guarantee that the quarantine would have any effect. But when it came to diseases in humans, common sense and experience indicated it was best to isolate people, so that’s what happened.

With no signs of recovery in any of those who were sick, the number of victims only grew, and in due time, the first deaths were reported. Only a few days had passed, and the doctors and nurses were already run ragged.

Their fatigue was less physical and more emotional, as the burden of having to watch their patients suffer weighed on them, unable to do anything for the sick. Painkillers, fever medicine, and cough medicine helped alleviate symptoms temporarily, but the patients all eventually relapsed. It felt better than just watching the disease get worse, but the doctors and nurses still had to stand by and watch as each patient continued to deteriorate.

The fact that they had no way of treating the victims meant there was no end in sight. And with no knowledge of how the disease was transmitted, they had to live in perpetual fear that they would be in that situation themselves any day.

The days wore them down little by little, but their pride as professionals served as the final bastion of resolve to hold the line.

While the city became a whirlwind of activity, Misha wasn’t willing to stand by and watch as a spectator. She was constantly reading over old reports, combing through her own knowledge, and experimenting with any herb that looked like it might be useful. She was intent on making any bit of progress in treating the plague. In order to honor her promise to Yuu, she barely even slept, completely throwing herself into researching and developing new drugs.

Even so...

“The blood they spit up is too bright. The locus of the disease has to be in the lungs. We’ve even confirmed with a stethoscope that there are abnormalities in the lungs, but none of the medicines usually used to combat lung disease have worked. I don’t get it. What am I overlooking?”

Misha bit her lip in frustration as she hung her head, looking over a scattering of papers. When she had examined Yuu’s grandmother, the woman had still been barely alive, but those red lines had now extended to cover her entire body. Misha had suppressed the fever and the bleeding in the lungs to an extent, but the medicine was merely targeting the symptoms. The underlying cause of the disease had yet to be treated, so they weren’t doing much beyond buying time.

Yuu and his parents had been kept under observation in quarantine, but after three days, they’d shown no signs of any symptoms, so they were released. However, the same could not be said for Anna and her grandfather, who had to be kept separate from the rest of the family. Anna’s parents were permitted to visit her, but because Yuu was a child, it was deemed too dangerous to allow him to see her.

The whole situation had confused Misha even further.

“Even in the same house, some people catch it while some people don’t. Why? Yuu and Anna are basically inseparable. How did only one of them catch it?”

For ordinary diseases, the more time you spent together with someone carrying it, the higher your risk was of acquiring it yourself. The current situation was so different from what Misha had studied.

Normally, she would examine a patient, and her instincts would tell her exactly what they needed, but she had no idea this time. She didn’t even know where to start.

“Mom...” Her voice was all but a whimper. The one who had always scooped her up and hugged her when she was in a pit of despair wasn’t here anymore.

Biting her lip again, Misha shook her head violently before returning her attention to the notes in front of her. They were full of things that her mother had taught her. The real book she had used to keep notes from her mother’s lessons had been left behind at her house in the forest, so this was a new one she had filled out from memory as best she could. She had written it out as a way of reviewing her knowledge, but now it seemed like her only ally in picking apart this mystery, and so she was reading through the notes over and over.

But no matter how many times she reviewed the information, nothing new jumped out at her—which made sense, considering everything had been pulled from her own memory.

“Why...? What am I missing? Is it not a normal sickness? Where did it come from? I thought I remembered everything mom taught me. Am I forgetting something? Or is this some disease she hadn’t taught me about yet?”

Misha continued to repeat those questions to herself. There was no one to offer her any answers.

The days passed by, and the situation only worsened.

Lalaya had caught the Red Eye plague. She already suffered from a weak constitution. Even a light fever would have her bedridden. Seeing Lalaya, face red as she coughed violently and sank into her bedding, Misha was dumbfounded.

Because she was so vulnerable, Lalaya’s interactions with others were extremely limited. She stayed deep within the castle. Her susceptibility for sickness combined with her personality meant she rarely left, living there surrounded by her familiar maids. Because her condition had been improving recently, she had started going out more often, but after the discovery that the plague had returned, she had stayed inside, locked down even tighter than before. Everyone had assumed there was virtually no chance of her contracting the disease. And yet...

Many of the nobles in the castle blamed Misha for Lalaya’s condition, claiming it was her coming and going that had brought the plague into the castle. Many of them were jealous of Misha, a foreigner who’d developed a close relationship with the princess so soon after arriving. Although their discontent had once abated thanks to their interest in Misha’s heritage and their appreciation of Lalaya’s obvious improvement, it now exploded.

“You brought the plague back from the city, didn’t you?” one man said.

“Assuming you didn’t start the plague in the first place. The People of the Forest are famous for destroying nations with their strange diseases, aren’t they?” another added.

While moving about the palace, Misha had found herself suddenly cornered by a group of men. The maids with her did their best to shield her, but the impassioned assailants were not deterred.

Truthfully, the plague had been discovered among the nobility at almost the same time it was discovered among the commoners in the city. Their environments couldn’t have been more different, yet the plague emerged simultaneously in both social classes. However, those who got sick among the nobility were hidden within their family estates.

Even though their condition wasn’t made public, a few families had already reported deaths. Without knowing the full scope of the outbreak among the nobility, there was a good possibility there were many more dead than were reported. The fear that they would be next had started quietly eating away at the nobility. Only a small portion of them could maintain their composure in that atmosphere, especially since they all had experienced this before. They saw the red bruises, heard the wheezing, watched people break down in fevers and coughing fits, and saw the death that it all led to.

They had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide...but now they had a person they could blame: this mysterious girl with an unnatural knowledge of medicine. After all, she was a member of that tribe of phantoms, a people renowned for destroying kingdoms that displeased them. Didn’t it make sense that the Red Eye plague was vengeance wrought by their hand?

That had to be it. There was no other explanation.

Those baseless assertions drove the men straight to violence. Small as she was, Misha had no chance in a physical altercation with grown men, and even with Isabella there trying to shield her, the two of them were simply thrown to the ground together.

“Stop it! Lady Misha is an important guest from a foreign country!” Isabella insisted. Even as they fell, Isabella put herself between Misha and the group of men.

Misha, meanwhile, was frozen solid. She was surrounded by eyes of unbridled hatred and voices thick with hostility, all aimed at her. She had never been subjected to such open animosity before. The shock and fear left her speechless.

Above all, the accusation that Lalaya’s condition was her own fault had stunned her. There was no proof of that, but her own knowledge whispered in the back of her head that an infectious disease needed an intermediary to be communicated.

Lalaya always stayed deep in the palace, living a quiet life on her own. Misha, however, walked around the city freely. Whenever she came back and visited Lalaya, she always bathed and changed her clothes before seeing her, but without understanding how the disease spread, she couldn’t confidently say that was enough. It was possible that the very person Misha was responsible for protecting had gotten sick because of her own carelessness.

Her own acceptance of that possibility crushed her more than the accusations of these strangers. She knew that the source and method of transmission of the plague were both unknown. Even so, she had assumed the precautions she took were enough. Tears welled up in her eyes as she was faced with her own foolishness.

The moment something seemed untoward, Tia had run off for help, and so Kino arrived in no time to rescue Misha and Isabella from their assailants. Even so, by the time he arrived, her heart was already broken.

“Was it my fault? Am I the one who did that to her?” Misha sobbed, tears rolling down her face as she sat locked in her room for her own safety. She couldn’t get the image of Lalaya and Anna suffering from painful coughing fits out of her head. That, and the memory of Mary, unconscious and spitting up blood.

Tia watched with concern as Misha, face pale, sat motionless on the sofa. On the table in front of her was a cup of tea, unnoticed and growing cold.

And at that moment, without so much as a knock, the door of her room swung open. Misha instinctively flinched back, but what she saw was pale blond hair and brilliant green eyes.

“You look awfully pathetic, Misha,” the man said with a sarcastic smile. “I don’t remember teaching you to sit around crying while there are sick people who need your help.”

Misha stared at the man dumbfounded as he strode over to her side—a man she had wanted to see more than anyone else in the world.

“Uncle Ryne...? Wh-Why are you here?” Misha muttered dumbly.

Ryne frowned. “I told you I was coming, didn’t I? Did the message not reach you?” He spoke like they had just seen each other at dinner the night before.

“But this is the castle! How did you get them to let you in?”

“If I want to go somewhere, there’s no one who can stop me. More importantly, what do you think you’re doing?” he followed up his unbelievable answer with a question of his own, eyes turning cold.

“What do you mean...?” Misha was all but lost for words, not understanding what Ryne was trying to say.

Ryne gave a heavy sigh. “Disease is running rampant throughout the city, so why are you sitting here locked up in your own room? That’s what I’m asking,” Ryne said, as if dealing with a child in the middle of a tantrum.

Misha bit her lip. “I haven’t stuck myself here the whole time! I’ve been examining the patients, making medicine, and investigating the cause of the disease! I’ve been doing everything I can! But... But...”

“I don’t need to hear crap about you doing your best. It doesn’t matter how hard you’ve tried if people are dying.” Ryne brushed off Misha’s desperate defense, leaving her stunned. His eyes were still cold, emotionless as he stared at her. “Have you really done everything you could? Are you just sitting in your room talking to yourself, or are you actually facing your patients? What are their complexions like? How are their bodies doing? Are you watching the disease as it progresses? Why haven’t you done any autopsies on those who have already died?”

Ryne’s words continued to echo in the otherwise silent room, Misha’s expression falling further and further.

“Why did we spend so long learning how to dissect bodies? I don’t want any excuses about how you’ve never done it to a human before. Were all those animals we hunted in the forest killed for nothing? You know more than enough to do it. I know you do. That’s why Ley and I were happy to prescribe the medicine you made to people.”

Each of Ryne’s words was like a fresh lash on her heart. Another tear streaked down her face. It was something she had considered before, but...

“But... But everyone was already so sad. I couldn’t just ask them to let me cut apart their family members.”

Although she had been taught that autopsy was a necessary part of learning medicine, she had learned from her conversation with Conan and the other doctors that the practice wasn’t seen the same way here. Surprisingly, it wasn’t required among medical professionals. Their only study of it came from books; many doctors had no firsthand experience. When Misha had questioned Conan about it, he had told her that most families weren’t willing to allow their deceased relatives to have their bodies torn apart like that, and so they had difficulty getting bodies for it.

At that, Misha had pictured her own mother’s face. Would she have been able to cut open her mother’s body like she had the animals in the forest? She could sew it up nice and cleanly afterward, but could she really open her up in the first place, take out her organs, and study what she saw?

Of course not. I’d never do that...

That realization had helped her understand those people’s feelings. Even if their loved ones were dead, people would still be sad to have them torn open like that. So when the first few deaths from the plague had been reported, she had considered autopsies, but she had looked away.

A loud slap filled the room as Ryne struck Misha’s tear-stricken face.

Misha froze solid, shocked more at the fact he had slapped her than at the pain. The room was dead silent.

“If that’s how you feel, then give up on being an apothecary right now. You don’t have the right to take responsibility for other people’s lives,” Ryne said as Misha stared back up at him, hand on her face, before continuing much softer.

“Listen, Misha. I know that in this day and age, people consider dissecting a dead body to be taboo, but there’s so much you can’t know without it. That’s what I taught you, isn’t it?”

When Misha was young, Ryne had come to visit and had caught a number of animals, which he put on a table to teach Misha how to perform an autopsy. They peeled back the skin of animals, then he showed her each of the internal organs, each of the blood vessels, and how they all connected. They also removed those organs, dissected each one individually, and learned the functions and design of each organ. Sometimes they even used drugs to put the animal to sleep before opening it up to see how its heart worked while it was still alive. She had been taught to see which blood vessels being ruptured would lead to the animal’s death, and she practiced stopping the bleeding to save them if that happened.

It was a difficult experience for Misha at that age, but she understood from how serious Ryne was at the time that it was important, so she forced herself to stick with the lessons through the tears. She remembered distinctly how Ryne would offer a prayer for the animal every time before they started and say thank you to it after they were done. She found it strange, and so she asked him why he did that.

“We’re not just eating them to feed ourselves; we’re going to use their lives to learn as much as we can. So we have to be thankful. That knowledge will help us save others in the future.”

“So, it’s thanks for saving other people?” It was the first time she had heard someone put it that way.

Ryne gave her a quiet nod. “Exactly. In the future, you’re going to face many diseases, the likes of which you’ve never seen before. There are some people you won’t be able to save, who will die despite your efforts. When that happens, you need to study them like this. A body that lost the battle to a disease becomes a book that will tell you all about it. You can learn a lot by reading it. Using that knowledge to learn about the disease and discover how to wipe it out is the greatest thing you can do to honor the patient you failed to save. And by saving those who come after, you make it so their death had meaning.”

“Really?”

“Really. They are giving a chance to people who otherwise had no way of winning against that disease. That makes them heroes, don’t you think?”

Back then, Misha had felt moved by those words. After that, Misha stopped crying during their lessons. Instead, she joined Ryne in his short rituals of gratitude before and after each session, vowing to use the precious experience and knowledge these animals gave her to become an apothecary they could be proud of.

Misha’s gaze dropped, unable to respond to Ryne’s words. She was ashamed to realize she had failed to live up to the vow she had made that day.

“At least this time, if you had summoned up the courage and done it, you would have found the cause of this disease right away.”

But what he said next made her eyes snap back to him. She couldn’t believe what he was saying.

Misha wasn’t the only one that had been desperately searching for an answer to this plague. In the years since the Red Eye plague first appeared, the doctors of Redford had failed to find a single clue as to its source. But Ryne had just shown up today, and now he claimed to know the answer already.

“You know the cause of the Red Eye plague?!” Misha blurted out.

Ryne simply shrugged with a small nod. “It’s a unique kind of parasite.”

Chapter 6: The Nature of the Plague

“It started because of the mild winter,” Ryne explained as he relaxed in his chair and enjoyed a rich cup of tea.

They had moved to one of the king’s private rooms. He was surrounded by said king and all of his high-ranking officials, yet he didn’t show the slightest sign of fear as he casually continued at his own pace.

When news had arrived that a man calling himself Misha’s uncle had appeared in the castle, Ryan had been in the middle of yet another emergency meeting concerning the plague. The news had come as a shock, but the moment Ryan heard that this purported uncle of hers had the same blond hair and green eyes as the People of the Forest, he’d broken into a sprint.

When he’d arrived at Misha’s room to see this stranger glaring down at a crying Misha, Ryan had instinctively thrown himself between them. He’d been able to clearly see the red mark on Misha’s cheek. Ryan had scowled at him but had been met with an amused smile in return.

“Misha, is this really your uncle?”

Misha hurriedly nodded, taken aback by the unfamiliar chill in Ryan’s tone. She then realized he couldn’t see her with his back turned, so she quickly spoke up. “Yes, he is. I can vouch for him. Don’t worry, he’s not just some intruder.” She could see Tris and Geord standing at the door, their expressions intense.

“‘Just some intruder’? That’s not a nice way of putting it,” Ryne said, clearly enjoying the situation.

“However, the fact that you are in the heart of the castle without permission does make you an intruder.” Ryan was still scowling.

“I just pretended I was an apothecary who’d been summoned to the capital, and they let me in without another word,” Ryne said, merciless despite his smile. “I know things are pretty rough right now, but still, your security could use some work.”

“Uncle Ryne!” Misha cut him off. “I’m terribly sorry. Please forgive his rudeness. He has information on the Red Eye plague.”

Misha’s words hit the room like a bombshell. There was nothing the people in that room wanted more than what Misha claimed Ryne had to offer.

“This room is a bit small. Let’s talk somewhere else,” Ryan instructed, likely thinking of the many officials who’d followed him to Misha’s room but couldn’t fit inside.

“Yeah, it’ll save me the headache if I only have to explain it once. But actually, I haven’t eaten anything since last night. Mind giving me something to snack on too?” Ryne didn’t have a hint of shame, prompting Misha to start silently shoving him out of the room. Now that he had reverted to the carefree uncle in her memories—no sign of the coldness he had shown on his arrival—she could allow herself a moment of relief.

They needed a table if Ryne was to eat something, so the castle staff swiftly prepared a room that could house the large number of officials that wanted to be present. Something of a bizarre tea party then began to unfold.

“You have those large white birds that fly through from the north at the start of winter, right?”

“You mean the arkles? What about them?” Ryan asked.

Every year in late autumn or early winter, there would be a week when the birds could be seen flying south to flee the coming cold. Redford was roughly the halfway point of their journey, and from there, the birds continued their flight across the sea to another continent. Come spring, they would return north to avoid the harsh summers in the south. They were mostly white, with bright red feathers adorning their heads. Their beautiful appearance drew no small number of people to come observe them at the lake during their short visits.

“Yeah, I bet they were at the lake all winter. I imagine some of them felt that Redford was warm enough, so they didn’t want to bother heading any farther south,” Ryne said.

“True, we did receive reports that arkles were seen at the lake throughout the winter,” Tris murmured. “It was certainly a rare occurrence, but does it have anything to do with the plague?” Despite the calmness in his voice, there was doubt in his gaze that he couldn’t quite hide. They were supposed to be talking about the Red Eye plague, not talking about birds over tea.

Grinning at Tris’s inability—or more likely, unwillingness—to hide his irritation, Ryne continued. “Those birds carry the Red Eye plague in their stomachs.” A murmur went through the gathered crowd. “So they’re called arkles here? In the north, they’re known as akults. The indigenous people who live up there occasionally come across a rare disease that matches the symptoms of your Red Eye plague. The cause is a parasite that lives in the stomachs of the arkles.” Ryne bit into an egg sandwich while those gathered shared bewildered expressions.

Conan finally broke the silence. “So, you’re positing that the parasite has somehow moved from the birds to people? But the arkles are here every year. Why is it so different this time?”

Ryne swallowed, returning Conan’s gaze. “That’s where the warm winter comes in. The arkles aren’t the only ones who were thrown off by it. The karas harvest went really well this year, didn’t it? And I bet they were bigger than average too?”

Ryan shot a glance to a man sitting in the corner of the room.

“Indeed,” the minister reported. “We have many reports of prices for karas dropping due to oversupply.”

Misha recalled the squirming, lizard-like creatures she had seen in that bucket. Even Yuu and Teto had been bragging about catching so many this year. It certainly seemed like the harvest was going well.

“What does the karas harvest have to do with this?” Misha asked.

Ryne nodded as he picked up a sweet yet savory meat sandwich. “When the water cools to a certain point, the karas burrow into the mud and hibernate—kind of like frogs or snakes. Once the water warms up, they wake up and start feeding and reproducing. But this year, the water never got cold enough to send them into hibernation. For the same reason, there was plenty of food for them still around. As a result, the karas continued reproducing through the winter, so they grew up bigger and faster than usual.”

“That explains why the karas harvest was so good, but...” Misha left the question in the air as Ryne took a big bite out of his sandwich.

Ryne frowned at her. “You’ve really lost your touch, haven’t you? You don’t get it yet?”

Misha wilted slightly at her uncle’s obvious disappointment.

“We have some birds, which were only supposed to be here for a few days, and the karas, who were supposed to be in hibernation. Thanks to the warm weather, these two species that should never interact spent all winter together.”

“So...the karas were infected by the parasite?” Tris interjected for the downcast Misha.

Nodding as he took a gulp of tea, Ryne turned to Tris. “Until now, it was a rare disease that only occurred in a secluded group of indigenous people in the north, so we hadn’t been able to study it very well. It took a while even for us to figure out what was going on. Just recently, we discovered that the parasite doesn’t seem to survive in fish. When we considered the problems that plague victims have with their lungs, and that fish breathe entirely differently, we concluded that was an important detail. Karas, though, are able to survive both underwater and on land. This all proved a fertile breeding ground for the parasite. Droppings from the birds held eggs of the parasite, which the karas ate, or the fish they fed on did. Either way, the parasite then thrives inside the karas. And once those karas are eaten by humans, the parasite continues to grow.”

The room was silent. None of them could come to grips with the revelation laid out before them. That was understandable—it was hard to grasp learning a food that they commonly ate was actually deadly poisonous.

Misha was the first to recover from the shock. “Then why am I okay? I haven’t eaten a lot of karas, but I have had some.”

“Indeed. Karas is a common food here in the capital. It would be quite difficult to find someone in the city who hasn’t eaten any. I’ve eaten plenty myself,” Conan added, getting nods from many around the room.

Having polished off the food in front of him, Ryne picked up his freshly refilled tea with a deep breath. “The person who was researching this did it out of curiosity after hearing about the plague that hit Redford last time, which means none of us ever saw any actual victims of the plague for ourselves. So, this is entirely speculation...but it probably depends on how the karas is prepared.”

“How so?”

“Parasites in general are very weak to heat. Any reasonable amount of cooking will kill them. But you eat karas raw, don’t you?”

Misha thought back to the dinners she’d had here in the castle, plates of translucent raw meat arranged with cut vegetables. They called it “live arrangement,” but having never eaten raw meat or fish before, Misha had balked at trying it for herself.

“I’ve eaten plenty of it raw myself, though. It’s a very ordinary way of preparing it,” Ryan spoke up, still plainly confused.

Karas was a common dish served to the royalty. As a symbolically seasonal food, it was something they had access to quite early in the season. Naturally, it made its way to the dinner table quite regularly. On top of that, being so close to the water, raw fish was something the people of the capital ate fairly often. Karas was no special outlier.

“Judging by how other parasites act, there probably aren’t many of them or their eggs in the meat itself. And when you eat it, it passes immediately to your digestive system. An ordinarily healthy person can probably digest a small amount of the parasite’s eggs safely before they have a chance to hatch. However, eggs are often found in the organs or blood.”

Faces around the room began to pale as Ryne continued.

“Lady Lalaya always drank the raw blood because it was so nutritious. She also ate the hearts and livers whole...” Misha murmured.

Ryan picked up where she left off. “We’ve always eaten them that way for the high nutritional value. We were taught that cooking karas diminishes its benefits. It’s prized for being highly nutritious, to the point that among the poor, it is often prescribed before medicine.”

Ryne nodded slowly, as if he were a patient teacher in front of a class of slow students. “That’s likely the problem. Your ancestors probably recognized that cooking the karas reduced its nutritional value. It became a custom to feed karas to people who grew sick over the change of the seasons. And now, those with weaker digestion aren’t able to digest the eggs before they hatch. The parasite grows, causing their condition to worsen...and the loop continues.”

“No way...” Misha hung her head. She couldn’t help but remember Yuu and Anna, covered in mud after hunting karas to help their sick grandmother get better. How badly would it break their hearts to learn that they had unwittingly been making her situation worse? It would probably be similar to what everyone else in the room was feeling, judging by the dark looks on the faces of everyone but Ryne himself.

“Okay, so you all know where it comes from, right?” Ryne continued, ignoring the change in atmosphere. His bright tone brought everyone’s attention back to him, gazes that Ryne ignored as he turned to Misha. “So the next question is, do you know how to get parasites out of a body?”

Misha’s response was practically by reflex. “Give them anthelmintic herbs. They need dewormers. I don’t know which will be effective yet...but if the arkles are bringing the parasite down here, we should check what medicine they use up north.”

“Correct.” Ryne gave a satisfied smile.

“There’s medicine that can help?!” Ryan interjected.

There was a way to treat the vile plague that had nearly destroyed Redford once before; that thought alone was a glimmer of shining hope. Ryan made no efforts to preserve the dignity of his office, the intensity of his question leading Misha’s uncle to lean back a bit as he nodded.

“After surviving in people for so long, the parasite has likely changed somewhat, but it should still be pretty effective. No way to know but to try it.”

A surge of excitement rippled through the room. It was the first good news they’d heard since the plague began. They finally had a way to fight back against the plague that had left them wringing their hands helplessly for so long.

“But there’s a problem,” Ryne said, quick to dash their hopes. “The herbs used to make such medicine only grow in the far north. They’re not that rare up there, but they’re also not really exported. There’s no way to get ahold of them here. I’ve already sent someone to retrieve some, but I can’t give even an estimate for when they’ll arrive.” Ryne shrugged, and the room fell back into silence.

That brief taste of hope had only set them up for a deeper despair. Seeing everyone’s faces fall, Ryne gave a heavy sigh and clapped his hands together loudly.

“So for starters, why not ban the eating of karas? That’ll at least reduce the number of people getting sick. After that, start gathering the people who were consuming the blood and organs of the karas raw, even if they don’t have any symptoms. Maybe it’ll be pointless, but there’s a chance if we catch it early enough, the dewormers we already have will be effective.”

At Ryne’s words, those in the room finally started to realize there was still something to be done. The doctors around Conan moved off to begin discussing more detailed countermeasures. Tris gathered with the nobles to discuss how to effectively communicate and enforce a ban on eating karas.

As they headed off, Ryan turned back to Ryne, who was still relaxing in his seat. “Thank you. This is invaluable information. Could I impose on you to help us in dealing with this crisis?”

The only ones left in the room were Ryan, Ryne, and Misha. There were also maids and servants waiting by the walls, but they were all loyal to Ryan, so he didn’t need to worry about them spreading rumors about him. Though the room hadn’t been perfectly cleared, since they were so close to being alone, Ryan didn’t hesitate to bow before this guest, even if he didn’t stand to do so.

Ryne grinned, intrigued. That was behavior unfit for a king. Misha seemed on the edge of interceding, so Ryne cut her off with a look before crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.

“You understand what it means to ask me for help, right?” Ryne murmured after a lengthy silence, scrutinizing the king in front of him.

Resolute, Ryan returned his gaze, nodding quietly. A stifling atmosphere settled over the room.

Finally, Ryne gave a quiet sigh. “Fine. It’ll be my way of thanking you for taking care of Misha.”

“Uncle Ryne!” Misha immediately jumped out of her seat, wrapping Ryne in a big hug.

Ryne stared for a while at Misha’s face, so different from the one in his memory. And though the two of them looked quite similar, she definitely resembled his sister more than she did him. The big eyes that always seemed to inspire a desire in others to help, the way the corners of her mouth lifted, the smaller lips...

Ryne returned her hug tighter, forcing down the emotions that started welling up in his chest.

At the same time, his strong embrace was such a relief, it had Misha on the verge of tears. It was nothing like the gentle grace with which her mother had hugged her, but there was still something so similar in it, something she could only attribute to them being related. In a childlike display, Misha pressed her face into her uncle’s chest, still in disbelief that he was there at all. Ryne responded with a laugh and a pat of her head.

Silently, Ryan watched the two interact. He could understand their feelings as family members who’d finally been reunited, but considering the crisis facing Redford at the moment, he found it difficult to share in their joy.

