Duke, This Will Sting for a Moment (30 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 2

“Here they come~ They’re here! The traveling herbalist troupe that came last year remembered us and returned again this year~. Headaches, toothaches, menstrual cramps, back pain—whatever ails you, trust us and take our medicine~. Lost appetite, lost taste for rice, even your runaway husband—all come back in a single dose~. If he doesn’t return, we’ll compensate you tenfold~.”

The man clapping his hands and rhythmically stomping one foot, handsome only in his kind-heartedness, is my father.

No, to be precise, he is Thomas, Yuriella’s father.

Instead of answering my prayer to turn back time, God chose to answer the plea of the wandering herbalist troupe’s captain, who prayed for his daughter’s life.

No, to be exact, He only saved her body. The soul within it is mine—Solace Moretti’s.

“Yuriella. Are you ready?”

Leon, the troupe’s coachman, jack-of-all-trades, and top contributor to patient care, flashed his perfectly aligned teeth in a bright, cheerful grin.

“Acupuncture? Or dancing?”

In an understaffed herbalist troupe, everyone must handle at least two roles.

The owner of this body I’ve possessed does both—dances and administers acupuncture.

“Dance first, for now.”

Leon handed me a long, red-beaded outfit resembling a curtain.

This body, having nearly died and come back to life, felt even light clothing as heavy as a sunfish’s scales. If I were forced to wear the armor from my past life, I’d surely collapse flat on my back.

“Woooo~ The stick is dancing!”

Moving my limbs as the body’s memories guided me, I was once again met with the usual teasing. Yuriella truly couldn’t dance well.

Embarrassment washed over me like a wave, but I lifted the corners of my mouth and danced until the very end. I owed them at least this much for all the meals they’d given me.

“Well done, Yuriella! You’ve improved so much compared to yesterday!”

Thomas, Yuriella’s father—who found even my mere breathing admirable—clapped so hard his palms must’ve stung.

My nose stung too. My own father abandoned me on the roadside the moment I was born.

Or was it my mother? Whether acting alone or as accomplices, if they’d only left me along the path where Thomas’s herbalist troupe would pass, perhaps I wouldn’t have met my end with my head severed.

It’s said that children raised with love know how to give love in return. Maybe then, instead of taking lives, I could have spent my days healing others—dying peacefully surrounded by loving gazes, not as a loyal hound beheaded by its master.

In that case, I never would’ve become the wielder of the holy sword Flama,

And Flama wouldn’t have turned into a cursed blade because of someone like me.

No… someone like me shouldn’t have been born at all….

“There’s no life in this world that shouldn’t have been born! Never say that again!”

Thomas’s thunderous voice snapped me back to my senses instantly.

Turning my head, I saw Yuriella’s father angrily taking the pulse of a young, visibly pregnant woman.

“You should think about somehow delivering and raising this child properly! Asking for an abortion potion? We’re healers—not killers!”

“I’m just so scared… scared of raising the child alone without a father…”

The pitifully thin woman sobbed, her shoulders trembling.

“…If only lightning would strike those who killed my husband… I hope they receive divine punishment… Sob sob…”

Her husband, I was told, died in battle at Colina Rosa. Could he have been one of those I’d slain?

“Yuriella. Why are you spacing out like that?”

Warmth from a gentle hand settled on my shoulder. It was Leon.

“The patients are waiting.”

I handed my dancer’s outfit to Leon, grabbed my acupuncture needles, and headed toward the rear wagon where a makeshift bed was set up. People waiting in line glanced curiously at me—unfamiliar with our Eastern Continent remedies and acupuncture techniques.

The first time I held the needles, I’d been so nervous sweat poured down my back. Thankfully, Yuriella’s body remembered everything—the techniques, the effects of our strange herbs, even the tiny habits of the herbalist troupe members she’d loved.

As soon as I entered the wagon, an extremely bothersome presence flew toward me with a sullen look.

[Why are you so late? Airy’s busy! Airy’s a very important, very busy being! Answer today—will you make a contract with me or not?]

A palm-sized spirit with fluffy braids flapped her two pairs of translucent emerald wings and widened her tiny eyes dramatically.

“No.”

[Why not? Still don’t believe I’m the Wind Holy Sword, Airy?]

“Yeah.”

[Airy doesn’t lie! I really am the great Holy Sword Airy.]

“Even if you are, I don’t want to.”

[Why? Why? Why?]

