What Was With This Country… Two Emperors? (8)

The maids were extremely forward with me.

Maybe it was because the night had satisfied them. Or maybe, after so long without a man, they were simply desperate. One thing was certain: they acted as if they would do anything I asked.

“So you’re saying, Apothecary, that you’ll hold the apparatus while we pound the ingredients instead?”

“For now I want to test a small batch. I could do it myself, but it would be slow and tiring… And if this works, it’ll definitely help, and I won’t ignore your effort. I’m asking for your help.”

It was a polite enough request, and one maid rolled up her sleeves without hesitation.

Of the three, she looked the youngest—and the most proactive.

I learned then that her name was Kaereot. Kaereot picked up the pestle to grind the ingredients.

I supported her, gripping the mortar and infusing mana; it went in surprisingly well. As I felt the mana soak into the mixture, Kaereot’s arm moved up and down, and her sidelong glances brought last night flashing back.

‘Yes, just like that… my manhood…’

A sudden memory of her holding it firmly with both hands, stroking up and down with devotion, and taking the glans in her mouth.

Only then did I understand why Kaereot had stepped up so eagerly. She was sex-appealing me, so to speak—telling me with body and eyes that she could do it well, no, that she would do it like this.

I let my guard down. To calm my “second self,” which was slowly but surely raising its head under that languid stimulation, I started humming the national anthem in my head.

But perhaps because Kaereot was now pounding the mortar so blatantly?

The other two seemed to catch on; the well-endowed maid named Jesia undid a button on her uniform top and said:

“I always think this room is a little hot.”

Sure, hot. Or wanting it hotter. I had to endure. It was broad daylight—the hour when nobles, the imperial couple, even the princess would be up and about.

I’d also noticed, when the maids entered earlier, two knights posted outside the door. Maybe not twenty-four-hour surveillance, but they might be watching everything about me.

“Oh my, Apothecary, if you’re tired, you should say so.”

Using mana while I endured made sweat bead on my brow. The maid named Rua noticed, drew out a handkerchief, and dabbed my forehead.

The three were desperate to tempt me, but I silently bore it and waited for the ingredients to be fully ground. Then I gently rubbed the fine powder between my fingers, checked it against the recipe’s texture, and said:

“You ground it well. Could I ask you to do the next one too?”

“Leave it to me.”

Kaereot smiled bashfully. Truly, all three were stunning—but the real issue was whether what they were doing was legal.

If it was wrong and we got caught later, it could cause serious trouble. So I decided to endure, at least anywhere many eyes might see.

If they came again at night with the excuse of washing me, I’d let it happen (?) again—but I still thought it best to avoid rumors.

Once everything was ground, we mixed the powder with Purified Water and Cleansed Water in the proper ratio, and began forming pills.

I wasn’t sure it would work, since mana was needed at every step. But as I looked down at the first dozen completed pills, I saw the very first one give off a faint light.

It was weaker than any glow I’d seen from other medicines, but it looked like a success. I picked one up, examined it, then tossed it into my mouth. The moment saliva touched it, it melted, softened, and slipped down my throat with a clear, refreshing sensation.

It was uncanny—like a living pill passing down my throat and stirring a response inside me. I didn’t know my total mana capacity, but one thing was clear.

‘All the mana I’ve spent so far… has recovered. Has it…?’

The amount of ingredients was small, so I hadn’t used much mana to make it.

Even so, the recovery mattered—and my body felt refreshed. The efficacy might be reduced, but it was still excellent. I looked to Kaereot and said,

“The potency drops a lot, but it’s a success. Good work, Kaereot.”

Blushing to her ears, Kaereot carefully set down the mortar and mimed pounding the air as she said,

“Like this, like this—then it went well.”

There was no need to make the hand motion that suggestive, but since I knew what she meant, I gave a mild reaction.

“You seem talented. I’ll count on you again later.”

“Leave it to me!”

The other two clicked their tongues in mock disappointment. If they wanted in, I wouldn’t refuse—and I made a point to remember the claims they’d made.

