Chapter 9
Dr. Zivago opened his eyes wide and stepped back to look Sian up and down. Then he tilted his head.
“Just looking at you, you seem very healthy…”
“I’m fine right now. But lately, my heart keeps racing for no reason, and my face keeps flushing.”
“For no reason…”
Hmm. Dr. Zivago put his hand on his chin and hummed.
“Well, it’s difficult to make a diagnosis without symptoms. If it’s not severe, it would be better if you could gather more specific data about when these symptoms mainly occur and tell me.”
After being lost in thought for a moment, Dr. Zivago soon said with a pout, as if he wasn’t sure. Sian, who had come to consult about her symptoms with great resolve, looked disappointed at his words.
“As for when it mainly happens…”
Sian, who had been trying to explain further to get a clearer answer, trailed off without finishing her sentence.
When had the symptoms been at their worst? The last memory was when the prince—no, the man she should now call Carl—had smiled gently at her.
She had simply called him by his permitted name, and he had responded with a guileless smile, as if they were old friends.
At that unguarded smile, her heart had suddenly reacted strangely, dropping with a thud. The shock had been so great that her face had flushed hot, forcing Sian to hastily leave the spot. Even after that, the strange symptoms she had never experienced before continued for quite some time.
It was bad enough that she had gone to consult Dr. Zivago. Sian had always been in good health, enough that the mercenaries would have been sufficiently surprised.
But now, reflecting on Dr. Zivago’s words, something felt off. While the worst symptoms had occurred during her last meeting with the prince, come to think of it, she had felt strange every time she faced the prince before that.
“Ah, I don’t know. So there’s nothing you can guess just from the symptoms?”
“Not yet… It’s too vague to make a diagnosis based on just that much information. I’m not that kind of quack.”
“I see.”
Sian responded coolly. As she turned away, Dr. Zivago’s face went blank.
“Is that all? Don’t you have anything else to say?”
“I’m busy. Do you have anything else to say, Doctor?”
When Sian countered, the doctor’s face became even more of a sight to behold.
“No, you call someone over who’s eating, and this is what…”
“Sorry about that. …Ah, right. How’s the prince’s condition?”
“He’s recovering very smoothly. Being the master of a dragon, his recovery is certainly fast.”
“Will he be able to move around soon?”
“I’m not sure how soon you mean by ‘soon,’ but he’s perfectly capable of daily activities even now.”
“That’s good news.”
Sian nodded.
“Are we moving soon?”
“We have to. We can’t waste time in a place like this forever, can we?”
“Now that’s what I call good news.”
As Dr. Zivago’s face brightened, Sian smiled softly.
“Pray, because this might be a job that could make a mark for our mercenary group.”
Sian meaningfully waved something she was holding. Dr. Zivago, who had let out an excited “Ooh,” opened his eyes wide.
“What’s that?”
What Sian was holding was a piece of paper. To Dr. Zivago’s question, Sian just smiled.
“A new contract.”
“Ooh…?”
Dr. Zivago looked at Sian with eyes expecting a more detailed explanation, but Sian’s consideration ended there.
“Well, this sister is off to find a sponsor. Pray.”
Before he could even voice his question about the word “sponsor,” Sian had quickly disappeared somewhere. It didn’t seem like she was walking particularly fast, but it was almost like instant teleportation.
Left alone in an instant, Dr. Zivago stared blankly at the empty space where Sian had been, left with an emotion that might have been expectation or excitement.
“…Wait, why ‘pray’ instead of ‘hope’…?”
Dr. Zivago muttered absently, but there was no one left to answer him.
* * *
A big hit or a total flop.
She still wasn’t sure if this was the right thing to do. If things went well, she would become an irreplaceable companion to Prince Carlston Klaus, the lord of Ivarid. If things went poorly, she would become a traitor to the empire. It was a situation that clearly needed prayer rather than expectation.
‘And yet, here I am preparing this.’
Sian thought as she looked down at the paper she was holding.
