Previously: Zenos and his group visited Charlotte, the daughter of one of the Seven Noble Families, for surgery on her acne-like growth.
“Wow, amazing…”
Cresson, upon stepping into Charlotte’s room—the daughter of Lord Fennel, one of the Seven Noble Families—couldn’t help but voice his awe.
A magnificent chandelier hung from the ceiling. The floor was polished marble, reflecting like a mirror. A vast green garden was visible through the large windows that stretched from floor to ceiling, and a four-poster bed, like something out of a princess’s tale, sat majestically in the center of the room.
The walls were adorned with pictures of a young girl dancing, as if at a ball.
“Those are photos taken with a magic projector. They’re expensive, you know,” Cresson whispered to Zenos.
Charlotte, sitting haughtily on the sofa, glared at the group while still wearing her mask. She had bright, curly chestnut hair and slightly upturned, strong-willed eyes. She looked to be about sixteen or seventeen years old.
“…So, is it true?”
“What is, Charlotte?” Lord Fennel, who doted on his daughter, asked, trying to appease her.
“This story about this bump turning into an old woman’s face if I leave it alone.”
“Yes, that’s right. It’s called a Kimen…” Cresson began to explain, but Charlotte immediately cut him off.
“You’re just an assistant. Don’t open your mouth. My noble room will be polluted by your bad breath.”
“Ugh…” Cresson bit his lip and looked at Zenos with teary eyes. Well, even if you look at me like that…
Goldrun cleared his throat and stepped forward.
“Yes, it’s true, my lady. It’s called a Kimenshu, and if left untreated, in about a month, a tumor resembling an old woman’s face will develop on your cheek.”
“…”
Charlotte, her face turning slightly pale, said, “W-what should I do?”
“The only way is to remove it surgically.”
“I don’t want my skin to be cut.”
“But…”
“I don’t want my skin cut! I don’t want it to hurt! And I don’t want the bump to stay!”
“What a selfish woman…” Cresson muttered, only loud enough for Zenos to hear.
Lord Fennel approached his daughter, trying to soothe her.
“Charlotte. It seems the tumor will grow larger if left untreated. Why don’t you trust the Professor and let him take care of it?”
“Papa, do you not care if my face becomes covered in scars?”
“Don’t worry. The Professor will heal the scars beautifully.”
Lord Fennel seemed to have a great deal of faith in Professor Goldrun. However, his daughter, looking displeased, said,
“What guarantee?”
“Guarantee…?”
“What guarantee is there that you’ll absolutely leave no scars? I won’t do it without that!”
Charlotte stood up from the sofa and rushed to the balcony.
“Charlotte…”
Lord Fennel pressed his forehead, and Goldrun looked at Zenos, tilting his chin slightly towards the balcony. It was a silent instruction for him to go after her.
Zenos shrugged slightly and opened the door leading to the balcony. It felt like he was playing tag with a child.
The spacious balcony had several birdcages lined up, with various kinds of birds chirping “tweet, tweet.” Charlotte was sitting in a chair in front of them, hugging her knees.
“Do you like birds?” Zenos asked.
Charlotte, keeping her eyes on the birdcages, replied, “I told you not to talk to me, you mere assistant. The room will be polluted by your breath.”
“This is a balcony, so your breath won’t be trapped here.”
“Hah, you’re splitting hairs. Who do you think I am—”
“One of them is injured.”
“…!”
Charlotte’s eyes finally turned to Zenos. Zenos took a small bird out of one of the cages.
“Its wing is broken. Was it attacked by a larger bird?”
“…I found it in the garden yesterday. It can’t fly anymore.”
“It’s like me,” Charlotte said quietly.
“If I get an old woman’s face on my cheek, I won’t be able to wear dresses. I won’t be able to dance at balls. No one will talk to me anymore. Why should I, of all people, have to go through this…”
“…”
Zenos, looking at Charlotte, who was burying her face in her knees, said, “Do you want to be cured of your illness?”
“Don’t talk to me anymore. Don’t get cocky just because I answered you a little.”
“I’ll ask you again. Do you want to be cured of your illness?”
Charlotte raised her head and glared at Zenos.
“Of course I do! But I don’t want any scars! I told you not to talk to me anymore. Who do you think I am?”
“A patient.”
“…”
Charlotte blinked at him, and Zenos continued.
“If you’re in trouble and want treatment, you’re my patient. It doesn’t matter if you’re royalty, nobility, a commoner, or a pauper.”
“…What?”
“And I am a healer. It’s a healer’s job to cure the patient’s illness.”
Zenos said this and raised his right hand high. From his palm, the injured bird took flight.
“Eh…?”
Zenos looked at Charlotte, whose eyes were wide with surprise.
“This one could fly. You want to dance again, don’t you?”
“…”
Charlotte, who had been staring at the bird disappearing into the sky, clenched her fists tightly.
Following Zenos, Charlotte returned to the room. Lord Fennel immediately approached his daughter and asked, “Charlotte, what will you do?”
“…I’ll do it,” she replied quietly.
After that, Charlotte turned a sharp gaze to everyone present.
“But if there’s a scar, I won’t forgive you. I’ll have Papa use his power to throw you in jail.”
Next to Cresson, who turned pale, Goldrun made a small sound in his throat and slowly nodded.
“Then, let’s prepare for the surgery.”