Chapter 33
⚔️ Revolutionary Army Outpost
At the new revolutionary army outpost.
Etias sat with furrowed brows, lost in complicated thoughts.
“…That can’t be.”
His voice, as if denying something, slipped quietly from his lips.
“Katrin Elemoer…”
On his desk were notes from his supporter.
“……”
In his mind, the image of those violet eyes gasping under him in his dreams grew vivid.
Like alternating spring breezes and storms, the seasons and weather within his heart were changing dozens of times each minute.
If this handwriting was real.
If that dream hadn’t been just a dream.
If even that clumsy, trembling sneer she gave while cupping his cheek hadn’t been mockery.
“……”
No, he couldn’t be sure yet.
Etias shook his head.
He knew well what kind of woman Katrin Elemoer was.
During their academy days, even when she made cruel, biting remarks disguised as confessions, her lips would always curl into a mocking smirk.
Of course, the Katrin Elemoer he had been facing again recently still lived up to her infamous reputation with her arrogance. But he had come to realize she wasn’t quite the type of villainess he had imagined.
That confession back then… could it have been genuine? Such useless thoughts crossed his mind because she had a uniqueness he couldn’t deny.
The more he got involved with her, the more he felt an unexplainable discomfort within himself as she occupied his thoughts.
“……”
His eyes scanned once more between Katrin’s handwriting and that of the supporter.
Her smooth and neat handwriting didn’t match the thorny, scarring insults she used to fling at him.
It was an unusual script. But it wasn’t decisive proof.
For now, he could only keep this small possibility in mind and investigate further.
Pressing the bridge of his nose, Etias tried to calm his tangled feelings.
At some point, he had longed to grab that delicate wrist and ask her everything. Those raging emotions were now coiling into expectations he couldn’t suppress.
Like a young boy whose blood boils just seeing trembling leaves, a longing he couldn’t name clawed at him from within.
Colok—
Trying to shake off these thoughts, he turned his gaze toward the window. Outside, men’s coughing could be heard.
Lately, many people were coughing in the streets and even within the government offices.
Those living communally were especially vulnerable to contagious diseases, and just a few days ago, Karon had created special hygiene protocols to separate the infected from the healthy.
Despite that, this strong virus seemed to be spreading widely, with more revolutionary soldiers falling ill.
“Karon.”
Leaving his room, Etias opened the door at the end of the corridor and found Karon and a few revolutionary soldiers curled up and sleeping.
The patients were kept in one room, but this corridor-end room was particularly cold, unfit for the sick.
“Your cough sounds bad. Are you alright?”
Karon, his face flushed with fever, was shivering under his blanket.
“I-I’m fine, Your Highness. Please, don’t worry and rest.”
Etias looked at Karon and the other awakened soldiers.
“Tonight, change rooms. All of you, come sleep in my room.”
Karon abruptly sat up, protesting.
“That can’t be, Your Highness! What if you get sick too?! Colok!”
“He’s right. You need a warm room, Your Highness.”
“We’re fine here. It’s just chills…”
Even while sick, the soldiers rejected his orders to protect their lord.
But Etias’s sharp eyes flashed as he spoke again.
“That’s an order. Everyone up.”
His firm, unyielding voice left no room for argument.
“…Your Highness.”
Knowing his master’s personality well, Karon realized persuasion was useless. He wobbled to his feet and gestured for the others to follow.
Turning to Etias, he said:
“Please be careful, colok, it’s a vicious illness, Your Highness.”
In the end, they staggered out of the room. Only after the door closed behind them did Etias let out a small sigh.
The sound of cold wind leaking through the old window could be heard, but it didn’t feel unpleasant or sorrowful.
Karon and the soldiers didn’t want their prince to stay in such a room. But Etias had survived in much worse places before he had a supporter.
‘Supporter…’
Again, those violet eyes like the night sky flashed across his mind.
Leaning back against the hard wall, he closed his eyes.
A new flyer from the poorhouse had been completed.
It was time to provide medicine for the Ret Pneumonia now sweeping the Empire.
‘Comfort level is dropping alarmingly fast.’
Seeing the watch display an even lower comfort level than overnight, I sighed and unfolded the crisp new flyer.
[In collaboration with Elma Pharmaceuticals, we are selling an experimental drug that may be effective against Ret Pneumonia. Better than dying, so take it!]
A flyer like this would only attract those truly desperate.
[Those who bring their previous poorhouse coupon will receive it for free.]
But for those who had already experienced the poorhouse’s support before, this would sound tempting.
Last time, the food, medicine, and field kits we provided were of such high quality that even nobles used them.
People believed that even if these were experimental drugs, the poorhouse funded by the cruel Lady Elemoer wouldn’t risk harming them.
Word of Sistina Poorhouse’s philanthropy had spread among the commoners, and they would come quietly to buy the medicine. Revolutionary soldiers could use their coupons to get it for free.
Those disgusted by the idea of experimental poorhouse drugs were merely the bloated nobles—the very people I planned to sell the final version to at outrageous prices.
“Preparations are complete. Colok.”
Heros had been coughing since yesterday, and he didn’t look well.
“Did you take your medicine?”
“Yes, this morning.”
“Then just rest today. Drink plenty of warm water… I should have them bring you fruit too. Vitamins help recovery.”
“But…”
I shook my head and placed my hand on his forehead as he approached.
“Don’t think foolishly. If you go out like this, you’ll only mess things up.”
Seeing my cold scolding, Heros’s eyes flickered before he blushed and lowered his head.
“Understood. I will obey you today.”
“Good. Wise choice.”
I didn’t particularly need his help today anyway. I wasn’t planning to load the flyers onto Etias’s carriage this time.
Doing so again would be too suspicious.
By now, news of the poorhouse’s new aid would spread among those who knew Sistina.
After sending Heros away to rest, I ordered the servants to distribute the flyers across every street.
As Ret Pneumonia spread throughout the Empire and more people fell sick, the Emperor locked himself in his quarters, refusing to go out.
Naturally, no countermeasures or aid for his people were provided.
Nobles sealed their doors, gathered doctors to reside within their mansions, and treated only themselves.
For the abandoned commoners, Sistina Poorhouse was their only hope.
It was funded by the notorious Lady Elemoer, so expectations had been low.
But after the large-scale aid last time, rumors of its benevolence had begun to circulate quietly.
Unable to find a doctor for Karon, whose fever had persisted for days, Etias headed directly to the poorhouse.
His subordinate’s life was on the line; even experimental medicine was worth trying.
In front of the poorhouse, people in similar desperate situations stood in three lines to receive medicine.
When it was finally his turn, Etias spotted a woman sitting leisurely behind the poorhouse staff, sipping tea.
Dressed in a luxurious red dress, she was Katrin Elemoer.
Even at a time when other nobles locked themselves away from the raging pneumonia, she sat proudly, radiating her characteristic elegance.
Raising a thin-fingered hand, she lifted the teacup to her crimson lips.
Suddenly, a strange, tightening sensation gripped Etias’s chest, leaving his lips dry.