“Because I don’t.”

[If you make a contract with me, you’ll become the Master of Wind! With my healing power, you can cure anyone! I can even blow mountains into the sea!]

“Don’t need it.”

[Why!? It was me who saved your wandering soul in the Imperial Capital! Do you think just anyone could’ve done that?]

“Why did you save me?”

[Huh?]

Airy rolled her eyes sideways. The spirit always avoided this question.

“Was it your idea to put me in this body? Or did someone order you to do it?”

[Hmm…]

She dodged this one too, rolling her eyes the opposite way to avoid my gaze.

“You’ve gone an entire season without answering. I won’t ask anymore. So get lost. Forever.”

[Tch! You’ll regret it, but I won’t care! Even if you call, I won’t come!]

Instead of answering, I flicked a damp cloth at her. It hit her square on the forehead, and Airy vanished into thin air with a cry of, “I hate you, Yuriella!”

I still wasn’t sure if Airy was truly a holy sword’s spirit, but I had to admit her healing ability was extraordinary.

Since I awoke in Yuriella’s body, our herbalist troupe had enjoyed unprecedented prosperity. Word had spread locally that people who only used to buy digestive aids or vitality tonics now miraculously recovered after receiving my acupuncture.

Though Yuriella danced stiffly like a stick, she had been quite skilled at acupuncture—and with Airy’s healing energy added, the effects were immediate, leaving even our troupe members wide-eyed in astonishment.

“Now, close your eyes. Breathe calmly.”

As I inserted a silver needle into the patient who’d just entered the wagon, a soft green light flowed from my fingertips down the needle and slowly seeped into the afflicted area.

“Ahhh, so refreshing! The tingling pain in my back—it’s gone, Master!”

The same man who’d mocked my clumsy dancing earlier now addressed me as “Master.”

“Master, your hands are blessed!”

He blinked his puffy eyelids rapidly and gave me a firm thumbs-up with calloused hands. Since he didn’t mention the green aura, it seemed ordinary people couldn’t see it clearly.

Airy had insisted my mind would change once I used her power and forcibly poured her healing energy into me. That “single-use” amount of green aura had kept overflowing for three months now.

After a grueling day ended and everyone had fallen asleep at dawn,

I packed some dried meat and hard loaves of bread into a bundle and slipped out of the inn where the herbalist troupe was staying. Even this sunfish-like body had recovered enough strength to move alone—there was no reason left to delay.

My first destination was the Grand Duke’s castle.

I wanted to know how Frost was faring. Meeting him directly might be impossible, but I longed to see from afar that he was safe.

Then I must go to Jedu (Je-Do).

I’d check on the families of my fallen subordinates and look for those still on the run with bounties on their heads.

I needed to find out what had happened to Flama, now turned a cursed blade, and see again the beautiful face of the Emperor who branded us traitors—and I’d take one of them with me. Back to that hell they cast us into…!

But before I’d taken five steps from the inn, the thunderous gallop of hooves shook the earth, and knights bearing the insignia of a noble house charged through the dust, blocking my path.

“We’re looking for a woman named Yuriella. Rumor says she’s the dancer of the herbalist troupe.”

I slowly lowered the hood over my cloak and answered the middle-aged man leading them.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

Not knowing what was happening but sensing escape was best, I tried to hurry away.

“Yuriella! Where are you going at this hour?”

My father Yuriella’s voice rang out from the inn’s entrance. Damn.

The hooded middle-aged man paused, turned to look at me, then leapt down from his horse and strode forward swiftly.

“You’re Yuriella, right? I’m glad to finally meet you—my daughter.”

‘Daughter?’

The burly man spread his arms wide to embrace me, but I swiftly dodged.

“My father is that man over there.”

I pointed toward Thomas, who was running toward us, pale-faced.

Sensing something was wrong, my father pulled me behind him and spread his arms protectively.

“Who are you? Why are you accosting my daughter?”

“Your daughter? Hah!”

The man easily shoved Thomas aside and placed his thick, lid-like hand squarely on my shoulder.

“You are Yuriella Grande. My only daughter—Marquis Victor Grande.”

“No way.”

“The Iron Wall of the North does not lie.”

As the man removed his hood, a deep scar on his right cheek revealed a rugged, imposing face. Thomas let out a hiccup—clearly recognizing him.

I knew him too.

Victor Grande, the Iron Wall of the North. His name had appeared in documents on His Majesty’s desk—the handsome Emperor’s desk, that is.

