The Villainous Young Lady Would Even Risk Her Life for Her Beloved ～ Her Fiancé, the Prince? By All Means, Please Be Happy with the Heroine! - Chapter 1.41

In the end, I spent the entire day at the infirmary. Neither Gauche nor Frey had fully recovered their magical energy after treating the severely injured patients brought in the previous day. And given my uncle’s educational policy of hands-on training, there could hardly be a better place for it.

(I should have worn the outfit Lord Finley gave me…)

Although they didn’t know exactly who I was, it seemed people understood I was a noble from somewhere. They approached for treatment with cautious hesitation. Of course, it was only natural, considering a knight of the House of Lias was watching over me like a hawk.

Most patients were deeply concerned about the cost of treatment. When I assured them that the price wouldn’t change, they visibly relaxed. Some underestimated me, thinking I was just a child, but after seeing the results—their healed wounds—they sincerely apologized. That surprised me.

“There aren’t any critically injured patients here, are there?”

Most of those I treated had moderately deep cuts, burns, or symptoms of poisoning. Many were moderate injuries, few had light wounds. It seemed few people had the luxury to pay for treatment for minor injuries.

“If you suffer a serious wound in the monster forest, it’s as good as a death sentence.”

“I see…”

The knight from House Lias explained. He said he used to be an adventurer. At one point, he was considering becoming a mercenary but was recruited as a soldier for the House of Lias instead.

“For adventurers, their bodies are their livelihood. So surprisingly, many avoid reckless behavior. If you value your life, you must never overestimate your abilities.”

“That applies to us as well, doesn’t it?”

He smiled kindly and said, “Indeed it does.”

◇◇◇

“We found a journal with detailed notes on Kimoma!”

“Someone’s keeping the larvae extracted from a patient with Ice-Stone Disease!”

“I met an adventurer who operated for years in the northern territories!”

“The effect is weak, but we might be able to get our hands on some potion!”

Everyone seemed to have achieved notable results today. But they couldn’t possibly outdo me.

“I discovered the cause of Lord Fred’s symptoms and a treatment method!”

“Whaaat!?”

“But… the problem is the treatment. Even experienced healers would need special training, I think.”

At dinner, everyone leaned forward eagerly. The most excited of all—ironically—was the Margrave, who until now hadn’t seemed particularly invested.

“H-How exactly!?”

I began by explaining the general cause—taking great care to emphasize that the dedicated healer, Gauche, bore no fault. Without him, Fred would surely be in much worse condition. But perhaps I overstressed the point, because—

“Of course we understand that.”

—the Margravine swiftly admonished me.

“Now, as for the actual treatment…”

I described the example Frey and Gauche had shared regarding bone injuries.

Apparently, in such cases, the bone is intentionally broken again, then set properly in place and healed with magic.

(A reset, basically…)

For burns, they do something similar—deliberately wounding the affected area again to stimulate proper healing.

“That’s quite the extreme measure.”

Luca, coming from a family of healers, understood just how risky this was. It would take considerable resolve from both the healer and the patient.

“So for Lord Fred, the idea is to reopen the place where magic is leaking and then repair it?”

“Yes. The injury must be re-inflicted and treated anew. But I doubt any healer has ever performed such a treatment before.”

We knew how to break it, and how to heal it—but not both at once. It wasn’t something we could do on the fly; it would require careful preparation.

First, we’d need to identify exactly where the magical energy was leaking. Based on my uncle’s letter, I was optimistic we’d manage, so I wasn’t too worried about that part.

Suddenly, there was a loud crash as the Margrave collapsed back into his chair.

“Father!?”

I rushed to his side, using healing magic to examine his condition. His heart was pounding loudly, but nothing seemed seriously wrong.

“Ah… n-no, it’s just… to think a solution was truly found… and by children not yet even eleven… I… I’m so sorry…”

He still couldn’t believe a way to save Fred had been discovered.

When bad things happen, it often feels like everything spirals downward. But the reverse can also be true—when good things come, they can arrive all at once.

By midday the next day, Fred returned to the domain of Lias, wearing a joyful expression.

“We found the spot where the magic was leaking. Lord Luke is truly remarkable!”

It seemed that even for my uncle, it had been an incredibly difficult task. After completing the examination, he had apparently been unsteady on his feet from sheer exhaustion.

“It required a tremendous amount of concentration. It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything that taxing. Clearly, I still have room to improve.”

He still intends to hone his skills further…?

The area where magic was leaking happened to be right around the heart—a place believed to contain the so-called magical storage organ.

“I-I was casting healing magic directly on that area…”

Gauche’s voice was filled with regret.

“Please, Gauche, stop. Without you, I would have never flown on a wyvern again.”

Was it the injection point used to burst the parasite inside his body that had ruptured? Given that Fred is the heir, the pressure on Gauche as a healer must have been enormous. He likely approached the task with fierce determination.

“So then, Lord Fred, about what comes next…”

“I’ve heard everything from my parents. I can’t thank you enough for discovering a method to help me!”

“Then… it might still take a little more time—will that be alright?”

I started to worry—had I given him false hope too soon?

“I understand! It all feels like a dream… To think there’s actually a way to be healed…”

Could it be… Fred and the Margrave couple had been humoring us this entire time? That they had already resigned themselves to his fate—and we had insensitively dug up old wounds by clinging to hope?

If that’s the case… then I must take responsibility. Properly.