Three days after I had asked the bird guardian beasts to investigate Marion.
I was in a corner of the courtyard, receiving their report.
“Ho-hoo!”
“Hmm, hmm. So Marion is sleeping alone in the annex, is she?”
“Ho!”
“Yes, Lady Luria, that seems to be the case!”
Of course, I couldn’t understand the language of animals, so I relied on Kuro to interpret for me.
Whenever Kuro asked a question, the leader of the bird guardians, an owl, would answer on their behalf.
I had asked Darw, Carro, and Koruko to keep watch so no one would catch me talking with Kuro. Even so, I remained cautious, glancing around as I questioned the owl.
“Was she being properly taken care of?”
“Ho-ho-hoo.”
“No, she wasn’t. It seems she had to retrieve her three meals a day herself from outside the door,” Kuro translated.
The birds were incredibly capable, managing to locate Marion in the vast royal capital. Not only that, they had observed her thoroughly.
“She wasn’t being looked after because it might be contagious?”
“…Ho.”
“That could be the reason,” Kuro replied.
Poor Marion. Being left alone when you’re sick is unbearably lonely, unsettling, and heartbreaking.
The memory of falling ill in my previous life overlapped with Marion’s situation, and tears welled up in my eyes as I imagined what she was going through.
“Maybe they had no choice, since it’s contagious…”
I wiped away my tears with my sleeve. Marion was the one suffering, not me. This wasn’t the time to cry.
“Was Marion able to eat?”
“Ho.”
“She’s barely eaten anything. She’s become extremely thin,” Kuro translated somberly.
If she doesn’t eat, she won’t recover. Time might be running out.
“What are her symptoms? Does she have a fever or headaches?”
“Ho-ho, ho-ho-ho, ho~.”
“High fever and headaches, and rashes as the main symptoms,” Kuro explained.
“Those symptoms… could it be that illness I treated in my previous life?”
In my past life, I had treated tens of thousands of people—and even caught the disease myself.
It was highly contagious and had a high mortality rate. Even if you survived, your entire body would be left with scars. Of course, if I used my healing magic, no scars would remain.
“I think… it was called Redpox?”
I had heard the name came from the way it turned the entire body red, leaving pockmarks even after recovery.
“If it’s Redpox, then it’s not unusual for her not to be cared for…”
In my previous life, no one cared for me either. It was natural since I was bullied, but even the patients I treated were isolated and rarely looked after.
Those who became too weak to feed themselves were the first to die.
“But if it’s Redpox, I can cure it.”
After visiting the wet nurse’s child, I would sneak into the annex where Marion was and use my healing magic.
If it was Redpox, my parents would never allow anyone to see Marion. It was a disease that killed about half the children who caught it.
When I asked about her symptoms, my father probably lied, claiming he didn’t know. If he had mentioned the disease by name, I might have learned of its high fatality rate and been frightened.
“Should I… make some rice porridge?”
“There’s no way to deliver it,” Kuro pointed out.
“Hmm… What should I do then?”
“Maybe bring her some sweets?” Kuro suggested.
“Yeah, that’s a good idea.”
Sweets are sweet and full of nutrients. When you’re starving, something sweet can truly reach your soul.
Marion, who hadn’t been eating much, was surely craving something sweet.
“Thanks, everyone,” I said, stroking each of the birds gently.
I also asked them to continue gathering information in the future.
Three days after Luria asked to visit the wet nurse’s child. That afternoon.
“The sweets are delicious! I want more! So good!”
Watching Luria enthusiastically eating snacks in the dining hall, Amalia felt a bad premonition.
Luria’s tone was overly exaggerated.
And next to her, Darw was acting suspiciously, glancing around nervously as if they were up to something.
“…”
As Amalia peeked into the dining hall from outside, her eyes met with those of Carro, the prairie dog.
Carro tilted her head, feigning innocence.
Whenever Luria was up to something, Carro was particularly skilled at playing dumb.
“Lady Luria, please eat your sweets more slowly,” the maid cautioned.
“I’ll be careful!”
Even after being scolded, Luria continued munching her snacks enthusiastically, as if competing with Koruko.
When Luria was scheming, Koruko never bothered to cover it up.
That was Amalia’s conclusion.
Whether the plan failed or succeeded, Koruko seemed to believe it would work out in Luria’s favor either way—or so it appeared to Amalia.
Of course, Koruko, being just a chicken, couldn’t possibly have such deep thoughts.
Unaware that Amalia was watching, Luria quietly glanced around as she returned to her room.
As usual, Darw stuck close to Luria, looking around nervously, clearly hiding something.
Amalia decided to follow them.
Once back in her room, Luria began working on something.
“Wafuu~?”
“Darw, don’t eat that. This is…”
As expected, she seemed to be up to something.
The memory of the praying mantis egg incident flashed through Amalia’s mind, and she couldn’t help but speak up.
“…Luria?”
“Ah! It’s nothing!”
Luria was wrapping something in a handkerchief and quickly hid it behind her back.
“You’re not planning to eat grasshoppers again, are you?”
“N-no, I’m not!”
She was flustered. Luria was terrible at lying; her face gave her away immediately.
“If not grasshoppers, then maybe cicadas?”
“N-no! There’s nothing here!”
“Did you bring home another new animal?”
“I-I didn’t do anything like that!”
Luria was clearly panicking too much.
“Then, can you show it to your mother? You can show it, right?”
“Uh… no, I can’t.”
As expected, she must be hiding something similar to a grasshopper.
“Luria. Just show me what it is.”
“…Okay.”
When Amalia pressed her, Luria gave in and showed her the handkerchief.
What was wrapped inside wasn’t a bug but one of the cookies that had been served earlier as snacks.
Amalia was relieved it wasn’t an insect.
“Luria, why were you hiding sweets?”
“Um… well, you see…”
Luria hesitated, but Amalia could sense her intentions.
“Mother isn’t angry. I’m sorry for using a stern tone—I thought it was a bug.”
“A bug, huh…”
Hearing that, Luria’s expression lit up, as if she had just thought of a great idea.
“No bugs, alright?”
“I know!”
“…Were you planning to give the sweets to the wet nurse’s child?”
Amalia suspected Luria might have been planning to give grasshoppers to the wet nurse’s child. Luria had a tendency to treasure bugs as if they were little treasures, almost like a boy.
Incidentally, Luria’s wet nurse’s child was a girl named Sara.
“Well then… Luria, if it’s sweets for the wet nurse’s child, I’ll prepare proper ones for you. You go ahead and eat those.”
“…Okay. Nom, nom, nom.”
Luria immediately started eating.
Amalia marveled at how much Luria ate, wondering where all that food went in her small body.
Luria ate two or three times as much as Lydia had at five years old, yet she never seemed to gain weight. Amalia found that enviable.
“Sweets can spoil, you know. Even if they don’t, they dry out and become hard and not as tasty.”
“They’re still tasty when they’re hard,” Luria replied, tilting her head in confusion.
Though Luria had never experienced hunger, she disliked wasting food.
Even cold rice or dried, hardened sweets—things that normal noble daughters or even servants would avoid—Luria happily ate as though searching for the good in every bite.
“That’s true. But freshly made ones are tastier. I’m sure the wet nurse’s child will appreciate that more, don’t you think?”
“You’re right. Mother, make sure to prepare plenty of sweets, okay?”
“Of course, I will.”
It seemed like Luria was worried that the wet nurse’s child might be hungry.
But the wet nurse’s father was a wealthy baron. The child was in no danger of starvation.
“There’s no need to worry. You’re so kind, Luria.”
Amalia gently hugged Luria.