However, that didn’t mean he wished to break up their moment. Feeling he couldn’t just leave, Ryan quietly returned his attention to his tea. It had cooled to the perfect temperature, gliding down his throat with ease.

Seeing Ryan’s awkwardness, Ryne smiled sheepishly and eventually let Misha go. He then leaned down to rustle through a bag at his feet before he placed a small, wrapped package on the table.

“This is the medicine to combat the plague I was talking about.”

Ryan’s eyes opened wide. “You already have it?”

“It’s just a sample—enough for only five people.”

It was a cruel declaration. The lifesaving medicine they needed was right there, but there was so little, it would barely hold a candle to the crisis they were facing. It wouldn’t even make a dent in the families of the nobility that had contracted the plague.

“This is for you. You can use it however you like. Use it to save someone, or save it for research so you can try and find something you have on hand that works similar. I’ll just warn you, it probably won’t do anything for people in the final stages of the disease,” he ended solemnly.

Ryan had started to bite his lip without realizing it. He couldn’t get the picture of his own sister suffering out of his head. But so many of his people were suffering like her. Neither of them were something he was willing to sacrifice.

The king of Redford stood up, picking up the package of medicine, feeling a tremendous weight in it. And then he turned away.

“Thank you,” he said softly as he stepped into the hallway, no small measure of pain in his voice.

Chapter 7: Misha’s Regret

After Ryan left, silence hung over the room. Searching for the right words to say, Misha stared at the door through which he had left. Ryne dropped back into his seat and picked up his tea again, paying her no mind.

“Um, Uncle Ryne...what are you going to do next?” Misha asked as he happily piled his plate with sweets from the table. “Ryan asked you for help, right? Shouldn’t you go with him?”

Ryne shrugged. “There’s nothing I can do for him right now anyway. But hey, if you’ve got some time, why don’t we talk for a bit?” There was something terrifying in the way he smiled as he said that. Misha found herself flinching back in her seat beside him. “Oh, don’t be so scared. It’s nothing big. I just wanted to ask you something.”

As Misha started to pale, Ryne returned his cup to the table, his smile deepening. “When you discovered the Red Eye plague was back, and also when you realized there was nothing you could do on your own, why didn’t you search for Miranda?”

Misha tilted her head to the side as she tried to see the reasoning behind Ryne’s question.

“Miranda might have known something you didn’t,” he continued. “Maybe you don’t know where she is now, but she told you about her different bases, right? Even if you didn’t know exactly where she was, you could have found a few places that looked suspicious and started giving the sign of the People of the Forest.”

Misha’s expression grew more strained as he continued talking. It wasn’t that the thought hadn’t occurred to her. From the rest of the world’s perspective, the People of the Forest were miracle workers when it came to medicine. Ryne shared incredible knowledge with her whenever he visited, and it was always so different from what she knew of herbs and medicine from her mother. Misha could tell on her own that the People of the Forest had a lot more knowledge like that hidden away. It would have been natural to think they could have a remedy to combat the Red Eye plague.

But she hadn’t tried to seek them out.

“I was told I couldn’t just depend on the People of the Forest...”

Ryne cut down her weak objection. “Your knowledge comes from those same People of the Forest, though.”

Noticing her own hands starting to tremble, Misha struggled to keep stringing words together. “And they rarely help anyone outside their own tribe,” she tried again.

“True enough. But if it was you asking, there’s a much better chance someone would be willing to lend a hand. The People of the Forest are a tight-knit community. They’d put much more weight on the words of one of their own, even someone like you who only has half of our blood, than any king. Didn’t Miranda teach you that?”

“Understand? If you’re in trouble, greet them the same way you greeted me. If they’re one of our people, they’ll definitely help you.”

Ryne’s question brought Miranda’s words back to her. For the first time ever, Misha was afraid of the look in her uncle’s eyes. She was afraid that strong emerald gaze would pierce right through her, and drag everything she kept quiet out into the open.

Yeah, I knew, she thought, squeezing her eyes shut tight. I knew how to ask for help from the People of the Forest, but I still didn’t...because...

Hearing Ryne sigh, Misha snapped her eyes open, only to see his face directly in front of her. His eyes held a mix of compassion and indignation, the reflection of a small girl, pale and trembling, overwhelmed by her own guilt within them. Misha was totally lost for words.

Ryne softly lobbed an accusation at her. “People always thanked you, always praised you, always held you up on a pedestal, but didn’t we always teach you to remember how much you don’t know? I bet all that thanks and all that praise went to your head. You were worried someone would show up who was even more special than you.”

“No!” Misha shouted.

“Then why didn’t you do anything? You should have known pretty quickly that you were out of your depth.”

“That was...because...” Tears started pouring down her face.

Ryne gently wiped them away. “I know, running around the capital searching randomly for People of the Forest probably wouldn’t have accomplished anything, but it was still the best option for you. You should have known it was the best you could have done for all those suffering people.”

Misha bit her lip. She couldn’t think of anything she could say in reply. She was painfully aware of how correct he was. Normally she always knew right away what medicine was needed to treat which disease. It was an instinct, built from the huge wealth of knowledge that had been drilled into her since she was a child. She had never doubted the reliability of that feeling before.

But this time, no matter how hard or how long she puzzled over solutions, no matter how she dug through the mountain of her knowledge, she hadn’t found a single clue. That was obviously because she had no information on the true nature of the Red Eye plague, but this being the first time she’d been in over her head to such a degree, she was as confused as she was afraid.

For better or worse, she’d had no one else to rely on, and everyone around her had lain heavy expectations on her shoulders as one of the People of the Forest. She had been trapped between the building pressure of expectations she couldn’t answer and the pride earned from all she had accomplished so far.

Tears continued to pour, and her lip started to bleed as she bit down in frustration.

Guess I pushed her a bit too far. I’m sorry, Misha. This is only the beginning, though.

As she stood paralyzed by pressure and pride, people were dying—some of whom could have been saved had she acted sooner.

Of course, the full responsibility of that couldn’t be laid at Misha’s feet. No one could blame her for what was happening to those people—no one except for Misha herself.

If she had given up trying to play the hero and had asked for help, it might have left her frustrated and her heart in tatters. She would have moved past the tears and stood back up eventually, but she hadn’t been able to do that. That was why she was here, crying silently on her own.

“Does it hurt?” Ryne whispered. Misha gave a small nod, her eyes still fixed to the floor before she forcefully shook her head. “The dead will come for you. Still, don’t forget that pain. Don’t try to run away from it,” Ryne continued softly, taking Misha’s face in his hands and lifting her gaze to meet his. He looked directly into her eyes. “Not if you want to be an apothecary.”

A shock shot through Misha. “Can... Can I...?” she managed to squeak out, barely audible despite being so close.

But Ryne heard her loud and clear, and he responded with a small smile. “Only you can decide that, Misha.” Then his voice turned soft and gentle. “It’s been really hard for you on your own, hasn’t it?”

At that, Misha finally broke.

Her face scrunched up as she began to cry, wailing at the top of her lungs like an infant. As she fell into Ryne’s lap, he gently stroked her hair. And he didn’t stop until the last of the tears was done.

“Okay, I think that’s enough self-reflection for now. Maybe I should go check on my other results,” Ryne said as he got to his feet and handed Misha a cup of tea to mitigate the hiccups her crying had brought on.

She took a long drink of the now cold beverage before giving Ryne a quizzical expression. “What other results?” After all that crying, her brain wasn’t quite keeping up, so she was having difficulty thinking about the words Ryne was saying. As a result, her thoughts slipped right out of her mouth.

Ryne turned a wicked grin on his niece. “The results of giving the king that medicine, of course.”

“Huh?” His words seemed to bounce right off her, leaving her still just as much in the dark.

“Come on. Such a small amount of medicine in such a critical situation is going to cause a huge conflict, don’t you think? That princess isn’t the only important person who’s gotten sick, right?”

“You mean...” As Misha considered his words, her expression grew gradually darker.

As the man with the most authority in the kingdom, Ryan likely didn’t have to worry about being attacked for the medicine. But with so many people that had so much to lose, it wouldn’t be surprising if someone tried something stupid.

“Why did you give it to him, then?!” Misha shouted, jumping angrily from her seat.

“Come on, let’s go see! I wonder where he is now...” Ryne casually walked out of the room, that wicked grin back on his face.

Misha ran to follow him. “He’s probably meeting with Tris or with Doctor Conan. Why are you walking so slowly?! We should be hurrying!”

“Come on, I don’t remember raising a girl rude enough to run in the halls.” As much as Misha tried to push him from behind, Ryne’s leisurely pace didn’t increase one bit. “We don’t have to rush. I’ve got someone watching everything. Besides, this was part of the deal to get the recipe for the medicine in the first place.” He clapped the alarmed Misha on the shoulder, urging her to calm down.

“The recipe? What are you talking about? Are you hiding something?”

“I wouldn’t call it hiding. My specialty is surgery, remember? Infectious diseases are out of my realm of expertise. So I had a friend I met on the way here tell me about the Red Eye plague.”

Ryne continued making his way through the palace, taking each turn like he knew the place as well as the back of his hand. Misha looked up at him questioningly as she kept pace alongside him.

“Haven’t you heard that the People of the Forest are really particular about the people they deal with? This Ryan guy’s behavior right now is probably going to determine whether Redford falls for real this time.”

Misha frowned at how flippantly her uncle spoke about the fate of the kingdom. “I don’t understand what you mean. Why would Ryan’s actions lead to Redford being destroyed?”

“Because if my friend doesn’t like what they see, they’re going to turn tail and run. We’re pretty selfish people when it comes down to it. If we like someone, we help them. If not, we don’t. That’s pretty straightforward, don’t you think?”

“That’s terrible!” Misha shouted back. There was no way she could accept that the whims of one person would decide life or death for so many others. If that was how things worked, how did Ryne have any basis for criticizing her earlier?

“Okay, calm down. The difference here is whether the medicine is going to come in by national or private channels. It’s not that big a deal. The only thing really at risk is trust in the royal family.”

Misha froze in place, mouth working but no words making their way out. The fact that her uncle sounded like this was all in good fun for him was just too much for her. Ryne made no move to wait for her as he continued through the halls at his usual pace.

“But come on, this is the king who’s taken such good care of you, right? You should trust him.”

“Of course I trust him! He’s definitely going to do the right thing!” she declared, glaring at her uncle from behind him. Then she broke into a run to catch up to him.

Chapter 8: Side Story — Ryne’s Journey

Rewinding time a little...

On his way to reunite with Misha, Ryne decided to stick to traveling through the mountains. He wasn’t fond of places with lots of people. Sneaking around with his hair and eyes disguised didn’t sit well with his personality. It was all too much of a pain.

Instead, he walked the game trails, picking up any useful herbs he saw along the way. Considering where he was headed, he felt having a good stockpile of herbs would come in handy.

The capital of Redford was famous among apothecaries and doctors for how difficult it was to obtain medicinal plants there. With Redford being a large and developed nation, the closer one got to its heart, the less access to nature there was for such plants to thrive in. The edges of the kingdom were one thing, but in the capital—where Misha was—basically everything would have to be imported.

She’s probably in quite the pickle, he thought.

Having grown up in a similar environment to the one the People of the Forest called home, she probably considered herbs to be something one found and used for themselves. It likely hadn’t really occurred to her that they had monetary value. Ryne couldn’t help but smile as he imagined how bewildered she must be in her new environment.

While he cut his way through the untamed wilderness, Ryne continued to put his mind to work. Ryne was one of the People of the Forest, a tribe that lived very much in harmony with nature, so these deep woods posed no obstacle to him. On top of that, Ryne had stridden across numerous battlefields in his time. His survival instincts were sharp, and he was more than capable of defending himself. Any predator that sought to make a meal out of him found themselves becoming dinner for Ryne instead.

Wishing to study surgical science, Ryne had left the People of the Forest’s village after taking an interest in human anatomy. Since then, he had only been back home a handful of times. The fact that his sister—younger than him by two years—had left with the man she’d fallen in love with meant he had little reason to go back. Really, he might have spent more time at his sister’s new home in foreign lands than he had at his own home.

When he wasn’t there, he was just wandering around the world. He’d headed south, looking for some particularly rare herbs, but he’d gone north once war had broken out, wanting to get involved. Sometimes his curiosity had even taken him overseas. Even the extensive information network built by the People of the Forest had difficulty keeping tabs on him, in no small part because of the way he slipped from nation to nation with no respect for their borders.

“The easiest way to find you is to set up camp near a war zone and wait,” one of his old friends had grumbled once. That had got Ryne laughing—and eventually punched. It had been a great time.

I wonder where she is now? he thought.

Claiming she had no talent for developing new skills or drugs, she had become a member of the information network, and she’d ended up being the best of any of them at pinning Ryne down. She was a stubborn woman, and being so close to Leyas, she’d found it impossible to accept that Leyas would choose to leave her and the village behind.

Oh, she’ll be devastated when she hears Leyas died.

Ryne knew that as much as she was part of the information network, she specifically avoided any connections to Bluheitz. He had tried to tell her about what was going on with Leyas once, but she had vehemently refused to listen, covering her ears and ignoring him. He had given up, deciding that time would eventually work things out.

Maybe I should have told her anyway.

His rare sentimental episode was cut short when Ryne felt hostility aimed at him. He feigned ignorance, casually taking a hold of the blade hidden within his sleeve. And then, as the beast lunged at him from behind, he smoothly threw the blade, catching the creature out of the air.

“I guess it’s bear stew tonight,” he murmured to himself, appetite thoroughly stoked.

Because he avoided the cities and stuck to the wilderness, it took another week before Ryne crossed over into Redford. In the midst of his sadness at the thinning tree line, it occurred to him that he was running low on salt, and so he decided to pay a visit to a small farming village. Food and water were easy enough to get a hold of in the forest, but seasonings like salt were much harder to come by. It wasn’t impossible to find something like rock salt, but considering the effort that would involve, it was much easier to just trade for it.

The trees finally cut off, and he emerged onto a mountain road. The well-traveled road, carved out by constant traffic through this area, gave a strong impression of civilization. It didn’t take long before it connected to a proper highway, lined with tracks from carriages, with one such carriage stopped not too far ahead of where Ryne emerged. It was a two-horse canopied carriage, the kind often used by merchants.

“Maybe I can take a bit of a shortcut,” Ryne thought aloud, pulling some cloth from his bag to hide his hair as he trotted up to the carriage. But as he got close, he discovered why the carriage was stopped in such a random spot, and slumped his shoulders. “Guess I’ll have to work before I get any salt.”

Though it wasn’t quite visible from a distance, from up close he could see the arrows sticking out of the canopy, and holes made from swords.

So, they were attacked by bandits but managed to escape? Lucky guys.

The familiar scent of blood in the air made Ryne quicken his pace. The more blood one lost, the less likely their survival was.

“Keep it together, now. The city isn’t far. You can make it!”

Ryne heard voices coming from inside the carriage, so he peeked through one of the holes in the canopy. Crates and merchandise were scattered in a mess around two men, the younger one lying on the floor wrapped in cloth, while the older man shouted at him, desperately trying to stop his partner’s bleeding.

Seeing that the injured man was on the verge of losing consciousness, Ryne decided to call out to them. “Hey! That’s not going to be good enough to stop the bleeding.”

The healthy man snapped around at the sudden voice from behind him, immediately grabbing and brandishing the small sword at his side. On closer inspection, Ryne could see his other hand hung limp at his side. It was no wonder he couldn’t properly treat his injured companion.

Ryne smiled sheepishly, raising his hands above his head. “I’m just a passing apothecary. I know some medical stuff. I figured you guys needed help.”

He had no intention of forcing these men to let him help them. In this day and age, trusting a stranger in the wilderness took no small amount of courage. They had every right to reject Ryne’s offer to help. They were the ones who would have to deal with the consequences, regardless of which choice they made.

The man with the sword stared at Ryne hard for a few moments before finally lowering his weapon. “Please, we need help. He was injured by bandits. It’s pretty bad. I don’t think he’ll make it to the closest city.”

“Got it. Let’s make some space.” Pushing the other man out of the way, Ryne jumped into the carriage.

The injured man’s eyes were closed, face twisted in pain as he groaned. Removing the sloppy attempt at bandaging from the man’s wound and stripping back the blood-soaked clothing beneath, Ryne found a sword wound stretching from his shoulder to his gut.

After a brief inspection of the injury, he instructed the other man to make a fire and start boiling water. Waiting for the man to dash off, Ryne then pulled some painkillers from his bag and slipped them into the injured man’s mouth.

“It’s medicine. Swallow it if you want to live,” Ryne whispered into the man’s ear, then placed the end of his water bottle by the man’s mouth.

The injured man’s eyes flickered open briefly as he accepted the water.

Ryne grinned. “You’re a lucky guy. What are the chances you’d run into me here?”

Pushing aside more merchandise in the carriage to make room to work, Ryne began laying out the tools he would need.

“Okay, then. Try to hold it together for me.”

After Ryne took care of both of them, as he took up the reins of the carriage, the older man said, “You really saved us. Thank you so much.”

Ryne replied with a shrug.

Ryne had stitched up the sword wound for the first man, and then he’d examined the older, healthier man, finding an arrow wound in his shoulder. He had been struck first in the encounter, knocked over when an arrow had taken him by surprise. Once the carriage had slowed, the bandits had dropped onto them from above with their swords. Although he was wounded in the process, the driver’s son had managed to kick the bandits out of the carriage itself, while the older driver had recovered to take the reins and get them away. Ryne had come across them just as they had reached a safe distance and the driver had stopped to do everything he could to attend to his son’s wounds. Ryne really had shown up at the last second, just as the blood loss was causing the son to start losing consciousness.

“Good thing it wasn’t a poisoned arrow,” Ryne had said offhandedly. The arrow that had struck down the father had been broken off, the head still embedded in his shoulder, so Ryne had given him some painkillers and done some quick surgery to extract the arrowhead.

“Seriously. Neither of us would have made it.” The medicine Ryne had given him dulled most of the pain, but the sight of seeing his shoulder opened up and operated on took a courage he didn’t possess.

Ryne had kept the man engaged in conversation during surgery, which was as quick and unintrusive as Ryne could make it. He’d extracted the arrowhead and sewn the wound shut.

Once that was complete, wrapping the man’s shoulder in a bandage and instructing him not to move it, Ryne had reported, “There’s no damage to the nerves or bone, so if you give it a week it should be back to normal. You really are lucky.” And then, deciding driving the carriage with one hand was probably asking too much, he’d taken the driver’s seat himself.

Now he was the one guiding the carriage while the two men recovered. “Well, it works out for me too. Now I don’t have to walk,” he insisted.

“But if you weren’t here, I would have lost my son, and probably my arm too.” Sitting down beside Ryne, the man offered his good hand. “The name’s Illya. As you can probably guess, I’m a merchant. We were picking up some goods across the border, and well, you see what came of that. Oh, and that’s my son Akia back there.”

“I’m Ryne,” he replied curtly, shaking the merchant’s hand.

“How far are you going?” Illya asked.

“The capital.”

Though there wasn’t even so much as polite civility in Ryne’s tone or expression, Illya clearly wasn’t bothered, as he laughed happily. “Well, I should be able to sort you out. We’ll probably be stuck in the next town for a while, but I can ask some of my merchant buddies to take you there.”

He knew it was Illya’s attempt at thanking him, but after hesitating for a moment, Ryne ultimately shook his head.

“No thanks. I appreciate the offer, but I try to avoid spending too much time around other people.”

Illya was quiet for a long moment. “Is it because of your eyes?” he murmured.

Ryne didn’t answer.

“As dangerous as this job is, we tend to come across all kinds of information. An apothecary with green eyes. You’re hiding your hair too, which means it’s probably blond, right?”

Ryne glanced over at the man sitting beside him. His darkly tanned face had more than its fair share of wrinkles. Illya didn’t return the look, keeping his eyes locked forward.

“If so, I want to help you even more,” he continued, taking Ryne’s silence for confirmation. “Not just for helping us. I owe a lot to someone your people saved.”

Ryne narrowed his eyes at him as he thought it over. Those who lived traveling from nation to nation often highly prized the bonds of family. There was probably someone close to Illya that had been sick or injured and been helped by one of the People of the Forest in the past. It wasn’t that strange of a reaction to Ryne. In fact, many people had offered to help him for similar reasons over the years.

But what he said next very much did take Ryne by surprise.

“I never saw her, but apparently she was just a little girl. She discovered a rare poison that was being used against a dear friend of mine and saved her life. You people really are incredible.”

Though it was rare, there were definitely other People of the Forest who’d left the village and wandered the world like Ryne had, but there was no way they’d let a “little girl” leave. Their laws and customs prized protecting their children above all else. As such, no one was allowed to leave the village until they reached adulthood. It might have been years since Ryne last set foot in the village, but there was no way their laws had changed so drastically in that time.

As such, there was only one little girl that Illya could be referring to.

“Was that something that happened recently?”

Illya was a bit taken aback by Ryne’s sudden interest. “Y-Yeah, just a few months ago. Is she someone you know?”

Ryne’s shoulders slumped. It lined up perfectly with when Misha had been traveling.

What were you thinking...? Oh, you probably weren’t. You probably just help anyone you come across who’s in trouble.

Ryne’s face clouded over as he thought of his much too friendly and softhearted niece. However Illya interpreted that expression, he handed Ryne a water bottle without a word. Inside was some alcohol he had purchased on his last visit into town.

Smelling the contents as he opened it, Ryne took two mouthfuls before handing it back. “For now, let’s worry about getting to town. We can worry about what comes next after that.”

Unbeknownst to him, Ryne’s face bore a concerned but nevertheless proud smile.

After getting the two to a medical clinic in the nearest town, Ryne quickly took his leave. Illya insisted on fetching him a ride, but in the end, Ryne couldn’t bring himself to travel with a total stranger, so he politely declined the offer.

When he learned that Ryne was hoping to resupply on salt, Illya did give him plenty of his own, insisting he couldn’t charge someone who had saved his life. In addition, he had given Ryne a wooden card with his family crest on it and a letter, telling Ryne to use it if he was ever in trouble.

Reading the letter, Ryne discovered it said Ryne was a close friend of Illya’s family, and it asked the receiver to do whatever they could to help him. Illya insisted it would be useful with any merchant that bore the same crest.

“Merchants are so dutiful no matter where they come from, huh?” Ryne sighed, throwing it all into his bag and marching away. There was neither hesitation in his footsteps nor any trace of regret.

As he followed a road winding its way through the forest, suddenly the loud cry of a bird overhead caught his attention. Looking up, he saw the large bird circling overhead. Taking off the cloth he was using as a head covering, he wrapped it around his arm and lifted it into the air, prompting Kyne to swoop down and land on it.

“Welcome back. Where have you been?” he asked, scratching Kyne’s wings with a much softer expression than he had ever shown to the pair of merchants.

Ever since he’d taken Kyne out of the forest that was her home, she had occasionally swung by to pay him a visit, but otherwise she’d flown freely across the countryside. Aside from when she was just a baby, she had been given free rein over the entire forest. With her huge wings and her sharp beak and talons, there was no need to worry about Kyne’s safety, so Ryne had left her to do as she pleased.

The bird stared at Ryne with her beady black eyes, drawing Ryne’s attention to something held in her beak.

“What’s that?”

Kyne gave a pair of short clucks before dropping the object into Ryne’s hand. It was a small nut wrapped in thin green paper.

Ryne frowned at the sight of it. It was a nut from a tree that only grew in the homelands of the People of the Forest. As such, it was used by them as a sign to make their presence known to other members of their tribe.

“The next town over, huh? Closer than I would have expected.” When exposed to the heat of an open flame, the thin sheet of paper that had been wrapped around the nut revealed a hidden message. It had the name of the next town over, and an intricate drawing of ivy. That was a representation of the sender’s name.

When a member of the tribe left the village, the village elders bestowed a sign on them to represent their name. Similarly, they were made to memorize the signs that referred to the others. The point was to make it harder to discern their identities if their messages were to be intercepted, but as far as Ryne was concerned, it was all a waste of time. They already used a written language unique to the People of the Forest, so no one who intercepted the message would be able to read it anyway. And even if they could, what would they be able to do with a person’s name?

But the village chiefs had continued the tradition through the generations, so it would be even more effort to try and stop the practice. When comparing the hassle it would be to negotiate with those tradition-obsessed old fogeys and the hassle of using these bizarre code names, he had decided complying was the easiest solution.

“What does Ash want now?”

After hesitating for a moment, Ryne wrote his own name and the number “1” on the paper and returned it to Kyne. With a large wave of his arm, he sent the bird back into the air. Watching Kyne fly off into the distance, Ryne started after her.

Kyne made her return around the time Ryne made it to the town, and she led Ryne to a dilapidated house on the town’s outskirts. Not bothering to knock on the half-rotted door, Ryne pushed his way into the one-room house, finding a figure lying on the bed inside.

“Oh, Ryne. Long time no see,” the house’s resident greeted him, his single eye scrutinizing the new arrival.

“What’s wrong, Ash?” Ryne replied, raising his hand in greeting as he trudged into the house and walked up to the bed.

Ash, a weary-looking man of forty-something years, struggled up into a seated position with a wry grin.

“Come on, at least say hello. I made a bit of a mistake and messed up my leg. I’ve been dying of boredom waiting for someone to come get me, so I was playing with the bird whistle, and lo and behold, this one came and answered. I gave it a letter to see if anyone would come visit, but I never expected it would be you.”

Ryne sighed. “Don’t waste the bird’s time just because you’re bored.”

The bird whistle was a special tool of the People of the Forest. It made a high-pitched sound that birds could pick up on, but it was beyond a person’s range of hearing. Blowing a specific tune on that whistle called the mail birds that worked for the People of the Forest. Normally, the mail birds were taught that sound when they were still babies, and naturally Ryne had made sure Kyne knew the signal as well, so Kyne, who’d happened to be in the area entirely by chance, had responded to it. The nut Kyne had been carrying had been too large for her mail tube, so she had carried it in her beak instead and ended up luring Ryne to this place.

“So, how’s your leg?” Ryne deflated a little at the thought he had been brought here just by someone else’s boredom, but he nevertheless wanted to know about Ash’s condition.

“Emergency treatment’s already done,” Ash replied, peeling back the covering on his leg. His entire right leg was braced with wooden slats, fixed in place. “I got distracted harvesting some rare herbs I came across and ended up walking right off a cliff. Man, I panicked for real.” He laughed heartily, slapping his shaved head.

Ryne could only sigh again. “Of all things. How are the nerves?”

