Chapter 25
The Door That Distinguishes Friend from Foe
Thanks to the charm attached above the door, we can now tell whether someone visiting our house is an ally or an enemy.
Of course, if I said it was my charm that did it, I might accidentally be declared a saint and dragged off to the church, so officially it’s credited to Moko’s growth.
Moko, who used to look like a little tuft of white fluff, has grown quickly by absorbing my magic power, and now she’s about the size of a small dog.
It’s like she evolved from a white version of “Soot Sprite” into a miniature Totoro.
Moko is a type of spirit known as a “Fuzzball.” No other of her kind has ever grown this large, so everyone decided it’s fine to just attribute it to her mysterious power.
It’s a bit of a stretch, but since the thread used to embroider the charm’s symbols is made from Moko’s fur, it’s not completely untrue.
Lately, the maids have started a trend of searching for Moko’s shed fur during their cleaning rounds.
But… Moko isn’t a dog or a cat, so she shouldn’t shed at all—
—or so I thought. Turns out she does!
The shed fur doesn’t seem to have any special power like the kind used in embroidery, but the maids still put it into pouches and carry it around as lucky charms.
Honestly, I think Moko just gives them to the maids she likes.
After all, the maids who have her fur are always the ones who pet her gently or sneak her sweets when no one’s looking.
Before I knew it, Moko had become the Rosenberg family’s beloved pet.
Still, I’m grateful—thanks to her, we’ve been able to keep an eye on everything happening around the mansion.
And with the charm’s success, Moko has basically been elevated to “house guardian” status.
“It might start a craze for Fuzzball hunting,” Serios-oniisama said elegantly as he lifted his teacup. “But since they only live in dragon nests, catching one would be nearly impossible. Normally, they just shrink and disappear before anyone notices.”
I had been watching his beautiful tea-drinking gesture in a daze, but then that ominous phrase—“shrink and disappear”—snapped me to attention.
“Disappear?”
I couldn’t help but stroke the fluffy Moko resting on my lap.
She seemed to like it, and I could feel the emotion “this feels nice” gently flow through my palm.
But when I thought, What if Moko disappears someday?, I heard her small voice in my head say, “It’s okay. I won’t disappear.”
Moko doesn’t talk much, but when it matters, she always lets me know how she feels.
“Judging from Moko’s growth, she probably gets bigger by absorbing magic power,” said my brother thoughtfully. “If other Fuzzballs vanish, maybe it’s because they didn’t have enough magic to sustain them. Perhaps if we give one to a child with excess magic, it could stabilize their power instead of letting it explode.”
I tilted my head, thinking about it.
“That might work when they’re small, but maybe not once they grow up.”
After all, without the Holy Sword’s help, I probably wouldn’t have made it this far either.
In the end, we still need to go to the place where the golden lycoris blooms—the site of the Holy Sword—to create a proper cure.
But that’s in Miranda’s territory.
And Miranda, thanks to the friend-or-foe charm, can no longer enter the Rosenberg estate.
My brother said he sometimes lets obvious enemies like Miranda inside on purpose to observe them, so she’ll probably show up again someday. But going into her territory myself is definitely impossible right now.
I thought about pretending it was for my “recovery,” but since Father and Brother were just attacked, that excuse is off the table for a while.
Ugh, what a dilemma.
“So… are you planning to collapse again?”
That was the sudden interjection of the prince—who had shown up unannounced.
He calls himself my brother’s best friend and my friend too, so he dropped by under the pretense of “visiting the sick.”
At least this time, unlike during my birthday party, he didn’t ditch his guards to sneak out. But still—if you’re coming, at least send word first!
He’s the crown prince, after all. You’d think he’d care about security…
My brother, amused, decided to have him try the friend-or-foe door.
To everyone’s surprise, he walked right through it.
Brother looked a bit disappointed—he had clearly been hoping for some dramatic reaction.
But honestly, his expression at that moment was so adorably cool that it made the prince’s unannounced visit completely forgivable.
“Maybe?” I said, tilting my head slightly.
Prince Elvin leaned forward in alarm.
“Isn’t there anything we can do to prevent that?”
Wait—does the prince seriously not know about magic overload?
Given that the royal family is full of naturally high-magic people, you’d think they’d know that children born with too much magic are prone to that condition.
I mean, he looks great on the outside, but this prince… can be kind of a doofus.
He’s much less arrogant than when we first met, but sometimes he’s just so clueless about the basics.
Is he even studying properly?
I sighed inwardly, thinking it’d be annoying to explain, but my brother graciously stepped in to handle the explanation.
Ah—sorry for troubling you, dear brother.
“I see… So children with excess magic can’t live long…”
The prince looked at me with such pity that I almost burst out laughing.
Please. I fully intend to survive—mainly to make sure my brother doesn’t become the final boss. There’s nothing to worry about.
“Of course, we’re doing research toward a permanent cure,” my brother continued. “By the way, the flower you brought as a bookmark for Letty’s birthday—the one I’d never seen before—does it only bloom in the royal palace?”
“That? Perhaps. My stepmother grows them with great care.”
“If possible, could you spare a single plant? I’d like to test it as an ingredient for the cure.”
“O-oh! Of course! Leave it to me!”
The prince thumped his chest proudly, thrilled to be of help.
It wasn’t the golden lycoris, but the lycoris flower he mentioned has always been a key motif in the story. There must be some hidden power in it.
To think it would come up now—trust my brother to make it happen!
Yes! That’s it!
Now we’ve got the lycoris flower—success!
