Winning Favor Was The Easiest Job! (6)

Meanwhile, in the royal capital, spurred on by the noble faction’s pestering, an investigative delegation was being assembled.

Imperial Princess Riana was selected as the delegation’s leader, and Agnes was nominated to guard her—news that set many nobles abuzz.

“Damn it, what else could this mean but an intent to exclude the noble faction wholesale!”

Marquis Doriyan ranted; Duke Balsen had much to say, but simply glared and kept his mouth shut. Seizing the moment, Marquis Doriyan shouted to the other nobles:

“Do something so each of us gets a foot in the door! If we sit like this, our noble faction will end up like goblins chasing gremlins!”

“And what have you done, Marquis Doriyan?”

At the counter from a fellow marquis and famed man of skill, Marquis Giltian, Doriyan pointed to Duke Balsen and shouted:

“I worked to create an environment in which His Grace Balsen could move. Are you going to ignore my merit in setting the stage with vast sums of coin?”

“That damned money has always been the problem! I hear this matter, too, is tied to that money—am I wrong?”

“Have you finished speaking? Are you slandering me as some petty noble who only worships coin!!!”

As the two marquises traded shouts, Duke Balsen thought, “He isn’t wrong…” He coughed once to gather their attention.

“Nothing will change by shouting. What we need is a proper alternative. Sending the princess to head a delegation is unusual. And Agnes is a bodyguard who serves near Her Majesty the Empress—so the opening is plainly in the escort. How has no one noticed?”

At Balsen’s words, Marquis Giltian snapped his fingers—“Ah!”—raised his hand, and, with Balsen’s nod to speak, laid out a proposal:

“Sir Agnes is a knight outstanding in both letters and arms—yet her duty is to protect Her Majesty. Therefore, we should push on the escort side. Would Your Grace allow me to recommend one of our house’s Masters?”

The House of Giltian had long served the Empire with generations of knights. Though the current lord, Marquis Giltian, had not reached near-Master strength, his eldest son, of excellent talent, had risen to the rank and title of Sword Master. If they argued he could stand in for Agnes, they might have a chance—so Giltian explained, and noble-faction lords fell over themselves to praise him.

Marquis Doriyan, however, was displeased.

“Cursed bug who knows nothing but brute strength… showing me up… And Balsen didn’t give me a chance. Damn it all, how much money has he swallowed from me…!!”

Marquis Doriyan’s anger piled up layer upon layer.

Meanwhile, when Riana received the news that she would lead this delegation, her heart fluttered.

She did not think it was some destined bond—but she could not forget the pharmacist’s indifferent gaze.

And as time passed, Riana had begun to beautify the meaning of that man in her mind—when this fine chance came.

“Princess, remember: I charged you with this grave task because you owe it to him to let him know your blemish is gone. It is only right to tell the one who healed you that you are cured.”

“Your Majesty speaks true. But… will I do well?”

“You are the cleverest child of all. And as one who must lead the Empire to come, you must surely examine the Ingrad Domain—it will be important. The Viscount of Ingrad is… No. I will explain when you return.”

Riana was curious at the Empress’s half-swallowed words, but decided there must be a reason for the silence and did not press further.

Just then, the doors burst open; the Emperor hurried in and seized Riana’s hands.

“Why, pray tell, must the princess go to such an accursed place!”

Riana quickly explained the circumstances to the Empress’s shouting husband; calmed, the Emperor spoke in a measured tone:

“It is the Demonic Frontier. Even with Dame Agnes, that place has spurned humans for generations.”

“But do not merchants and nobles go once a month to gather medicinal materials? Riana will simply go in their stead. Please, Your Majesty, do not let it trouble you overmuch.”

“How can a father not be troubled? Empress, how can you be so cold, as a mother!”

“It is not coldness. This child must one day lead the Empire; I am only steadying my aching heart to give her a chance!”

Sensing a quarrel about to start, Riana hastened to speak.

“I—I wish to go. It is not because of the Viscount of Ingrad. That land is also imperial territory; as Mother says, I must one day embrace it. I wish to see with my own eyes what they need there—and how we might erase their hostility toward humans. Please, grant me leave.”

“Heh heh… Has Riana grown so much, already…?”

“Did I not say it? She is the pillar who will lead the Empire!”

With a radiant smile, Riana persuaded the two sovereigns who looked on her with pride yet worry.