If trouble came up later, I’d at least have an excuse. In the Terakan Empire, a crime unpaid for could mean instant slavery and hard labor—I had to be careful.

I pocketed the remaining pills and left the materials as they were. Then I said,

“I’m tired—may I rest a bit?”

At once the three maids helped me to bed; I told them I needed a short rest and sent them out. After a while, I got up again and stepped onto the balcony—then clicked my tongue at the view.

“At least twenty meters up? Why did they put me in a room like this?”

I couldn’t make sense of it. I did know that in a great castle, the higher floors were for higher ranks.

Considering my first room had been on the second floor, this had to be at least the fifth or higher.

So it might be a level where the imperial family lived.

‘What matters now is the future. I learned that just by letting the maids channel mana into the mortar, we can still make medicine. If I find a way to leverage that, I could mass-produce pills far more easily. For now, I need to ride out this crisis… The princess must be running out of ingredients soon, so I should rest just today and get back to work.’

Many thoughts swirled—what a twisted fate.

Still, I could make what I needed; I’d use the excuse of “rest” to take a proper break today. In about seven weeks, I should finish all the medicine the princess needed. And I planned to “collapse” now and then to stock up on more ingredients.

Call it my own form of compensation.

Late that night, a woman slipped into my room—a maid with a water bucket, presumably to replace it for “humidifying” the chamber. But I felt her silhouette close the door carefully and approach me.

I opened my eyes and saw Kaereot wearing a strange expression.

“Are you awake?”

I calmed my confusion and answered evenly,

“Thanks to you. But what brings you here?”

I thought I knew why she’d come alone—but I had to ask. We couldn’t just jump into things.

“Do you… not want me?”

Kaereot countered with a question, as if she needed to hear the words from my mouth. But whatever the intention, she seemed far more desperate than I was.

“If I refuse, will you leave?”

“…Will you refuse?”

She perched sadly on the bed and slowly undid the buttons of her uniform top.

At this point, she was here because she yearned to be—but she still wanted my answer. It seemed we both wanted to avoid responsibility if caught.

“This is illegal, isn’t it?”

Kaereot flinched, looked away, and paused—then re-fastened slightly. That told me enough.

“If you won’t tell me the truth, you won’t get anything. I’m a healthy man; if a beautiful woman wants me, I won’t say it’s impossible.”

And tonight, I wouldn’t be as helpless as yesterday.

I had dated before—not many women, but I’d loved and made love. This time, I wanted to lead.

Whether she understood or not, Kaereot glanced up and asked, troubled,

“If it’s wrong… will you refuse?”

“Yesterday I saw you holding back your moans. I can guess the rest. If someone heard outside, it would be a problem. Even so, you’re here because… of the curse, right?”

Kaereot nodded slowly. Then the words that poured from her lips were something else.

“I may look like I’m in my early twenties, but I’m actually in my mid-thirties. Most women here die looking like they’re in their early twenties. The ones they love grow old and weaker day by day, but we don’t. We live vigorous lives and then die suddenly. My mother did, and my grandmother too.”

“And that’s why you’re doing this, Kaereot?”

“I joined the palace because I didn’t want to watch someone I love age and die. As a maid, I can’t date or marry. I’d been content with that life, but then… I saw it.”

Her eyes gleamed as she stared at my crotch.

“Big… strong… and that sense of manliness… Feelings I thought I’d forgotten—no, convinced myself I’d forgotten—rose up with that. I can’t endure it… not when I see something like that…”
Was this, too, the Demon God’s curse?

It couldn’t be just about frozen youth.

Thinking it over, I wondered if the Demon God truly hated the human race.

Men grew weak and old. Women remained vibrantly young, forced to watch the ones they loved age and die. By itself, that’s a punishment from the heavens.

And if you added one more thing—

An uncontrollable lust. Imagine loving someone so much you’d die for them, then watching them slowly wither and fade while you remained forever young. How much would that hurt?

Men suffered too. Could a man let the woman he loved live her whole life watching him decay?

I thought it a truly vicious curse.