Chapter 5

　　In the time since Astina had departed for the Gail Kingdom, the Dresden Empire had plunged into its greatest crisis since welcoming its new emperor. Empress Brillin was suffering from morning sickness. As she struggled, unable to keep even water down, Emperor Hafen’s functions were completely paralyzed, save for that of a "husband frantic with worry." With the imperial couple both refusing food, the palace staff walked on eggshells.

　　It was into this tense atmosphere that Astina, the Empress’s cherished younger sister, arrived with a basket of fruit. As she and Theo took in the somber mood, Hafen himself emerged to greet them. The sight of his haggard face made Astina shriek.

　　"Your Majesty! What’s happened? Are you ill?"

　　Hafen, who looked as if he had not had a decent meal in days, shook his head. He had not, in fact, swallowed so much as a spoonful of gruel in three days. His explanation that it was Brillin who was sick was cut short when his eyes landed on the basket Mikhail was holding. They widened at the sight of the fruit, so rare in Dresden, that Mikhail had painstakingly selected.

　　"Fruit…" His voice was a desperate rasp. "Brillin might eat this!"

　　He snatched the basket and bolted toward the kitchens. Astina ran after him as he personally thrust the basket at the head chef. "What made her ill? What is morning sickness?"

　　"One moment, Astina! Head Chef, take these to the Empress at once!"

　　"No, Your Majesty!" Astina stomped her foot, tugging on his sleeve. "I’m asking you what kind of illness this is!"

　　Only after he had watched the head chef, a veteran of thirty years, begin to meticulously wash and prepare the fruit did Hafen finally turn to her. Astina’s large eyes were brimming with tears as she looked up at him sorrowfully. Brillin had always been the picture of health, her monstrous form notwithstanding. The thought of her ever-healthy sister being ill terrified Astina so much that she could not even bring herself to run to her side, and instead just stared at Hafen, waiting.

　　Finally registering her distress, Hafen managed a weak, reassuring smile. "The nausea that occurs in early pregnancy is called morning sickness, my dear sister-in-law. Brillin hasn’t been able to eat for days because of it."

　　"She can’t eat? What about medicine? Has she taken any?"

　　"They say there’s no cure for it," Hafen muttered, his face bleak.

　　Astina despaired. What a terrible illness! She immediately ran toward her sister’s chambers, her heart pounding with fear for the woman who had contracted the most wicked disease in the world. As Theo moved to follow, Hafen grabbed him by the collar.

　　"Theo, this is an order. No, a request. I need you to create a spell that makes morning sickness go away." Hafen’s deep blue eyes blazed with a manic light, and Theo understood the gravity of the situation.

　　"I will look into it."

　　"Looking into it is not enough! Create it! Now!"

　　"I will do my best, Your Majesty."

　　While Theo was being throttled by an emperor who demanded a miracle, not his best effort, Astina reached Brillin’s bedroom. Brillin was reclining on her bed, reading a book. She looked up to greet her younger sister, who was making choked sounds as she fought back tears.

　　Astina could not bring herself to get any closer. "My poor Sister… are you in a lot of pain?" she asked, her voice trembling.

　　"Tina, did you meet His Majesty?" Brillin sighed, setting her book down and extending a hand. Astina rushed forward and clasped it, her golden eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Whatever he told you, it’s not that bad. I’m okay, Tina."

　　"How can you be okay? You have an illness called morning sickness, and you can’t even eat!"

　　"It’s not like that. I’m eating just fine."

　　"You’re lying! You’re wasting away!"

　　At her sister’s sorrowful whimper, Brillin sighed again. Her morning sickness was severe, yes, but she was faring better than Hafen, who had stopped eating entirely. The palace physicians were worried the emperor would collapse first. Honestly, what did he tell her?

　　"I swear, your brother-in-law will be the death of me."

　　"If you die, I’ll die too!" Waaah! At Brillin’s dramatic pronouncement, Astina’s composure shattered, and she collapsed onto the bed, sobbing. It took all of Brillin’s energy to console her.

　　By the time Hafen appeared with a tray laden with colorful fruit, Astina had finally accepted that morning sickness was not, in fact, a fatal disease.

　　"Here, Brillin," Hafen said, setting the tray down. "Try some of this. Your sister brought it all the way from Gail."

　　Astina speared a piece of melon—the fruit she had found the most delicious—and offered it to her. "Try this, Sister. It’s really good."

　　Brillin took the fork, but she could not bring herself to take a bite. The sweet, fragrant aroma that she would normally love now turned her stomach. She wanted to try for the sake of Astina and Hafen, who were watching her with wide, hopeful eyes, but she finally had to set the fork down.