“I don’t feel anything, so I’m not sure it’ll ever heal. I’ll be a great experiment for the village, I’m sure,” Ash described his inevitable future with a grim expression. “But more importantly, I hear they’re looking for you. What did you do this time?” he asked, looking inquisitively into Ryne’s eyes.

“No clue. I don’t remember doing anything of note.” But considering the timing of it all, Ryne had only bad feelings about it.

“I guess you’re one of the harder guys to track down, though. You don’t even make your regular reports, do you?”

“No point.” The main purpose of those regular reports was to confirm that they were still alive and well, but Ryne rarely ever bothered. He had finally taken a hold of true freedom, and at no small cost to himself. Why would he throw that away?

“Suit yourself. Anyways, the message for you is that Miranda is waiting for you in Redford’s capital, so contact her as soon as possible. My work here is done.”

Ryne’s eyes widened a little, surprised that a person he had been thinking about just a few days ago had come up again already.

“Miranda’s in the capital?” Ryne sighed again. The timing was just too perfect. It couldn’t mean anything good.

“Changing topics a bit, have you seen Old Man Nel recently?”

“What? Of course not—we study entirely different things. Why do you ask?”

Nel was one of the more eccentric of the elders of the People of the Forest. Ryne’s research focused on surgery, so he was typically wandering from battlefield to battlefield, but the old man studied diseases and infections.

“Apparently, he rushed out of the village saying, ‘I feel a plague coming,’ and headed this way.”

“Thanks for the wonderful news. I’m sure it won’t disturb me at all,” Ryne said bitterly.

Even though he was almost seventy, Nel was a renowned troublemaker, constantly leaving the village for whatever strange thing took his fancy that season. The thought of having to deal with him elicited one more heavy sigh out of Ryne.

Ugh, this is going to be a pain.

In truth, once someone left the village, it was pretty rare for them to come across other members of the tribe. But now Ryne was set up to meet Ash, Miranda, and potentially even Nel in quick succession.

He couldn’t help but feel like fate was pulling at his strings, and there was only one place he could imagine he was being drawn to. But when he recalled the innocent, cheerful smile the girl had worn during their last meeting, he couldn’t bring himself to fight that fate.

As Ash saw him off with a sympathetic smile, Ryne started toward the capital.

Once he reached Redford’s capital, Ryne managed to meet up with Miranda, who gave him quite the earful for keeping in touch with Leyas behind her back. It was a tedious lecture to listen to, but the fact of the matter was he had kept a relationship with his sister on his own, so he let Miranda speak her piece without comment.

Then Nel, who had watched the whole exchange with a wide grin, brought up the story of the so-called plague that was breaking out in the area, dragging Ryne into getting involved with it. He was only then able to finally reunite with Misha.

After all he had been through to get there, even if none of it was her fault, he couldn’t help being a bit harsh in the way he spoke to her. At the same time, he thought of Nel, sneaking his way into the team of doctors working in the capital. How would the king and his retainers respond to this crisis? And how would Nel take those reactions?

In the end, with Misha pushing him from behind in an attempt to hurry him along, he couldn’t fight the curious smile peeking through on his face.

Chapter 9: Ryan and Lalaya

Ryan walked through the halls, the small paper package in his hands. Despite its size, it felt remarkably heavy.

Though his expression remained collected, Ryan’s feelings were a mess. He was holding a miracle cure for an otherwise incurable disease. It would be priceless in the eyes of anyone who was facing death at the hands of the Red Eye plague, but there was only enough for a handful of people. There was no way it could help everyone who was suffering.

Ryan couldn’t help but remember his own sister and her painful coughing fits. But right alongside hers were the faces of so many other people, people whose names he didn’t know.

Misha’s uncle—that man from the People of the Forest—had given Ryan the medicine to do with as he wished.

I could use it as it is, or I could analyze it to try and reproduce it—he said I can do whatever I like with it.

Though he knew he should be hurrying, that man’s voice echoing in the back of his mind slowed his pace until he finally came to a stop.

On the one hand, he had the all too human longing to save his own family, but as a king, his heart was just as desperate to help the people of Redford. Those two feelings were tearing him asunder.

All kinds of things flashed through his head, but in the end, the last one was the image of a person he respected the most. Someone who always had a gentle smile, who loved his family and his kingdom more than anyone. When the young Ryan had sat on his lap, he had taught him over and over that a country existed only because of its people.

“Being king doesn’t make you more important than anyone. He just needs to act that way to keep his people safe,” his father had said with a smile. “The king is really the highest-class slave in the kingdom.”

At the time, Ryan had been too young to understand what that meant. But from the way his father had smiled when he’d taught this son his lesson, Ryan understood that it must have been a good thing. He remembered the way his older brothers and the king’s consorts had shaken their heads and rolled their eyes at the king’s comment, and he remembered how his little sister had only just been born. Those blissful, carefree days had shaped Ryan into who he was today.

The king’s decision to stay behind in the capital, to stay with his people so as to assuage their fears even a little bit during the last plague, would likely be viewed as foolishness by others looking back on events. However, the fact of the matter was that he had stayed true to his principles until the very end. Ryan had nothing but respect for him as a father and as a king. His siblings who had survived that horrible time with Ryan all felt the same way. Yes, even Lalaya, suffering as she now was.

She had been born weak, bedridden by the slightest bit of overexertion. Her condition made it all but impossible to carry out the royal duties that were expected of her, and no one hated her for that more than Lalaya herself. So whenever her body allowed, she dove into books. Gathering knowledge, learning about Redford, learning other languages to deal with foreign diplomats—she was always working hard as best she could.

She hated showing that side of herself to others, so she had garnered a reputation of being a useless princess who locked herself in her room all day, but she never argued with that. She believed others when they called her useless. But of all the royalty that were left, Ryan felt Lalaya was the only one who held themselves with a proper noble spirit. He knew exactly what she’d say if he brought that medicine before her.

“A nation exists because of its people, right?” he mumbled. “She’d just scold me for acting out of character.”

Finally releasing his lower lip from the grip of his teeth, he smiled. When he started walking again, there was no longer any trace of hesitation in him.

Conan didn’t think twice after Ryan put the medicine in his hands. “Ida, give this to Lady Lalaya right away,” he said.

“Wait, what?!” the king shouted in shock. He had brought the medicine to the doctors so they could analyze it and attempt to develop their own version of the remedy, so Conan’s instructions took him quite by surprise.

“We’ve barely got any of the medicine—how can we waste it like that? Maybe it’s just because I’m not educated in medicine, but wouldn’t you want as much as you can get your hands on for research?” Ryan said.

“Of course we intend to use it for research. But Lady Lalaya comes first,” Conan replied.

Ryan slumped his shoulders. “I doubt she’ll take it if you try.”

“That is hardly an issue. We’ll just tell her it is a new kind of fever medicine. Once she’s taken it, there’s no going back,” Conan said with a bright smile, the other doctors nodding in agreement.

“You can’t give her special treatment just because she’s royalty. The people are what make Redford what it is. Are you going to sacrifice hundreds of people just to save one life?!” Ryan shouted, his tone entirely unexpected from a king.

Conan took on a deathly serious expression. “We don’t want to save her because she is royalty. We want to save her because we care about her.”

“My apologies for interrupting, Your Majesty, but...do you know where Lady Lalaya is at the moment?” one of the apothecaries spoke up, causing Ryan and Conan to break from their staring contest. This apothecary wasn’t a person of high enough station to dare speak to the king directly, but even as his face paled in fear, he pressed on. “Right now, she is visiting the infirmary where we are keeping patients of the plague. She decided that since she is already sick, she has nothing to fear from them, so she wanted to visit them each one by one and encourage them not to give up hope.”

Ryan’s eyes went wide. He had assumed she was still in her room.

“Even though she is suffering so much, she just laughs it off, saying that she’s used to being sick by now. She’s tending to the sick herself, wiping the sweat from their foreheads and teaching them how to breathe to minimize the pain.”

While speaking, the apothecary started tearing up, overcome by emotion.

“My grandmother is there, among the sick. Her condition is far enough along that her whole body is covered in those red lines. Our family had no idea what to do, but Lady Lalaya took her hand and said, ‘Don’t give up. Stay strong. We’ll survive this together.’ She’s inspired not just my grandmother, but my whole family.”

One of the other doctors wrapped an arm around the apothecary as he began to break down.

More than one pair of eyes stared resolutely back at Ryan.

“Please let Lady Lalaya take the medicine.”

“We beg you.”

“Everyone in the infirmary will ask you the same thing.”

“Please! Let us save her.”

Ryan gulped.

“Saving this one life will lead to saving thousands, tens of thousands more. That is how meaningful the royalty are to the people of Redford. But honestly, we couldn’t care less about that. After seeing how Lady Lalaya is hiding her own suffering and trying to comfort the people around her, we want to save her more than anything. We know that you care about the people of Redford more than anyone, so we also want to protect what’s precious to you personally,” Conan said, slowly and patiently, as if he were dealing with a small child.

Ryan finally let go of the tension holding him, dropping his shoulders. “As unworthy as I am, I’m still the king. Can I really prioritize my own feelings like that...?” His pained whisper seemed to resound throughout the room.

Conan dropped to his knees and bowed his head, and in short order the other doctors did the same. “We wish for exactly the same thing as you. Please... Listen to your people.”

Silence settled over the room, broken only by the sound of someone clapping.

The door to the room swung open, Ryne waltzing into the room with Misha close behind. “The king thinks only of his people, but the people turn around and support their king. That’s the perfect outcome, isn’t it? Are you satisfied now, old man? Can we cut it out with these sick games?”

“How rude. This wasn’t a game, it was a test.”

While Ryan and the doctors turned in surprise at the sudden intruder, one of the apothecaries in the back of the room replied to Ryne’s declaration, rising back to his feet.

The apothecary lowered his hood, revealing the small old man had a head of long white hair and a thick white beard, very much giving the impression of a dwarf from a fairy tale.

“Hard to call it a test when you’re the devil whispering on their shoulders,” Ryne replied.

“I haven’t been whispering anything. I’ve been watching very quietly,” the old man retorted, cutting through the crowd of doctors to stand in front of Ryne.

“Sir Ryne...do you know this man?” Ryan asked as he glanced between the two.

Ryne shrugged. “He’s one of the guys who was researching the Red Eye plague. And as much as it pains me to admit it, he’s one of the elders of the People of the Forest.” He shot a scowl his way.

“What is that supposed to mean?! Kids these days. Don’t you know how to respect your elders?!” The old man whacked Ryne on the head with his cane.

“You throw such a malicious problem in front of them, call it a test, then sit back and watch the whole thing unfold while you grin ear to ear. What better word to describe that than evil? If you want people to respect you, maybe try being worthy of respect,” Ryne bit back, holding a hand to his head where he had been struck.

The old man lifted his cane to strike again but stopped when he noticed Misha standing behind Ryne.

“Oh, so you’re the rumored girl, are you? You remind me so much of Leyas when she was younger.” The old man switched tunes immediately, a bright smile taking to his face as he walked over to her, looking every bit like a kindly grandfather.

“Yes sir. I’m Leyas’s daughter, Misha.” Not quite sure how to react, Misha gave a polite curtsy in greeting.

The old man’s smile widened. “Oh, she’s adorable. Please, call me Grandpa Nel.”

He reached out to pat Misha on the head, but Ryne slapped his hand out of the air. “Not the time for chitchat. Hurry up and start explaining. We’re on a bit of a time limit here.”

“Ryne could really learn a thing or two from you,” Nel said with a pout, rubbing at his now smarting hand.

“An old man like you acting like that will just creep her out,” Ryne retorted.

Ignoring Ryne’s cold glare, Nel finally turned back to Ryan and the doctors, who were waiting quietly to see how the whole situation would unfold. “I’ve already sent Miranda ahead to start distributing what medicine we have to the people. Oh, and don’t worry, your precious little princess is already on the list.”

“You have more medicine?!” Ryan shouted.

Wincing at the volume, Nel nodded. “A bit. We haven’t had the time to do any clinical tests, but the common people up north use it regularly, so I doubt there’ll be any issues. We still don’t have enough, but more is on the way.”

Ryan shared a look with Conan, feeling very much like he had fallen for some sort of prank. The salvation that seemed just barely out of reach had plopped right into the middle of his open palm. He was bewildered more than overjoyed.

“So Lady Lalaya and the others are going to be okay?” Misha cut in while the men shared a silent look. Her voice was bright and hopeful.

“They should be. Those whose illness has progressed too far may be beyond saving at this point, but judging by what I saw last time I took a look at the princess, she should be fine.” Nel broke out into a smile again as he turned to Misha. Then he looked hard into her eyes. “Hmm. Good color. You look a lot like Leyas, but your eyes are even deeper. I bet our ancestors had eyes that looked much like yours.”

As Misha blinked in surprise at the unexpected praise, Ryne scowled.

“Miranda’s running things down there, but she could probably use as much help as she can get. Let’s head to the infirmary, Misha,” he said, grabbing Misha by the shoulders and spinning her around before pushing her from the room. “You make sure you tell the king and his doctors what’s going on properly, old man. See you later!”

Nel clicked his tongue in disappointment as Misha was swept away. Ryne was right. Now that they had made contact with the royalty of Redford, as representatives of the People of the Forest, there were some stipulations to their relationship that needed to be made explicit. As an elder, the responsibility of seeing that all done naturally fell to Nel.

Oh well. I’m sure I’ll have a chance to speak with her later.

She was the daughter of a woman who’d once had excellent future prospects, but her love for an outsider had stolen her away from their village. Though they had confirmed Misha’s existence prior, according to the laws of their people, they weren’t allowed to make contact with someone who had abandoned the village. As much as it pained them, they couldn’t have become involved with her. But now the situation had changed entirely.

After watching the two leave until they stepped out of sight, Nel gave a sigh and turned back to the room of men waiting behind him. “All right. I suppose I should start from the beginning, King of Redford.” His gaze on the king was hard, with nothing of the kindly old man who’d spoken to Misha.

The way he measured Ryan with cold eyes was something the king was quite familiar with. The look snapped him out of the confusion that had settled over the room, and all at once he ceased to be Ryan; he was the king.

Nel faintly grinned once he saw Ryan clearly switch to his politician mode.

“Let’s move somewhere more comfortable, sir elder of the People of the Forest.”

The servants standing silent and motionless by the walls snapped into motion, moving on ahead of them. As Ryan and Nel started walking to follow them, the crowd swiftly parted ways to let them pass.

As they left, Conan gave some quick instructions to the other doctors, then hurried to follow. As the head of the royal physicians, he was the highest-ranking medical official in the kingdom. It would be perfectly natural for him to be involved in the conversation to come. He didn’t know what he would actually be able to accomplish in this discussion, but the premonition that he would learn something new in these talks filled him with a sense of elation.

Perhaps an improper response when so many lives hang in the balance...but no matter.

Conan’s steps were light and energetic as he made his way after them.

In a small room in the infirmary, Lalaya let out a deep breath, trying to expel some of the excessive heat she was feeling. The medicine was helping; however, it hadn’t entirely suppressed the illness. She still felt like there was a roiling pool of magma deep inside her.

She smiled and shrugged it off when others were around, but the truth was her weaker constitution, even as improved as it had been lately, made recovery harder on her than most. The fatigue was horrible. If she lost focus for a moment, she’d collapse at the knees. Sheer force of will was the only thing left keeping her standing.

“I’ve never been more thankful for how big these dresses are...”

Her heavy dresses made even walking around an ordeal, each step sapping ever more energy from her. She honestly hated the excessive bulk and how even standing exhausted her, but there was one upside: The outfit hid the trembling of her knees.

Trying to cover for the fact her incessant coughing had ruined her throat to the point even drinking water was painful, she slowly worked her way through the medicine she was provided while forcing a smile to her face.

“I’m glad this stuff isn’t just for show. Misha’s medicine has been a huge help.”

Her pride as royalty was the last tenuous strand tying her to the world of the waking. She couldn’t show any weakness or shame in front of the common people, terrified as they were. She had to be the picture of elegance and pride. Otherwise, there was no reason for her to be here at all, she told herself.

Whenever she was starting to reach her limit, pain growing beyond what her smiles would be able to hide, she returned to this small room that had been provided for her to take a breather. She took some medicine, drank more water, and put the smile right back on.

If she were to be honest, she’d rather just fall over and pass out. She wanted to scream and cry about how much it hurt, how she was afraid of dying, but if she fell to that temptation, she’d really be nothing but a useless parasite.

“Royalty live because of the love the people have for them. So make sure you love them back, okay? Love the people the same way you love us.”

That lesson from her mother had stuck with Lalaya to this day. She wasn’t entirely sure she really understood what her mother had meant, but if she could help the people feel at ease just by standing among them and offering a helping hand, she wanted to do it as much as possible.

“Okay, I’m fine now. Let’s go to the next room.” Draining the last drop from her cup, she gave the ever worried maid Carrie a smile as she rose back on trembling feet.

Though she most certainly would have been better served staying in her room and resting, the moment Lalaya knew she had contracted the Red Eye plague, she instructed her maids that she wished to go out.

Her brother and his officials were working around the clock, barely sleeping in their efforts to handle the plague. With no ability to contribute to any kind of government affairs, she couldn’t think of a single thing she could do in her position as royalty to help.

But she was already sick, so she didn’t need to worry about touching other people who were sick. It felt only natural that she copy what her mother had done.

“I’m going to the infirmary. Now is the time when the people need us most.” The unusual request at the worst of times for her had left the maids entirely bewildered, but Lalaya assuaged their fears with a bright, beautiful smile. “I’m nothing like my mother and father, but pathetic as I am, I am still a princess. I should be able to give the people a little hope, right?”

While the other maids struggled to find a way to turn her request down, Carrie stepped forward and responded to Lalaya’s strong will with an elegant bow. “Very well. If that is what you wish.”

“It is. Thank you.” Encouraged by the support from Carrie, her closest ally since she had been a little girl, Lalaya gave a satisfied smile before turning to the rest of the maids. “If you are afraid of getting sick, stay here. I know coming with me will be risking your life, so I won’t force any of you. There is plenty you can do to help without coming into direct contact with the sick. So do whatever you can.”

At that, the conflicted maids finally started to move. One began to help prepare for Lalaya’s outing. Another arranged for the materials they would need. One by one, they all moved to action, bringing another satisfied smile to the princess’s face. She then got to work herself.

Lalaya visited the infirmary, stopping at each of the beds she passed to hold the hands of the person suffering there, wiping the sweat from their brows herself. She would hold hands even with those covered in thick red lines, people whose families were too scared to touch them anymore. She spoke softly and encouragingly to them. So many people who had been worn down and crushed by the disease found relief and comfort at her visit.

They could see the sweat on her own brow, feel the tremor in her hands, hear the sound of her coughing when she couldn’t quite keep it back. They understood she was sick just like them. But even though she must have been suffering just like they were, her gentle smile didn’t so much as crack as she tried to lift their spirits.

It was never “You can do it.” It was always “We can do it.”

There were no known ways of treating the afflicted. Lost in despair, all these people could do was wait for death to take them. But Lalaya’s words ignited a fresh light of hope within them. In the castle, the king was using every ounce of his position and privilege to try to find a cure for his people. With Lalaya here, they could believe that. Her presence alongside them was all the proof the people needed.

And then, the hope that had seemed so agonizingly distant appeared right in front of them—in platinum blonde hair and jade eyes.

“At the king’s request, the People of the Forest have come to distribute some medicine. We will attend to each of you in order, so please stay in your beds.”

The stranger standing in the door stole the attention of everyone in the room, patients and doctors alike. Her words were beyond belief.

“You...brought medicine?” Lalaya, having just stepped into the room herself, was just as shocked as everyone else. “You can cure us?”

Everyone in the room watched with bated breath as Lalaya walked over to the new arrival.

“Yes, of course,” the woman replied, nodding with a slight bow, but otherwise showing no sign of fear before the princess. “I will take over leadership of this facility for the time being. My name is Miranda. I have brought the medicine.”

As Lalaya looked at the woman, thinking idly that her eyes looked so much like Misha’s, she noticed a tear streaking down her own face.

And the next moment, a cheer went up around the room.

“However, the amount of medicine I have with me is rather limited.” Miranda’s next words brought silence back to the room. Lalaya frowned. “There is more coming, but it requires herbs from a distant land, so we cannot be sure when it will arrive. As such, please respect the order I set out for receiving treatment.”

A murmur went through the crowd.

“Very well.” Lalaya was the first to respond, wiping the tears from her face with a slow nod. “Please save as many people as you can, Lady Miranda.” And then she bowed.

The sight of a princess bowing to an apothecary with no fame or status made multiple people across the room gulp. However, Lalaya didn’t feel the slightest shame in her actions. It was only natural to thank someone who was here to save the lives of her precious people.

“Miss Apothecary, can I make a request?” one of the patients spoke up, breaking the silence that had settled over the room. “I am sure you have your own plans, but could you treat Lady Lalaya first?”

The request set the room to buzzing. Lalaya’s eyes went wide at the unexpected request.

“I am still doing fine.” She shook her head vehemently. “There are many people who need the medicine more than I do. Please help them first.”

“No! Lady Lalaya has to be first!”

“Please, Miss Apothecary, help Lady Lalaya!”

“We beg of you!”

The voices of the other patients drowned out her objections.

“If Lady Lalaya doesn’t get any of the medicine, then neither do we!”

“Please, Miss Apothecary!”

More of the patients spoke up, wheezing and hoarse. Even the family that had come to help tend to the sick looked at Miranda pleadingly. Lalaya looked out over the room, stunned.

“Lady Lalaya is our hope!”

“She means too much to us! We can’t afford to lose her!”

Patients who couldn’t even move a few minutes ago were now forcing themselves up in their beds, chanting her name between agonized coughs.

Is this what you meant by our love coming back to us, mother...? Tears trailed down Lalaya’s face once more.

Miranda clapped her hands loudly, silencing the chorus of the sick. “Very well, I have heard your requests. Please calm down.” As quiet returned to the room, Miranda turned to Lalaya with a smile, producing a handkerchief to wipe away the girl’s tears. “Please come with me. It appears I won’t be able to get anything done unless I start with you.” And then she gently placed her hand on Lalaya’s back, urging her forward. “What selfless people. They must love you very much.”

“Yes. They’re...wonderful.” Lalaya managed a small nod, her legs still trembling as she let Miranda guide her away.

Chapter 10: What Lies Beyond Regret

“Hey, we’re here to help,” Ryne said as he brought Misha into the medical clinic.

Unfortunately, she didn’t have time to be excited over seeing Miranda again for the first time in so long. Together with the now undisguised Miranda were two others sharing similar hair and eye color, and all three of them were hard at work making medicine.

Miranda didn’t even lift her eyes from her task at Ryne’s carefree greeting, simply pointing to the corner of the room. “There is some prepared medicine there. Give it out, starting from the second room—Nel’s instructions. He said no one in the first room will respond to the medicine.”

Misha tensed up. In order to better take care of them, the patients had been divided up into rooms based on how far their symptoms had progressed. The people suffering the most were in room one, then people suffering less were in room two, and so on. So, if patients from the second room and onward were the only ones to receive medicine...

“Got it. They can just drink it, right?” As Misha stood frozen, Ryne got to work retrieving the pot that Miranda had indicated.

“Yes. One cup each. Make sure they drink it all—”

“Um! What about the first room...?” Misha interrupted, determined not to give up despite feeling very much like she was being left behind.

Surprised by Misha of all people interrupting her, Miranda finally stopped what she was doing and looked up. When she saw how Misha’s face had gone pale, she frowned. After a short pause and a shake of her head, she explained, “Unfortunately, we don’t have much medicine. We can’t afford to give it to people who won’t benefit from it.”

“But it might help!” Misha cried.

“It might, but it’s much more likely it won’t. We have to prioritize those we know we can save. We can’t choose who we treat based on nothing but feelings,” Miranda spoke to her gently, as if she were talking to an infant. She stared Misha directly in the eye. “It will take at least a few days before the next batch of medicine arrives. In all that time, the symptoms will keep progressing. Do you understand now?”

Unable to offer any argument, Misha fell silent. As Miranda gave her a gentle push on the back, urging her to start walking, tears started down the girl’s face.

Miranda was right. Misha knew that, but her heart refused to accept it. In the back of her head, she couldn’t help but picture the troubled smile of a particular old woman back when Misha had given her some medicine for what she thought at the time was just a cold. The very first victim of the Red Eye plague that had come to this infirmary, Yuu and Anna’s grandmother, was in that first room. She had been unconscious the entire time. Doctors had barely been able to give her water; it was miraculous that she was still hanging on at all.

After stumbling into the hallway, Misha came to a stop, dropping to the floor. Burying her face in her knees, she curled up into a little ball. Ryne, who had been waiting in the hallway for her, watched her with a small sigh. It was as if the little apothecary were afraid she would be attacked. The world saw them as omnipotent miracle workers, but the People of the Forest were no gods. No matter how hard they tried, there were always lives that would slip through their fingers. Ryne had seen plenty of his friends crushed by that reality, giving up and consigning themselves to “research” back in the village.

Come on, Miranda. You know I’m the wrong guy for this, he thought.

Ryne had no idea what to say to encourage someone who had been so thoroughly broken. He never spent time with other people. He hardly visited his own home; he was a wanderer, traveling from one nation to the next.

After scratching at his hair in frustration, he stood in front of her. “If it’s too tough for you here, go back to the castle. The princess already got her medicine, so you can observe how her recovery is going.”

She trembled at Ryne’s blunt dismissal. His offer was endlessly tempting. If she returned to look after Lalaya, she wouldn’t have to deal with any of the other victims. She figured there were plenty of real People of the Forest here now. No one would try to drag Misha back out into this war zone at her age. And if she stayed in the castle, maybe she’d be spared these feelings of powerlessness in the face of the plague.

But deep inside her, something whispered softly. Something told her that if she left now, she would never truly be an apothecary. She would never come close to the reliable, beloved person her mother had been. That was why, although her eyes stayed glued to the floor, she still weakly shook her head.

Ryne heaved a sigh. “Okay, then. I’m going on ahead. Come along once you’re somewhere near presentable. Got it? If you’re going to stress the patients out, I’ll kick you out in a heartbeat.”

Giving her a final pat on the head, Ryne briskly made his way toward the second room. For someone who was as ignorant and indifferent to the subtleties of the human heart as Ryne was, that was the best comfort he could offer.

Now alone in the silent hallway, Misha sat huddled helplessly down on the floor. Having been faced with her own inadequacy so many times already that day, Ryne’s words repeated over and over in her head.