‘Employment Contract’
It was a contract Sian had written herself. Although there shouldn’t be much trouble getting a signature since the content had all been verbally agreed upon with Carlston, she felt uneasy.
Had she been too easily swayed by an unknown amount of wealth?
Hesitation about a decision that could be either a threat or an opportunity clung to her ankles like shackles. This was the last chance to turn back.
With the paper with its blank signature line tucked under her arm, Sian found herself in deep contemplation in front of the tent where Carl was staying.
“Sian?”
Suddenly, a voice that shouldn’t have been there came from behind. Sian turned around, startled.
Anyone who saw would have thought she looked more surprised than when she had said she wasn’t feeling well. It was a situation where the great Sian Roosevelt had been caught off guard, not noticing the presence behind her, and then, faced with an unexpected figure in such a defenseless state, she had unwittingly blushed.
“What are you doing there?”
“Uh, um…”
What followed was fortunately not witnessed by anyone. Sian stuttered, making incomprehensible sounds like a child who had forgotten how to speak.
“And… why is Carl coming out from there?”
She had almost called him “Your Highness” again, but Sian barely managed to correct herself. For some reason, her lips tingled after saying the prince’s name.
“I was feeling stuffy just lying down, so I went to wash up.”
As the question was answered, sanity returned. Sian clutched her pounding heart, which was acting against her will, and carefully examined Carl’s appearance.
Carl stood there with a puzzled look on his face, wearing a shirt that was far too poor in quality to be draped over a prince’s body. True to his word, he seemed to have just washed up, with water droplets clinging not only to his hair but also to his cheeks and collar. His complexion was still pale, but it was the pleasing paleness of fair skin that had just been washed, not the deathly pallor of before.
Despite the considerable distance between them, her gaze moved upward. Come to think of it, this might be the first time they’ve stood face to face. Looking up felt quite unfamiliar.
Why had she thought Carl would be short? Sian felt a bit perplexed as she looked up at Carl’s eyes, which were clearly higher than her own.
“Sian?”
Lost in thought, Sian snapped back to reality at Carl’s curious voice. Somehow, he had come closer and was peering into her eyes, his hair still disheveled and damp.
The moment she met those clear blue-green eyes, Sian took a deep breath without realizing it.
“The contract… I brought the contract.”
She already knew he was handsome, but for some reason, the change in perspective made it feel completely different.
Flustered, Sian hastily held out the contract in front of Carl’s eyes. Carl, who had leaned in so close their faces nearly touched, startled and stepped back.
“Contract?”
Carl softly echoed, taking the paper from Sian. In that brief moment, Sian tried her best to compose herself, but it was a series of uncharacteristic actions.
‘What? What is this?’
Her heart wouldn’t stop pounding. Despite rationally knowing there was no need to be so flustered, her heart was racing as if she had encountered a mortal enemy, completely disconnected from her brain.
‘Surely not…’
Sian covered her mouth at the sudden thought that occurred to her. Oblivious to Sian’s thoughts, Carl was busy reading the contract he held in his hands.
Soon, when Carl lowered the contract, his expression had become quite complex.
“I think we need to have a thorough talk, Lady Sian.”
He then spoke in a low voice. It was the solid voice of a mature man. Her heart thumped at the soft voice that seemed to melt her ears.
‘Could it be that I like the prince?’
At this novel realization, Sian’s face sank with bewilderment.
[Carlston Klaus, the Lord of Ivarid (hereinafter referred to as A), enters into a contract with Sian Roosevelt, the leader of the mercenary group Dragon’s Claw (hereinafter referred to as B), regarding the work of recovering assets.]
Below this opening statement of the contract, written in an unnecessarily ornate script, was the content: ‘B shall spare no support and assistance until all assets held by A are reclaimed and recovered, and A shall, upon completion of the objective, divide all reclaimed assets in a 4:6 ratio and pay B. In the event of non-compliance, a portion of A’s territory, Ivarid, shall be inherited by B.’
“Inherit a portion of Ivarid’s territory…?”
midori
thanks! ah…i’m not a fan of the female lead falling in love first…especially in this situation…hrrmmm