Ah, What Should I Do?! (5)

My daily routine was nothing special.

First, I woke at dawn—mostly because of Allena. She now barged into my room as if it were her own.

Well, I didn’t hate it—I was in my vigorous twenties too—but I wondered if Allena knew there were times I wanted to avoid it. Anyway, after waking, I usually went into the workshop, packed mana recovery tonics and the like, and left the manor.

Once outside, I typically started my day by talking with beastkin or building houses for them.

It hardly deserved to be called a “routine,” but I believed communication was crucial; think of it as a morning walk for the sake of staying in touch.

I would note each tribe’s traits, build houses in the shapes they preferred, and ask what conveniences they needed—doing my best not to neglect the work of welcoming beastkin as domain residents.

Around sunrise, I returned to the manor, ate the sandwiches Seria had prepared, and asked about the day’s schedule and who I needed to meet.

“It dragged on longer than expected…”

At my words, Seria nodded. When the imperial court sent someone, they usually stayed three or four days before returning. This time, the return kept being postponed because of the princess’s venomous-spider “incident.”

I’d heard they delayed the return under the pretext of watching over the princess’s health, but in truth, I knew it was gag order and “discipline” time.

From the princess’s perspective, it was inevitably embarrassing—something she would want silenced.

It was, after all, an incident involving exposure of an intimate part—something like a disgrace. Perhaps because she had narrowly escaped death, whenever I wasn’t at the manor or went out for inspection these past few days, she seemed uneasy.

“Did Her Highness say anything?”

“No. She ate a modest breakfast and seemed to be doing something in her room.”

“Doing something,” huh. She probably had a lot to arrange. She had made me a state-run pharmacist and increased her own workload.

It seemed she planned to handle most medicinal ingredients herself for trade. But trying to deal in goods without established market prices? I doubted it’d go smoothly.

So, among the merchants who came with her, I knew she was seeking advice from those aligned with the imperial house.

“A week already, huh…”

My routine itself hadn’t changed. In fact, working at dawn proved convenient—fewer onlookers—and perhaps because I ended up with more free time overall, the days felt less cramped.

“Is Guts’s party working well?”

“Because Her Highness publicly promised to take them back with her, they’re working hard.”

At Seria’s reply, I headed out.

At the temporary worksite I had set up, the mercenaries had taken over the grinding of ingredients, which made everything far easier.

All I had to do was drink mana restoratives and imbue the powdered ingredients with mana, then portion and pack them so the merchants could depart with their loads—that was essentially all the work our domain did now.

“You’ve come?”

A mercenary resting outside spotted me and bowed courteously. However recently I’d been a free citizen, I was now a proper noble above a viscount.

I could tell the mercenaries found me daunting.

“Is the work manageable?”

“You’ve accommodated us a lot—nothing’s too hard. But will this simple labor truly earn us the help to use Teleport?”

“The imperial side is taking a large volume of ingredients this time. You’ll end up carrying loads during transit; frankly I feel bad you’ll be used like porters.”

The Invisible Mercenary Company was said to be A-rank.

A-rank required both skill and trust recognized by the state and the Adventurers’ Guild; that was why the princess trusted them and planned to return with them.

Moreover, given Teleport’s conditions, I’d heard someone had to be physically carrying the goods to move with them. They could carry far more that way—two birds with one stone.

After a brief chat, I stepped into the shed. Medicinal dust hung in the air—stifling. This wouldn’t do. I clapped to draw attention and called out:

“Wrap up what you’re doing for now, tidy the area, and take a break!”

A few said there was still work left, but I had no intention of forcing labor in poor conditions. I quickly persuaded them, and we began cleaning.

Guts approached me in the midst of it.

“We planned to split shifts morning and afternoon. Why stop us?”

“Even if medicinal ingredients are ‘good’ for the body, too much becomes poison. Exposed to this kind of environment, problems are inevitable.”

Who knew what effects a mix of floating dusts and varied herb particles would have once inhaled?

Most of what we were grinding came from the Forest of the Demon Dragon; their potencies were not negligible.

After I explained those minor details, Guts looked surprised and impressed. In any case, mercenaries were people too—they needed rest. I simply made the environment tolerable.

After checking the mercenaries’ workshop, I headed to another worksite where beastkin labored.

There, mostly beastkin women worked, chiefly at juicing fruits and high-yield botanicals.

Beastkin possessed excellent physical abilities; even when the juicing was more demanding than the mercenaries’ grinding, the women didn’t struggle. I told them as well to rest a while, then began inspecting the finished extracts.

Though I would do the mana infusion in a batch in the afternoon, I needed to run spot checks.

Watching the piles of medicines that might leave at any time grow was, in its way, satisfying.

“Is the quality all right?”

Reuma came up as I surveyed the goods. For no good reason, her face overlapped with Hare’s, and I looked away slightly.

“You did excellently. This is very good quality.”

“That’s a relief. And… is Hare doing well?”

Hare had been a worry. I needed to send her home, but she didn’t seem inclined to leave the manor.

It wasn’t as if anything more had happened since that day, but whenever we crossed paths, Hare greeted me with a faint smile—both apologetic and burdensome to me.

“Her mana’s recovering well; we agreed to observe for a few more days. There are a few things to test, too.”

That last bit was a lie. I couldn’t say she didn’t want to leave. Reuma nodded.

“Please look after Hare. She’s tender and indecisive—she might be a burden.”

If that was about Hare, she had it quite wrong, I thought—but since they were family, I let it pass, assuming she knew Hare better than I did.

After asking that the finished extracts be moved to the manor workshop, I returned—and ran into Vincent, who had been looking for me.

“My lord, Her Highness wishes to see you.”

“Again to—”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing.”

Vincent tilted his head, but I told him to carry on and went alone to the princess. Everyone else had already been driven from her room and stood lined up in the hall.

I sighed, entered, and faced the princess.

Seated in a chair today, she looked up at me and asked:

“The poison is completely cleared, yes?”

“Yes. If you’d like, I’ll prepare a few days’ worth of medicine so you can take it with you when you return.”

“That’s kind of you. About that return… it’s time we set a date.”

So, she was finally ready to leave.

“When will you depart?”

“I’m thinking… three days from now. It looks like more ingredients will be moving than expected, so there are things I need to understand.”

“What do you mean by ‘understand’?”

“About the medicines, and about you, Viscount Ingrad, and…”

She trailed off. I wondered what she meant, but didn’t ask. I addressed the first part instead.

“Ask me anything about the medicines. If I know it, I’ll explain in detail. Since you plan to sell them, you’ll need to know the effects and usage for what you take. Three days… sounds right.”

The thought of being free in three days made me a bit giddy. Perhaps because of my reaction, she asked with a faintly sulky look:

“Are you… happy that I’m leaving?”

“…How could I be?”

I couldn’t exactly say, Oh, incredibly happy! My cheeks twitched upward despite my awkward smile.

As I scolded myself for poor face control, she asked:

“…You’ll keep that a secret, won’t you?”

If by “that” she meant the dropper… into her—

“What happened? I don’t recall anything.”

At my answer, she gave an awkward smile. As a woman, she was bound to be sensitive; it was natural to ask repeatedly.

“I see. I’ll have questions about the medicines this afternoon—please make time.”

“Of course.”

With a simple schedule set, I left her room—and could only feel sorry for the knights lined up outside, faces taut with tension.

I didn’t know what training had drilled ‘secrecy’ into them, but they would likely spend their lives in a harsh space.

“Well, they have nothing to do with my life… so whatever.”

After that, unable to proceed with afternoon work, I passed the time in the workshop by pre-infusing mana into the ingredients already sent up.