"Mm, that should do it."
Having returned to the mansion, I stripped to the waist in the living room and tended to my wound myself.
I removed the cloth the maid had bandaged me with, then used the ring linked to Leviathan to form armor pressed snugly against the flesh.
The material felt like metal yet wasn't—a strange sensation—pressing tightly around the wound to stop the bleeding.
Once that was taken care of, I turned my gaze toward the girl I had brought back with me.
She was curled up, shrinking into herself.
She looked just like a child who had been scolded by her parents—no, one terrified of something far greater.
"First off, let me hear your name."
"Ah... F-Forgive me!"
Panicking, the girl dropped flat against the floor in a prostration and introduced herself from that position.
"I-I am called Shirley Grands."
"Shirley, is it? That armor of yours is quite well-made. Did you buy it yourself?"
"This was passed down through generations of my ancestors... Um..."
"Mm? What is it?"
"My punishment... what kind of sentence will it be...?"
"Sentence?"
"Um, for the crime of accidentally injuring Your Imperial Highness..."
Shirley raised only her head, keeping both hands and knees planted on the floor.
She looked utterly terrified.
I was fairly certain I'd already told her not to worry about it, though.
"No such crime exists."
"Huh? But according to Imperial Law..."
"That's not what I mean. I'm saying the crime of 'accidentally' injuring me doesn't exist."
"What do you mean by that...?"
Shirley tilted her head in confusion.
"Stand up, Shirley."
"Y-Yes!"
"Try that thrust on me once more."
"Eh? But..."
"If you're a knight, obey your orders."
"—! Excuse me, then!"
Shirley rose, drew her longsword, and took her stance.
Her expression changed in an instant. The fear vanished almost entirely, replaced by a fierce, dignified look.
Then, with a piercing battle cry brimming with spirit, she unleashed her thrust.
It was every bit as powerful as the strike she had delivered during the Knight Selection.
I stopped it.
The shield Leviathan manifested blocked it cold.
"Take this—eh?"
Shirley noticed the difference immediately.
Her eyes widened in shock when she realized the shield she had pierced during the selection wouldn't budge in the slightest.
"Won't move an inch, will it?"
"Yes... Whether I push—or pull...?! How is this... amazing."
The tip of her sword remained stuck to the shield as if suctioned in place, refusing to budge no matter how hard she pushed or pulled. Shirley stared in utter disbelief.
"If I intend to defend myself in earnest, that attack won't get through. That's why there's no such thing as you doing it 'accidentally.' I made it happen that way."
"W-Why?"
Shirley grew even more bewildered.
"A knight's fundamental duty is to obey orders. Someone who can't faithfully follow orders is nothing more than a slave at best. I had various motives, but to begin with, I have no use for someone who watches my expression and holds back in a situation like that."
"Y-Yes!"
"If I wanted slaves, I would gather them through slave methods. This time, I am choosing knights. That's all there is to it."
"And so... without even regarding your own safety?"
"I also wanted to see how a person would react after injuring me. Even on your second try, you came at me with everything you had simply because I ordered it. You pass."
"...Y-Yes."
Shirley nodded meekly.
Her eyes were wide, and her jaw hung slack in a daze.
A moment later, she looked up at me with deep reverence in her eyes.
"And so, you've passed. Just to confirm, you took the selection intending to become my knight, right?"
"Y-Yes!"
Shirley hastily straightened her posture, dropped to one knee, and bowed her head.
It was etiquette learned purely by imitation—no, the kind seen in stage plays.
Commoners don't know the formal etiquette of the nobility, so the flashier gestures adapted for plays and theater are the ones that filter down to them.
Shirley gave the sort of knightly salute one would see on a stage.
"Shirley Grands swears her lifelong, unwavering loyalty to Your Imperial Highness."
Those weren't the formal words either, but her sincerity came through loud and clear.