He was Duke Frost Eelheim’s retainer and the Empire’s second most-watched man in the North.

“Let’s go home, Yuriella.”

The Marquis extended his hand. It was said that the entire Northern trade network lay within those thick palms that once crushed monsters and barbarians alike.

“I don’t want to.”

I needed to confirm the Grand Duke’s condition first, then head to Jedu. I had neither time nor reason to waste on some power-hungry noble who’d only earn me the title of “indentured servant.”

“If you refuse, I’ll behead that man for abducting you.”

My newly appeared father pointed at the man who’d been my father just moments ago.

“Abduction? But you yourself ordered us to take her away and never let her be seen again, saying you had no need for her whether she lived or died!”

So the Marquis Grande was the heartless sort who abandoned his offspring right after birth.

“When did I ever say that?”

He had the nerve to play dumb so brazenly.

“Why do you suddenly need me now?”

When I questioned his sudden urge to play father, the Marquis beamed and spread his arms wide.

“Yuriella Grande. You will become the mistress of the North.”

“The mistress… of the North?”

“Frost Eelheim’s consort. The position of Grand Duchess awaits you. Isn’t that reason enough for you to return home? Hahaha.”

The heartless, shameless man was an ambitious schemer aiming to become father-in-law to the Empire’s one and only Grand Duke.

“You’re insane.”

At my blunt remark, his lid-like hand cut through the air and struck my cheek.

For a moment, my vision went black.

*

An orphan like me now had two fathers!

One so gentle and warm I shamelessly thought, “Good thing I came back to life.”

The other so cold and cruel I questioned yet again why I’d been resurrected at all.

My new father has stood outside the manor gate every day since I was taken here, gripping the bars and crying until the guards beat him.

My real father, meanwhile, diligently “persuades” me each time I refuse to marry the Grand Duke—using hands, feet, and various tools. His talent for beating me without leaving marks is truly remarkable.

Of course, regardless of my consent, he’s been buzzing between noble houses like a busy bee, tirelessly negotiating the terms of this political marriage.

“Grrrrgh…”

I barely managed to shakily get up and pounded on the door.

The pea soup I ate four days ago was my last meal. They haven’t even given me water since yesterday. Even the infamous underground prison of the Imperial Palace offered one meal a day.

“Foooood…! Water…!”

—BANG!

“Hey! You thick-headed fool!”

Instead of a maid carrying a tray, Dolman Grande—the Marquis’s eldest son—kicked the door open with vigor.

“How dare a lowly bastard refuse marriage to the Grand Duke! Even being his footstool should be an honor!”

Indeed. Better to be his footstool than his consort.

“Make some sense—urk!”

Dolman’s fist slammed into my solar plexus before I could finish speaking. Biting my lip to stifle a groan, a thin trickle of blood ran down my chin.

“You stubborn wretch!”

As Dolman raised his foot to kick me lying on the floor, the Marquis Grande entered and stopped him.

“Dolman. Enough.”

The Marquis clicked his tongue in clear disdain at my wretched state.

“We can’t let the girl meant for the bridal chamber go in with injuries.”

“Bridal chamber?”

Dolman’s eyes widened.

If not for the pain cramping my face, my eyes would’ve been three times wider than his.

The Marquis approached, knelt on one knee, and lifted my chin firmly.

“Tonight, with this pretty face, melt that ice-cold heart of the Grand Duke. Bear an Eelheim heir for me. Succeed, and I’ll grant you all the wealth and glory you’ve missed as the Marquis’s daughter.”

“Why wait for the wedding night? Even bastards deserve some family honor.”

The honorless Dolman spoke of honor.

“If the Grand Duke dies before the marriage, we’ll be like dogs chasing chickens.”

“True. I hear his demon poison flares up constantly—he’s teetered on death’s edge more than once.”

“Hush! Quiet!”

The Grand Duke’s health was a closely guarded secret.

Though I’d had chances to escape, I stayed to learn his condition—but gained nothing until now.

“The Grand Duke… is in critical condition?”

A cold shiver ran down my spine. Silence truly wasn’t golden after all…

“Yes. After being struck by that cursed blade, he’s become a walking dead man with an uncertain expiration date. Demon poison resists all medicine and divine power. No one can save him—unless the legendary Healing Holy Sword Airy, unused for five centuries, suddenly reappears.”

The Holy Sword Airy?

For real?