“Right — no time to stand around. We must hurry!”
Up the stairs again, down a long corridor. At the door at the end, the Royal Guard stationed there spotted the Duke and bowed deeply, opening the great door behind them.
“Brother!”
The Duke burst into the room. In the sunlight pouring from the wall-tall window, several people were gathered around a bed crowned with a lavish canopy. They were all watching the figure laid on it — His Majesty, presumably — with grave, sorrowful expressions.
A girl clinging to the bed, gripping the lying king’s hand. A woman beside her in a chair, holding back tears. An elderly man in gray robes, somberly standing by. A jade-haired woman holding a golden staff, eyes lowered. And a man in military dress with a magnificent beard, shoulders trembling with anger.
The Duke strode to the bed and addressed the gray-robed elder.
“How is my brother!?”
“We have tried every measure, but a poison with these symptoms — I have never seen it… at this rate…”
The old man closed his eyes and silently shook his head. Then, in a hoarse whisper, the king spoke.
“Al…”
“Brother!”
”…My wife and daughter… I leave to you… You are to carry on… the alliance… with Mismid…”
“Lord Touya! I’m counting on you!”
I’d been watching from a polite distance — when I came running over, the bearded man in military dress moved to stop me, but the Duke beside him cut him off.
The king looked up at me with eyes like clouded fish, his lips shaping who is… but no voice came. A pale face, lips dry as bone, breath thin — death was on him. Have to hurry.
I focused mana and held my palm out over the king.
“Recovery.”
A soft light flowed from my palm into the king. As it subsided, the king’s breathing eased into something steady; his color returned visibly.
He blinked rapidly, life returning to his eyes — and then, in one motion, he sat bolt upright in bed.
“Father!”
“Dear!”
The king turned his eyes to the girl and woman clinging to him, opening and closing his hand experimentally.
”…Nothing wrong. The agony from a moment ago — gone, like a lie.”
“Your Majesty!”
The gray-robed elder took the king’s hand, taking a pulse, peering into his eyes. This man’s a doctor, then. Right.
”…The very picture of health. To think such a thing could…”
The royal physician was speechless. The king’s eyes turned my way.
“Al… Alfred. Who is this man?”
“Mochizuki Touya, the one who restored my wife’s sight. He happened to call on my manor, so I brought him along. I knew he could save you, brother.”
”…Ah, hello. The name is Mochizuki Touya.”
I had no idea what greeting to use, and what came out was somewhat dorky. Was that all right with a king?
“I see — the man from Lady Ellen’s…! You have my deepest thanks!”
I was groping for a reply when the bearded man started clapping me on the back, bam, bam. Hey — that hurts!
“Magnificent work saving His Majesty! Lord Touya, was it!? I like you!”
He went on clapping. I said it hurts!
“General, that’s enough. So this is the Null spell [Recovery]. Fascinating.”
The woman with the golden staff smiled and reined the bearded man in. Saved.
“Brother — about the Mismid ambassador…”
“What of the ambassador?”
“Count Balsa is holding her as the alleged mastermind of your assassination. What shall we do?”
“Absurd! What does Mismid stand to gain from killing me!? This is the work of someone who finds me in their way!”
The king declared it flatly. So that toad really is suspect after all.
“And yet, the fact remains: His Majesty drank wine gifted by the ambassador and collapsed. Many witnessed the scene. Until that suspicion is cleared…”
“Mmm…”
The king fell into thought at the bearded general’s words. Yeah — until innocence can be shown, you can’t release her.
“We did not even know what poison was used. It might be a special poison only beastfolk use. We must investigate first…”
The royal physician muttered, troubled.
“For now, summon the ambassador. Bring her, General Leon.”
“Sir.”
The bearded man strode briskly out.
The ambassador’s almost certainly being framed. Kill the inconvenient king, pin the crime on the ambassador. Drive a wedge between the two countries, then start a war with a moral pretext. That kind of plan, basically. Pretty obvious.
“Um…”
A timid voice broke into my pondering. I looked up — there stood the princess (Princess Yumina, was it?), her eyes on me.