“I don’t care if it’s a bluff. When you’re in front of a patient, you stick your chest out with pride. They’re already suffering from their illness. If the patient sees you being uneasy, they’ll get scared.”

Suddenly, the words her mother always repeated to her when she was young echoed alongside Ryne’s.

They said it differently, but I guess they were trying to tell me the same thing.

The moment she realized that, she felt a soft, familiar warmth on her head—so reminiscent of the way her mother would rest her hand on her head. She pulled her eyes off the floor. And when she looked up, what she saw in front of her was the very same gentle smile she had been longing to see.

“Mom...”

From the faint light she gave off and the way Misha could see right through her, the little apothecary knew this figure wasn’t from this world, but Misha didn’t care about details like that.

“Mom!”

The person she wanted to see more than anyone else in the world was right in front of her. The tears she had been holding back burst forth.

“I... I...”

So many feelings sprang to life in her chest, but none of them could make their way into words. Meanwhile the wispy figure of her mother, still with a gentle smile on her face, lifted a transparent hand to point down the hallway—toward the room where Ryne had just gone, where the patients were waiting.

“But... I...” Misha shrank back, head dropping again. No matter how hard she tried, she just didn’t have the courage to face the results of her own arrogance.

All of a sudden, a nostalgic scent swept over her, as did a warm embrace. A precious, unforgettable warmth wrapped around her.

“It’s okay, Misha. Just smile.” And with that small whisper, the scent and the warmth vanished.

“Mom, wait!” Misha’s eyes snapped open, but she was alone once again.

Maybe it had just been a hallucination born of her own weakness, but she could still remember how clear that scent had been, how real that warmth had felt.

“I’m sorry, mom,” she muttered weakly, finally picking herself up off the ground. “I must be an awful daughter for making you worry after you’ve already passed on.”

Then she forced her mouth into a smile.

“Even if it hurts, even if it’s a bluff...right?” she murmured again, this time to herself. Then she forced her trembling legs to step forward one after the other. There was still more she could do. No matter how much pain she was in, no matter how pathetic she felt, she had to do what she could. For the sake of the young girl who had vowed to become an apothecary like her mother.

The Redford doctors and those from the People of the Forest continued to administer the medicine according to Miranda’s instructions. As they had expected, the worse the symptoms the patients were suffering, the less effective the medicine seemed to be. While their conditions certainly improved, they were nowhere near cured. The medicine was effective at killing the parasites and expelling them from the body, but the eggs were relatively unaffected, so patients needed to repeatedly take the medicine as those eggs continued hatching before the new generation of the parasite could start reproducing. Those with lighter symptoms could get away with two or three doses, but others needed much more.

The frustrating part was that it was a parasite. If even a small number of them remained in the body, they’d reproduce and start the whole process over. If they couldn’t be entirely exterminated, those who appeared to have recovered would find themselves getting sick again eventually.

In short, the medical professionals here had even less medicine available than they realized. Reducing the number of the parasites in the body did help relieve the patients of their symptoms, so instead of taking repeated doses to perfectly cure them, they focused on giving the minimum dosage to as many people as possible, hoping to extend their lives and buy some time.

Likely thanks to the banning of eating karas, new cases of the Red Eye plague became rather rare. In truth, it would have been ideal to give a dose of the medicine to anyone who had eaten raw karas at some point in the past, but resources were strained as it was just handling those who were definitively sick.

In the end, all they could do was wait for more medicine, which had to come from the far northern part of Carmine, past numerous nations. Not all of those nations were especially stable, so no one but the gods could guess when it might arrive.

The days dragged on slowly and painfully.

“You can do it. Just drink a little at a time,” Misha whispered softly, pouring a tiny spoonful of medicine into an unconscious patient’s mouth. She had run into many cases where they appeared to be unconscious but would respond to her voice, so she had started giving fever reducers and nutritional supplements to them.

Trying to give a large amount of water to someone who was unconscious threatened to send it down to their lungs instead of to their stomach, which would cause significantly worse problems. So she had to be painstakingly slow and careful as she administered the medicine to them.

“Great work. Okay, just one more. Let’s get better soon so we can smile with everyone.”

Whenever she had a spare moment, she was here giving patients medicine. Once she finished, she would go back to the medicine room and experiment with what herbs they had available, looking for something that would be even slightly more effective. Those two activities made up her life for those days.

Redford was currently concealing the fact the Red Eye plague had struck the capital once more. They were afraid that foreign adversaries would see their weakness and pounce, as they had in the past. Instead, countermeasures for these very same emergencies took effect throughout the kingdom; resources poured into the locked-down capital, sparing them from shortages of food or medicine.

The chaos of the first plague had stagnated the flow of goods in the kingdom, causing starvation to become a real problem, never mind a lack of medicine. This time, thorough preparations and careful rationing had prevented that from happening.

Getting her hands on as many herbs that were effective for dealing with parasites as possible, Misha tirelessly continued working on developing new medicine, and she regularly asked Ryne and Nel for advice.

“Now that we know it’s a parasite, we should try everything we have on hand in case something works. If all we can do is wait for more medicine to arrive, we may as well try—even if it amounts to nothing,” she had decided.

There was a clear desperation to her face, a paleness to her complexion that spoke of the hours of sleep she wasn’t getting. Although she was taking some time to sleep, the constant anxiety she faced kept that sleep from being restful. Nevertheless, she never failed to have a bright smile when working with the patients. Even as she tended to those who had lost consciousness, her bright demeanor was uplifting to their exhausted families.

Despite understanding why the medicine was rationed the way it was, the families of those who were too sick obviously struggled with the feeling that their loved ones were being left to die. They had to be frustrated and heartbroken.

But even among that despair, there was one girl working tirelessly and desperately to make a difference, as small as it might be. There was one person giving everything she had to keep their loved ones alive for even one moment longer. The hopeless, forlorn atmosphere of that room gradually began to soften around her.

“We won’t forget how much you did for her. Mother was so happy.”

As patients started to succumb and pass away, their families came to Misha with heartfelt gratitude. They brought her close to tears herself. She could only ever shake her head modestly in reply.

Misha quickly realized that if she had run around the city searching for other People of the Forest, not only would she likely never have found any, but even if she had, it wouldn’t have changed how much medicine they had access to. Nel had sensed the coming of the plague on his own and had come to help as fast as he could. As cold as they were in tone and demeanor, the People of the Forest would never let people die for no reason. That was their pride as a tribe that made their mission to fight against illness and infirmity in every form. Ryne and the others could not have arrived in the capital any sooner.

Even though she understood this in her head, Misha constantly found herself asking, “But what if...?” Ryne had spoken to her harshly when they had first reunited, chastising her for failing to take the best possible course of action as fast as possible, both because he had foreseen this was exactly how she would feel and because it had been a mistake on her part.

Deep down, she couldn’t help but feel like she was somehow responsible for everyone’s suffering here. When she closed her eyes, the faces of the dead came to her in her dreams. They never said anything. They just stared at her sadly.

If only someone had just blamed me.

She thought back to when those men had accosted her in the castle. Though it had hurt to be shouted at like that, thinking back on it now, she had also felt something like relief.

But before she could latch on to that foolish way of thinking, Ryne had shown up to shatter her delusions.

“You can’t just apologize and make everything better. Licking your wounds like that means nothing. If you have time to wallow in self-pity, you have time to help patients. Luckily for you, we’re short on people, so there’s plenty of work you can do.”

While she was in the midst of blaming herself for what was happening, Ryne grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and threw her into the laundry room.

As rough as he was, spending half a day in a daze cleaning soiled sheets and bandages had finally gotten her to the point where she could help out in the infirmary again. She didn’t really know how to handle being thanked for the work she did there, so the moment the families were gone, she bit her lip and turned back to the medicine room in search of anything else she could do to help.

The others around Misha saw her desperation and tried to stop her, but Ryne insisted they let her be.

“For her own sake, she needs to be able to immerse herself in something. If things get really bad, I’ll make her take a break, even if I have to drug her, but for now, let her keep working.”

The inability to let go of those you had failed to save was an inevitable struggle for every medical professional. As young as Misha was, she still called herself an apothecary, so this was a trial she would have to overcome. That had been enough to silence the objections.

After some time, as plans shifted from completely curing people to simply buying time for more medicine to arrive, there was enough medicine to spare for the first room of patients, where there had been no hope of being able to save anyone. The People of the Forest claimed they were reversing course on their previous decision so that they could determine how far gone someone could be yet still be saved, but much of the reason came from seeing how hard Misha was trying to save those otherwise hopeless patients.

The People of the Forest already had a powerful sense of kinship between them. Seeing one of their children, someone they should have been protecting at all costs, run herself ragged trying to do whatever she could was too much for them to bear. Ryne had rolled his eyes but otherwise hadn’t objected to Nel’s decision, so his personal opinion couldn’t have been much different. Misha was the only one who didn’t see through the facade, crying tears of joy at the news and diving right in to help distribute the medicine.

Unfortunately, as they had predicted, the vast majority of patients in that room showed no improvement even with the medicine. However, for those few who did start to improve, there was no shortage of celebration. If their lives could be extended one day longer, for even half a day longer, there was that much more chance of a miracle. That atmosphere quickly settled over everyone in the room.

While trying to administer some medicine to a barely conscious patient, Nel muttered to himself, “It seems the key is whether the eyes have turned red or not.”

“Why do you say that?” Misha asked as she overheard him.

“The parasite that causes the Red Eye plague normally lives symbiotically with the arkle,” he explained.

“Symbiotically?”

“Yes. It’s a bit of live and let live. The parasite takes root in the gut of the arkle and reproduces there, feeding off of the nutrients the bird takes in. And though we don’t know exactly in what way, it seems the arkles also benefit from this relationship, since when we tried removing the parasite from the birds, none of them survived for more than a year.”

Misha’s eyes went wide. The deadly parasite they were fighting so hard against was actually a benefit to its original host?

“Unfortunately, we haven’t figured out why exactly the birds died. It’s a difficult experiment to carry out. Arkles are large birds whose habitat spans continents. It’s basically impossible to reproduce that habitat in captivity. Being trapped in a cage causes them stress, which damages their health. It’s hard to distinguish deaths caused by captivity from those caused by a lack of the parasite. The wild arkle population isn’t that large either, so we can’t just capture them in large quantities, and the northerners worship them as messengers of the gods, so...”

“Grandpa Nel, you’re going off topic! And you’re taking too long! That’s not what I was asking about!” Misha cut him off from his tangent. Normally she would happily listen to his endless stories, but now wasn’t the time. “Why won’t the medicine work once their eyes turn red?”

Blinking in surprise at being interrupted right when getting into his story, Nel came to when he saw Misha’s serious expression, and he shrugged. “It’s a sign the parasite has spread to the patient’s head. They’ve made their way into the patient’s eyes, causing the blood vessels to burst. If there’s that many in the eyes, then there are almost certainly many more already wreaking havoc in the brain. The human brain is a very complex thing. With the knowledge we have now, there’s nothing we can do once it’s damaged. That is probably why the patients lose consciousness as well.”

“They damage the brain...” Misha repeated, putting a hand to her forehead.

The brain was known to be delicate and complex; it was widely accepted there was next to nothing known about it. The one commonly understood thing was that the brain gave instructions to the rest of the body. Depending on what part of the brain was damaged, victims could lose the movement of their arms and legs, the ability to swallow, or even their memories. There were all sorts of strange symptoms that could result from brain damage.

“Mom said people had figured out a little bit about what part of the brain controlled each part of the body...” Misha murmured, recalling stories her mother had told her.

Nel’s eyes widened. “Leyas was still talking about that kind of stuff after leaving the village? She was much like you, listening to anyone that would speak with her. Perhaps one of them was bragging about a discovery they made and she picked it up. Even so, I’m impressed you remember.” Nel shook his head as he muttered, thinking back to old times, before returning his attention to Misha. “That’s correct. The brain is like the control tower of the human body. For some reason or other, it seems the parasites are drawn toward it. What for? What do they do once they arrive? We’ll have to keep researching to find out.”

“Mom said that all living things want to have children and continue their bloodlines. So from arkles to karas and then to people... If the parasite does well in the arkles, maybe they don’t mean to infect others?” Misha murmured to herself. “That means they probably don’t intend to kill the people they infect, right? Because if their host dies, they won’t survive either.”

“Misha?” Nel called her name as she sank into her own head, but there was no sign she heard him. A strange light shone in her eyes as she stared blankly into space. It was almost as though she were looking into another world.

“They start in the stomach and go through the liver and kidneys to eventually build colonies in the lungs. They then travel under the skin until they reach the head. What are they trying to do?” she continued, sinking deeper and deeper into the sea of her thoughts.

“Misha, come back!” Nel shouted with a loud clap right in front of her face, snapping her back to reality with a jolt.

“Huh? What?” She blinked dumbly.

Seeing her back to normal, Nel let go of a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He had seen that light in her eyes before. Back when he was young, there had been a woman who had been celebrated by the People of the Forest as being a reincarnation of one of their ancestors. She had developed numerous new medical techniques and technologies, creating all sorts of new medicines. When she had been deep in thought, the look in her eyes—as if looking at nothing yet seeing something—had been exactly the same as he had just seen in Misha’s. And it had always terrified Nel when he was younger.

He’d been afraid the woman was losing herself in exchange for seeing a deeper truth of the world. In her lifetime, she accomplished many times more than any of the other People of the Forest. She also died many, many years younger than any of them.

“I thought you might still be a bit young, but...” After staring into the confused Misha’s eyes for a while, Nel finally spoke again. “Misha, could you help me with my work for a bit?”

Chapter 11: Autopsy

“Let’s begin with a short test,” Nel said as he brought Misha to another room near the medicine room, which, as far as she remembered, was used only for storage.

In the middle of the otherwise empty room was a large table, and beside it were a large bucket and water jug. Getting closer, Misha could see there was a tray on top of the table, holding a variety of tools. There were three blades with varying lengths and widths, two pairs of scissors, and a number of needles many times the size of regular sewing needles.

“Are these for dissection?” she asked. They were the same tools Ryne had used to teach her how to dissect animals back in the forest.

“Precisely. We’re going to take a look at this parasite of ours. I’ve already done this a few times myself, but it didn’t seem you had the time, so I never invited you. Sorry.”

Nel’s apology sounded like he had left her out of some particularly fun game. Misha wasn’t sure how to respond.

Ignoring her lack of reply, Nel took the cover off of the bucket beside the stand and stuck his hand inside, pulling out a karas. “It’ll be easier with a bigger one, so that’s what I got. After a few tries myself, I believe there are more of the parasites in larger specimens.”

Misha gave a relieved sigh. The slippery creature was the same mottled green and brown she remembered, but perhaps because she was only looking at one instead of a bucket full of them, Misha was much better able to stomach the sight of it.

“I put them to sleep in advance. They are quite slippery creatures, so it is such a pain when they fight back.” Nel gave a wry smile, recalling the circus that was his first attempt at a dissection.

When he tried this previously, the moment he’d placed one of them on the operating table, it had tried to scurry off. Naturally, he had tried to grab it to hold it in place, but it had easily slipped out from between his fingers. In the end, he’d had to work together with the man who had brought the karas in the first place, and they had just barely managed to return the creature to its bucket. That experience had taught Nel that linen gloves were an essential tool for working with the creatures. Eventually, he figured out he needed to sedate the karas and then restrain it with leather straps before getting to work, but it would have been nice if someone had warned him in the first place.

But the man who had brought the karas had an excuse. Usually, since the karas were just prepared as food, cooks tossed flour into the bucket to rob the karas of their slipperiness, used straw to rub off the slime from their skin, and then skinned them all within the bucket. Once the skin was removed, they were hardly slippery, so handling them was no issue. The servant hadn’t expected Nel to try and operate on a living karas, so he was just as surprised when Nel tried to get it on the table. It made sense from Nel’s perspective, as he was interested in seeing what was happening beneath the skin, but it was exceptionally bizarre behavior from the perspective of a local.

“Unfortunately, I couldn’t get small enough gloves for you, so I’m afraid you’ll just have to watch,” Nel said to Misha.

With practiced smoothness, Nel fixed the karas into the restraints on the table, having acquired a pair of translucent gloves without Misha realizing it. They were tight enough to conform to the shape of his hands, but thin enough that each wrinkle in his skin was still visible.

“What are those made of?” she asked.

“Oh, has Ryne never shown you these before? I suppose it’s not that surprising, even as adaptable as he is. You can only make them with tools we have in our village.” Nel spread his hands wide for Misha to see. “It’s fluid from a certain plant mixed with a mineral powder. They are perfectly waterproof and somewhat elastic. We make them to match the shape of your individual hands, so you can still work your fingers with remarkable dexterity. They’re quite convenient.”

Misha watched transfixed as he opened and closed his fingers. “If they’re waterproof, does that stop diseases from passing through as well? So you can treat people without worrying about cuts and scrapes on your hands?”

Misha had been lectured ad nauseam as to how diseases and infections could enter the body through damaged skin, and so she needed to be exceptionally careful when touching sick people. But daily life often left her with tiny scrapes and cuts all over her hands. Keeping her hands and arms perfectly pristine was incredibly difficult. Even scrapes too small to be seen with the naked eye were dangerous, so she was told to always use that antiseptic cream as well.

However, covering your hands with that cream made them extremely slippery, so it was difficult to do any precise work in that state. On top of that, you needed to reapply it every time you washed your hands. It was a frustrating, time-consuming practice.

“That’s right. They are very useful when touching wounds or inside of a patient’s mouth. I carry as many pairs as I can whenever I leave the village.”

“That sounds great. I wish I had some.” Misha made no attempt to hide her envy, earning a cackle from Nel.

“Once you come back to the village, I’ll have some made for you. Anyway, for now, you’ll just have to watch.” With that, he began slicing open the belly of the karas. “From the specimens I’ve dissected so far, I’ve yet to see any oddities in the eyes. Instead, I have found them lying just under the skin or in the mucus on the outside of the skin. For the record, that is unique to these karas. The parasites do not appear that way in the arkles.”

Evidently quite experienced in this kind of work, Nel’s explanation didn’t so much as slow his hands as he cut open the karas. With great precision and speed, he had the karas’s organs exposed.

“Near the abdomen here we have the stomach and intestines. From the samples we’ve observed, it seems the parasite makes its way to the karas through the droppings of the arkles. Either the karas are accidentally sucking in some of the arkle droppings when they gobble up the fish they usually feed on, or those fish already ate the droppings and had the parasite’s eggs inside them. Once the number of parasites grows to a certain extent, it moves into the mucus membranes of the karas and begins laying eggs. It then transfers through the mucus to other karas, spreading throughout the population. At least, that’s our current conjecture.”

“So, there are eggs in the mucus on their skin? On the outside?” Misha asked, staring intently at the karas on the table. With the way it had been opened up, there wasn’t much skin left to see, but she was nevertheless transfixed by what little was still visible. No matter how hard she looked, she couldn’t see any signs of bugs or parasites.

Nel gave a short laugh as he saw her staring so intently. “The eggs aren’t even a millimeter across. They are basically impossible to see with the naked eye. If I hadn’t happened to see some of the live parasites coming out onto the skin to lay their eggs, I never would have found them.”

Nel continued with his dissection. Stomach, guts, liver, and kidneys. Bladder, reproductive organs. Heart...

“And here are the lungs.” Nel extracted and placed the lungs on the table, longer and thinner in shape than the pictures Misha had seen of human lungs in books.

“This is where the parasite that causes the Red Eye plague gathers, right?”

“Correct. Now, let’s take a look.”

Misha watched nervously as Nel’s blade sliced into the light pink flesh. Inside, she saw a large number of small, rash-like lesions, each about two or three millimeters across.

Misha tilted her head in confusion, surprised at how small the lesions were. “That’s it?”

“Yes, these are the colonies. Let’s look inside.” Nel stuck the smallest of his scalpels into one of the lesions, peeling back its surface. The inside was filled with a whitish, translucent substance. Misha frowned, leaning in closer. Seeing she couldn’t quite tell what she was looking at, Nel handed her a small tube the size of his palm.

“What’s this?”

“A portable microscope. It’ll help you see a lot better.”

“A microscope?” Misha echoed the unfamiliar word, accepting the cylinder. A quick inspection showed there was glass on each end of it.

“You can think of those glass ends like lenses for a pair of glasses. Anyway, let me show you. You put your eye on this end.”

Because she wasn’t sure of what she was doing, Nel took the device back and showed her how to use it.

So I look through one of the lenses and point the other one at the thing I want to examine. I wonder why the tube spins like that?

“I’ve adjusted it now, so just take a look like I did.” After he handed the microscope back to her, Misha looked through it as Nel had shown her.

“What?!” The sight nearly made her jump. When looking at it with just her eyes, the colony looked like an unidentifiable white mass, but now...

Misha took a deep breath, trying to calm down enough to stop her hands from shaking, then looked through the microscope again.

“Wow...”

She saw a world unlike anything she’d ever seen with the naked eye. The unidentifiable white mass was actually a bundle of little white eggs. There were so many stuck together that they seemed like a single substance. In addition, she could see translucent worms among the eggs, and upon closer inspection, she could tell they were squirming around.

“This is the parasite?” Misha asked, looking up at Nel bewildered. They were so small, she doubted she could even pick them up with her fingers. It was hard to believe something so minuscule was so deadly.

“Yes. That’s the little bug that started it all,” he replied with a quiet nod.

On closer inspection, they did indeed seem to be living things. They had something resembling eyes and a mouth, and she could make out shapes that appeared to be organs within their translucent bodies. The way they writhed and wriggled made it clear they were moving intentionally.

“This little bug started it all,” Misha repeated. The faces of all the people she had seen suffering came up in the back of her head. People who struggled to breathe, who suffered with intense fevers, who had those red lines snaking across their skin, whose eyes had gone bloodred...

“Okay, now we’ve confirmed they’re there. On to the real show.” Nel clapped her on the shoulder as she fell silent. “They should be ready for us now. Let’s take a look at how they look in a human host.”

Nel began to push Misha from behind, urging her out of the room while signaling the others that had appeared to clean up after them.

“The real show? What’s next?” Misha asked as Nel led her out of the building.

Once they started going behind the clinic, Misha finally realized where they were headed and immediately tensed up. They were heading to a small church, a place where they prepared the bodies of those who had died to the Red Eye plague for funeral services, and then sent them off for burial.

In order to stop the spread of the plague, families of the victims had been forbidden from taking their bodies home, so all of the dead, rich and poor alike, passed through there. Until the People of the Forest came and revealed the cause of the plague, many families hadn’t even been able to see their loved ones before their deaths.

“A rather precious individual has gifted us her body, so it is time to do some research,” Nel whispered as he led her to a room inside the church.

Misha recalled what Ryne had told her when he first met her in Redford: If she had done an autopsy on one of the victims of the plague, she would have recognized the cause of it.

One of the people who passed away...?

Misha remembered the face of a particular woman. She was one of the first patients to be brought in, a middle-aged woman living together with her elderly mother. They were quite close and had no other family between them.

“She had told us her mother wasn’t doing well. After a few days passed, we realized we hadn’t seen either of them for a few days, so we went to make sure they were okay,” one of the neighbors said, the one who had discovered them. News of the Red Eye plague returning had reminded him the mother and daughter hadn’t been seen recently.

The mother had already passed, and the daughter had collapsed at her side, unconscious, covered in red lines, her eyes bloodred. She had still been breathing, but only barely. Brought to the infirmary, despite best efforts at treatment, she had never regained consciousness. Misha never even heard her voice. She had tried to give the woman some medicine, but she hadn’t had the strength to swallow anymore, so Misha could only watch helplessly as she continued to deteriorate.

The morning of the day before, she had quietly passed away. Everyone sent her off with tears, hoping she would at least now be in a world without suffering.

“Miss Hannah?”

In the middle of the empty, sterile room, that same woman now lay in front of her. Her face was pale and strangely peaceful, as if she were asleep. She looked so much like Misha’s own mother had on that fateful day.

“Ever since coming to the clinic, Miss Hannah didn’t wake up a single time. Her only relative I heard about was her mother, who died before her. Who gave permission to do an autopsy on her?” Misha asked softly, voice trembling as she looked up at Nel. “You think it’s okay to carve up someone’s body just because there’s no one to tell you not to?!” By the time she finished, she was shouting.

Hannah had suffered so much from the plague, but now she was finally at peace. Misha couldn’t see cutting apart her body as anything less than desecrating it. Even if she knew the value a body like this would provide for research, she couldn’t stand by without saying anything.

“Well, yes. But that’s not the only reason,” Nel responded, voice subdued. There was no sign of surprise in him at Misha’s shouting.

As an old man, he had lived many times longer than Misha had. His methods had faced criticism plenty of times in the past. He had been a part of this very conversation more times than he could count. He was more than comfortable navigating these waters.

“Judging by the timeline of her illness, her mother was probably the first to fall victim to the Red Eye plague during this outbreak. Learning from the last plague, the people were instructed very clearly to inform the kingdom if anyone were to die of suspicious causes. And yet when her mother died, this woman was too scared to say anything. She kept it a secret.” Nel’s voice echoed from the stone walls of the empty room. The dignified, austere tone in which he spoke helped cool Misha’s head.

“But then the daughter... Hannah contracted the disease. As badly as she was suffering, she had hidden the terrifying truth of the plague in her mother’s death. She couldn’t very well leave home herself. She was suffering so much and overwhelmed by fear for having ignored the commands of the kingdom. Among all those feelings, she also seemed overwhelmed by remorse.” Nel could only imagine what kind of fear, what kind of despair she had felt as she lay wasting away at her dead mother’s side.

He held out a piece of cloth to Misha. It was an old scarf. It was old and faded, but something seemed to be drawn on it using ashes from a spent hearth. Closer inspection revealed they were letters, spelling out the words “I’m sorry” over and over and over, together with a prayer for salvation.

“‘Please make the plague go away’...” Misha gulped as she read the words aloud.

Literacy wasn’t especially common among the regular population. One could take what she had written as the best way she had known how to write a wish that she be cured.

“She was supposed to be unconscious the whole time, but her hands were always folded in prayer. I’d pull them apart when I was wiping her down to keep her clean, but then the next time I saw her they’d be folded again...” A tear rolled down Misha’s face. She reached out and put a hand on Hannah’s cheek. “She’s so cold...”

There was no soul left in this body, but it still served as proof that the woman named Hannah once lived. Misha could tell from the wrinkles around her eyes that she must have smiled and laughed a lot. Even after wasting away from disease, there was still plenty of muscle on her arms, proof she had worked hard every day.