More than anything:
――――――――――――
Name: Noah Ararat
Wise Imperial Prince
Gender: Male
Level: 1 / ∞
HP: F+F | Fire: F
MP: F | Water: E+S
Strength: F+E | Wind: F
Stamina: F+F | Earth: F
Intelligence: F+F | Light: F
Spirit: F+F | Darkness: F
Speed: F+F
Dexterity: F+F
Luck: F+F
―――――――――――
My abilities, which increased whenever I gained subordinates, had gone up.
This stat boost was far more important and clear-cut than whether her etiquette was proper or not.
Come to think of it, Shirley might have provided the largest single increase so far.
"I have high expectations for you, Shirley."
"—! Yes, Your Highness!"
Once my conversation with Shirley came to an end, the parlor maid brought in a doctor, as if she had been waiting for the cue.
He was a plump, middle-aged man with a round face and a thin mustache.
A familiar face. A court physician—specifically, His Majesty's palace physician.
If I remembered correctly, his name was Good Chloe.
His birth name had been Bad, but His Majesty had bestowed the name Good upon him because having a physician named Bad was far too ominous.
That was how much His Majesty trusted the man's medical expertise.
"So you came in person? A bit dramatic, isn't it?"
"Indeed. Allow me to examine the wound at once."
"Go ahead."
Since he was already here, there was no reason to turn him away.
All I had done was emergency first aid to stop the bleeding, after all.
I commanded Leviathan to release the armor clinging to my skin like an undershirt.
The instant it vanished, blood spurted out.
"—!"
"...Please bear with me for a moment."
Shirley gasped, but Good, true to his profession, didn't so much as twitch an eyebrow at what was clearly just a non-life-threatening superficial wound.
"Allow me to report, Your Highness. Fortunately, it missed the bone and tendon, so suturing it as is should suffice."
"I see. Get to it."
"Then, for the anesthesia—"
"No need. I'm in the middle of a conversation, so just get it over with quickly."
"I-I see... Very well, then."
Good nodded at me as I sat composedly, then retrieved his needle and suture thread.
After wiping away the blood and cleaning the area, he began stitching the surface of the skin closed.
Once he finished the front, Good looked up and stared intently at my face.
"What is it? Is there something on my face?"
"No, it is simply that I have never seen anyone who fails to let out a single sound, let alone change their expression, during a suturing like this."
"Is that so?"
"It is truly admirable."
With that, Good moved around behind me to stitch the back as well.
Now that Good was out of the way, I noticed that Shirley, who had been hidden behind his frame until then, was watching the suturing with rapt fascination.
"What is it, Shirley?"
"Ah, um... I was just thinking doctors are amazing."
"Hm?"
"So that's how cuts are treated... This is the first time I've ever seen it."
"Have you never seen a doctor before?"
"There are no doctors in my village."
"What did you say?"
I furrowed my brows.
"There are no doctors in your village?"
"Yes. Um... is that unusual?"
"Then what do you do when someone gets hurt or falls ill?"
"We have the village elder pray for them or perform a ward against the sickness."
"All too common in impoverished villages," Good chimed in from behind me.
The sigh mixed into his voice made it clear how bitter that reality was to him as a physician.
"Good."
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"How does one become a doctor?"
"Well, the usual path is to apprentice under an established practitioner."
"Do you take apprentices?"
"Yes, several."
"Shirley."
"Y-Yes!"
"This is your first order. Go to your village and bring back children who are clever and capable of working hard."
"Um...?"
"Good, I'm counting on you to take on a few apprentices."
"...Understood."
After a brief pause, Good gave a quiet nod behind my back.
"Um... Your Highness? What exactly do you mean...?"
Shirley asked timidly, still unable to wrap her head around the situation.
"I will cover their tuition and living expenses. Bring me people who are willing to become doctors and return to treat the people of your village."
"...! Thank you so very much!"
In a fluster, Shirley dropped to both knees and pressed her forehead to the floor in prostration once again.
Knights don't act like this, so I'll have to teach her proper conduct eventually.
When Shirley finally looked up, she gazed at me with eyes filled with even greater reverence than before.