“I’ll approach the family physician and request the best remedy from Rodwell. Should he prove reluctant, I’ll escalate the matter directly to the lord.”
“Indeed, Butler Rodwell can often be too frugal… I see. Rest assured. You needn’t trouble yourself further. I’ll handle this matter.”
At Zitri’s response, I let out a sigh of relief.
Then, it struck me.
‘Why did I ever put myself through this?’
Even before the possession, I was already a wreck, frequently ill. Coughing up blood was part of my daily routine, and no part of my body didn’t ache.
However, the pain never seized me this abruptly.
Why? The answer lies in the modern availability of painkillers.
These allowed me to partake in games, considerably reducing, if not entirely eliminating, my discomfort. Now, things are different.
I am forced to endure this pain.If only Elena were here, she could have concocted something useful.
In retrospect, I deeply regret not bringing her to the Academy.
“Haah…….”
A soft groan of pain escaped from me.
I drew the covers up to my chin and furrowed my brow. As I lay in my dormitory bed, I was beset by a cold that racked my entire body, forcing me to miss my meeting with the Princess.
The thought of waking up filled me with dread.
Would she punish me despite the fact that I saved her life?
‘Penelope wouldn’t be one to do so, but…….’
I’m still determining what’s to come, and there are no clear answers.
Is the only certainty that resting is currently the best option?
‘The only silver lining is that the Princess had to reschedule our meeting due to her own commitments, but what could be the issue?’
It’s impossible to predict.
In the original Inner Lunatic’s “Demon Raid” arc, we don’t get any insights into her life post-incident.
“What happened at the Academy?”
“Fortunately, we’ve been granted a three-day respite due to the demon issue. Use this time to recover, and if you’re feeling up to it, have your uniform tailored.” řÃℕO͍βЕꞩ
A positive outcome, indeed.
A brief hiatus from the Academy’s plot provides significant relief.
But what if the storyline progresses in my absence?
The mere thought is horrifying, given the countless potential outcomes.
On the bright side, I’ve managed to cope despite the “Weakling” trait. At least colds usually last up to three days.
With my health and other stats significantly improved, I am in a much better position than before.
Yet, maintaining this optimistic outlook is challenging, especially when battling a fever of over 39 degrees {102 F}.
Why must I always be like this?
Once this pain subsides, I’m bound to be enslaved by Professor Lars’ demands.
My fever spikes with a sharp wave of anger, but I manage to suppress it with a sigh.
I mustn’t let the ice on my forehead melt prematurely and cause a mess.
Struggling to contain my irritation, I turned to Zitri, sitting somewhat uneasily beside me.
“Zitri, should anything happen, wake me. I’m going to attempt some rest.”
“Of course, Young Master, don’t fret. Focus on resting. I’m adapting to the academy life, so I’ll look after you… to the best of my abilities.”
“Remember, you are
my maid.”
“The maid of the most difficult master.”
“You can’t deny that… Are you saying this just because I’m ill?”
“Indeed.”
I clicked my tongue.
Despite my complaints, Zitri remains my most reliable support. She’s loyal and on my side.
Others might not be as trustworthy, but Zitri is a sure bet.
If it had been anyone else, they would have accepted Garen’s offer long ago…
Yet, she never utters empty promises or asks for a raise.
Despite my repeated offers to increase her salary, she’s consistently declined, insisting she is adequately compensated.
By the way, she also spoils Carl with expensive brown sugar treats.
Her character is surprisingly sweet.
Before attempting to sleep, I pondered on recent events.
‘There’s been a whirlwind of activity this time,’ I thought, ‘including the initial appearance of minions. I never anticipated that Professor Lars and Ludwig’s scene would be so well hidden… And the battle’s aftermath was far larger than I expected.’
This subplot was undeniably a nuisance.
Starting with securing food, there was a myriad of tasks to handle.
And Lars’ participation in the battle was… absolutely chilling.
The entire scenario could have quickly spiraled out of control.
I strived to keep everyone safe, and miraculously, I succeeded.
Thus, I’ve certainly earned this reprieve!
‘Now is the time for genuine rest. Numerous tasks will demand my attention when I awake, but sleep is paramount for now.