“Miss Hannah... Please teach us how we can fight the Red Eye plague,” Misha whispered as she closed her eyes and folded her hands in prayer. There was such as much heartfelt sincerity in her words as there had been in the prayer she offered for her own mother.

I wish I could have heard her voice.

She had heard from Hannah’s neighbors that she had been a great singer.

“Okay. Are you ready now?” Nel asked once Misha had said her piece.

“Yes. Please go ahead, Grandpa Nel. Show me what Hannah has left to say to us.”

Misha wasn’t the only one who was there to witness the autopsy, though with how busy the medical professionals were, coupled with the cultural taboo against dissecting bodies, ultimately only Conan and a small handful of other doctors joined them. This was actually the third autopsy they were performing, so for Nel and the other People of the Forest, this one was more to confirm what they had found than to discover anything new.

“There are quite a few more colonies in the lungs than I expected. It took quite some time for her to be brought to the clinic, so perhaps the parasite had more time to grow.”

Misha looked down at Nel’s work from the side. “They’re quite a bit bigger than the ones we saw in the karas. I can see them with just my eyes.”

While the parasites in the karas were too small to be observed with the naked eye, the ones they extracted from Hannah’s lungs were almost twice the size, large enough that she could have picked them up with a pair of tweezers.

“The abundance of nutrition they could extract from their much larger host must have led to them prospering as well. That would also explain why the parasite’s behavior is so much more complex in humans. In karas, they never seem to reach the creature’s brain,” Nel responded, carefully placing one of the insects on a glass dish with his tweezers.

“I see...” Watching the specimen as it was placed there, Misha caught a faintly sour smell in the air. It seemed strangely familiar. “Oh, it was Miss Mary,” she murmured after some thought. With how empty the room was, her soft murmur quickly drew the attention of the whole room to her.

“Miss Mary? You mean the woman you brought here first?” Ryne immediately asked.

“Er... Y-Yes...” she replied meekly, faltering at the sudden attention.

“Why do you mention her? She is still alive, is she not?” Conan asked, evidently confused.

“I smelled something sour just now and was trying to remember why it was so familiar. I smelled something similar mixed in with the smell of blood from Miss Mary’s lung hemorrhage. I suppose the parasite gives off that smell...”

“A sour smell? Really?” Nel asked, bringing the dish close to his face and sniffing.

Ryne repeated the action after, but neither of them seemed convinced. “I suppose now that you mention it...maybe? But you sure have a sharp sense of smell, Misha.”

Each of the observers in the room gave it a shot, but none of them could really pick up the scent to the same degree that Misha could.

“I suppose it’s not really important. I just thought it was strange,” Misha said, not even sure why she had taken such notice of the smell. But Nel still looked at her with a heavy frown.

“What’s wrong, old man?” Noticing the look on his face, Ryne called out to him, bringing the old man back to reality.

“Oh, Misha just reminded me of something. The people up north say that arkles don’t make good food because there’s a distinct smell to their meat. I thought that maybe the parasite adds that smell, causing other animals to dislike preying on them. Rotten meat begins to smell rather sour, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, so that’s the advantage the arkles gain from the parasite?” Misha’s eyes went wide, recalling their previous conversation.

“Maybe. It wouldn’t explain why removing the parasite causes the bird to die, though, so there is likely something else,” Nel replied offhandedly, getting a small frown from Misha.

“And if it’s supposed to stop predators from eating them, it’s a bit odd that the smell isn’t strong enough for any of the patients we have to be giving off that smell,” Ryne said. “Perhaps there simply aren’t enough of the parasites to give that much smell when the host is that much larger, or the larger host caused the parasite to change in some other way...” He scowled, and after a few more moments of thought, he threw his hands up. “Unfortunately, this is entirely out of my wheelhouse. I’ll leave the conjecture to Old Man Nel. Can I proceed?”

Being a surgical specialist himself, Ryne had been called in to conduct the autopsy. Anyone among the People of the Forest would have experience doing these kinds of dissections, but as someone specialized in battlefield surgery, Ryne’s experience far overshadowed the rest of theirs. In truth, Ryne was the one leading the current operation.

“Very well. Let’s take a look at the brain next.”

“Got it.” With clean, precise movements, Ryne worked his scalpel and chisel to open a portion of the skull.

At first glance, there didn’t appear to be any damage to the brain. It seemed perfectly healthy. But as the brain was removed from the skull piece by piece, all those watching were stunned. A tremendous number of fully grown worms had collected in the inner parts of the brain.

“What the...?” While the Redford doctors stood with mouths agape, the People of the Forest scowled.

“Do you know what part of the body this controls, old man?” Ryne asked.

Nel thought for a moment. “Breathing and the nerves, I believe? I think this part over here is emotion and personality... Unfortunately, this is not my specialty,” Nel said as he pointed to places where there were clearly more parasites. But no amount of scowling at each other would get them the answers they were looking for.

“I guess we’ll have to take records and send them home, huh?”

“It appears that way,” Nel agreed with a sigh, beginning to collect the worms on a plate once more.

“What are you doing with those?” Misha asked as she saw him dividing the parasites up in their lidded glass dishes.

“The fact the same insects are gathering in different places may mean they are serving different functions. We divide them up by the place we found them so we can investigate later. For example, do you smell that same odor from these ones as you did the ones in the lungs?” he asked, holding out a dish toward Misha.

“No, there’s nothing,” Misha said after giving the dish a sniff.

Nel gave a smug grin. “Exactly. By understanding the differences between the parasites, we learn more about them. By learning about the illness, we arm ourselves to defeat it. It’s not like we know everything there is to know from the beginning. It takes plain old elbow grease to get there.”

After adding a note that there was no smell from these ones on a piece of paper, he pasted that slip of paper to the lid of the dish.

“Without our experimental tools and drugs, we can’t do much ourselves. The man bringing the next batch of herbs is supposed to be bringing that stuff with him. Until he arrives, we’ve got nothing to do but collect samples.”

“So you’re not actually just playing around,” Misha blurted out without thinking, getting a raised eyebrow from Nel.

“What was that for? You’ve been spending too much time with Miranda, haven’t you?” he muttered, not stopping in his work.

“Would you mind helping? This is going to take a while,” he said, handing Misha a set of tweezers and a glass dish. Though hesitant, she eventually sidled closer and started helping them harvest the little worms.

While they worked collecting specimens, Ryne sat beside them sketching on a piece of paper. A glance at his work showed that he was drawing pictures of the heart, lungs, liver, and brain. His diagrams had such detail and quality to make Misha feel like the real organs had been reproduced exactly on the paper. She was quite surprised to learn her uncle had such a talent for drawing.

After they were done, he carefully and precisely returned each of the organs to its rightful spot in the body, then covered it with white clothing decorated with elaborate embroidery. While her attention was captured by the elegant design, which reminded her of the embroidery on her good luck charm and her clothes, Nel stepped up to the side of the operating table and bowed his head low.

He then began to sing in a language Misha had never heard before. The strange chanting lasted only ten seconds, and when he finished, Ryne continued where he left off. And then another, and then another. One by one, all of the People of the Forest in the room repeated the same verse over and over.

And then suddenly the singing stopped, replaced by a crisp ringing sound. At some point, Nel had pulled out a small rod with a number of metal plates dangling from it, swinging it around to make the clinking noise. He shook the rod over Hannah’s head, once, twice, three times. Then Nel chanted something again quietly, as if to hide his words among the sound of the metal plates, bringing an end to the ritual.

Later, Misha would learn that this was a special funeral rite passed down among the People of the Forest. It held feelings of gratitude for someone whose life would help in their research of disease and wishes for them to find peace in the next world. The embroidery added to the clothing of the deceased was meant to carry the same message. But at the time, neither Misha nor the Redford doctors knew any of that. They simply bowed their heads in silence, letting the song echo uncontested in the small stone room.

“When the arkles feed their baby chicks, they likely pass the insects or their eggs on. Alternatively, perhaps the parasite is already present when the eggs are laid. They probably spread through the karas during egg-laying in the same way. It’s also possible that when the karas rub against each other in courtship, the parasite is shared among adults. Now Misha, here comes the question. People do not feed their young mouth-to-mouth like birds do. So how does the parasite behind the Red Eye plague try to spread between humans?”

That last question from Nel stayed with Misha for a long time.

Chapter 12: A New Drug

Misha was sitting in the break room, drinking some tea after having finished delivering her rounds of medicine for the day, when Nel poked his head into the room. Despite being in charge of the whole operation, Nel had left them to do their work so that he could explore the city. He claimed, “I’ve told you how to make the medicine, so there’s nothing left for me to do.” Ostensibly his walks around the city were for surveying the state of the capital, but Ryne very curtly surmised it was because he hated dealing with government officials.

With the man actually in charge perpetually absent, dealing with the political leaders of Redford had fallen to Ryne, a burden that was starting to show in dark circles under the surgeon’s eyes. Misha found it hard to watch. She knew he wasn’t being saddled with unreasonably difficult tasks, but she also knew Ryne became frustrated with other people quickly. This kind of work was far more taxing on him than working for days on his own without rest.

“This is your specialty, isn’t it?” Ryne finally threw up his hands, trying to force the job on Miranda, but she was still too angry about Ryne keeping in touch with Leyas in secret to even consider bailing him out.

“I’m afraid I must leave it to my superiors. A bit of hard work every once in a while will do you good,” she replied with a venomous smile, rebuffing all of Ryne’s calls for aid.

With no other work to keep him busy, Nel was frequently popping up around Misha. He never got in the way of her work, but he would show up the moment she took a break. The timing was so precise, she had to imagine someone must have been telling him when she was off work, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask about it.

It wasn’t like he was doing anything wrong, nor did she much care if the People of the Forest were keeping her under observation. She was much more interested in hearing Nel’s stories about Ryne and her mother.

She learned a lot about them. On one hand, there was Ryne, always coming up with outlandish and unprecedented ideas to experiment, and on the other, there was Leyas, who had slowly but surely built her knowledge and experience bit by bit. At first glance, they seemed to be the exact opposite of each other, and despite their numerous failures during their youth, they had both delivered results that caught the attention of the adults around them. Their dynamic was right out of a fairy tale. To Misha, it sounded like there was nothing the two of them couldn’t accomplish as they devoted themselves to their own fields of study.

I guess mom was always doing experiments back in the forest too. She was always making medicine in slightly different ways, trying to find out which process made the best one... I guess there’s no shortcut to success, huh?

On top of that, being an elder of the People of the Forest, Nel knew a great deal about the cultivation of herbs. The advice he gave her was always eye-opening. It became a great opportunity for Misha to step away from work, considering how hard she usually pushed herself. Plus, that it was Nel encouraging her to rest meant that Ryne’s demands that the old man get back to work were less effective. So, Nel started spending more and more time around her, no one quite sure whether this was overall a good or bad thing.

“Grandpa Nel, I have a question...”

When Misha tentatively spoke up as she was drinking her tea, Nel figured it was time for their usual question and answer session. Nel loved ambitious and aspirational children; every once in a while, they came up with an idea adults never would have considered.

“It’s about the Red Eye plague that this parasite causes. The parasite enters through the mouth, then starts to reproduce inside the host’s body. It travels through the blood to spread throughout, finally resulting in colonies in the lungs.”

“Indeed. After spreading throughout the smaller blood vessels, the patient starts showing signs of red lines across their skin and bleeding in the eyes. Is this just a review?” Nel frowned, not expecting her to have brought up the Red Eye plague.

“Yes, I’d like to go over it again. So, for those who are in the later stages of the disease, you need to both remove the parasites scattered across their entire body and get rid of the colonies in the lungs. But we don’t have any medicines that are effective on the lungs yet,” Misha said, her expression serious.

Seeing that familiar sparkle in her eyes, Nel sat up straight. “True. As I showed you earlier, the colonies in the lungs have a special barrier protecting them, making our current medicine ineffective. That is why our best method so far has been to repeatedly exterminate the adult parasites. So? Did you come up with something?”

“I once had a friend who got sick because of the fumes from a poison placed in her fireplace. Couldn’t we use a similar method to deliver medicine directly to a patient’s lungs?”

Nel’s breath caught. When a person took medicine orally, the body absorbed most of it before it reached the lungs, making it significantly weaker. Misha’s suggestion would make that medicine much more potent.

“But that would require a drastic alteration in the composition of the medicine. Do we have enough to experiment with?” Nel asked.

“I...haven’t talked to Miranda about it yet, but if we could directly handle the colonies in the lungs, recovery should be much quicker. I think that it’s worth trying. I don’t think we can afford to just sit around waiting for who knows how long for more herbs to arrive. If we find a better way to use it before it arrives, we can put it to use right away.”

Nel couldn’t help but smile at the intense look in Misha’s eyes. It had only been a few days ago that she was on the floor sobbing, overwhelmed by feelings of despair and helplessness. But now she was on her feet, facing forward and aiming upward. The dark circles that had started to form under her eyes were proof of the hours she had spent reading instead of sleeping over those few days.

Draining the last of his tea, Nel slowly rose to his feet. “If you’re that confident, you must have an idea of what you’re doing. Okay, let’s go.”

“Okay!”

Misha hurried off after Nel as he walked out of the room.

The two went to see Miranda, and Misha explained her thoughts and desire to experiment with new ways of preparing the medicine. Although she was hesitant to use what little they had left for research, Nel was staunchly on Misha’s side.

It had been long enough that they expected the next batch of herbs to arrive any day now, so now was the best time to develop a new way of using it, and they stood to gain a tremendous advantage if they were successful.

In the end, Nel’s support was enough to convince Miranda to give Misha a small amount of their remaining herbs. That said, she had really given the girl the smallest amount possible. Misha couldn’t afford to waste any of it. As little as she had received, it was enough to extend a person’s life by another day, so Misha accepted the herbs with a bow of thanks, taking them in her hands like they were precious jewels. As she held them, she felt the weight of people’s lives in her hands. It was enough to make her legs start to tremble.

So much so that she started to have second thoughts, thinking they should probably leave the experimenting to someone more experienced in making medicine than herself. But when she told Nel that, he shook his head.

“Leaving the experiments to the person who came up with the original idea gets better results. Don’t worry, I’ll be there if you need advice,” he said in a laid-back manner despite the gravity of the situation. As one more bit of encouragement, he gave her a gentle push from behind.

And so, despite being not quite sure of herself, Misha accepted that responsibility.

Using the herbs Miranda had given her, Misha began trying to develop a new kind of medicine. How could she get the medicinal components of the herbs into the air? What could she combine them with to increase the potency of those effects and improve the efficiency with which they were absorbed? For the first time, Misha learned how difficult it was to create something entirely new. She became frustratingly aware of how much she had relied on what her mother had taught her when creating medicine for people before.

Even so, now that she had begun, there was no giving up. The herbs they had already used were a precious resource that could have been used to save people’s lives. If she gave up, they’d all have been wasted for nothing.

I can be frustrated at being stupid and useless later. Right now, I have a problem to solve.

Having a clear objective helped tremendously. The problem squeezed everything else out of her head. She didn’t have the time or energy to worry about anything else. When she didn’t understand something, she’d pore over textbooks. When that failed, she’d find Ryne or Nel to ask for help. The whole situation taught her that she was horribly lacking in not just experience but fundamental knowledge as well.

Nel watched with great interest as an obviously exhausted but still doggedly determined Misha came to him with yet more questions. She knew the goal she sought, but she was still struggling to find a path that led to it. And yet, stumbling though she was, she was slowly drawing closer to that path almost entirely by intuition. He had to admit he was always excited to hear what she’d come up with next, so he avoided giving her any definitive answers, only observing as she worked.

If Miranda and the others saw this, they’d accuse me of being mean-spirited again, wouldn’t they?

He had to admit, acting like this while people’s lives hung in the balance was in poor taste. But realistically speaking, with how little of the herbs they had left, even if Misha succeeded today, they still wouldn’t be able to treat everyone.

Surely we can play around a little while we wait for more herbs to arrive.

The game had a strict time limit.

As Nel watched over her, there was a cold light hiding behind the joy in his eyes. Nel was one of those responsible for watching over the People of the Forest, judging what was best for them. If Misha proved she was of no advantage to them, he’d abandon her without a second thought. The People of the Forest prized their bonds as a tribe above all else. In that sense, Misha having grown up outside their village meant she wasn’t yet one of their people.

The fact that an elder of the People of the Forest had shown up here now of all times wasn’t just about curiosity toward a growing plague.

So, Misha...will you find the answer?

“No good. It won’t do anything like this,” Misha moaned, crumpling the paper she was writing a recipe on before flopping down on her desk. The dullness in her head was a clear sign she had spent too long reading and not enough time sleeping. She didn’t even have the energy to wipe away the tears welling up at her disappointment in herself.

The poison that had inspired her idea was a kind of mineral that melted when heated, then evaporated. If one breathed those vapors in, the poison would build up in their system over time until they eventually died. It was something that had been discovered while searching for other kinds of ore. Explosions used to break apart large boulders would melt the toxic mineral, then workers would unknowingly breathe it in, leading to multiple unexplained deaths. The strange illness only ever appeared in miners, so researchers had eventually been able to narrow down the cause. Apparently Nel had been involved in that research when he was younger. Misha had been quite surprised when he’d begun recounting the story.

With a heavy sigh, she closed her eyes.

What am I doing wrong?

She figured that if she wanted to deliver medicine to the lungs, it would be best to have it breathed in like that poison, but she couldn’t find a way to get the medicinal properties of the herb into a gaseous form. Her first thought had of course been to just boil the herbs, but the medicinal effects remained in the water, not in the vapors. Not wanting to waste what she had produced, she mixed it with sugar to create an easier to drink medicine, one the children suffering from the Red Eye plague had been overjoyed to receive.

Her next attempt had been to change the way she prepared the herbs, searching for a recipe that would produce something that could more easily be turned into a vapor, but she wasn’t getting results. Her best result so far had been something about half as effective as just drinking it.

At this rate, there barely seemed a point to her efforts. On top of that, having such limited access to the herbs meant that most of her efforts were focused on thinking through theories on paper. If one seemed promising, only then would she follow up with small-scale experiments. This process meant it took a great deal of time to make any sort of progress.

At this point, I’d be more helpful wiping sweat off the patients’ foreheads, she started to complain internally.

It had been quite a while since Nel had put in a request for the shipment of medicinal herbs. The political situation in the countries between Redford and the far north wasn’t exactly stable, so transporting goods that far took a considerable amount of time, but they were expecting it to arrive any day now.

Misha finally gave in, venting her frustration in a loud shout as she violently swept the papers off her desk. She swung her arms with such force that even the books on the desk were sent flying through the air, the assorted documents falling in a disordered mess to the floor beside her. The action kicked a surprising amount of dust into the air.

No matter how busy they were, the medicine room was obviously kept in pristine condition, but Misha had specifically refused anyone else entry into her private room. She didn’t want to risk the cleaners moving some book or document she might consult later.

In reality, that should have left Misha to do the cleaning herself, but she was too pressed by her current project to keep on top of it. Any time she thought of picking up a broom, she’d decide she would rather be diving back into the books. As a result, the room had become incredibly dusty.

Lost in her tantrum, Misha ended up taking a big gulp of air thick with freshly disturbed dust. Sucking in that much dust immediately brought on a choking sensation, followed by a coughing fit violent enough to bring tears to her eyes. The episode cut off her train of thought, and in the space left over something new started to glimmer.

Wait, wait! Coughing...why? I was choking on dust.

Dust...?

Miranda came running into the room in shock. Being in the medicine room next door, she’d heard Misha’s sudden shouting and the sound of her things being thrown off her desk. “Misha, what’s wrong?”

She was greeted with the sight of Misha’s things scattered across the floor. The tiny apothecary herself was hunched over her desk, wracked by coughing. Miranda knew those books and papers had been neatly piled on Misha’s desk the last time she saw her, and once she saw the clouds of fresh dust hanging in the air, it wasn’t hard for her to guess what had happened.

Looks like she’s hit her limit, Miranda thought. Misha had barely been eating or sleeping these past few days. Add to that her failure to produce any results, and it was easy to see why she would lose her temper. Leyas used to be like this too, didn’t she?

She sighed. Despite herself, Miranda couldn’t help but find the sight a bit nostalgic. “Are you okay?” she asked, covering her mouth with a handkerchief as she stepped through the room’s dust clouds to open a window, which immediately let in a warm, humid breeze, clearing most of the dust from the air. Miranda then stepped over to Misha, rubbing her on the back as the girl’s coughing fit finally started to subside.

She’s lost a lot of weight... We’ll have to start forcing her to eat better, Miranda decided. Misha had lost a lot of the softness one would expect from a girl her age.

Finally free from her coughing, Misha jumped to her feet and grabbed Miranda’s arms. “Mi...randa...! Please...!” Still out of breath from all the coughing, Misha started desperately trying to say something between gasps for air. Her unexpected intensity pushed Miranda back a step.

“Okay, okay, calm down. I can’t understand you,” Miranda replied, patting Misha on the shoulder in an attempt to calm her down.

Misha stopped, taking a few deep breaths of clean summer air. “I’ve got a new idea! Please let me test it!” Misha shouted, her eyes still moist as she stared up at Miranda.

Once others from the People of the Forest were in attendance, Misha announced, “If we can’t get the medicinal components into the air, they can just breathe the medicine in directly!”

Nel and Ryne were both stunned.

Misha continued, looking between all of the faces gathered. “Of course, we can’t give it to them how it is now. We need to clean the impurities out of it, then make it as small and fine as possible. Ideally even finer than flour. I also need to think of how they’ll breathe it in... Maybe we can fill a small tube with the medicine, and make them breathe it all in at once. Anyway, I’ll start testing with some other herbs we have.”

“What a bizarre idea. How did you come up with it?” Nel asked, bewildered.

Misha averted her eyes. The idea had come to her only because she had choked on dust. When the dust got into her airways, she’d started coughing in an attempt to clear it out. The fact she could breathe in enough dust to choke on meant the dust was being carried by the air through her airways. She had remembered a similar experience breathing in flour when making bread when she was younger.

In that case, if they could grind the ingredients fine enough, it should be possible to breathe it in directly.

“We’ll need a way to stop them from coughing it up immediately after breathing it in, but I think it’s a promising idea,” Miranda helped change the subject, having seen the moment of inspiration herself and realizing Misha probably would be too embarrassed to bring it up. It was no surprise Misha didn’t want to share that she had been working in an incredibly dusty room that she had neglected to clean.

“Fair enough. Breathing in fine dust without realizing it can cause damage to the lungs as well. There is probably a way to administer a small amount of medicine in the same way without triggering a coughing fit,” Nel murmured as he sank into thought.

A fierce knocking rapped at the door.

“What is it? It sounds urgent.” Ryne frowned as he opened the door, finding a city guard standing on the other side.

“A critical message has arrived for Sir Nel.” The guard handed over a small message tube, which Ryne passed to Nel, who carefully unrolled the message within to avoid damaging it.

Nel’s face slowly fell into a scowl.

“What’s wrong, old man? Bad news?”

After Nel handed the message back to Ryne, he turned to the room of uneasy expressions focused on him. “It’s a message from the one bringing the herbs. It appears war has broken out to the north, making travel by land impossible. He is instead coming by sea from Torans.”

“That means...”

Everyone was soon making similarly bitter expressions—except for Misha, who was still entirely in the dark.

“What’s wrong with coming by boat?” Misha asked, thinking of her own ocean voyage to Redford. It was much faster than traveling by land, and it had been quite comfortable.

“That part of the sea often has intense summer storms. Ships traveling a long distance tend to be rather large and keep to the open sea instead of close to shore. That makes it much more difficult to retreat to a safe harbor when storms hit. The journey will be much more dangerous,” Miranda explained so that Misha, someone with no knowledge of the sea, could understand. “There will still be a few merchant ships traveling this time of year, but there are many fewer than usual. I’m impressed he was able to find a ship that could fit his cargo.”

Nel simply shrugged. “He didn’t have the space to share the details, but apparently he couldn’t find a merchant ship. Instead, he’s hitched a ride with some traveling fishermen. A young boy he happened to encounter while sitting in the port unsure of what to do helped him make the deal.”

“A young boy? And a fishing boat is helping him transport goods?”

While the others stood confused, Ryne turned a small smile on Misha. “Sounds like they have a debt to the People of the Forest. What did you do this time, Misha?”

“A debt? Fishermen? A young boy?” Misha could only dumbly repeat what they had said. She remembered a girl and her beautiful dance, but...

Her family were fishermen, but...what young boy?

“In any case, fishing boats can be quite fast. We will probably see them in four or five days. We can clear everything up then. I suppose you have some work to do on your medicine before the new batch arrives, don’t you, Misha?”

She jumped at that.

“Refine your new medicine as best you can before the new batch arrives,” Nel finished with a grin, getting a nod from Misha.

Chapter 13: The One with the Medicine

Three days later, Misha was standing at the port, waiting for the boat to arrive. It was considerably earlier than they had anticipated.

A bird had come to inform them that the ship carrying their herbs had pulled into port. With Nel cooperating seriously in developing Misha’s new medicine, they had just started to see promising results as they got the news. It was almost like it had all been planned.

Having just been woken up from a rare nap by Miranda, Misha had been all but stuffed into the carriage. The vehicle rocked a half asleep Misha down to the port where a familiar salty breeze washed over her. Uncovered, her hair was left to flow freely in the ocean breeze. The breath of humid wind carried away the last of her sleepiness.

Which boat is it?

Misha was there to serve as a signpost for the new arrival, so there was nothing she could do but stand somewhere obvious and wait for them to notice her.

“Miiiiishaaaaa! Long time no see!”

Misha was suddenly rocked by someone jumping onto her from the side, wrapping her in a big hug that almost bowled her right over. When she finally pulled herself back enough to see who had attacked her, her eyes went wide.

“Kent?! What are you doing here? Where’s your grandmother?”

Kent grinned, like a child watching their prank succeed. “Granny is doing great. She’s back at the village. I’ve been traveling around doing merchant training. I was just up north.” In the months since they last met, he had grown quite a bit, taking on a more mature air. He puffed up proudly as he said, “We brought the herbs you were looking for!”

After Misha had left, Kent and his grandmother had been invited to visit the village where their textiles were made. As much as the village had developed because of their business, it was still a remote mountain village with little to offer in the way of stimulation. Having grown up in large cities all of his life—and having had quite the eventful life after that, for better or for worse—he had found himself tired of it all fairly quickly.

He had tried going to the school in the village, but his grandmother had already taught him reading, writing, math, and even accounting and management. The studies they undertook there were little more than child’s play to him.

