RTGD 50

Chapter 50

“What on earth must I do to make you want to live?”

One corner of Litrisha’s spacious room was stacked like a tower with the new gifts Killian had sent.

He had followed his initial plan, sending her all sorts of rare and precious items.

But it was all meaningless.

The very idea that he could hold on to her with such things was arrogant in itself.

That it was enough to just keep the shell of her within reach?

“Stupid bastard.”

At his voice laced with disgust, the drowsing Litrisha rubbed her eyes.

“Killian…? What did you say…? What about me?”

“…I said the fireplace has gone out and the floor is cold. Go sleep in bed instead.”

“Mmm… I guess you’re right. I don’t hear the crackling anymore. When did it go out…? Looks like the rain has stopped too.”

“The rain stopped a while ago. Come. I’ll take you to bed—hold on tight so you don’t fall.”

“Okay…”

Half-asleep, Litrisha wrapped her arms around Killian’s neck.

The soft weight of her body relying entirely on him felt oddly welcome.

“Are you hurting anywhere? No headaches?”

“No.”

“Good. That’s a relief.”

As he walked while patting her back, Killian spotted a children’s book lying on the table.

“Ah, I found it recently. It’s quite fun!”

He could still hear her flustered voice making excuses. Unable to simply pass it by, he picked the book up.

“I thought she was just saying whatever out of embarrassment, but I guess she really did like the book.”

After laying Litrisha down on the bed, Killian sat beside her.

When he opened the book, a handful of doodles fluttered out.

It was obvious who had drawn the scattered sketches on the bedsheet. The clean, cute lines mirrored the gentleness in her eyes.

The very same eyes that were now quietly staring at him.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

Killian gently covered her eyelids with his hand.

For a moment he wondered if her sight had returned, but her gaze wasn’t quite meeting his, so that wasn’t it.

It was probably just the stillness of the night that helped her guess his location by the sound of his breathing.

“What are you looking at?”

“The drawings you made.”

“Ah…! Don’t look! Those are just doodles!”

Litrisha flailed, trying to snatch them back, but her hands waved in the wrong direction.

“Why are you so embarrassed? They’re quite good. Could even go in a storybook.”

Feeling as if her bare face had been exposed, Litrisha buried her face in her palms.

Sleep had long since fled.

She sat up, hugging the blanket to her chest, cheeks puffed in protest.

Killian figured she must have thought he was teasing her, even though he genuinely meant the compliment.

“By the way, Litrisha. Piril told me that you asked him to make an antidote to send to Telsi Village.”

“…News travels fast, doesn’t it?”

Despite everything, she still replied politely, and Killian unconsciously brushed his lips.

“I imagine the villagers must be extremely wary. What will you do about that?”

“…I thought maybe we could use a storybook.”

“A book?”

Killian looked at the one he was holding with fresh eyes. This thing?

“It’s easier to win over children than adults. And children love storytellers.”

Litrisha recalled a storyteller she’d met while living at the orphanage.

Back then, toys were an impossible dream for her. The fairy tales read aloud by the storyteller were her toys.

And the snacks they handed out during visits—those had tasted like heaven. Young Litrisha used to wait every day on the orphanage steps just for them.

And surely, the kids huddled in shacks in Telsi Village were no different.

“…Is it too far-fetched?”

“No, it’s not a bad plan. If we’re doing this, we might as well tweak the story a bit. Like turning the antidote into a magical potion.”

“Then the kids would drink the antidote without suspicion…!”

Litrisha clapped her hands in excitement, only to quickly deflate.

“But unfortunately, I’ll have to give up on rewriting the story. I’m no good at writing interesting stuff.”

“Why would you rewrite it? Just ask the author of the book to do it.”

“But there’s no time. We don’t even have enough antidote as it is. How are we supposed to find the author and ask them to rewrite it in time?”

But Killian looked completely unconcerned.

“It won’t take that long. I wrote this book, after all.”

What did he say he wrote? It sounded absurd, like she’d misheard due to too much medicine.

Seeing her stunned expression, Killian repeated himself.

“Litrisha, the fairy tale you enjoyed reading—I wrote it.”

Flipping through the pages, he confidently declared he could rewrite it in a day.

After that bold statement, word began to spread in Telsi Village that a wandering storyteller was reading tales featuring a magical potion.

And just a few days later, Litrisha heard that the antidote had started spreading like wildfire throughout the village.

✦✦✦

“Oh ho.”

With a short exclamation, Nero continued organizing his paperwork, pretending not to hear.

Ever since they’d departed the Grand Duke’s castle, he’d heard that exclamation over ten times. Or was it twenty?

He didn’t know. He’d stopped counting halfway through.

Rubbing his sore backside from four straight days of travel, Nero returned to work.

Still, the carriage was slowing down. They must be nearing their destination.

Just a little longer. If he could just keep his ears shut a little longer…

“O-ho-ho! Would you look at this?”

As Nero ignored him, Peter deliberately let out a louder exclamation.

“Sigh… What now? Did an extinct white-tailed fantail bird just fly past the window or something?”

Unable to keep ignoring him, Nero finally gave in. Peter, lowering his voice in mock solemnity, said:

“Nero. What kind of person do you take me for?”

“If I’m mistaken, I apologize.”

“If that had happened, I’d have already jumped out of the carriage chasing it!”

“……”

Of course. Nero mentally kicked himself for falling for that brief moment of seriousness.

He shoved the paperwork he’d been reviewing far to the side.

“Yeah, Nero. Just put that away. You’ll get motion sickness doing that in the carriage.”

“My semicircular canals are strong. I’ll be fine.”

“Wow. Lucky you. Anyway, take a look at this.”

After his half-hearted compliment, Peter shoved a video orb in Nero’s face.

The orb was showing a report from a trading post near the border.

“Apparently, there’s a wandering storyteller in Telsi Village who’s been reading fairy tales to the kids.”

“Storytellers tend to come and go. Nothing unusual enough to warrant a report, I think.”

“Normally, yes. But after the readings, the storyteller gives out potions. And the people who drink them have been getting noticeably healthier.”

“…You’re not saying those potions are actually antidotes, are you?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Looks like Their Graces the Grand Duke and Duchess are distributing the antidote in a very clever way.”

Peter, overcome with emotion, pressed his hands to his lips, eyes gleaming like a mischievous snake.

“Nero, I really do have a good eye for people. Aren’t our new business partners just fascinating?”

“…Ugh.”

“Since His Grace is working so hard, I’d better step up my game too—Oh! Looks like we’ve arrived.”

As the slowing carriage came to a full stop, Peter brushed off his wrinkled clothes with exaggerated care.

“Young Master, please wait here. I’ll announce our arrival—”

“What’s this? What brings the young viscount here?”

“Oh… Nero. No need to announce anything. We’ve already run into the person who lives here.”

Peter had already jumped out of the carriage and, as luck would have it, had run into someone.

Stretching his stiff back, Nero closed his mouth with the resignation of a man who had seen this coming.

Right. Expecting his free-spirited master to quietly wait had been foolish from the start.

And Peter, as if determined to fulfill those low expectations, was already playing his part.

“Long time no see, Young Master Esta. Been well?”

Unbothered by Nero’s suffering, Peter cheerfully threw open the carriage door, eyes sparkling.

Standing in front of the carriage, just returning home, was none other than Isis, hands in his pockets, leaning with a thuggish air.

Even with an air more befitting a street punk, Peter nimbly jumped down from the carriage.

“Since fate brought us together, how about letting me inside? I brought an exciting new trade item.”