The woman was slumped forward in a chair, only her upper body just barely draped across the bed.
Her cheeks were a little thinner than usual, the rims of her eyes red and raw. The platinum-blonde hair that was always elegantly dressed with elaborate ornaments had simply been bundled into one careless knot today.
When I shifted my gaze a little further sideways, I could see a bowl of water and spare towels sitting on the shelf.
Plop.
A bead of condensation on the side of the bowl slid down in a long streak and dropped onto the shelf.
The hand clasped around mine was damp and hot with sweat. She’d probably been sitting like this ever since I lost consciousness.
...
Wheeze, wheeze. The only sound in the bedroom was my own unsteady breathing, as though my airway had been plugged shut.
Even buried under a thick blanket, my body shivered and shook. And as cold as it was, the woman holding my hand had on nothing but a thin indoor dress with hardly any trimming.
That bothered me more than anything, so I stretched out my free hand and gently tugged at the blanket covering me.
Just a little more...
I reached my short arm out as far as it would go, and it shook so violently you’d have thought an earthquake had hit. The heavy blanket felt like it had been soaked through with water.
Still, just as I thought I’d managed to get the blanket over her shoulders, her tightly shut eyelids slowly lifted. Had I made too much noise?
Fresh out of sleep, the woman looked at me with unfocused eyes. The irises they revealed looked exactly like a dim sunset sky in the moment before the sun goes down.
Those two eyes that watched me with a glow that would never set soon rippled, like a stone had been thrown onto still water.
“...Baby?”
She called me in a hazy voice still lost somewhere in her dreams, and then, apparently realising this was real, her face crumpled up all at once like a child’s.
“You’ve finally opened your eyes. Ahh...”
She wasn’t a large woman by any measure, but she was more than big enough to haul a small child into her arms.
She kissed my forehead, where the fever still hadn’t entirely broken, and recited prayer after prayer of thanks. So fervent that she looked almost like a devout believer.
“Thank goodness, oh, thank goodness... you have no idea how afraid I was that I’d have to send you on ahead of me!”
Now that I’d recovered my memories of my past life, her face and her voice both felt achingly young. Even so, the arms around me still carried that scent I’d missed and a warmth that settled me.
I listened quietly to her weeping, hesitated, then slowly, carefully laid a hand on her back.
“...Mother.”
Her name was Celine Fridrasil.
The Emperor’s third wife, and the mother of the third prince, Michel Fridrasil. In this life, she was my mother.
Mother didn’t let that thread-thin voice slip past her. She immediately pulled me back from her chest and stroked my cheek. There was deep affection in the touch.
“Yes. Mother’s right here, baby. Does your head hurt? Are you dizzy, or is your stomach unsettled...?”
“I’m... kof!”
“Oh, you poor thing, if your throat hurts then you don’t have to speak. I’m sorry for making you strain yourself. Is anyone out there?”
The voice that had been murmuring so softly, so as not to startle me now that I’d woken, rose a little the moment it turned toward the far side of the curtain.
“You called, Your Highness.”
“Go at once and inform the physician that the prince has woken. And prepare some water for him to drink, not too cold.”
“Yes, I’ll have the water ready immediately, so please wait just a moment.”
Beyond the curtains ringing the bed, a shadow moved briskly, and then the white cloth was swept open with a rustle, letting in a flood of bright light.
I squinted until my eyes adjusted to the light, and when I opened them properly again, an attendant with a familiar face was approaching with a silver pot and a glass.
Through the gap in the open curtains, I could feel the other servants sneaking glances this way.
They were all working hard in their own ways to keep their faces in order, but it showed anyway: the corners of their mouths had crept up without their noticing. And the eyes of the attendant pouring the water had gone suspiciously wet.
...Apparently every last one of them had been desperately waiting for me to wake up.
“There’s a good boy. Let’s have a little more.”
Even with an attendant right there beside her, Mother insisted on nursing me herself.