With that resolution, I inhaled deeply.
I shut my eyes against the world’s turbulence. As my eyelids drooped, my consciousness seemed to recede.
It wavered like a flickering candle, finally succumbing to the darkness.
My thoughts, strained since the possession, began to unravel.
And before I knew it, I slipped into oblivion.
One could argue if this was proper rest, but if questioned whether lying supine amidst pain constitutes rest…
I’d unequivocally disagree.
* * *
Her resplendent, cascading green hair and alabaster skin shimmered translucently under the chandelier’s glow in the Sidious Hall.
Zitri de Robilia.
Nox’s maid observed her master and sighed softly.
Once more, my master has stumbled.
It could be more precise to say the academy’s events ensnared him… Regardless, it’s undeniable that Nox was often at the epicenter.
He even asserted himself as the leader of the newcomers.
Such qualities were never displayed within his family. Why the sudden change?
I had to wrestle to suppress the question threatening to escape my lips.
“Whew….”
(Huuu)
Zitri regarded the slumbering Nox and shook her head.
Why does my master willingly court chaos?
This question has dominated her thoughts recently.
Simultaneously, a pulsing, twinge of guilt resonated in her heart.
‘I have failed yet again to stand by your side, to protect you…….’
As Nox’s maid, despite her slender frame and pristine uniform, she always strived to serve him diligently. However, Nox was inherently independent.
While this trait is commendable, it invariably attracts trouble.
Not to imply that he is as troublesome as perceived.
My master possesses an innate warmth.
He may not be an embodiment of justice or the ideal lord.
But he does exhibit compassion and refuses to abandon those in distress.
How such a person acquired the reputation of a scoundrel remains a mystery…
‘Society is ripe for rumors, and once they latch onto a flaw, denying them becomes futile.’
Avoidance is not an option.
It was commonplace for nobles to engage in verbal sparring or intimidation to safeguard their power, particularly in an Empire with weakening central authority.
‘Young Master, recent times have been tumultuous, and your indecision may pose a danger.’
Being nobility herself, Zitri was keenly aware of the prevailing political climate.
The nation was teetering on the brink. The Emperor’s allies, the Imperialists, were striving to subdue the Dark Houses, which included the Holy Family.
The Dark House, in turn, aimed to assassinate the Emperor to ensure its survival.
Each faction stood ready, their fangs bared.
Zitri was unsure where her young master would align himself.
Ultimately, the decision rested with Nox, but she yearned to shield him from falling ill.
Just as she had been marred by political strife, Nox was similarly vulnerable.
For the time being, she held her breath while attending the Academy, hoping for eventual independence within the Chasers.
That, Zitri believed, would be ideal.
“And in such a scenario, you’d inevitably dissolve your engagement to Talia, wouldn’t you……?”
She voiced her thoughts aloud.
Surprised at her own audacity, Zitri glanced around and then back at the sleeping Nox.
Fortunately
The entire circumstance was teetering on chaos.
I endeavored to ensure everyone’s safety, and thankfully, I prevailed.
Thus, this moment of respite is well-earned!
‘Now is the time for genuine rest. Upon awakening, a multitude of tasks will await… but for the present moment, rest is my priority.’
With this resolution in mind, I took a deep, calming breath.
I sealed my eyes against the tumult of the world. As my eyelids fell, my consciousness began to drift away.
It shimmered like a vulnerable flame, gradually extinguishing.
My thoughts, stretched thin since the possession, began to unwind.
Before I knew it, I succumbed to sleep.
If there’s such a thing as proper rest, this was it. However, if you were to ask me whether restful sleep is possible amidst pain…
I disagree.
* * *
Her vibrant, flowing green hair and porcelain-white skin radiated transparently under the chandelier’s light in the grandeur of Sidious Hall.
Zitri de Robilia.
Nox’s maid cast a look at her master and let out a faint sigh.
Once again, my master had stumbled.
Or perhaps more accurately, he’d been ensnared by the unfolding events at the Academy… yet it was undeniable that Nox was often at the epicenter.
He’d even appointed himself the leader of the newcomers.
Such traits were never evident within his family. Why now?