His grandmother had settled into the village well, and her health had recovered. Feeling no need to stay there himself, Kent had decided to tag along with a group of merchants who had come to pick up the village’s products, leaving only half a month after they had arrived. Though his grandmother had sighed at his restlessness, she saw his curiosity as a good quality for a future merchant, and so she’d encouraged him to go.

Joining the company as an apprentice, he found the experience acquiring and selling merchandise to be dizzyingly educational. Kent had already been fearless and clever, so he adapted to the life of a merchant immediately. He quickly learned the tricks of camping out in the wilderness, a skill he had never encountered before, and he was soon helping to prepare meals for everyone.

They crossed mountains, oceans, and borders. Before he realized it, he was quite far from home. While he had to admit to feeling some level of homesickness, it was overshadowed by his excitement at all of the new experiences.

But just as suspicions about the area around them turning dangerous had the company starting talks about heading home, Kent came across a pair of familiar colors.

With the other merchants engaged in negotiations where a child like him wasn’t welcome, Kent had been free to wander the city. They were at the largest port in the country, so there were always people from all sorts of places coming and going. Just walking around and seeing them all was plenty of entertainment. All of the unfamiliar languages he came across left him with a longing to learn them.

While he was walking, he caught sight of someone that made him freeze in his tracks. Someone, probably a man, was conversing with the owner of a merchant ship. It was hard to tell much about the person, as they were wearing a heavy cloak that disguised all of their features.

Merchants prized trust and etiquette. Someone who covered their face during negotiations would immediately be shown the door. It was obvious the owner of the ship wasn’t interested in taking these negotiations seriously. As desperate as the hooded man was, it was clear he wasn’t going to get anywhere.

But Kent found himself drawn toward the two men and was soon walking their way. He had seen the briefest glimpse of the hooded man’s hair, the same color that one of his precious friends had.

He had tried to steal her purse in a market, and despite that, she had listened earnestly to his problems even though he’d been one step away from becoming a young criminal. She had even brilliantly helped solve his problems. It didn’t matter that Kent was young; he felt he owed her a debt he’d never repay.

As much as the man hid under his hood, Kent was short enough to see the man’s face. When he saw the man’s green eyes, his heart skipped a beat. Platinum-blond hair and green eyes—an unmistakable pair of attributes. He never expected he would meet another member of that phantom tribe so soon after leaving home.

“Hey, mister, do you need help?” Kent grabbed the man’s hand.

The two adults reacted with immediate caution at someone cutting into their conversation, but upon seeing the bright smile of a child looking back at them, they both relaxed.

“Anyway, sorry, mate. My plans are already filled up, and so is my cargo hold. You’ll have to find someone else!”

Seizing the opportunity to run now that the hooded man’s attention had shifted, the owner of the ship waved and walked away.

“Wait...” For a moment, it seemed as though the hooded man was going to give chase, but he ultimately gave up with a slump of his shoulders.

“Hey, are you looking for a ship? How far are you trying to go?” Kent asked, pulling at the man’s hand again.

The man gave a troubled smile. “I’m trying to get to Redford. I’ve heard it’s too dangerous to go by land these days, but going by sea seems equally dangerous this season,” the man grumbled a bit.

Kent frowned. The storms at sea this time of year were really bad. Heading to the next port over was one thing, but all the way to Redford? That would be quite a challenge.

“Can’t you break up your trip into multiple stops?” The innocent smile Kent had worn a moment ago was gone, replaced by the calculating expression of a merchant. Sensing this change, the hooded man’s behavior also shifted, the gentle smile he wore for children pulling back.

“There are people in need of medicine in Redford. I’m in quite a hurry.”

Kent pondered for a moment. Misha had said she was going to the Kingdom of Redford. This man from the People of the Forest was urgently delivering medicine to the same place. Maybe assuming the two were connected was a bit premature, but...

But Misha is really kind. She’d definitely try to get involved...

Kent took a deep breath, then started pulling the man’s hand. “My uncle is the boss of a big company. I don’t know if he can get you a ship, but I can at least introduce you.”

The man’s eyes went wide. “Why?” he asked the obvious question.

Kent gave a bright smile, staring up at those familiar green eyes, even if they were a bit lighter than Misha’s had been. “Someone who looks like you saved me once. So this is my way of saying thank you. We merchants have a strong sense of duty, you know.”

As expected, finding a ship that would take the man all the way to Redford proved to be quite difficult. It was impossible to predict the weather at this time of year. The threat of shipwreck was much higher during this season, so for two months across the summer, the number of ships traveling such distances declined sharply. The risk of losing the ship at sea weighed much more heavily than the risk of losing two months of business. Besides, being stranded at sea would likely cost them all their lives.

There were some ships still planning on going out during this season, but most of them already had their schedules and their cargo holds accounted for. It might have been possible to squeeze him and his cargo on one of those ships anyway, but if a storm hit and they needed to lose weight, it would obviously be his cargo first over the side. There was no point in rushing to deliver the herbs if there was no guarantee the herbs would actually make it to the destination.

Though they knew how difficult his request was, being turned down so many times was still starting to take its toll on their spirits. With the adults from his trade company locked in negotiations, Kent was left with nowhere to vent his frustrations, finding himself glaring at the ships resting in port.

“There’s so many ships, and Misha needs that medicine so badly...” he started to grumble, but then a hand plopped down on top of his head.

“Well, there’s nothing we can do about it. Sometimes things just don’t go our way.”

Looking up, he saw the hooded man offering him sympathy. It was the same man from the People of the Forest he had promised to help that day.

His name was Toma. He was a young and a rather quiet person. He’d be the first to admit that he was not very skilled when it came to negotiations. Normally he never left his home village, but at the request of one of their elders, he had left on a journey to gather some herbs close to their village and send them down to Redford. Being so poor at negotiating, he had struggled to even make it this far. From Kent’s perspective, it was clear that this elder had picked the wrong man for the job.

But despite knowing how ill-suited he was to the task, Toma had still thrown himself into the breach, unwilling to leave all of the negotiating to Kent. Kent had to like that about him.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s really important, right? Misha’s probably in a really tough spot.” Kent’s frustration leaked out in his voice.

Just as tears started to blur his vision, someone suddenly called out from behind him. “Hey, kid. Were you just talking about Misha? That wouldn’t happen to be the young apothecary girl, would it?” The heavy, coarse voice traveled easily over the sound of the waves, spinning Kent right around. Standing behind him was a middle-aged man, well tanned and staring straight at him. “And that cloak... Apothecaries wear those all the time, don’t they? Are you one of Misha’s friends?”

“Yeah, Misha is an apothecary. Do you know her?” Kent nodded, entranced by the man’s arms twice as thick as his own.

“You bet. Light blonde hair, green eyes, and cute as all heck, right? She saved my daughter’s life.” The man spoke with a bright smile. It was hard to believe this was any attempt at deception. “You guys in trouble? If you’re friends of hers, I’ll help.”

At the man’s insistence, Kent explained the situation. They had cargo that was desperately needed in Redford. It was too dangerous to travel over land, so they were looking for a ship to take them by sea, but with it being summer, they couldn’t find anyone to take them.

“Oh, is that all? I’ll take you.” The man listened with arms crossed until Kent finished his story, then threw that out without a second thought.

“Huh?” Kent was agape. It was way too convenient. He had to wonder if he had just been hallucinating.

“I have a fishing boat, not a merchant ship. It’ll smell of fish, and it won’t be very steady, but if you’re okay with that, I can take you. I was just planning on relaxing for a bit before heading home, so I don’t have any particular plans to worry about. I can leave whenever you like.”

“That would be amazing.” That answer came with a bright smile, not from Kent, but from Toma standing behind him. Stepping forward, Toma pulled back his hood and then bowed his head. Blond hair spilled out of his hood down to his shoulders.

“Oh, you’ve got that same hair and eyes as Misha. You two related?” the man observed happily, peering into Toma’s face. “Misha saved my daughter when she was kidnapped by a bunch of freaks about to kill her. My daughter’s the priestess of the dragon god, you see. So we don’t need to worry about any storms. You can rest easy with me!” the man declared proudly, taking Toma’s outstretched hand and giving it a hearty shake.

“What have you been doing, Misha? Just going around saving people all over the place?” Kent murmured to himself as he watched the two adults happily start discussing the arrangements.

It turned out the man’s fishing boat was much larger than they had anticipated, having space for twenty people on board. The holds normally reserved for fish were totally empty, so once they drained the water, they had plenty of space to carry Toma’s cargo.

“Are you sure about this? You were planning on fishing during your trip back, right?” Kent whispered to the fisherman, who regarded him with surprise, but that soon gave way to a hearty laugh.

“Come on, meeting friends of someone I owe so much to all the way out here has to be some kind of fate. We’ve both had our fair share of trouble! Besides, after all Misha did for me, if I gave her friends the cold shoulder, who knows what the dragon god would do to me?” the fisherman said, ruffling Kent’s hair. He then set off to make the final preparations for his departure.

That should have been when the two of them said goodbye, but Kent couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he asked the fisherman to bring him along for the voyage. The other members of the company saw Kent off with a mixture of amazement and exasperation.

As the fishing vessel pulled out of port, a strong wind kicked up behind them, almost as if on cue, catapulting them across the water at an incredible pace. Seasoned sailors would think that kind of speed was totally bizarre and begin to wonder if their ship was possessed or something, but Kent, totally lacking in sailing experience, found himself confined to his bed by seasickness at the violent rising and falling of the ship that speed created.

He was so sick that he couldn’t even keep water down, leading the fishermen to joke about how difficult he was finding the calmest seas they’d seen. But even as they laughed, they gave him plenty of their precious water, insisting he’d feel better if he at least washed the taste of vomit from his mouth.

Seeing how he struggled, Toma also made some medicine to ease his nausea and prepared some food that would be easy on his stomach. It had been so awful that if it hadn’t been for his help, Kent might have given up and just thrown himself into the sea.

By the third day, he started to adjust, and he was finally able to step out on deck and watch the sea go by. As he was enjoying the sensation of the wind blowing through his hair, he noticed someone stepping up beside him. Having grown so used to his presence, he didn’t need to look to know it was Toma.

“They say we’ll make it to port tomorrow. Even without any detours or diversions, they said this kind of speed is practically a miracle,” Kent murmured.

“Yeah. Thanks to this bit of luck, I’ve been able to make up for a lot of the time I lost previously. I couldn’t be more grateful,” Toma replied gently. Though he barely raised his voice, it strangely managed to carry over the sound of the wind with ease.

“Are all People of the Forest like you guys? You and Misha are both the same. Whenever you’re around, it always makes me relax,” Kent said without thinking, earning a chuckle from Toma.

“I’m happy to hear that, but no, we’re not all like this. There are some pretty intense people, and plenty of mean-spirited people in our village too. We’re just human, after all,” Toma replied, amused.

“Yeah. Sorry, that was weird of me to say, wasn’t it?” Kent couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed, propping his head up with an arm on the guard rail to hide the way his face was starting to flush.

“It’s a strange coincidence, isn’t it? One of our people far away had compassion for someone, and it came around to help me all the way up here. I wonder if people’s fates are always so connected.” Toma gently patted Kent on the head as he spoke.

He really is a lot like Misha, Kent thought as he nodded. “That means now we’re connected too, right?”

“I guess so. If that’s what you’d like.” Toma’s voice was low, quiet enough that no one else on the ship could pick it up over the wind.

But it was loud enough for Kent, who gave a small, relieved smile in response. “Yeah. I would like that.”

Chapter 14: War Against the Plague — Conclusion

After hearing Kent’s story of how the herbs made it to Redford, Misha was trapped somewhere between elation and guilt, not sure how to respond. She was quite happy to hear he had been willing to help someone just because they looked like her. Though she didn’t know anything about logistics, she could tell that without Kent’s and the fisherman’s help, it would have taken a lot longer for the herbs to make it to their destination.

But why did Kent himself have to follow the herbs on the ship? She had heard from plenty of people about how dangerous the seas were at this time of year. People constantly assured her that only seasoned veterans would be willing to brave the seas right now, so anyone who volunteered would be highly capable, but it only served to worsen Misha’s anxiety over his travel. They hadn’t actually encountered any storms on their journey south, but there was no way they could have known they would be that lucky.

In the same way, Misha was both thankful and apologetic to the fisherman who had made the delivery. He said he did so because Misha had saved his daughter, but Misha hadn’t really done anything back then. She had just happened to be in the right place at the right time. It had all been a string of lucky coincidences. Iris had returned to her family safe and sound, but that didn’t change that she had been in exceptional danger.

Kent laughed as he saw the conflicting emotions in Misha’s face as plain as day. “All I did was what I could, exactly like you did for me.”

“But...”

“If that’s how you feel, then smile! I’ll take a thank-you and some praise for working so hard! I’m gonna get sad if you look so down after everything I did to help,” Kent complained, puffing up his cheeks angrily as Misha continued to hesitate.

It was such a childish face that Misha couldn’t help but smile. She suddenly remembered how much Marianne, his grandmother, had apologized to her when Misha had felt she was only doing her job. She had more or less told them what Kent had just said to her now.

“I guess you’re right. I’m really glad you helped out. Now, we’ll be able to save a lot of people’s lives. Thank you so much, Kent.” Her feelings welled up from the bottom of her heart as she squeezed him in a big hug.

He was quite a bit larger than when she’d last seen him a few months before. That gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. She could tell he’d be taller than her in a few years.

Kent laughed happily as he returned the hug. Being the one to help her this time made him feel like he had grown up a bit.

“I’m gonna be a super rich merchant when I grow up, so I’ll be able to move cargo wherever you need it!”

Misha giggled. “Okay. I’ll be glad to have your help!” she said with a shy smile.

She was happy to hear it, but she never would have guessed that it was a promise he’d keep for their entire lives.

The herbs were immediately brought back to the capital and processed into medicine to be given out to the sick. At the same time, Misha and Nel together began trials of her experimental new medicine.

Its development was still surprisingly challenging. In order for patients to breathe it in, the medicine had to be ground as fine as physically possible. Misha and Nel started by making it into a pill form and then breaking it down further, but there was a limit to how well a mortar could grind down the pills. On top of that, the pills were extremely hard once they were dried out, making it rather intense work.

They began by using a large mill to grind down the pills, and then they transferred that to a hand mortar for the rest, but it took a huge amount of time to grind the pills to the ideal consistency. Plus, the slightest bit of unexpected movement would send their work puffing out as a cloud in all directions. If they so much as accidentally breathed on the stuff, it would fly away. An errant sneeze from Misha, brought on by inhaling the fine particles of medicine, destroyed an entire batch of medicine.

While Miranda tried to comfort the stunned Misha, Ryne and Nel, who happened to be nearby at the time, had laughed riotously. The other apothecaries came by to see what the commotion was, each of them giving sympathetic looks as they saw Misha covered in a fine layer of her own creation. Some even laughed at the sight, though not as hard as Nel and Ryne had.

A single tear trickled down Misha’s cheek. Lack of sleep and overwork had driven her to her breaking point. Day after day of failure to produce the kind of medicine she was looking for had gradually worn her down. She wanted to scream, and now one mistake had cost her a batch of medicine that could have saved multiple people’s lives. She felt frustrated, worthless, and utterly pathetic.

As she bit her lip and started to cry in silence, Nel and Ryne fell into a panic.

“Misha, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have laughed! Please don’t cry!” Nel immediately apologized.

“It’s okay, Misha. Calm down. It’s not a big deal. This kind of thing happens to everyone,” Ryne added in an attempt to calm her down.

Misha squeezed her eyes shut, turning away from both of them. She didn’t want to cry, but she couldn’t stop it now, and that left her feeling even more embarrassed and frustrated.

“...I hate this...” She sniffled.

The two men froze solid as they saw her starting to tremble.

Miranda heaved a heavy sigh. “You two are so mean. I’m going to have to ask you to give us some bucklerope.”

“I don’t know about that...” Nel frowned at Miranda’s request.

Bucklerope was one of the materials developed in secret by the People of the Forest. It was what they used to make the gloves that Nel had worn during the autopsy. The transparent, elastic gloves were made by covering their hands with a thin layer of bucklerope paste and letting it dry. It had only recently been developed, so naturally its method of production was still a closely guarded secret.

“Misha’s new medicine is still unrefined, but it holds a lot of potential. I have decided it is very much worth our time researching, so I will have to ask you two to help.” Miranda wore a bright smile as she spoke, but that smile didn’t so much as touch her eyes. It was clear that both of them enjoyed watching Misha trying so hard, but they had gotten far too carried away. Miranda was legitimately furious.

“You’re supposed to be an elder, Nel,” she continued. “You already agreed to fight the sickness here, so why are you playing around in the city like you’re on vacation? You should be helping.”

“I mean... I wasn’t playing around. I was surveying the environment and listening to the people...”

Miranda mercilessly cut down Nel’s pathetic attempt at excusing his selfish behavior. “You obviously could have waited to do that until we were approaching a conclusion to this crisis. Developing a new medicine is clearly the priority. Even Ryne is here, and he never helps anyone!”

“Wait, why does it seem like you’re standing up for me while also being angry at me?” Ryne asked, suddenly finding himself in the fire alongside Nel.

“Why wouldn’t I be angry with you?! You know exactly how to produce the fine consistency Misha is looking for. Maybe you’re trying to help her learn on her own, but you’ve clearly gone way too far in being hands-off! Do you plan on waiting until she collapses before you help her out?!”

“No, of course not...” Ryne mumbled, Miranda’s outburst leaving him at a rare loss for words.

“Anyway, it should be obvious that at this rate, we won’t be able to make medicine for all of our patients in time. If you aren’t going to let Misha or the people of Redford in on this new material, then you can handle taking care of all the sick people yourselves!”

After pointing an accusing finger at the two of them, she turned to Misha, who had stopped crying in surprise at Miranda’s outburst. Miranda started to gently push her out of the room.

“Let’s take a break somewhere else. Those two will handle the medicine itself, so let’s start thinking about how we’ll administer it. Making you do all the work when we have such a strict time limit is stupid in the first place.”

As Miranda was about to step out of the room, Nel called out to stop her. “Hold on, Miranda. Even if I gave you permission to use bucklerope, we don’t have any of it for you to use. If we sent for it now, it would take—”

“What are you talking about? I know you have plenty of gloves in your bag. You were so proud when you talked about them earlier.” Miranda gave a bright, cheerful smile. “I remember it being quite a problem that they’d melt under the heat of boiling water, making it quite difficult to disinfect them. But that just means we can melt them back down into liquid form easily, doesn’t it? And I’m sure someone as meticulous as you knows all about how to do that.”

Nel’s face fell. “Do you have any idea how much work it took to get those gloves...?” But Miranda showed him no mercy.

“You still have the hand models; you can make plenty more when you get back to the village. We can even send a bird back asking them to make more for you ahead of time, so get to melting. Okay, then. Misha, let’s go.”

Ryne patted Nel on the shoulder as the older man slumped. As she saw that from the corner of her eye as she left, Misha couldn’t help but admire how amazing Miranda was.

Shortly after, Nel and Ryne reappeared, having finished creating a large mortar with a thin, transparent lid. There was a hole in the middle of the lid for a pestle to slip through, but the lid fit tight around it and stretched and twisted as the pestle did, so it didn’t interfere with the actual work of grinding.

Once they were done grinding, they could wait a moment for the dust to settle, then remove the lid to see their work. Of course, the lid could be used more than once, so if they found it wasn’t ground fine enough yet, they could cover it again and keep working on it.

“There’s still some room for improvement, but this should do for now,” Nel explained with a sulk, but his attitude quickly brightened when Misha turned a look of awe up at him. “Impressive, right? Our plan was just to make a closed environment to do the grinding, but thanks to the elasticity of the bucklerope, we’ve got something close to an airtight seal.”

Nel’s bright smile as he happily explained his creation was immediately crushed by Miranda’s follow-up.

“Perfect. Now go make two more, please.”

And so it came to pass that Nel’s entire collection of precious gloves was melted down.

Meanwhile, Misha and Miranda worked to develop a device that could administer the medicine. How could they help people like the elderly or young children who didn’t have strong lungs to breathe in the powder?

They discussed a number of ideas, but ultimately the hint they needed came from a child’s flute. It was a simple toy, the stem of an aquatic plant cut to any random length and then hollowed out. Any child around the city would have one. They would punch holes in the stalk in varying spots, then cover those holes with their fingers to change the sound produced by the flute. The varying lengths and positions of the holes made each flute unique. Misha had once seen Yuu and the other kids playing with them.

They were small enough that even someone as young as Anna could make noise with it. And if she could blow air through it, she could obviously suck up air through one as well. Misha figured the powder would have no issues traveling up the stalk. Therefore, the plan was for people to stick the stalk into the vessel holding the medicine, then breathe in as hard as they could to suck up the medicine.

Discovering the best shape for the device took quite a bit of work. Misha found herself choking on powder throughout her experiments. Naturally, they were using a powder that was harmless even if inhaled for their experiments, but it was still rather unpleasant to choke on it.

Seeing Misha continuing with dogged determination despite the difficulties, the maids and families of the patients watching couldn’t bear to sit by doing nothing, and so they pitched in as well. They even stumbled upon a shape for the device that would allow people to safely breathe in the powder without having to practice first, which was a pleasant surprise.

When the first round of trials delivering the medicine to actual patients showed promise, everyone celebrated. As much as patients were still improving with the old medicine, watching loved ones recover and then decline in a repeating cycle was a painful experience for everyone. Each person involved in helping was proud to be a part of progress.

“Now that I think about it, I should have already seen the hints as to why trying a vapor had such bad results,” Misha murmured to herself as she worked her mortar.

“In what way?” Miranda asked, doing the same beside her. Now that the shipment of herbs had arrived, they spent every free moment making medicine.

“Yeah. Making the medicine to treat the Red Eye plague is a lot of work, right?”

The main ingredient of the medicine was a fernlike plant known as madleaf, found only in the untamed wilderness in the far north of Carmine. The madleaf they received had been delivered in a sun-dried form, as much moisture removed from them as possible. The way they were processed into medicine was pretty rare as far as Misha knew.

The first step was to cut the plant into two-centimeter-long sections before boiling them down, but that was only the beginning. The cut herbs needed to simmer for an hour, and they needed to remain entirely submerged throughout the process, requiring water to repeatedly be added to the pot.

The water had to turn a deep brown. (Misha was told to look for the color of an andie’s fur, but she didn’t actually know what that was. Apparently, it was a kind of field mouse common in the area.) Once it reached that color, the water needed to be boiled away. Keeping the right amount of heat from that point was a challenge. It was very easy to burn the herbs if you weren’t careful. Once the herbs had dried out enough to be crushed without any fluid coming out, the next step was to move the dried madleaf to a mortar and begin grinding. And once it had been ground down to the point of having no more visible fibers, then it was time to add the other ingredients, grind everything down further, and form the mixture into pills.

It wasn’t an especially difficult process—the people in the far north usually made it without bothering to use precise tools or measurements—but it was a time-consuming one. Besides the process of boiling them, the plant itself was tough and fibrous, making the grinding process a great deal of work.

Misha’s first thought was that it would be better to only use the softer leaves of the plant, but the people up north insisted vehemently that you needed to include the stalk and root as well for the medicine to be effective.

Since they had so much extra now, the apothecaries experimented making the medicine using each individual part of the plant. Sure enough, none of their tests produced any worthwhile effects, so they had no choice but to continue with the original laborious process.

Apparently the name of the plant had been derived from the fact it was such a pain to work with it that it drove the people working on it mad. Misha laughed at how silly the naming process had been, but Miranda shrugged, saying that’s just how naming things went.

The process was straightforward enough that not only the apothecaries and the doctors but also the apprentices and anyone with basic medical knowledge was able to pitch in and help, leading to a large room of people complaining about the soreness in their arms.

That said, not a single one of them gave up. Compared to the long days of helplessly watching people getting sick and dying, the sensation of their arms turning to jelly was downright pleasant. Even when they were too weak to hold their utensils properly at mealtimes, everyone who helped was unbothered.

Some of them even started to lean into that situation, enjoying it when maids were sent from the castle to help them eat, but those people were quickly chastised through kicks from their companions. Everyone’s legs were in perfect working order, after all.

“True enough. It’s pretty rare for an herb to require this much work,” Miranda said, agreeing with Misha’s point.

Herbs were often finicky, whether it was them needing to be carefully harvested, or drying in the shade over a great deal of time, or requiring very specialized environments to grow in. Nonetheless, it was almost unheard of for an herb to need this much processing to become medicine. It was certainly the first such herb Misha had ever encountered.

“But if it’s so important to have all parts of the plant to make the medicine, then it should have been obvious to me that taking the vapors from boiling it wouldn’t be enough,” Misha said.

The effect from breathing in the vapors had been minute at best. It had been much more effective to drink the resulting soup. But even that was only half as effective as the usual medicine, which meant the plant itself, discarded after the boiling process, was also important.

“In any case, we need every part of the plant for the medicine to work. That’s why it’s so effective when we grind it down into a powder and inhale it.”

Nel had been able to create three of his specialty mortars before he ran out of gloves to make them with. Grinding the medicine down to the point it could be inhaled properly took a great deal of time, and judging whether the fineness of the powder was acceptable enough wasn’t exactly easy either, so this process had been left to the People of the Forest.

Besides, they didn’t want to share the material used to make these specialized mortars with that many people. Even Misha was rarely called to participate, only doing so when there was no one else available.

As Misha glanced over at them, she heard them singing while they worked. They moved their pestles into their specialized mortars in rhythm with the gentle melody.

Misha listened for a while before suddenly blinking in surprise. “This song...”

“What about it?” Miranda asked.

“My mom used to hum this song when she was making medicine. When I asked her about it, she would just say, ‘Oh, was I humming?’ as if she didn’t want to admit it. But whenever she was focusing really hard, she’d start again...”

The words they sang here were in a language Misha didn’t know, but she definitely recognized the melody. It was the same tune her mother would hum on rainy days when they stayed inside and made medicine together.

The faint sound of rain, the sound of their tools grinding herbs, and her mother’s gentle humming had all blended together into a single harmony, but when Misha had asked about it, her mother had acted like she didn’t know what she was talking about. Misha had thought it was quite strange, but, wanting to hear the song, she’d stopped asking about it so that her mother would keep going.

“Really? If she was humming it without realizing it, maybe Ryne’s visits were weakening the hypnosis they placed on her.”

“Hypnosis?” Misha tilted her head in confusion.

“When someone leaves the village, they are forced to take on a number of limitations,” Miranda explained. “One of those is a kind of hypnosis placed on them using drugs. They’ll remember that they grew up in a small village in the north, but they’ll have no memory of what it was called or where it was. In the same way, they won’t be able to recall the secrets of the tribe.”