She tipped the glass the way you’d feed a baby bird, and the water trickled slowly into my mouth.
Back when I had no memories I’d have taken it without a single thought, but now that I’d remembered a past life in which I’d held down a respectable job, being handled like an infant was a touch humiliating.
I’m a patient right now. A patient.
Sitting up on my own was still too much for me, so I ran through that bit of mind control and barely managed to swallow the lukewarm water one mouthful at a time.
Mother watched the sight with pity, then turned to the maid.
“Is the physician still not here?”
“The attendant left in a great rush on Your Highness’s order, so he’ll bring him any moment now. Ah, and here he is.”
The words were barely out of her mouth before a clattering of frantic footsteps announced the physician, who appeared gasping desperately for breath.
The moment he saw me conscious, the physician’s eyes went round, and he rushed over to examine me.
“Your Highness, is there anywhere that feels uncomfortable, or anywhere that hurts?”
“The prince’s throat pains him and he can hardly speak just now, so I shall answer in his place.”
The physician listened closely to Mother as he worked through a basic examination.
After a while he set his instruments down and let out a small sigh. Mother, who’d been watching him the whole time, asked with her heart in her throat.
“How is he?”
“Apart from the fever that remains, there appears to be nothing seriously wrong. He has come through the worst of it safely. Truly, it’s nothing short of a miracle.”
My entire body is still killing me and there’s nothing seriously wrong?
I stared at the physician like I was looking at a quack, but Mother clearly took it rather differently than I did. She bit down hard on her lower lip, as if to hold back whatever was welling up in her.
“I see... Thank you. Thank you, truly.”
Watching the tears roll down her cheeks, guilt crept in. She was fragile enough to begin with, and here I’d gone and put her through all this heartache for nothing.
I carefully laid my hand over the back of hers to signal that I was all right now. She caught hold of it at once, as naturally as breathing.
The physician had been watching this exchange between mother and son with a pleased look, but it seemed he still had something to add, because he cleared his throat to draw our attention.
“His Highness will need to take a fever remedy to bring the temperature down, so it would be best to get something into his stomach first.”
“Oh... Where is my head? This is no time for me to sit here crying. Mabel, bring a meal for the prince.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“His Highness hasn’t eaten in some while, so for the time being his meals should be centred on thin soups. I know it won’t be easy, but rather than a great deal at once, aim for small amounts taken often.”
I wasn’t in the mood to eat anything in particular, but with that many worried eyes on me I had no choice but to give a small nod.
And sure enough, it was no time at all before a bowl of piping hot soup was delivered right in front of me.
Floating in the pale cream soup were bits of meat and vegetable, minced so fine you could swallow them without chewing.
Mother wanted to feed me herself again, but being spoon-fed like that was honestly far too embarrassing. When I said I wanted to do it myself, she handed over the spoon, though the worry never left her face.
It took real effort just to lift a spoonful, and the rich, nutty smell that only cream soup has hit my nose. I had no appetite, frankly, but I was about to put it in my mouth without thinking anything of it.
[This is no place for people to live. There’s nothing here but murderers playing at being human.]
Out of nowhere, a passage from the original novel surfaced in my head. The content was ominous enough that my body froze all on its own.
[Do you suppose greed just vanishes if you gild the walls and hang jewels all over yourself? Ha, of course it doesn’t. It’s human nature to keep craving it right up until the moment you’re crushed to death under more wealth than you could ever carry.]
[They treasure their own safety above all else, which is exactly why they’ll harm anyone else’s without a second thought. They can’t rest easy until even a powerless, feeble third in line for the throne has been squashed like an ant.]
[I’ve been swallowing poison since I was a child, more times than I can count. I never even realised I was dying by degrees. I was just thrashing about like an idiot, trying to survive.]
Line after line kept rising up, and every one of them had come from no other mouth than Michel’s own.
My body had already been chilled; now it went cold as a slab of ice.
