MLWDP CH 03

Chapter 3

“Ugh…”

Now that Idette had decided she wanted to live, a new fear crept in.

If she survived, wouldn’t that change the original story? But then she thought—so what?

She was just an extra character anyway.

Would the whole story really collapse if a side character lived a little longer?

Even if it did change things, she could always step aside at the right time.

Her life came first.

So before anything else, she needed to confirm something: How skilled were these so-called apothecaries from the slums?

“Hey, you.”

Idette pushed open the door and walked up to the maids she had overheard gossiping earlier.

They froze, startled, and quickly shut their mouths.

“Ah, m-my lady. D-do you need something?”

“You said Bibi was sick.”

“You… you heard us? We’re sorry! Truly sorry! We shouldn’t have gossiped while working. Please forgive us!”

The maids turned pale and fell to the floor in fright.

But Idette wasn’t here to scold them.

“I’m not here to punish you for gossiping.”

“T-then…?”

“Bring me the apothecary. From the slums.”

“W-what?”

“I want to see one myself.”

The maids’ eyes went wide with shock.

Then, misunderstanding, they scrambled lower to the ground, as if she had come up with this punishment just for them.

That wasn’t it at all.

Idette sighed.

“Fine. Then take me to see Bibi.”

She wanted to check on the girl who had suddenly collapsed—see what kind of sickness it was.

“Eh?”

The maids exchanged uneasy glances, but eventually nodded.

“We’ll… we’ll go call her here—”

“No. She’s the sick one. I’ll go to her.”

“My lady, please! The servants’ quarters are dirty and unfit for you. You shouldn’t trouble yourself for just a maid. We’ll fetch her.”

They spoke quickly, trying to stop her.

“Hm. No. I’ll go.”

“My lady…”

The maids looked like they wanted to cry, but Idette wouldn’t back down.

At last, they had no choice but to guide her.

“Th-this way, my lady.”

It wasn’t a long walk, but Idette was already exhausted.

Her weak body made even walking a chore.

“Hah…”

She stepped into the small quarters and spotted Bibi lying pale on a narrow bed.

“She just collapsed suddenly?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“What symptoms?”

“She has a high fever and muscle aches. She also keeps running to the latrine all night because of vomiting and diarrhea. Her roommate Anna complained she couldn’t sleep from all the groaning.”

A kitchen maid, if Idette remembered correctly.

“Could it be food poisoning?”

“But none of the rest of us are sick. They already checked the ingredients. Nothing seemed wrong.”

Idette narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t a doctor, but something about it seemed familiar.

It looked a lot like the food poisoning she’d suffered in her past life. Most likely some kind of intestinal infection.

“And Bibi refused to see the apothecary?”

“Yes. Apothecaries are… well, they’re considered unholy. People say they use wicked powers, even that they bring the dead back to life like black magicians.”

“Wicked powers, huh…”

Raising the dead was impossible, of course. More likely, apothecaries had managed to save people on the brink of death, and rumors had twisted from there.

“What do you usually do when you get sick, then?”

“…We just endure it. If we live, it means the gods showed mercy. If we die… then it was fate.”

Idette’s lips parted. That’s it?

Before she regained her memories, she hadn’t thought much about the servants’ lives.

She wasn’t a cruel master, but she never really paid attention.

She assumed, as a noble, that anyone sick could just receive healing. But for commoners, that wasn’t true at all.

“To say it’s fate if you die without divine healing…”

“My lady?”

“That’s not right.”

She turned back toward Bibi.

“I want her to be treated.”

“…You mean—you’ll summon a priest?”

The maids’ eyes lit with hope.

“No.”

“…Then… what treatment do you mean… D-don’t tell me…”

“I already told you. Bring an apothecary.”

The two maids stared at each other again, looking utterly lost. But when they tried to kneel to beg for forgiveness again, Idette quickly pulled them up.

“I’m not punishing you for gossiping.”

“Y-you’re serious? You truly want an apothecary to treat Bibi?”

They looked at her like she’d gone mad.

But Idette wasn’t doing this with bad intentions. She simply wanted to see with her own eyes what an apothecary could do.

If Bibi improved, maybe she could seek their help too.

“Don’t tell my parents.”

Idette’s voice dropped to a whisper. The maids’ faces went white.

“We’re accomplices now.”

“W-what?!”

“If you don’t bring one, I won’t forgive you.”

“O-oh, my lady…”

Of course she didn’t mean it literally. But the maids, terrified of losing their jobs, nodded quickly.

Better to risk being “accomplices” than face dismissal.

***

After giving her orders to find an apothecary, Idette’s body gave out again.

“It’s been a while, Lady Idette.”

“…Yes.”

It was the day a priest came for her regular healing.

After her last terrible fever, the priests had admitted divine power no longer seemed effective on her. But her parents still couldn’t give up hope and kept calling them.

“How is your health?”

“…It’s fine.”

Truthfully, after visiting Bibi, her body had crashed with another high fever. She was better now, but far from fine.

This frail body… Idette sighed.

“I’m relieved. Last time, your fever was quite severe.”

“I see.”

But divine healing had its limits. Not every noble could receive it endlessly.

Each person had only a certain number of times they could accept divine power—some only once, others for a lifetime.

Idette had been unusually lucky to handle it so many times already.

The priests had even once suggested she might become a priestess herself.

For most nobles, that would be an honor. But Idette’s fragile health had made it impossible.

“Mm.”

As usual, the priest placed divine power upon her.

But this time was different. Nothing happened. Normally she would feel lighter, but today—nothing.

The priest’s expression darkened.

“…As we feared. Lady Idette, it seems your limit for divine healing has been reached.”

The words struck like a death sentence.

“There is nothing more we can do with divine power to heal you.”

For nobles who relied on divine healing, it meant only one thing: she had little time left to live.

“What? Priest, what do you mean she cannot be healed?!”

Of course her parents reacted like the world had collapsed.

“We’re sorry. It is only our lack of ability.”

“…Oh.”

But Idette only let out a quiet sound of wonder—strangely calm.