"So that's how it is... Was it all just a dream?"

Moen leaned against the headboard, his eyes fixed on the ceiling adorned with a golden chandelier. A deep sense of relief welled up inside him.

He hadn’t expected it—he was still alive.

Pierced directly in a vital spot by a dagger engulfed in the flames of a dark god, yet he somehow survived.

Had the heavens, at long last, decided to show him mercy in this critical moment?

“According to the master, the suit you were wearing at the time was actually a rather fine defensive magic artifact. It absorbed most of the damage at the critical juncture, allowing you to escape with your life.”

“I see.”

I’m sorry, dear suit. I used to be so bitchy about you, saying your twenty-kilogram weight was a drawback. But now I see—it’s that reassuring heft of yours that kept me safe!

I swear I’ll have you repaired if I got chance and wear you again—not for vanity, but to repay the life-saving favor you’ve granted me!

"What about my injuries then...?"

Moen looked down at his hands. Frankly, even though he had sustained such severe wounds, at this moment, he felt no pain at all. He could vaguely sense only a subtle emptiness within his body.

"That would be thanks to Her Highness, Princess Celicia."

Ann explained, "She summoned the chief healer of the Royal Mage Corps and personally cast healing magic on you. Your wounds were healed almost immediately. It's just that your body was still weak, so you remained unconscious for a long time."

"For long?"

"You've been sleeping for three whole days, young master."

"Three... days."

Exhaling softly, Moen remarked, "Well, that’s certainly… long."

"By the way."

At the mention of Celicia, Moen suddenly grew nervous. Unable to contain himself, he cautiously asked, "Did Celicia… say anything about me?"

“She said anything about you?”

Ann tilted her head quizzically. “What do you mean, young master?”

"Uh... I mean, did she mention anything... unfavorable about me?"

“That, I wouldn't know. But I guess she said nothing.”

Ann pondered for a moment and added, “When Her Highness was leaving, she had a brief but pleasant chat with the master. They seemed to get along quite well.”

"I see.”

Moen let out a breath of relief.

It seemed Celicia had refrained from revealing the... unspeakable deed. Was it for the sake of her own reputation, or was it because... he'd saved her?

"Young master Moen.”

“Hm?”

“Pardon me if this question is out of line, but I must ask.”

Ann suddenly knelt beside him, the faint fragrance of flowers wafting to Moen’s nose. For some reason, her voice sent a chill through him.

“Are you so anxious about this because… you did something inappropriate to Her Highness while you were alone with her in the room?”

“…Of course not.”

Moen shook his head firmly, his face tense as he replied, “That’s the princess we’re talking about! If I’d done anything, I’d have lost my head already!”

“Really? That’s true, I suppose.”

Ann seemed convinced by Moen’s words and refrained from further questioning. Instead, she picked up the medicine bowl from the nearby table.

“Now, it's time to drink your medicine. It’s already cooled.”

“Do I have to?”

Looking at the dark, murky liquid in the bowl, Moen’s tense face immediately fell.

“I hate bitterness.”

“No hatred now young master. Your top priority now is nursing your body back to health.”

“But aren’t my wounds already healed?”

“Technically, this isn’t medicine. It’s more like a tonic—only similar to medicine in some ways. Besides, knowing that young master Moen dislikes bitterness, sugar has already been added.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

"Well, alright then..."

Moen shakily stretched out his hand. “Give me the medicine.”

Ann: “…”

Moen: “?”

“Young master Moen, feeding you your medicine is part of my duty as your dedicated maid,” Ann said with a serene smile.

“But I’m perfectly capable of feeding myself…”

“Young master Moen, do you wish to strip me of my livelihood as your wretched maid? If that’s the case, I can tender my resignation to the master right away.”

Ann dabbed at nonexistent tears near her eyes. “As a pathetic maid who knows nothing but how to take care of you, I’d soon find myself homeless. If misfortune befell me out there on the streets, all I could do is…”

“Alright, alright! Fine, you won. Feed me and stop that.”

Moen sighed in surrender.

After all, wasn’t this the treatment befitting a duke’s son?

Being hand-fed by a beautiful maiden was the ultimate fantasy for all otakus, wasn’t it?

“Now, young master, open your mouth—ahhh—”

“Why does this feel like being fed as a child? Ahhh—"

“Ugh! So bitter! Didn’t you say sugar was added?”

“Oh my, I must have forgotten. Anyway, keep going, young master—ahhh—”

“How does someone even forget something like that? You’re definitely treating me like a child! Ahhh—”

“Come on, young master, just two more spoonfuls to go! Ahhh—”

“I told you, I’m not a child! Ahhh—”

…

…

“By the way, has that incident caused any bad consequences?”

Moen pondered. After all, an assassination attempt on the empire’s princess was no small matter. In the three days he’d been unconscious, it was impossible for there to have been no fallout. And as his personal maid, Ann would surely have some insight into the situation.

“It did cause some waves,” Ann replied as she tidied up the empty medicine bowl.

“First and foremost, there’s the issue of the assassins’ identities. After a direct inquiry by the master, it seems those disguised as maids weren’t professional soldiers or assassins. Instead, they were part of an underground bounty hunter guild operating in Belland—followers of a dark god known as the King of Wither. It’s said they’ll do absolutely anything as long as the pay is right.”

“King of Wither... bounty hunters…”

Moen murmured softly under his breath. To his recollection, the original novel hadn’t mentioned any dark god named King of Wither, much less a bounty hunter guild dedicated to them.

“As I thought, the novel has its limitations,” he sighed inwardly.

Novels are always narrated from the protagonist’s perspective, unable to fully outline the world’s broader scope or include every event occurring across its lands.

Which means… once events deviate from the canon plot or stray far enough from the protagonist’s storyline, they become wholly unpredictable.

“Don’t worry, young master Moen. That guild was completely wiped out last night by the master himself,” Ann added as a reassurance.

“…I see.”

Moen was momentarily dazed, then broke into a relieved smile.

Although the plot no longer followed the book, he was, after all, still the esteemed son of a duke.

He really didn’t need to concern himself with how things would unfold. There were plenty of others to handle matters for him.

“What about the mastermind behind the bounty hunters?”

“We haven’t found them yet.”

Ann shook her head. “Every member of that guild was cursed. The moment they were questioned about their employer, they spontaneously combusted and died.”

“As expected…”

Anyone bold enough to orchestrate an assassination attempt on a princess would naturally leave no traceable evidence.

Even the beggars on the streets knew that those who might have motivation to target Celicia could be counted on one hand.

“It is said that His Majesty the Emperor flew into a rage over the incident, personally issuing orders to sweep Belland’s underworld rats clean.”

“This is really…”

Moen shook his head with a bitter smile and thought to himself:

“Well, looks like the black market will be off-limits for quite a while.”