I fought to suppress the question yearning to break free from my lips.
“Sigh….”
(Huuu)
Zitri gazed at the sleeping Nox and shook her head.
Why does my master court danger?
This question had lately become her primary concern.
Simultaneously, she experienced a palpable pang of guilt.
‘I failed once again to stand by your side, to protect you properly…….’
Despite her slender build and pristine uniform, Nox’s maid was ever attentive to her master. However, Nox was innately independent.
While such freedom is admirable, it undeniably invites trouble.
That’s not to say he was as problematic as perceived.
My master, in essence, was warm-hearted.
He was neither an embodiment of justice nor an ideal lord.
Yet he exhibited compassion and never disregarded those suffering.
How such a character garnered a reputation as a scoundrel remains a mystery…
‘In society, rumors spread like wildfire, and when they latch onto a vulnerability, they’re impossible to dispel.’
Avoidance is futile.
It was commonplace for nobles to engage in duels of words or threats to maintain their influence, especially in an Empire where the central authority was dwindling.
‘The recent times have been turbulent, Young Master, and your indecision could put you in danger.’
As a noble herself, Zitri was well aware of the unfolding political scenario.
The nation teetered on a precipice. The Emperor’s allies, the Imperialists, were exerting their force to subdue the Dark Houses, including the Holy Family.
In contrast, the Dark House sought the Emperor’s death to ensure their survival.
Each faction was ready. Teeth bared in a tense stalemate.
Zitri was unsure where her young master would choose to stand.
The decision lay with Nox, but she longed to shield him from falling ill.
Just as the political battles had scarred her, Nox could also be a casualty.
For the time being, she held her breath while navigating the Academy, hoping for eventual autonomy within the Chasers.
In Zitri’s mind, that would be ideal.
“And if that happens, you’ll likely dissolve your engagement to Talia, won’t you……?”
She found herself speaking aloud.
Zitri found herself awash with disbelief, still echoing her recent words. She glanced at Nox, deep in slumber.
Thankfully, Nox’s rest was peaceful and untroubled.
Yet, she was troubled by a lingering question.
“Why am I so invested in your engagement?”
Odd.
As a maid, there was no apparent reason for her to be concerned about his engagement.
Furthermore, it was established that his de facto fiancée, Talia von Steiner, was no villain.
Nox, on the other hand, seemed quite indifferent…
If the decision is mandated by those above, resistance would be futile. Except for the eldest, noble lineage is typically reserved for political maneuvering.
This explains why she was traded as she was, and why she lost her family name.
‘……I’m unsure.’
Rising from her chair, Zitri fanned her slightly flushed face. She then soaked a cloth in ice water, wrung it out, and gently placed it on Nox’s forehead.
Regardless of her emotional turmoil, she had a responsibility at hand.
To attend to her Master.
“Young Master, you can’t fall ill again. Your frailty is beginning to show, as if your heart is ready to leap out. Your daily mishaps are becoming more frequent, though unintended, of course…….”
She patted his chest gently as she spoke.
Suddenly, she found herself lightly teasing him about his frequent blunders. A rare smile graced Zitri’s lips.
“Young master…? Are you asleep?”
With those words, Zitri edged closer to Nox.
She peered at him, reaching a finger towards his cheek.
“Mmmm….”
A soft muffled scream escaped her lips as she leaned forward, intending to poke his face…
She stumbled, falling forward onto the bed.
Zitri realized, with a jolt, that Nox’s face was mere centimeters from hers.
She drew in a sharp breath.
“…Hot!”
In that instant, a soft blush bloomed on Zitri’s cheeks.
The inevitable.
His flaring nostrils were in slumber, and slightly parted, pale red lips.
The crowning touch – his forehead, just visible beneath a spill of grey hair.
‘… That’s unfair.’
Nox is undeniably handsome, and his recent intense training has enhanced his physique.
Firstly, his broadening shoulders accommodate his hair on either side, creating an imposing presence that is evident even beneath his attire.
In more ways than one, it proved to be overwhelming for a teenage girl.
‘I must tread carefully… He’s intimidating….’