Misha gulped at the unexpectedly heavy answer. “So is that why I never heard about the People of the Forest from her?”

It hadn’t been until she left the forest that Misha realized how strange it was that her mother had never told her about where she grew up. She had never heard anything about her grandparents or about how her mother lived as a child.

“Probably. Apparently, they can remember some things, but it’s like it’s wrapped in a fog, so they can’t recall things clearly. For example, they’ll remember someone’s name, but not be able to put a face to it. If I had come across Leyas in town, she probably wouldn’t have recognized me if I didn’t call out to her first.” Miranda’s voice held a hint of sadness.

“Then why did she still recognize my uncle?” Misha asked, thinking back to Ryne’s regular visits. He had come by every few years since she was old enough to remember.

“If you call out to them and tell them your name, they can recognize you. It isn’t like the hypnosis erases their memories or anything. But once you leave them, they’ll probably have forgotten your face within an hour. Ryne kept visiting her over and over, even when she kept forgetting him. He would stay overnight, and when Leyas woke up in the morning and saw him, she’d have to ask who he was. Over and over, he explained he was her older brother.”

Miranda could only imagine how difficult a time that must have been for him. Even if he’d known it was caused by drugs, it had to hurt for your own family to see you as a stranger.

I certainly couldn’t have taken it, she thought.

But Ryne had. Over and over and over. Even if she forgot him after an hour, he’d come back to reintroduce himself.

“He said that when he introduced himself, she’d always laugh, saying something like, ‘Oh right, that is what you looked like!’ At the start, she was nearly reduced to tears, but after going through the same thing countless times, she started laughing instead. She would just joke, ‘Our people make really strong drugs, huh?’”

Miranda could only guess at how Ryne had felt during the arduous process of reintroducing himself to his own sister. Maybe it had been a harrowing time for him. Or maybe it had been all fun and games as he tried to figure out with what frequency he’d need to visit to break the effects of the drug.

In the end, his persistence had paid off, and she’d become able to remember him properly. It had worked to such a degree that Misha had never even known it had been a struggle for her.

“So that’s what they meant by ‘giving up everything’?”

It was much worse than Misha had first thought. She had assumed leaving meant they couldn’t go home or remain friends with any of the people from the village. The truth was that Leyas had actually given up her memories so that she could stay with Deenoark.

“This song has been passed down among the People of the Forest for a long time. It’s often used just to kill time while making medicine. It’s in the language of the People of the Forest, and it talks about the way we live, so it must have fallen under the scope of the hypnosis. Ryne’s repeated visits must have weakened the hypnosis to the point she started to hum it again without realizing it. Even though you heard her humming, she probably didn’t even realize she was doing it.”

Misha suddenly remembered something from her trip to Redford. “So, back in Dola, you said something about a kind of incense that could be used to hypnotize someone...”

Miranda’s eyes widened slightly in surprise before she broke into a smile. “I’m impressed you remember. Yes, it is said this drug was made by improving that incense.”

Misha didn’t understand the words they sang in their quiet, almost whispering tune. But if Leyas had hummed it whenever she made medicine, it must have been something important to her—so important that she’d hummed it unconsciously. It made Misha want to learn it herself.

“Could you teach me that song someday?”

Miranda hesitated for a moment. “Sure. Someday,” she said with a small smile, stroking Misha’s long hair.

Miranda thought back to when she and Leyas would sing the song together as they worked. When she was young, she’d assumed the two of them would always be together. Now she knew that future was impossible, but she could try and create a new future to take its place.

“Then we can sing it together,” Miranda added.

“Yeah!”

Misha got back to work, listening to the mysterious song. The sound of herbs being ground into medicine matched perfectly with the rhythm of the song, making it a song that saved lives.

However, for as many people as they were able to save, inevitably there were some they couldn’t. No matter how potent the medicine they crafted, it meant nothing if they couldn’t administer it. Because of the unique nature of the medicine, those who couldn’t breathe it in themselves—those who were comatose from the disease—couldn’t take it.

Similarly, there was no saving those in whom the parasite had reached the brain. Once the damage was done, there was nothing they could do to reverse it. The best the doctors and apothecaries could accomplish was giving them painkillers and sedatives to make their final moments more bearable. Many of the most sick quietly breathed their last, watched over by their families.

Misha watched from a short distance away as a coffin was lowered into the ground to the sound of funeral bells. Among all those gathered to mourn, the familiar sight of the youngest ones among them hurt Misha the most. They still cried, repeatedly calling the name of their deceased grandmother. It was heartbreaking to see—especially since Misha had been in that same position not long ago. She knew well how much it hurt to lose someone you love.

Clenching her hands tight, Misha stared at a small child, burning the image into her memory. Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered how hard she tried, but maybe, just maybe, if she had gone off to try and find the People of the Forest as soon as the Red Eye plague had resurfaced, if she hadn’t given up, this old woman could have been saved.

Only the gods knew the answer to that. Regardless, Misha vowed never to forget this sight. She knew it would hurt every time she remembered it. She knew it would serve as a reminder of her own inexperience, her own immaturity, and that the regret would torment her. But she also knew that if she were going to be an apothecary, this was a pain she couldn’t afford to forget. Even if it just looked like something she did just to satisfy her own conscience to everyone else.

The sound of the bells echoed up into a clear blue sky, free from clouds for the first time in a long time. The rainy season had finally come to an end, bringing the true heat of summer down on them.

This wasn’t the only person who had passed away. The priests were running nonstop dealing with all of the funerals, working hard to ensure those who had passed away would find their way to the next life without incident. Additionally, they wished to offer what small consolation they could to those that were left behind.

Misha closed her eyes, offering a small prayer of her own while the bells continued their endless ringing.

Chapter 15: Diverging Futures

The rooftop of the largest tower in the castle had been turned into something of a watchtower. Misha stared down at the city, able to see the entire capital of Redford in one sweeping glance. It was so tiny below; the buildings were practically all little toys. The rigid gridwork of streets looked like a game board, the people and carriages running up and down them no more than specks. Even so, there was a distinct energy to the way they moved through the city.

The rainy season had come to an end, and the mysterious plague that had assailed the capital had been gone for close to a month. The heat of summer hadn’t quite left the air, but the wind was starting to get cool in the mornings and evenings. A new season would soon be upon them.

What a strange feeling.

The lockdown in the capital had been lifted a few weeks prior, so the city had returned to its usual lively state. The markets she could see in the distance seemed to be back to their old, burgeoning selves.

There was no sign of the plague left. The nature of the disease had been discovered, and a cure had been acquired. The Red Eye plague was no longer a fatal condition.

That said, even those who were cured often had lingering damage in their bronchial tubes, lungs, and livers. They would likely be fighting those symptoms for the rest of their lives. Of course, considering how many had died of the disease, they could only be grateful they had at least been spared that fate. But as the days wore on and many found their bodies not quite as capable as they had once been, they would no doubt feel frustration mounting.

Misha had been working proactively to alleviate the future suffering those people would encounter. She had searched out medicine to help recover and strengthen the damaged organs of the victims, as well as medicine to suppress the inflammation of the bronchial tubes many of them suffered from, and had arranged for such medicines to be delivered regularly to them. She even went so far as to get involved, albeit in a rather minor way, in drafting a law to help draw money from the royal coffers to help reduce the financial burden on the victims. She had also worked to take measures to ensure the Red Eye plague never returned and was still deeply involved in the royal herb garden, leaving her with barely a moment to breathe in her daily life.

Luckily for her, once the People of the Forest had declared they would help, they were committed for the long haul. Toma, the man from the People of the Forest who had brought the herbs along with Kent, was actually a bit of an eccentric, having taken an interest in the disease before it made it to Redford.

He had apparently been involved in researching it as a rare disease that only appeared in the far north, attempting to understand and develop remedies for it. He had recognized that the symptoms of the Red Eye plague were very similar to the disease he was studying, and so he had spent a number of years trying to learn more. As he saw the similar weather patterns from this year matched those of the previous outbreak of the Red Eye plague in Redford, he had warned the elders of the People of the Forest that a new outbreak might be imminent.

Upon hearing that warning, one voraciously curious elder by the name of Nel immediately had gone running, determined to see it for himself. Toma had originally wanted to travel with him, but because he was the only one who had any contact with the people of the far north where the disease was originally found, Nel had ordered him to go harvest the herbs they would need to treat it instead.

“He just grabbed all of my research results and ran off by himself. I didn’t even have time to complain...but I guess he was right. I was the only one who had any contact with the people in the north. I just wish he had also sent someone to help me transport the herbs.”

Miranda patted him on the shoulder in sympathy as he grumbled, his eyes distant. Considering the expected number of victims in Redford, a single carriage full of dried herbs wouldn’t have been nearly enough.

Though madleaf was plentiful up north, he hadn’t been able to get a huge haul of the stuff in one go. Instead, he’d had to set up a network to deliver the herbs little by little as they were prepared, work that was very much beyond his expertise as a researcher. Even so, when he had finally made it to the capital, being able to see the results of his research and how it actually impacted the lives of the victims of the plague had been endlessly satisfying. On top of that, Redford had requested that he personally remain in the kingdom and direct their future research, so things had turned out better for him than he could have hoped.

Back in the village of the People of the Forest, it was difficult to focus on only your own research. On top of having limited funds to conduct such research, they also had to meet the quotas of the village in order to sustain their livelihood there. But the laws of the People of the Forest forbade them from seeking outside funding. He could always cut ties with his village, but that would mean giving up access to the vast knowledge and advanced tools they had developed.

Now, he had permission from the village to work for Redford, so he would be able to devote himself fully to his research without having to spend time or energy worrying about funds. As much as the village still put some limits on him, it was an enviable position for any researcher.

“The new respirative method for administering the medicine is certainly groundbreaking, but it is too difficult to give to unconscious patients that way, so I’d like to improve it further. I’d also like to develop a liquid form of the medicine. If we could inject it directly into the bloodstream, it should be even more effective. There is also the issue of the way the disease progresses. I’m curious why it has such a different impact on people compared to birds. It’s incredible that the parasite changed so much in such a short time, so there are plenty of things worth looking into.”

It was honestly scary how Toma smiled in fascination once he got started talking.

He looks calm and quiet on the outside, but maybe he’s actually pretty similar to Grandpa Nel. Or maybe all People of the Forest are like this? Misha thought, remembering how Ryne had left to wander the world so he could perfect his surgical skills. Either way, having a passionate researcher will be good for the kingdom. Mr. Toma looks happy too, so I guess it’s a win-win, she told herself as she watched Toma giddily start reorganizing the room that had been given to him.

He had been given a place connected to the royal herb garden so that he would have easier access to herbs for his research. There was no doubt Toma would teach others working there how to effectively cultivate herbs, as he would be sourcing them from the garden himself, so she could rest easy with regards to the garden’s future.

On top of that, Kent had made a contract with the kingdom to regularly import medicine. That included the medicine for the Red Eye plague, but it expanded far beyond that, hoping to ameliorate the capital’s issues with getting access to medicinal herbs. Misha had been stunned to hear from Ryne that Kent had made the deal himself, not backing down an inch while negotiating with Redford’s officials. It had apparently been quite the sight. That young boy had grown into a full-fledged merchant before she realized it.

The people of the capital were freed from the terror of their own impending deaths, and they slowly moved past mourning and back into the rhythm of daily life. Remembering her last meeting with Yuu, Teto, and Anna, who luckily had recovered without any permanent damage, a bitter smile rose to her face.

“Thanks for saving me!” Anna bowed her head in thanks, back to her usual energetic self. Yuu and Teto were right there with her, hand in hand, but they were clearly a little nervous.

Anna was the only one of the three children to have gotten sick, which had been traced back to their grandmother, Mary. Raw karas liver had been prized by the people of the capital for generations as an invigorating agent. When Mary had first grown sick, her husband had acquired some for her, as was tradition. But fearing for Anna, the youngest and weakest of their family, Mary had secretly shared half of it with her. Her grandmother had told her it would be their little secret, so Anna had dutifully kept her mouth shut. And so, without the family knowing, they had shared raw karas liver many times. Being that she was so young, the parasite had no difficulty flourishing inside her.

All because of one grandmother’s love for her granddaughter.

Their grandfather, after learning his attempts to help his wife had instead doomed her, had been crushed. Even if unwittingly, his attempts at saving the woman he loved were the very actions that had taken her life. It was horribly ironic. It was a common reaction among the families of those left behind.

We really should do more for people’s mental health, right?

No matter how healthy a person was, a wounded heart could lead to someone taking their own life. Many people had family and friends to support them during those difficult times, but for those who didn’t, an entirely new problem emerged. Many people appeared fine on the outside, but even after a great deal of time had passed, those memories could resurface to torment them all over again.

Misha was painfully aware of what that was like. Her own experience led to her heavily emphasizing the importance of caring for the hearts and minds of people. People had a tendency to take such invisible wounds lightly, but they could very easily fester and worsen before you knew it.

The way Yuu and Teto looked at her with awkward smiles brought those issues to the forefront of Misha’s mind. As young as they were, it was hard for them to understand what was going on in their own hearts. Why weren’t they able to talk with Misha as freely and openly as they once had? Their grandmother’s death hadn’t been Misha’s fault. The two boys understood that well enough even without anyone telling them. But deep inside, they were wrestling with anger over a simple fact: Misha was supposed to be an apothecary, but she hadn’t saved their grandmother.

Any outsider would point that out as unreasonable, and the two boys would never blame Misha for what had happened. But logic and emotions were two very different beasts. Their beloved grandmother had died. Their precious younger sister had been saved. Two people so important to them had met such vastly different fates. That reality tore them apart from the inside, and those chaotic emotions demanded an outlet.

They should have just gotten angry at me, Misha thought idly as she held her long hair down as the wind tried to pull it away from her.

But the two young boys had been brought up better than that. They couldn’t saddle Misha with that anger when they knew full well it wasn’t her fault. As a result, their intense emotions had nowhere to go, leaving them with no recourse but to smile awkwardly when they saw her. One might argue that was something resembling maturity, but...

“Oh, here you are.”

Misha was pulled from her erratically jumping train of thought by a voice calling to her from behind. She turned to find a familiar face approaching.

“Hello, Your Majesty.”

“Oh, there’s a nice breeze up here.” Ryan slowly stepped up beside her, grinning at the feel of the wind. Misha watched him for a time before smiling, turning forward again without a word.

Misha had been beyond busy for the past month, but her workload probably paled in comparison to his. Unlike Misha, who could focus all of her efforts on dealing with the aftermath of the Red Eye plague, Ryan had to handle all of that while still managing the everyday political affairs of the kingdom. In reality, even if it had happened in the capital, the fact that it was a disease localized to one city and it now had a cure meant it was a pretty minor incident in the grand scheme of things.

Even so, Misha couldn’t say anything after seeing the heavy dark circles still lingering under his eyes. She really wanted to say that if he had time to lounge around up here, he should have found something nutritious to eat and taken a nap. But when she thought of why he had taken a break from all of his hard work to come see her here, her chest got all fuzzy inside. She had no way to express that feeling in words, so she held her silence, the two of them looking out over the city together.

Ryan eventually broke the silence, his voice uncharacteristically soft, barely overcoming the sound of the wind between them. “When are you leaving?”

“Early tomorrow morning. I’ll be saying goodbye to everyone later today.” But as close as they were standing, Misha could hear him clearly.

“I see. I really wish I could make you stay. But I guess with the plague being cleared up, I can’t really do that, can I?”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Toma will be here,” Misha replied, neither of them looking up from the city below.

Tomorrow, the People of the Forest were going to leave the castle. Misha had decided to go with them back to their village.

The People of the Forest were never ones to lend a single kingdom their aid for long. The fact that so many of them had appeared to help with this crisis was a remarkable exception to the norm. Everyone knew that exception was entirely because of Misha’s presence. And they also understood how dangerous it was for Misha to remain there. Knowing that the People of the Forest would move based on Misha’s presence, there was no doubt greedy people would begin setting their sights on her.

However, Misha’s decision to go with them honestly had no such political motivation. The plague had taught her just how much she lacked. The best place in that world to acquire the knowledge and skills she needed to achieve her dream was willing to accept her as one of their own, if she so wished. It was a unique privilege that no other apothecary in the world could hope for. It was one final parting gift from her mother.

Of course, that didn’t mean it had been an easy decision to make. Although Redford had overcome the plague, there was still a mountain of work to be done in its aftermath. There was also the royal herb garden to think about, and Lady Lalaya too. There were so many kind and wonderful people she had met in Redford, and she would be moving even farther away from her father.

“I feel like I’m leaving a lot of things half finished here,” she said, apologetic.

Ryan smiled. “Well, like you said, Toma will help take care of the leftovers of the plague. And you’ve been working hard to make sure everything else works out, haven’t you?”

Even as busy as he was, Ryan had noticed the little apothecary darting about the castle, working just as hard as he was. She had always been running full tilt, never giving him the chance to so much as greet her in passing.

“So I’m sure it’ll all work out. Wanting to keep you here is...well, just me being selfish, I suppose,” he said.

Misha turned to him, confused by the hint of bitterness in his tone.

Seeing she didn’t understand what he meant, he just smiled. “Here, this is for you. I’m sure it’ll be helpful for you someday.” Ryan pulled a ring from his little finger and handed it to her.

It was a beautiful golden ring with a small blue stone on it. The otherwise simple ring had Ryan’s family crest engraved on the inside of its band, which would make it a powerful endorsement to not just anyone in Redford, but anyone among their allies as well. It was a symbol that she had Ryan—thus, the Kingdom of Redford—behind her.

Entirely oblivious to its significance, Misha accepted the gift as the simple, unadorned ring it appeared to be. Though it had been small enough to fit Ryan’s little finger, it was still a bit too big to fit comfortably on Misha’s middle finger, a clear show of the difference in size between them.

The thought made Ryan smile again as he slid the ring onto her finger. “Someday, when this ring fits you properly, I hope you come back to visit again,” Ryan murmured, rubbing at the spot now vacated by the ring he had given her.

“Of course. If you don’t mind, I’d love to come back again someday.” Misha nodded with a bright, innocent smile.

“Excuse me for interrupting, Lady Misha. Lady Lalaya would like to speak with you...” Seeing that Ryan had said his piece, one of Lalaya’s maids reluctantly interjected on their conversation.

“Oh, is it that time already? I’ll go right away.” They already had plans to meet up today. After politely bowing to Ryan, Misha followed the maid back into the castle.

After watching Misha go, Ryan was left alone on the rooftop, lifting his gaze to the sky.

“She didn’t understand my point at all, did she?” He chuckled.

There was meaning in that ring. Of course it had his family crest engraved on it, but there was meaning in the colors too. Gold and blue were the colors that represented Ryan himself. Beyond that, it was the ring his parents had given him when he was born, a physical representation of their wish that he grow up strong and healthy.

“I guess Bluheitz doesn’t have that custom.”

In Redford, the gift of a ring was a fairly common thing, and had a very particular meaning. Between people of the same sex, it was a sign of everlasting friendship. Between a man and a woman, though...

“All right, guess I have to get back to work.” After a long stretch, Ryan turned around and started back to his office.

Hi, Caro. How are you doing? I finally got a chance to sit down and write to you.

After you left, a terrible disease struck the capital. Messages went out to everyone who spent a long time in the capital about it so we could send them medicine if they needed it, so maybe you’ve already heard. Are you doing okay?

We were finally able to make some medicine to handle the situation here, but now I’m going to be leaving the capital. I’m going to my mother’s homeland to study so I can become an apothecary. I never would have guessed that was where I would end up, but this whole situation taught me how much more I need to learn. So I’m going to try my best to improve.

Have you decided what you want to be when you grow up? You’re smart and levelheaded, so I’m sure you can become anything you set your mind to. Let’s both do our best.

Anyway, you’ve probably guessed it’s going to be difficult from now on to exchange letters through the library. I had been really worried about it, but Lady Lalaya said she’d take a mail bird to the place you’re living now. I raised her ever since she was a little baby. Her name is Kyne. She’s really smart, so once you show her where your house is, she’ll definitely remember it.

This way I’ll be able to send letters directly to you, and Kyne can deliver your letters to me. For some reason, she can find me no matter where I go, so no need to worry about that.

I’ll be looking forward to your reply.

Reading through the letter on the very paper he had given her as a gift for a second time, Carolus sighed ever so slightly.

“You skipped over a lot, didn’t you, Misha? You can’t tell how hard it was from this letter at all.”

When he heard that the Red Eye plague had been found in the capital, Carolus had immediately tried to rush back to the city, but his attendants had come out in full force to stop him. At present, there were only three people left with royal blood. Two of them were already in the capital, so to secure the bloodline of Redford’s royal family, it was imperative he keep his distance.

Carolus knew that full well, but couldn’t stand the feeling of being safe and sound in hiding while the people he cared about were in danger. As a result, he’d turned his attention to what he could do, urging the owner of the land he lived on, the former prime minister of Redford, to help him secure aid for the capital. His efforts to help gave him quite a bit of insight into how difficult things were in the capital—and for Misha specifically.

If at all possible, he’d really wanted to send a ship up north to pick up the herbs they’d needed and bring them back quicker, but that ship would not have made it in time in all likelihood. The two sides would have probably just missed each other as they traveled. So instead, he’d worked hard to ensure that food and medicine never ran out.

Carolus had avoided appearing in public up until that point for fear of being targeted by political enemies, but deciding there was no point in having clout if he wasn’t going to use it in an emergency like this, he had been running around the entirety of Redford to secure supplies for the capital along with the former prime minister. His mother had naturally been opposed to the idea, but he had overruled her objections. His own father had given his life to protect the kingdom, so he couldn’t bear the shame he would feel if he sat idly by and did nothing.

The sudden appearance of the former king’s hidden son during a time of crisis had left a tremendous impact. When the people saw how much he resembled his father, their outpouring of support had been enormous. Borrowing the names of his father and his uncle to get things done had hurt Carolus’s own pride, but the people he wanted to save were much more important to him.

“I don’t know much about this country, or its people. But I want my family and my friends to be smiling.”

Even as the constant travel had worn Carolus down, he had continued to face the people with pride and dignity. The former prime minister had satisfied himself with quietly performing the role of his retainer.

“Okay, Kyne. This is my house. Make sure you remember it so you can deliver letters from Misha,” Carolus spoke seriously as he took the mail bird from his servant on the roof of his house, letting the bird perch on his arm.

The surprisingly heavy bird looked him straight in the eye, then tilted her head. Carolus couldn’t help but smile at the unexpectedly cute affectation.

“This is Caro’s house. Understand?” Carolus repeated slowly. Kyne’s beady eyes stared right back at him, then she gave her wings a single flap as if to answer him.

“Wow. It really does seem like you understand me. You must be really smart.”

After giving Kyne a final pet on the head, he swung his arm wide. Using the offered momentum, Kyne leaped up into the air and began to soar.

“Be careful!” Carolus shouted up at the mail bird as she flew a single loop around the estate, then glided off into the distance.

Carolus watched her go in silence, staring until she finally became too small to see.

“Wait, how am I supposed to send her letters in the meantime?” Carolus pouted as the bird vanished from sight.

Granted, it wasn’t like he had any other way of contacting her while she traveled. He had asked about the mail birds they kept at his own place, but was told that normally they were only able to fly between a number of predetermined locations. The fact that Kyne could track people down while they were traveling just showed how remarkable of a bird she was.

“Oh well. I’ll just have to grow up as much as I can by the time Kyne comes back.” Carolus gave a big stretch before turning, heading back to the room where his tutor waited.

Though he hadn’t realized it, it had been almost the same exact pose his uncle had made.

The People of the Forest left before the sun climbed over the horizon. With Misha having said all of her goodbyes the day before, the castle was still quiet when she left. In an effort to prevent it from becoming a huge event, they left almost as if they were sneaking out, as the People of the Forest often did.

Despite their considerable pace, they were almost silent as they walked, the castle quickly shrinking behind them. Many people of Redford who weren’t able to see them off at the gate watched from windows, but Misha was too excited at the prospects of her next adventure to notice them. In her place, Ryne waved at them with a wry grin from his spot at the back of their procession.

Upon hearing they intended to go back to their village, Ryan had offered to send an escort with them as far as the border of Redford, but Nel had declined. While the king might not have had any ulterior motives, there was no shortage of selfish fools in the world. Nel had decided it was better to be safe than sorry. That sense of caution was what had preserved the tiny tribe known as the People of the Forest for all this time.

For the same reason, Misha had been told the others would be returning by ship, but they were scattering and returning home by all different means. This deception was a sign that while they acknowledged Misha’s existence, they hadn’t accepted her as one of their own yet. That acceptance would be determined during their journey back to the village and in the days that followed.

Besides, even Nel couldn’t say how many of their group were actually planning on returning to the village. Their love for the tribe was matched only by their love for freedom. That’s who the People of the Forest were.

“Okay then, time to head home,” Nel murmured just as the sun peeked over the horizon.

Chapter 16: A New Beginning

“Hey, mister, how much are these apples?”

Sitting on a small mat where he had arrayed a number of fruits and vegetables he had for sale, the man looked up as someone called out to him. A young girl had suddenly appeared to sit in front of him. She wore a long, soft-brown robe that covered her from head to toe and a large bag on her back. She also held a staff that was far too large for her. On the end of her staff hung an old-fashioned lantern, though it wasn’t lit at the moment. She must have been a traveler.

Bright green eyes peered out from the shadow of her hood, together with a friendly smile.

“You alone, little girl?” the man asked, somewhat disconcerted by the way she stared directly at him. She seemed far too young to be out traveling the highways alone.

Honestly, among all the people that came to this market nestled beside the highway, it wasn’t common for kids her age to be traveling alone, but it wasn’t unheard of. Normally he wouldn’t bother to involve himself, but there was something about this girl that made him want to help.

But the girl shook her head, pointing behind her. “No, I’m with my uncle. He’s shopping over there.”

Looking through the crowd, he saw she was pointing at a man wearing a heavy black robe. He was at a stall selling preserved foods and seasonings, so was likely restocking on food for their journey.

That discovery was enough to help the man finally relax into a smile. Being as stern-faced as he was, he was often told his smiles made him look like a bandit about to rob someone, but the girl didn’t seem bothered by it as she looked over the various fruits.

“I’d like one of those oranges too. These last a few days, right?”

“An apple and an orange, then? You’re my first customer today, so here, have a wood peach on me too.”

After placing her chosen fruit into her bag, he accepted her money and then handed over a wood peach that was too ripe to sell.