　　Seeing their disappointed faces, she scanned the other fruits on the tray. Her gaze landed on a pale yellow fruit with a sharp, refreshing scent. As Brillin picked up a small slice of lemon, Astina cried out in alarm. "Oh, Brillin, that one’s incredibly sour—!"

　　She reached out, having forgotten to remove the treacherous fruit, but Brillin was already bringing the slice to her nose. She inhaled its scent, then popped it into her mouth. As the bright, tangy flavor exploded on her tongue, the nausea vanished, replaced by a surge of appetite. "This is delicious."

　　"Delicious?" Astina stared.

　　"Yes. Tina, what is this fruit?"

　　"Uh, it’s called a lemon… Sister, isn’t it sour?"

　　"It’s tart and wonderful."

　　Watching Brillin eat slice after slice, Astina tilted her head in confusion and tried a piece herself. She immediately squeezed her eyes shut, her lips puckering, rendered speechless by the intense sourness. It seemed even more potent than the one she had had earlier, yet Brillin was eating them as if they were candy. Well, if my sister says it’s delicious, what does it matter? Astina gulped down the lemon and declared, "I’ll bring you more! I’ll bring you tons! I’ll bring you every single lemon in the Gail Kingdom!"

　　Brillin chuckled, stroking her sweet sister’s head. "I can’t eat that many, Tina."

　　Meanwhile, Hafen, on a desperate whim, squeezed the juice from a lemon over a piece of bread he had brought. He held out the soaked bread. "Brillin, try this too." Brillin, who until that moment had felt sick at the mere smell of flour, reluctantly took a bite.

　　She chewed, swallowed, and her green eyes lit up. "It’s not nauseating, Your Majesty. In fact… it’s delicious."

　　"Truly?"

　　"Yes! With the lemon, I think I can eat other things, too."

　　"Oh, thank goodness, Brillin. Thank goodness!" It was as if weeks of anxiety had melted away in an instant. Astina and Hafen joined hands and danced around the room in giddy relief, while Theo immediately teleported back to Gail and returned with two more boxes of lemons. After the palace kitchens were thrown into a frenzy of lemon-juicing, Brillin and Hafen finally enjoyed a proper meal for the first time in a fortnight.

* * *

　　While Astina was resolving the great morning sickness crisis in Dresden, Hingis was summoned by his father, Count Nordo. The count eyed his son, who had arrived wearing two vests for protection, with a look of profound pity.

　　"You need to talk some sense into Eonora," the count began. "She always listened to you, didn’t she?"

　　"What about Eonora?"

　　"She’s stubbornly refusing to get married, that’s what."

　　Hingis, who had been bracing for a scolding, let out a hearty laugh and waved a dismissive hand. "Come now, Father. Eonora, getting married? She’s still so young."

　　Count Nordo alternately slapped his son’s padded back and his own chest. "She’s twenty-seven! Twenty-seven! She’s long past the proper age, I tell you!"

　　Compared to the thirty-seven-year-old, unmarried Hingis, Eonora was indeed young, but in their society, twenty-seven was well past the prime age for a noblewoman to marry. In the Gail Kingdom, it was a disgrace to remain a spinster. After a moment’s thought, Hingis drew upon his experience of abandoning his title and family for the Magic Tower. "If she doesn’t want to, she must have her reasons, Father. There’s no need to force her to do something she doesn’t want to!"

　　"Are you trying to turn her into another you?" his father roared. "She’s acting this way because of your example!"

　　"Father, that hurts! Aaahh, Father!"

　　Hingis endured a thorough beating from his worried father and was only released after promising to try and persuade his sister. When he stepped out of the count’s office, Eonora was waiting in the hall. She shook her head at the sight of her brother rubbing his back, and the two of them sat down in the reception room.

　　"Eonora."

　　"I know what Father said, Brother," she cut in firmly. "I have no intention of getting wed, so don’t bother."

　　Hingis had not planned to persuade her anyway, but he was still worried. Wondering if something had happened while he was away, he asked gently, "Is there a particular reason you’re against it?"

　　"I want to go into business, brother. I want to earn my own money."

　　"Money? Eonora, are the family finances in trouble?"

　　"It’s not that. By the way, brother, do you know teleportation magic?"

　　"Teleportation? No, I don’t know how to do that…"

　　As Hingis, a specialist in water magic, shook his head, Eonora sighed and shook her head as well. Then, declaring she had nothing more to say, she abruptly left the room.

　　Hingis scratched the back of his head, recalling the adoring little sister from a decade ago. "She used to be such an adorable kid, but now…"