Zitri pulled a face, then jabbed her finger into Nox’s cheek, this time successfully. It was a precise aim for the cheek.
She was not one to make the same mistake twice.
* * *
The following day, thanks to Zitri’s diligent care and my increasing vitality, I recovered earlier than expected.
I am currently in a shop in District 4 with a singular purpose.
It’s time to tailor my school attire.
“Indeed, although the uniforms’ design and fabric vary slightly depending on the dormitory, I, Fuller, must attest that they are all undoubtedly exquisite!”
“Naturally, the attire worn by the nobility is even more exquisite! Predominantly, the shirts are white, and the ties are blue, creating a harmonious color scheme when paired with the jacket…….”
Introducing Tailor Puller. {1}
This man, seemingly in his mid-thirties, praises the school uniforms. Once a chief designer at Talon Feather, he recently established his own shop on the Academy grounds.
Anyway, that is the situation.
To clarify, here’s what he disclosed.
Commoners wear red ties, and nobles wear blue.
Depending on the commoners’ financial standing, the red tie is less expensive, while the blue is pricier.
The level of magic imbued also varies.
The rationale behind this color coding is quite simple.
Here in the Arkheim Empire, red symbolizes subjugation.
Blue, however, represents pure-blooded nobility.
Such minute distinctions. Frankly, it’s a tad inconvenient, but it’s beyond my control.
The Arkheim Empire, after all, is an aristocracy.
Of course, as the Academy narrative unfolds, merit will increasingly overshadow these trivialities, so patience is necessary.
The concept of discriminating based on one’s attire, leading to feelings of intimidation or empowerment, is rather absurd.
But,
I can’t voice such opinions.
Now, I am part of the old aristocracy.
By that standard, I should take offense at the mere thought of sharing a design with the commoners.
…Ha. The idea leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
Somewhere, a bitter aftertaste lingers.
“Anyway, let’s proceed with your measurements, and I’ll continue to elaborate on the nuances of the school uniforms…….”
“Just take the measurements accurately. No explanation needed.”
“…Okay.”
Disappointment seeped into Puller’s nod at my curt command.
He’d been eager to flaunt his luxurious designs, but his enthusiasm was abruptly curbed. Usually, it would be polite to indulge him, but… I’ve heard enough.
It’s more embarrassing for him, after all.
“Shuchen, why don’t you assist Master Knox with his measurements?”
“Certainly, Mr. Puller!”
Enter Shuchen.
A secondary character, whose name doesn’t readily spring to mind, trots over to me. It appears she’s tasked with the measuring duties.
But… why her?
The girl before me gasps, staggering back a step.
“Ah! Manager Puller, that’s…”
She murmurs to her supervisor.
“Who is this striking customer…?”
“White hair, lavender eyes. There’s only one family it could be.”
“… Seriously? The notorious scion of Reinhafer… My apologies for the oversight. I will conduct your measurements, so please head to the changing room to remove your upper garments.”
“Excuse me?”
It’s Zitri who recoils at the abrupt request to disrobe.
She glances about apprehensively.
“Do I need to remove all my upper clothing?”
“Uh, yes, we’ve obtained your waist measurements, but your upper garments require precise fitting due to the significant magical elements!
Moreover, shirts are typically in direct contact with the skin and…….”
“……”
A frustrated voice echoes in the background, muttering, “This isn’t a factory.”
Why would a place where tailors construct garments resonate with such sentiments…?
I ponder the question briefly, then dismiss it. My primary focus should be on my uniform. Considering my recovery, rest should also be prioritized.
Frankly, I can’t wait to return to my dormitory…
“…I’ll handle it.”
At that moment, Zitri seizes the measuring tape from the tailor, her voice firm.
“I will measure the top.”
“You, Zitri?”
My confused question is met with a mildly exasperated response from Zitri.
“Do you object to me assisting, Young Master?”
Certainly not.
I suddenly wanted to voice that sentiment, but my stubborn pride prevented it.
Well, I suppose anyone can take measurements.
I nod in agreement.
Little did I know, this would mark the onset of a tumultuous episode…
{1} : pyulleo – which can also be translated as something a little sus.
Author actin a little sus on this one ngl
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