🍵🍵🍵
EMMA grabbed Glen’s other hand and dragged him to the infirmary, flying there in a panic. But nobody was inside. So many bottles of medicine lined the walls that it seemed out of place within the entity known as the Magic Academy. And a majority of it was oral medicine. The medical practitioner in charge of the infirmary would concoct a specific medicinal formula based on the student’s malady.
Special conjurers were only assigned to the school during events like mock tournaments. These witches and wizards used healing magic on such occasions. Otherwise, this infirmary operated much the same as a normal hospital because wounds required extraordinary magic to heal.
“It should be right around here.”
Without her noticing, Glen had taken the shards of glass out of his arm and reached for a bottle on one of the medicine shelves. His right hand hung limply by his side, blood still oozing. Emma’s face paled at the sight.
“Darn it! The injured should sit down posthaste,” she ordered. “I’ll tend to you.”
To her surprise, Glen obediently sat in one of the chairs. She quickly found medicinal herbs that would stop the bleeding, a salve, and a dressing. She was used to this kind of thing because she had been Annette’s de facto caretaker since the other girl would often hurt herself out of clumsiness. Which reminds me… When a particular incident came to mind, Emma tried asking him about it.
“Our first year… You fixed my burned hair, didn’t you? Does that mean you can heal wounds, too?”
“So you didn’t forget. Well, I used special magic back then. I don’t use it on just anyone, you see.”
Emma pressed a clean, soft square of fabric onto the back of his hand to stop the bleeding. Though she succeeded in controlling the trembling of her hands, she nevertheless felt heat rising in her cheeks. Glen’s tone had been extremely matter-of-fact.
Then what does it mean that you used it on me? Despite the thought, she couldn’t string together a reply because of his incredibly gentle tone combined with his straightforward words. She was smart enough not to pursue this.
“Aside from the lid flying off there at the end, your last attempt was going pretty well,” he said.
“I thought so, too. But as long as I keep relying on your counsel at pivotal moments, I’ll never succeed. Because it means I can’t make calm, rational judgments on my own yet.”
“Well, well… I think you’re finally understanding the trick to it.”
Emma heard the smile in his voice, but she refused to look up at his face as she tended to him. She carefully removed the cloth and applied the salve to his skin, holding his hand gently in one of hers. His hand was cool, the same temperature as hers. Once she finished that step, she moved on to the next, wrapping the dressing around his arm. The sibilant sound of the fabric rustling against itself as she wound it around and around reverberated in the quiet infirmary.
“You know… There’s one thing I’ve been wondering all this time… How in the world did I even end up with an affinity for all the elements?” Emma asked.
“I wracked my brain on that for a long time as well… Does a member of the Ulster imperial family appear anywhere in your bloodline? If one does, then heredity would be a logical conclusion,” he said.
“Not a single trace. If I had, wouldn’t you know?”
“Not necessarily. Unlike Reauxvil and Olano, the Empire of Ulster has an incredibly long history, much longer than either of these vassal states. That’s why many people can trace their lineages back to the royal line. Moreover, to maintain the superiority of the bloodline, it’s not unusual for relatives to marry each other. For example, my mother. She’s a descendant of a younger prince in the royal family, albeit one from five generations ago.”
“I see…”
It seemed that when Glen married, it would be to a young lady from a family with blood ties to the Ulster royal family. Though she harbored this faint suspicion for some time, pain still lanced through the depths of her heart. The dressing felt heavier now than it had a moment ago. Yet she silently continued her ministration.
“The special magic I mentioned reacts to blood,” Glen explained. “I wouldn’t be surprised to learn if it activates upon encountering someone with hereditary ties to the Ulster royal family.”
“And I’m telling you that’s not possible,” she snipped. “Because I was born here in Reauxvil, as the daughter of Viscount Seagrove.”
Emma hadn’t looked up once the whole time, and she finished wrapping the bandage around his hand.