About two or three years older than Sue, maybe. Twelve or thirteen. The same blonde hair as Sue too, big eyes that were charming — and looking closely, the eyes were different colors left and right. The right blue, the left green. Heterochromia, that. In a fluffy white dress, a silver hair-ornament glinting at her crown.
“Thank you for saving my father.”
She bowed deeply as she said it. Polite child. Glad she wasn’t a willful, haughty type of princess.
“Please, don’t mention it. I’m just glad he’s well.”
Being formally thanked was kind of embarrassing, so I covered with a smile. But the princess kept staring at me. Eh — what?
Staaare…
Staaaaaare…
Staaaaaaaaaare…
Staaaaaaaaaaaaare…
“Um… is something wrong?”
The intense gaze got too much. I looked away as I asked. After a beat, the princess, faintly blushing, opened her mouth small.
”…Are younger girls not to your taste?”
”…What?”
I had no idea what the question meant; I tilted my head. At that moment the door opened, and the bearded general came in followed by a beastfolk woman in her early twenties. Huh? She’s…
“Origa Strand, presenting myself.”
The beastfolk woman knelt on one knee before the king on the bed and bowed her head. From her crown, beast ears stood pertly. From her hips a tail extended. Fox.
“I’ll be blunt. Did you come to this country to kill me?”
“On my honor, never! I would never lay poison for Your Majesty!”
“As I thought. You are not the sort to do something so foolish. I believe you.”
The Mismid ambassador’s expression eased at the king’s words.
“However, the fact remains that the wine you gifted was poisoned. What do we do about that?”
“Th-that is…”
The fox-beastfolk woman drooped her head at the staff-bearing woman’s words. No proof of innocence. The staff-woman didn’t sound accusing, more like she was raising the question of what now. Mm…
“Excuse me?”
“Lord Touya?”
“O-oh! You—!”
The fox-beastfolk woman startled at seeing me. Ah — yeah, that woman from the other day. The older sister of Arma, the fox-beastfolk girl I helped when she was lost in the capital. Origa-san, was it.
“You knew the ambassador?”
“I’d gotten on with her sister. Briefly, then. Anyway, set that aside.”
I waved off the Duke’s question and made a boxing-it-aside gesture, but no one reacted. Tch!
I turned to the bearded general with what had been bothering me.
“Where did His Majesty collapse?”
“In the great dining hall, where dignitaries take meals. Why?”
“Is the scene preserved as it was?”
“Hm? Ah, yes, as it was. Although the wine was removed for poison testing…”
And still no detection, of course. It’s probably the standard trick, that. Trick isn’t even the word. If they ever determine the wine has no poison in it, the whole thing falls apart immediately. Slapdash. Better confirm, though.
“Could you take me to that room? The ambassador’s innocence may turn out to be provable.”
Everyone exchanged looks, but the king gave the go-ahead, and General Leon escorted me to the room.
The room was a large hall — a fireplace built of white brick, a wall of windows facing the garden hung with deep-blue curtains. Expensive-looking paintings down the walls; a magnificent chandelier overhead. A long table, white tablecloth — silver candlesticks and dishes still bearing the meal sat untouched.
I asked the General to bring out the wine in question.
“This wine — is it something rare?”
“Don’t really know, but apparently. The ambassador said it’s from a specific village in Mismid. Quite valuable, supposedly.”
“I see.”
Let’s check.
“Search: Poison.”
I triggered the search spell. Looked at the wine, then around the room, across the table. Hmph — figures. Everyone here would notice eventually, but they don’t have search magic.
So — what to do. As things stood, I-don’t-know-anything would probably get them through. Maybe they planned around even that. Worst case, mild suspicion if it fails — that kind of thing?
“I’ve got a rough picture. General, please bring everyone in here. Including Count Balsa. And one favor —”
“A favor?”
The General tilted his head, puzzled, but agreed to my small request. No hard evidence — then I’ll have to extract a confession.
Right, then. Time to put on a little play.