When the brothers burst into the study, practically kicking the door down, their father, the count, reprimanded them in a stern voice.
“Did you feed Arianju?”
This was the highest priority in the household.
“Ah!” they exclaimed in unison, realizing their mistake.
One brother quickly carried Arianju back to the dining hall, while the other remained to deliver the urgent reports to their father.
* * *
Ten days later, Arianju found herself at the grand mansion of the kingdom’s foremost duke.
The estate was adorned with pillars carved into reliefs of the four seasonal goddesses, floors of immaculate white marble, and luxurious furnishings. In the gilded reception room, Arianju sat properly on a red velvet chair, her small body straight and her face composed in her best “formal” expression.
“Is it true that my son Kaisas’ magical hypertrophy can be cured?” the duke asked. He was dressed impeccably, wearing a silk shirt and a navy vest that emphasized his robust build. His jet-black hair matched the traits of a black wolf beastfolk. His voice carried a mix of resignation from past failures and a glimmer of hope.
“Yes. I explained the situation to a friend who tried the treatment on her own son with magical hypertrophy. Within days, it showed results, and as my daughter said, it’s expected to fully cure him within a month,” Arianju’s father, the count, replied earnestly.
The duke nodded fervently, his hope rekindled.
While the duke and the count engaged in an intense discussion, Arianju exceeded her daily limit for staying awake. Despite her best efforts to stay alert in the prestigious surroundings, her fatigue overwhelmed her.
Recalling her promise to her brothers to sleep in a proper bed and avoid drinking that dreaded green juice, she sluggishly made her way to the adjacent room. Her slow, deliberate movements often drew little attention.
In the next room, a luxurious bed awaited, but it was already occupied by a boy.
The faint scent of roses wafted through the slightly open window, blending seamlessly with the sunlit room’s warm yet shadowy atmosphere.
“Hello. May I sleep here with you?” Arianju asked, though she didn’t wait for an answer. She climbed into the bed and fell asleep almost instantly, her soft snores filling the air.
“W-who are you? Aren’t you afraid to be this close to me?” the boy stammered.
The boy was Kaisas, the duke’s son, suffering from magical hypertrophy. He lived in seclusion, avoiding others because his illness caused his body to bloat grotesquely due to the accumulation of uncirculated magic. People feared and shunned him, mistakenly believing the disease to be contagious.
“Hey, I’m warning you. I have magical hypertrophy. You might catch it,” Kaisas said nervously.
Still half-asleep, Arianju snuggled closer to him.
“It’s not contagious. It’s a curable disease, and there’s a treatment,” she mumbled groggily.
“What?”
Kaisas was stunned, but the warmth of Arianju’s presence and her adorable, peaceful expression made him smile despite himself. It had been so long since he felt human contact—so long since someone had treated him with kindness.
0 Comments