“Thanks!” The girl gave a bright smile as she stared at the fruit, the size of her own hand, before taking a big bite. Judging by the way she danced a bit on the spot, he figured she quite liked it. The man couldn’t help but smile at her adorable reaction. Though even this more natural smile still was more reminiscent of a mountain bandit than a merchant.

“Misha, I told you to wait quietly for me.” A man stepped up behind her as she indulged in the fruit. It seemed her guardian had finished his shopping.

“I was still where you could see me,” she protested the newcomer’s scolding, spinning around as he poked her in the back of the head.

“Sorry she bothered you,” he said next to the man, ruffling the girl’s hair. He had the same beautiful green eyes she did.

“Oh, she wasn’t a bother at all. She’s actually been a great advertisement.” The grocer shook his head with a shrug.

As he said, while his fruits and vegetables hadn’t been getting any attention before, there were now many people lining up to check what he had to offer. Seeing how delighted the girl was when eating one of his fruits, the others passing by had to wonder if they were really as good as she made them seem. A steady stream of people were now buying fruit, indulging in the taste as they went on their way.

“Uncle Ryne, that hurts!” The girl finally broke away from her uncle’s grip. The sudden motion pulled back her hood, revealing a head of beautiful long golden hair. The color was pale enough that depending on the angle of the morning light, it sometimes came across as silver. For a moment, the vendor felt like he could see a rainbow in the light filtering through it.

“Wow, what beautiful hair,” he let slip, getting a shy giggle from her.

“Thank you. And thanks again for the fruit, mister. Bye!” The girl pulled her hood back up before giving him a small wave, her uncle leading her away.

Or so he thought. But then the young man said something that made her dash back.

“Hey mister, your stomach hurts, right? If you don’t do anything about it, it’ll just get worse, so here! As thanks for the peach, you can have this.” She handed him a small paper bundle.

“Pills?” he asked, looking inside.

“Yeah. My uncle’s an apothecary. The stuff he makes is really good!” As the man stared in surprise at the bundle in his hands, the girl waved again and ran back to her uncle. “Make sure you take two with every meal until you run out!” she shouted as she caught up before she walked away for real.

The grocer watched the odd pair until they disappeared into the crowd.

“You’re a lucky guy, you know. That apothecary is really good. I was at the same inn as him last night, and I heard the innkeeper thanking him for how much his medicine helped her,” the next customer in line said, bringing the man’s attention back to the bundle in his hands.

Their town had an apothecary of its own, but medicine was quite expensive, so people paid a visit only when things got really bad. It was true he had been dealing with a bit of stomach pain recently, but it was still tolerable, so he had decided to wait and see if it would get better on its own. The peach he had given the girl was something he had brought along for his own lunch, thinking it would be something gentle on his stomach.

“A peach I wouldn’t even be able to sell turned into medicine,” he muttered, slipping the bundle of pills carefully into his pocket.

What was it dad always used to say? “Be nice to people. It’ll help you out in the future.” I laughed when I was a kid, not knowing what he meant...

He decided today would be a good day to pass that lesson on to his own son together with the story of how he got this medicine, and he turned his attention back to his business.

“Do you think he’ll actually take the medicine?” Misha asked, pulling an apple out of her bag and handing it to Ryne.

“Who knows? It looked to me like his gastritis was pretty bad, so I imagine he will,” he replied offhandedly before biting into the apple.

“Oh. Okay,” Misha said, pulling out her own snack, but after thinking for a moment, she slipped it back into the bag. She still had the lingering flavor of that peach on her tongue and wanted to savor it for a bit longer.

When they had been passing through the market yesterday, Misha couldn’t help but take notice of the man. His complexion had been really bad, and he’d looked totally worn out. He’d even held his hands over his stomach, probably without realizing it. It wasn’t a stretch to guess there was something wrong in his gut. The way he’d winced from time to time made it seem like he was in fairly bad shape.

As she’d been thinking this, a young boy on some errand or other tripped and fell right in front of him. Misha had yelped in surprise, but just as the boy seemed ready to burst into tears, the man had leaped to his feet and moved to help. Despite the pain he must have been feeling, it didn’t slow him down in the least. His stern face softened a little as he tried to console the boy, gathering up his now scattered belongings. As the boy started to calm down, the man said something Misha couldn’t quite catch while he put a small orange in the boy’s hands. Most likely he’d said something like “Good boy” or “You’re a tough kid” to praise him for fighting back the tears. The boy wiped those tears from his face, giving the man a nod and a smile before walking off. It was a truly heartwarming scene.

Or it would have been, if it hadn’t been followed by the man returning to his shop and crumpling in agony.

The sudden movement must have taken his stomach by surprise, and he was already in pain just from standing. He can’t be feeling well.

The man sat holding his gut for a long while, finally lifting his head once the pain subsided. There was a hollowness in his expression as he continued to man his shop. Then suddenly realizing Ryne had left her behind, Misha had run to catch up with him, thinking of what she could do to alleviate the shopkeeper’s suffering. While they had been out shopping today, she had come up with a plan.

As she enjoyed the lingering taste of the peach, she recalled the man’s smile. He probably was having difficulty eating properly. When she was speaking to him, she’d noticed his cheeks looked a little sunken, and he had distinctly bad breath. Both served to enhance his less than inviting appearance, making him look every bit like some kind of bandit, but she’d been able to tell how kind of a person he was from the way his eyes twinkled when he smiled. She hadn’t been scared of him in the least. The boy from the day before had probably felt the same way.

“I hope he feels better,” Misha said, humming as she kept pace with Ryne.

“For someone in his state, he’ll be fine as long as he takes the medicine and doesn’t overexert himself. It’s my personal recipe, after all,” Ryne declared smugly, tossing the core of his now finished apple into the brush by the road. “Okay. If we don’t want to sleep outside tonight, we’ll have to pick up the pace. The next city is on the other side of this mountain.”

“Okay!” Misha replied energetically as the two of them started a brisk walk up the mountain road.

The journey back to the village of the People of the Forest was going to be a surprisingly relaxed affair.

After leaving the castle, Miranda was the first to break off from their group.

“It seems like there’s some trouble out west, so I’ll have to take my leave here,” she said with a casual wave, but Misha grabbed her as she tried to leave.

“What do you mean, trouble? Are you not going to the village with us?” Misha had assumed they’d all be traveling together, so she was quite shocked by the news.

“My job is to take care of our people as they travel around the world, remember? Someone has called for me, so I have to go,” Miranda answered the devastated Misha with a troubled smile. “Besides, you’ve got Ryne now. You don’t need me anymore, right?”

“That’s...true, but...” Misha’s shoulders slumped. Ever since they had met by pure coincidence, Miranda had done everything she could to help Misha. Seeing her suddenly leave was heartbreaking.

Ryne gave Misha’s head a rough poke. “Oh, don’t be a baby. It’s not like you’ll never see her again. She’ll swing by the village again soon enough.”

“Really?” Misha said, turning hopeful eyes up at Miranda once more.

Miranda couldn’t help but smile at the teary expression in her eyes. “Of course. Unlike somebody here, I return to the village once a year to make my usual report. We’ll see each other again soon,” she said, giving Misha a gentle pat on the head, and Misha finally let Miranda’s hand go. “Oh right, I almost forgot. This is for you.”

Miranda then pulled a decorative ribbon out from a hidden pocket in her robe, tying it to Misha’s staff. It was a brilliant combination of green and blue, all the more vivid next to the faded colors of the old ribbons.

Miranda gave a satisfied nod. “This is a good luck charm for you. So that you’ll definitely find happiness.”

“Thanks. See you again soon!”

Giving Misha a kiss on the forehead, Miranda went on her way.

People continued to leave their group one or two at a time. Before Misha realized it, half of them were gone. That was when she finally asked Ryne what was actually going on.

In order to avoid drawing attention to themselves, they were traveling alone or in pairs instead of taking a ship like she had been originally told. In the end, the only ones actually going back to the village were her, Ryne, and Nel.

“They were all people that just happened to be in the area that we called in because it was an emergency. They’ll either go back to where they were before or go back to wandering again.”

Misha was shocked by the revelation. She had thought they had all come from the village to help.

“There are that many People of the Forest wandering around the world?”

“Yeah, quite a few. There’s only so much research and experimentation you can do in the village itself. Besides, no matter what medicine or therapy you develop, it’s all pointless if there aren’t any people around that need treatment.”

Misha was surprised to learn the People of the Forest were so active. “I thought I would have heard more rumors about them,” she said.

“Well, obviously they don’t go around telling everyone who they are. That would just be asking for trouble.”

“I guess so...” Misha mumbled. Something about that answer just didn’t sit right with her.

Seeing her displeasure, Ryne laughed. “Traveling apothecaries aren’t all that rare. The only thing that sets us apart is our hair, our eyes, and our skills. There aren’t that many people willing to try and hurt someone who just helped them either,” he said, patting her on the head.

The last surprise was to come when their group had shrunk down to Misha, Ryne, and Nel.

“Hey there, Misha. Long time no see!” She came across Shydein, standing beside a covered wagon on the road.

“What?! Why are you here, Shydein?!”

Shydein grinned as he saw Misha’s shock, like a child watching his prank succeed. “Come on, you’re the one who introduced me to them. Apparently there’s someone back at the village researching prosthetics, so they’re going to hook me up.”

“Honestly, I don’t know how he did it,” Nel grumbled. “Every time I stepped outside, he was on me like glue. He eventually wore me down. But even with one arm, he seems like he can be useful. He’ll serve as a good bodyguard for the trip back to the village.”

As the plague was starting to wind down, Misha had in fact introduced Shydein to the People of the Forest. Shydein had insisted he would take things from there, so with how busy Misha was at the time, she had no idea how their talks had gone. She didn’t realize he had come back to pester Nel so many times.

“If anyone knew you were bringing an outsider back to the village, there would be a horde of people trying to tag along, so we decided to meet up on the road instead,” Shydein explained happily, ignoring Nel’s scowl.

“Yeah, I could imagine Mr. Conan making a huge deal out of it...” Misha said, thinking back on all the doctors and apothecaries she had grown close to in Redford.

“No kidding. This guy on his own is annoying enough as it is,” Nel said, scowl deepening. Any time he’d shown up in the castle, Conan and the other doctors had started hounding him. From discussions about the future of medicine to asking about rumors surrounding the People of the Forest, the old man had been subjected to a deluge of questions. It was no wonder he had grown so tired of them.

“I was told to wait here with a carriage for you guys, since walking all that way would be a pain, but I have to admit I was a bit worried you might change your mind and take a different route,” Shydein said with a laugh.

“Our word is our bond. Honestly, what I actually regret is setting our meeting place here, instead of a city closer to the capital. These old bones aren’t up to the kind of pace these youngsters forced on me...” Nel continued to grumble as he climbed into the carriage. “Be safe on your journey, Misha. Come on, man, get the carriage moving already!” With a quick wave, Nel was gone from her sight.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming. Awfully impatient for an old guy, don’t you think? See you around, Misha. I’ll be waiting for you at the village!” Shydein said, hastily scrambling up into the driver’s seat and deftly setting the horses into motion with his one hand. Misha stared after them, head tilted in confusion.

“Do all People of the Forest treat goodbyes so casually?” she asked. Even Miranda had tried to leave as if they were seeing each other the next day.

“Who knows? Maybe it’s just because we’re all so used to traveling.” Ryne shrugged with a laugh. “So anyway, we’ll be taking our time walking back.”

“Huh? Aren’t we in a hurry?” Everyone else had their own things to worry about, but she had assumed that the two of them would be taking the quickest route back possible.

“Once we get back to the village, the laws of the tribe will mean that you won’t be allowed to leave for years. So I figured we should take what time we have to let you see the world a bit first.” Ryne grinned, full of mischief.

Misha smiled back at him. “Yeah. Traveling with you is going to be fun!”

So began their leisurely journey back to the village of the People of the Forest.

Side Story: A Fun Tea Party

“Now that you mention it...” Misha turned to look at Geord sitting across from her as she took a sip of tea. “When we first met, you said one of the People of the Forest saved you, right? What exactly happened?”

The medicine had arrived, and the Red Eye plague had started to recede. Now, Misha’s main concern was lingering symptoms of the disease. On one particular day, while she was running about trying to make plans to handle them, Misha found time for a small breather with Geord and Miranda, and so she sat down for some tea with them.

“Oh? This sounds interesting,” Miranda said, partaking in some tea cakes.

“It’s not that big of a deal. Back when I was a mercenary, I was badly wounded in battle, and one of the People of the Forest treated me. Didn’t I already tell you this story, Misha?” Geord asked, stuffing a cake into his own mouth as well.

“Nope, I’ve never heard it. What was your injury like?”

“I was cut up all over, and my arm was practically sliced off,” Geord said, rolling up his sleeve.

Misha happily scooted around the table to inspect his arm. “The scar is mostly gone, huh?” A scar ran in a clean, straight line around his arm, five centimeters below his elbow.

“Probably because it was almost ten years ago,” Geord said. Judging by his expression, Geord found the sensation of Misha tracing the scar with her fingers to be a bit ticklish.

“Hmm. It looks like it really was severed at one point. Can you move your fingers for me?” Nel popped into the room, inserting himself into the conversation.

Geord did as requested, and the old man stared. Though this kind of reaction was common enough, there was something different about the way Nel looked at him that made Geord uncomfortable. Most people wouldn’t believe that an arm once severed could be reconnected. Whenever he brought up this story, people usually thought of him as just a liar. But the People of the Forest, Misha included, would instead ponder how such a thing had been accomplished, not whether Geord was telling the truth.

“Ten years ago, was it?” Nel murmured to himself. He was putting Geord’s arm through a series of tests, such as rolling his wrist and clenching his fingers. “We confirmed that a limb could be reattached without losing function about four years ago. It seems the one who discovered this technique might have used you as an experiment.”

“You can do that?” Misha’s eyes went wide, remembering Shydein, who had lost his arm on the battlefield. “If more people knew how, then maybe Shydein wouldn’t have lost his arm.”

“Shydein, huh? His arm seemed to have been severed fairly cleanly. If he had received the treatment immediately, he might still have retained as much function as Geord here,” Nel replied, holding Geord’s arm in his hands and inspecting it from a few different angles. “Then I wouldn’t be forced to deal with him like I am now. We really need to spread this technique as fast as possible...” he muttered, displeasure evident on his face.

Misha had introduced the two, saying that Shydein was one of her father’s knights, and ever since then, the ex-captain had popped up to harass Nel any time he stepped a foot out the door. Shydein was remarkably well-informed. If he was from Bluheitz like Misha said, he was impressively well-connected for a foreigner. His help had made Nel’s efforts toward gathering information go remarkably smoothly, but that unfortunately made ignoring Shydein’s request much harder.

Apparently he was looking for a prosthetic that could function reasonably well as a replacement arm. Consequently, he was hoping Nel would introduce him to someone who could accomplish that.

Miles said he was looking for a robust specimen to work on, so I shouldn’t have a problem with bringing him back...

But seeing how bright and energetic Shydein was as he interacted with the locals, Nel didn’t think the man needed the help in the least, so he hesitated to accept Shydein’s request.

Meanwhile, Geord’s eyes lit up. “Do you have techniques for replacing arms like that?”

Geord was originally a mercenary who had, by pure chance, caught Ryan’s interest in battle and so been hired as his personal guard. Naturally, Geord had experienced countless battles himself. Lucky for Ryan, Geord had been spared the fate of losing his arm, but he had plenty of friends who hadn’t been so lucky.

“Oh, is that of interest to you?” Nel had taken Misha’s curiosity for granted, but Geord’s attention came as a bit more of a surprise.

“As I’m sure you are aware, there are many soldiers who lose limbs on the battlefield. If there’s a technique to reconnect them, many of them could live normal lives again, like I have.”

Nel shrugged. “I suppose so. For now, our priority is raising the average skill of doctors in general. There are too many who don’t understand the makeup of the human body. Even in a kingdom as large as Redford, there are doctors who have never inspected a cadaver. It’s mind-boggling.” Apparently having had his fill of inspecting Geord’s arm, Nel released it and took a seat. “But if you’re really that interested, you should talk to Ryne about it,” he said offhandedly as he asked a nearby maid to get him some tea.

Misha tilted her head. “Uncle Ryne?”

“That’s right. He’s the one who perfected the technique in the first place.”

“What?!” Misha shouted in surprise, but Nel had already moved on, focused entirely on the sweets on the table.

Seeing he had lost interest in the discussion, Misha instead turned to Miranda. “Did you know that, Miranda?”

The anticipation in Misha’s eyes brought a pained smile to Miranda’s face. “Yes, I suppose. I’d heard stories of it, but I’m afraid I don’t know the details. Ryne has always had an interest in the human body. When he was little, he played with anatomical models as if they were toys. The moment he was recognized as a young adult, he bolted out of the village. He was probably already looking into methods of stitching and suturing that didn’t leave damaging side effects back then.”

In the same way Miranda and Leyas had played with medicinal herbs, Ryne had played with models of the human body. He had shown a talent for hunting when the adults had brought him along, but after some time, they’d discovered he had only been tagging along for the experience in dissecting and butchering the animals. Back then, the girls had just been happy he was sharing meat with them.

Leyas was complaining about Ryne practicing his stitching on their preserved meats before he was even ten... Miranda recalled.

As Misha bubbled in excitement over how incredible her uncle was, Miranda started to hesitate over how much she should actually share about him. But before she could make a decision either way, a hand reached over her shoulder to take a sandwich from the table.

“Wow, you guys sure seem to be living it up. I’ve been dragged through so many meetings, I haven’t even had time to eat,” the man in question grumbled, dropping into a seat beside Miranda.

As a punishment for going to see Leyas and Misha in secret, Miranda had left all the negotiating with Redford’s officials to Ryne. When Nel had also run away from the responsibility, Ryne had been left as the sole connection point between Redford and the People of the Forest. He was easily the busiest of all of them. He was a skilled and adaptable man, so he had no problems dealing with the responsibility they had shoved in his lap, but the unfamiliar work was enough to stress him out, leaving him in a rather poor mood recently.

Yet Miranda pretended not to notice, forcing him to keep up the work entirely on his own. They had been close friends since childhood. She was more than used to his bad days. His temper didn’t scare her in the least. He had been foulmouthed from the start, so that was no change, and she knew full well that he wasn’t the kind of man to lash out violently just because he was upset. From Miranda’s perspective, there was nothing to be afraid of.

Despite all that, Miranda did feel a little guilty seeing the stress he was under, and so decided a good helping of his niece’s attention was just what he needed. “We were just talking about you, Ryne. It seems like the person who treated this man’s arm used your technique to do so.”

“Oh, really?” was all he said as he slumped lazily back in his chair. A maid placed some tea—warm, not hot, as his sensitive tongue required—in front of him.

“Apparently his arm almost got cut off about ten years ago, and someone reconnected it for him. Do you remember doing it?” Misha asked, evidently quite invested in the story.

Giving her a quick glance, Ryne shrugged. “Not really. I’ve been to lots of places, so I’ve treated a lot of people.” But Misha’s passion finally got through to him, so he sat up straight and beckoned Geord over. “Here, can I take a look?”

Geord got up without hesitation, showing off his arm to yet another stranger. Despite his rough manner of speech, Ryne’s hands were quite gentle as he inspected Geord’s arm. He went through the same procedure as Nel, asking Geord to do all sorts of tests with his arm and hand, before giving a thorough inspection of the scar line.

“Oh, yeah, this is definitely my work. But damn, the scarring is terrible. The skin here is still so stiff,” Ryne muttered to himself before staring hard at Geord’s face. “Nah, sorry. Still don’t remember you one bit. But hey, looks like you’ve made quite the life for yourself since we last met. Good for you.”

As Ryne smiled at him, Geord responded by biting at his lip, as if struggling to contain something. He then pulled his arm back, taking Ryne’s hand and dropping to his knees, bowing so his head touched Ryne’s hands.

“Because you saved me... Because you saved my arm, I’ve been able to protect so many people that are important to me. Thank you.” With the way he bowed his head, it was impossible to see his face, but no one had any trouble gauging how he felt from the tremble in his voice.

“Sure,” Ryne said quietly, giving only a small nod to avoid ruining the moment. Geord didn’t move for a long while, keeping his forehead pressed to Ryne’s hands.

Misha gulped, entranced by the scene. After so long, Geord had finally been able to express his gratitude. Misha felt there was something remarkably precious in those words.

For a while, the room was quiet, but the one to finally break the silence was Ryne himself. “So, should I fix that arm for you?” Ryne grinned, pulling his hand out of Geord’s grip.

“Fix it...?” Geord looked up in confusion, not understanding what Ryne meant.

“Yeah. If you overdo it with your arm, your fingers start to go numb and you lose grip strength, right?”

“Uh...” Geord was stunned. He had kept those side effects hidden from everyone, but Ryne had pinpointed them so precisely.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. There was a lot I didn’t know ten years ago. I thought I was missing some of the important nerves when I was reconnecting them. I could do a better job for you now, if you like.”

Sensing something ominous in Ryne’s grin, Geord retreated a bit, still on his knees.

“So you mean...you’d cut it off again?” Misha asked.

“Yeah, that’s the fastest way. Luckily we have Old Man Nel and the others here, so there’s no shortage of help. We’ve got plenty of anesthetics and painkillers too. I won’t be able to stay for your rehabilitation, but Toma will be around, so he’ll take care of you,” Ryne replied brightly, as if he were discussing a walk in the garden. All the while, Geord continued scurrying backward, hiding his arm from sight.

“Oh, that sounds like a great idea. I’ve never had the chance to see it done in person,” Nel said, appearing behind Geord to put his hands on the poor guard’s shoulders and hold him in place. Geord jumped from the sudden contact.

“Would you mind if I watched too?” Misha raised her hand hesitantly, knowing full well that they might not want to share one of their secrets with her yet.

“Wait, wait, wait! Hold on a second. My arm is perfectly fine! Why are we so set on cutting it off again?!” Geord began to protest. He knew if he didn’t say anything, something terrible was about to happen to him.

“If you’ve got lingering side effects, we should fix them, right? I don’t have a strong memory of it, but it’s my work, so I should take responsibility. In fact, while I’m in there, why don’t I reinforce the bone so it’s harder to break?”

Ryne’s surprise at Geord’s protest made it clear he wasn’t acting maliciously and was in fact trying to be generous, but Geord nevertheless wanted to shout back, “That’s not the problem!” That said, he did owe this man his life. It was difficult to just refuse him outright, so...

“Oh, looks like it’s time for my meeting with Ryan. Have a nice break, everyone,” he declared in a perfect monotone, slipping out from Nel’s grasp and dashing out of the room.

“Wait! Geord!” Misha evidently wanted to say something more, but Geord had no interest in hearing her out. Once he was caught up in her curiosity, he had no confidence he could shake her off. And he had no desire to be their experiment.

Sorry, my arm is perfectly fine how it is. You’ll have to hold on to that curiosity until you see someone who really needs the help! he thought, racing down the halls as fast as he could without outright running.

“Aw, he left.” Misha returned, having run to the door to try and stop him.

Miranda sighed. “I know you’re not used to being thanked like that, but you didn’t have to scare the poor guy.”

Ryne just shrugged with a smile. “I wasn’t really joking. If he can’t properly grip his weapon because of exhaustion, that’s a real issue for a knight. If he gets involved in a protracted battle, it could cost him his life. Things are peaceful right now, so taking three to six months off to rest should be perfectly fine, right?”

Miranda’s eyes widened at the unexpectedly serious response. “I thought you just wanted to show off your skills to Misha.”

“Well, there’s that too. Seeing someone’s arm cut off and reconnected would be a good experience for her, right?”

“Uncle Ryne...” As much as Misha had been excited at the prospect, she didn’t want to push Geord into something he didn’t want, so hearing that Ryne had been serious about it was a bit alarming.

“But fine. He’s allowed to decline if he doesn’t want the treatment.” Ryne laughed before draining his tea and asking for a refill.

Afterword

Newcomers and old faces alike, thank you for reading. I cannot begin to express my gratitude at having made it to publishing volume 3. This volume marks a major turning point in the story, so I am really glad we made it this far.

“Wow. You’re as stiff and formal as they said, huh?”

Gah?! Is this a repeat of the nightmare from volume 2?! Who are you?!

“A nightmare? How rude. I’m everyone’s beloved princess, Lalaya. Nice to meet you.”

Oh wow, you’re the last person I would have expected. I thought you were that self-proclaimed angelic little devil again.

“Oh, he wasn’t able to make it. Now that he’s taken an actual interest in succession, the former prime minister won’t let Carolus out of his sight.”

Hooray! Serves him right. I hope he grows up well.

“I agree. He’s been quite the scoundrel lately, so you have my sympathies. He gave me a message for you, by the way. ‘Make sure you write more scenes for me!’ There, I’ve done my job.”

Uh...okay. So, what is someone as busy as the king’s own sister doing here?

“I am the sister of the king, a princess who loves and is loved by the people. Therefore, I have come to put the wondering hearts of the people at ease. However, I am busy, so let’s speed through these.”

Question 1: Where did Misha go?

Wow, right to the point, huh? She’s gone on a journey back to the village of the People of the Forest with her uncle. She’ll meet all sorts of people on her way. Expect the fantasy aspects of the story to start growing stronger. It will all be a good experience for her as an apothecary.

Question 2: Isn’t calling people as skilled as the People of the Forest “apothecaries” underselling them?

Well, they began as apothecaries, and so they continue to call themselves that, but in truth they are a group of various medical experts. Long ago, there wasn’t much difference between a doctor and an apothecary. There was even a time when barbers would serve as surgeons. They follow a similar line of reasoning.

Question 3: Will we ever return to Redford?

Uh...that is definitely going to be a spoiler if I give any details, so I’ll just say, “Yes” and leave it at that.

Question 4: The title of the series is The Tiny Witch from the Deep Woods, but...

Wait, stop! We can’t keep going! We don’t have the space for any more questions! I’m sure all of your concerns will be answered as the story continues, so I’d be happy if you come along to cheer Misha on in her adventure!

I would like to offer my sincere thanks to Mr. Yoh Hihara for all of the wonderful illustrations he produced for this volume. They’ve become an indispensable source of motivation for my writing. I look forward to what you have for us in the next volume.

Thank you to my supervisor for all the ideas you gave me for short stories. I’m sorry for being so unreasonable. You’ve really helped me.

Thank you to my family for being so patient with me while I let my deadlines drive me into a mad panic.

And thank you, dear readers, for coming with me this far. I hope we can continue to watch Misha grow together.

Yanagi