“P-please wait, Cyril! My butt and my thighs. My rear end is cramping!” I shouted that without thinking when I felt pain suddenly shoot through those body parts.
Then Cyril, who’d been supporting me at the waist, said, “Maybe we should call it quits? You’re not even supposed to get out of bed, you know?” He sighed.
I still didn’t give up.
I clung to Cyril’s military uniform as I slowly lowered myself to the soft carpet.
“I can still move my arms. If I hold on to you like this, I can get on one knee at least—Myfilaaa! Get off my back! I’m soft as a cicada straight from the cocoon!”
“Feil, your muscles feel soft as a slime,” she said.
“’Course they do, my muscle fibers are all messed up! You haven’t got to call it out!”
Right then, my left knee had touched down on the carpet, but this time, I couldn’t let go of Cyril’s pants. I couldn’t even hold myself up with my own strength on my knee. I couldn’t flex my muscles at all.
I gingerly let go of Cyril’s pants and almost fell over, then reclaimed my hold on him.
“It’s a pretty light price to pay for overdosing on dragon’s blood, though. You should be thanking Myfila.”
“I’m— That was close. I’m very aware of that. Still, a complete recovery’s gonna take a whole month. I’m all broken up about this stuff. Can’t even take a bath on my own for a while.”
“Like I said, I’ll take care of you.”
“I don’t even get to keep my dignity.”
“Cyril, I could help Feil with his baths, too,” Myfila offered.
“Sorry, but the law says opposite genders aren’t allowed to help with bathing until you’re at least twenty.”
“Plus, I feel like you won’t do a good job anyway.”
“Grr…”
It’d already been five days since the Angel-Eater of Silver had appeared in the summons festival at Raddermark.
I was wearing the required conjurer’s robes of the Academy, but I was actually fully bandaged up underneath.
That’d been a side effect of overdosing on Myfila’s magic tonic.
Even after using up your magic, you could use dragon’s blood to force yourself to replenish, but because I’d done so too many times in such a short period, my muscles, which were the storehouse of the magic, had surpassed their limits. I’d basically strained and caused small hemorrhages all over my body. If I didn’t have the bandages holding everything together, I might not have even looked a humanoid shape.
The only parts of me that were up and ready to go were above the neck.
“Even His Majesty is going to smile out of pity, Feil.”
“Are you saying I look like I’m worse for wear? Because I am. If you had any idea how hard I’m working just to stay on one knee right now…”
A large gauze eyepatch also covered my eye, and I still hadn’t regained sight in it.
I was injured and wounded.
No matter how anyone looked at me, I shouldn’t have been out of bed.
At that moment, I was in a guest room within the land of Shidoh’s palace and was trying to practice greeting King Jikfrit Shidoh Zultania for when I’d have an audience with him.
“I think that’s enough, Feil. Sure, it’s a rule to go down on one knee in front of His Majesty, but it’s not an absolute. If you request it ahead of time, you’ll be allowed to forgo it.”
“I guess it’s time… If I’m strugglin’ this much, it’ll only be rude,” I grumbled at myself after working so hard at staying on one knee. Cyril swooped in right then. He wrapped a hand around my back and under my knees, easily picking me up—basically like how a groom picks up a bride. Then he carried me to a leather couch.
“He’d probably worry about you. His Majesty knew your condition when he called for you. The content of a conversation is much more important than any pomp and circumstance.”
I sank into the thick cushion of the couch, and the backing solidly took on my body weight so I could finally catch my breath.
“Haah…” I sighed as I turned my head to look over the large guest room.
The sunlight pierced through the magnificent window, where there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and hit the white walls of the room. The ceiling was tall. It was extravagant, but not gaudy. Flower motifs had been engraved into the walls and pillars, but oddly, nothing looked particularly flashy. It was pleasing to the eye and put me at ease.
Even the furnishings in the room—including the round table, chairs, and grand piano—all looked harmonious together. The winter blossoms in the vase by the window were probably the showiest part of the room.
“I don’t know what I’ll do if he wants to talk about Pandora, though…”
When I murmured that, Cyril started talking me through it from where he’d sat and crossed his legs on a chair. The old seat creaked under his tall physique.
“His Majesty is a summoner with ties to dragons. He won’t say anything cruel about it.”
“But he’s not going to be like ‘Great job stoppin’ the Angel-Eater’s path of destruction, thanks, you’re all good to go,’ right?”
“That would be— Well, you have a point.”
“He’ll say somethin’ or ask me somethin’. Either way, gives me a stomachache just thinkin’ ’bout it.”
Right then, Myfila plunked herself down next to me. She stared into my face and eventually said something that hit me right where it hurt.
“You can talk to the princess just fine, but her father makes you nervous?”
I smiled awkwardly.