“I said grind the drug finer!”

I was taking the chance to try a new method for mass production: have others clean and prep the ingredients, then I would inject sufficient mana just before blending—cutting out much of the complicated process.

For the mana suppressant, I judged we were almost at ninety percent success; now I was checking whether the method applied to other medicines as well. The mercenaries were handling the ingredient-prep phase.

Payment was set as a generous share of invigorators—and perhaps because of that, everyone worked very hard.

We gathered powders ground fine and ingredients turned to juice, I injected mana, made a paste, and then had the beastkin women’s hands form them into pills—repeating the process.

“For the wound-healing medicine—performance versus the original… eighty percent, maybe? That’s acceptable, right?”

I nicked Guts’s arm with a dagger and watched the healing, asking as I observed. Guts, despite the cut on his own arm, was fascinated by the recovery.

“I’ve seen it before, but yo—no, Viscount of Ingrad, your medicines are certainly outstanding.”

Honorifics weren’t natural for Guts; he kept catching himself when about to say “you.” Perhaps it was time he got used to it.

It had been three days since they’d arrived at our manor; not a short time. In the meantime they’d grown very friendly with the beastkin; I had even seen Debik and Guts sparring or drinking together by night.

Birds of a feather had quickly bonded.

“Well, let’s call them simple-hearted.”

Once I assessed the recovery and confirmed we could skip the steps I hadn’t handled, the conclusion was that mass production was viable. After checking that the quality posed no big problem, I said:

“We won’t need to test this one further. This passes too.”

With that, the passed medicines already numbered over twenty types, including the invigorator. The big batch of invigorators we’d just made had been allotted to the mercenaries and the beastkin women who helped; I dusted off my hands.

“But… when will mana recover?”

It had been three full days since ingestion. By expectation, the effect should have worn off now. But my mana showed no sign of moving. The upside was that I could feel mana more clearly, and in trying this and that to move it, I had even managed, bit by bit, to draw and use some.

“Not bad for training… but can Ms. Hare do it too?”

Maybe because I’d made a hole in her dress that first day and… touched her tail?

Hare flushed and wouldn’t meet my eyes whenever she saw me. Trying to talk things through got nowhere, and with the effect refusing to end, my frustration only grew.

Meanwhile, the number of beastkin wanting “houses” kept rising.

It seemed the testimonials of those living in completed homes were inspiring others. This was… awkward.

“Handle one task, and another pops up. I’m blessed with work, huh?”

That was exactly how it felt. Still, in the long run they were all my prospective patrons; I couldn’t treat them lightly. If only my body would hurry up and use mana again.

“My loooord!”

Vincent came running out of the manor, shouting. Why now?

“What is it?”

“T-the receiving array is reacting!”

“…And?”

“Huh?”

He’d answered my question with a question; I asked again.

“And? What am I supposed to do?”

“N-not exactly anything… it’s just… it’s reacting even though it’s not the regular time, so I came to report…”

“If that’s all, let’s go together. Everyone else, please keep compounding.”

Someone might be coming; I decided to be ready. Now that the domain had a lord, they might adjust the dispatch timing or increase the frequency. As I entered the great gallery where the receiving array sat, the softly glowing magic circle suddenly flared and began to spit out many people.

Then those people all rushed to the maids stationed around and clung to them—retching. I wondered if I had to see this every time.

And what sin had the maids committed?

I shot a look of displeasure; at least one woman, steady on her feet, came toward me.

Her figure felt familiar. A woman whose face was covered with a familiar cloth—surely not? I asked cautiously:

“You wouldn’t happen to be… Her Highness the Princess?”

I received an answer.

“Viscount of Ingrad… it has been a while… it is a pleasu—blurgh…!”

Even the composed princess clapped a hand over her mouth and ran.

It seemed that no matter how experienced or strong-willed one was, there was no helping it. Regretfully, I pointed toward the imperial party and spoke to Vincent:

“Please bring everyone water and one mind-and-body soother each, and let them settle.”

“Yes, my lord!”

Vincent and several maids hurried off. In the midst of it, someone’s gaze bored into me: a man with rather sharp eyes who did not avert them even while retching. I wondered what grudge he nursed—when the princess, who had stopped retching fastest, came back to me and offered a formal greeting.

“Viscount of Ingrad, it has been a while.”

I bowed my head and returned her courtesy.

“It truly has, Your Highness. Have you been well?”