Chapter 16 : The Alchemist of the Eastern Continent
The slime and sword business was a massive success. A huge one!
As a result, Kynemia found herself increasingly busy.
Why?
Her original plan to cheer from the sidelines like a Pokémon master and reap the sweet rewards now seemed hopelessly naive.
Her vassals demanded her approval for everything—expanding the forge, deciding sword engravings, you name it.
Whyyyyy…!
Kynemia, harassed by her retainers late into the night, clutched her pillow tightly. Autumn sunlight blazed through her eyelids.
“Ugh…”
She squeezed her eyes shut as light flooded the room.
“Time to wake up, miss.”
Vanessa, her nanny, roused her with a gentle touch.
“Mmmph…”
“Sleeping in today?”
“No…”
“Our young lady seems extra tired. Why not rest a bit longer?”
“I’ll get up…”
“Then wash your face before the water turns cold.”
Vanessa gave Kynemia’s bottom a light pat.
“Mmm…”
After a cheek kiss from Vanessa, Kynemia stumbled to the washbasin and dunked her face, eyes still glued shut.
Shane, the maid, chuckled awkwardly as she hauled the drowsy girl upright, scrubbing her face with foamy care.
Kynemia wobbled out of her room, dressed in Vanessa’s chosen outfit, her groggy face tilted sideways.
“The Wings of Leon grace us! Off to the training hall again, miss?”
Baron Romeo bowed as he passed. Studying the half-asleep girl, he rubbed his cheeks—equal parts concern and adoration.
“Our precious lady, your face looks puffy today. Take it easy, won’t you?”
“Can’t… Mom said never skip practice…”
“You can barely see! Shall I escort you?”
“Nnnno… I’m fine…”
Kynemia zigzagged down the hall, arms flapping like wounded birds.
Creak—
The private training hall stood empty.
She lurched toward the wall where wooden swords hung in ascending sizes—a timeline of her growth.
Mom…
She used to train here with her mother.
Exhaustion and sudden nostalgia tugged her lips downward. Kynemia grabbed the longest sword on the right.
Staggering like a drunkard, she barely reached the hall’s center.
So tired… Soooo tired, ughhh—
But she shook her head violently, shut her eyes, and began swinging.
Ten slashes in, someone grabbed her wrist mid-swing.
…Huh?
Her cheeks were squished before she could react. Blinking owlishly, she found herself eye-to-eye with a grinning boy.
Eiyan.
The rapidly growing teen cradled her face in one large hand, mercilessly squishing her cheeks.
He winked, his mischief dial cranked higher each day.
“Grand Duchess, open those peepers. Swordplay’s dangerous half-asleep.”
Kynemia scowled. Why’s this heartattack hazard here at dawn?
“I’m armed.”
“Exactly why it’s risky.”
“You’re the risk.”
She mimed slashing him, cheeks still pancaked. Eiyan laughed, plucking the sword away.
“Always this pathetic mornings?”
“Low blood pressure…”
“Hm?”
“It’s a condition! Plus Michaela kept me up…”
Her stretch became a full-body shudder. Ugh, still zombified.
She collapsed butt-first, legs splayed, back bent. Eiyan knelt behind her, pressing her spine into a stretch.
Grindgrindgrind—
“Haaah…” Kynemia exhaled, straightening. Finally waking up.
“Hey, Eiyan.”
“When’ll you call me Yan?”
“Hah?”
“Asked when you’ll use my nickname.”
Lately, he’d been whining for cutesy nicknames like a clingy puppy.
“Never.”
We’re not that close.
“Can I call you Mia then?”
He batted eyelashes despite her glare.
Ah. She remembered—he’d noticed her uncle’s letter using that nickname.
“No!”
She whipped her head away. Eiyan’s face crumpled into Oscar-worthy sorrow, teardrops practically materializing.
“Really?”
“Eep!”
Caught off-guard by his puppy-eyes nuke, Kynemia shoved him back, eyes screwed shut.
Pretty boys ruin health, sanity, and savings—Dad’s lessons ring true.
“You’ll do whatever anyway! Why ask?”
“Oh ho! Busted.”
Living with Eiyan taught her one thing: he only hears what he likes.
He smoothly chomped the finger pushing his face away.
“Yikes!” Kynemia crab-walked backward.
“Wh-what was that?!”
Eiyan just grinned, chin propped on hands.
She clutched bitten fingers to chest. Heart’s racing—stupid pretty boy reflexes!
“Stop… that.”
“What’s ‘that’?”
“That thing!”
“Which thing?”
“Ugh! You know!”
He tilted his head, feigning innocence.
Nope. Nope nope. Evict him NOW.
“Eiyan.”
“Yes~?”
“When leaving?”
“Leaving where?”
“Your injury.”
She jabbed a finger at his bandaged side.
Five months since April! He’s overstaying his welcome.
“Five months already.”
“Still hurts.”
“What?”
“Wanna see?”
“Show me.”
She squirrel-scampered closer. Eiyan’s bandage indeed seeped fresh blood.
“Why’s it still bleeding? Infection?”
“High-tier curse from that mage. Slows healing.”
“Hmm…”
“Let me check the bandage—”
“Mia.”
He ignored her protest, using the forbidden nickname.
“What.”
“Worried about me?”
His sudden question made her jerk upright—right into his honeyed gaze.
“NO!”
Eiyan tilted his head as she fumed. Can’t hide you care, can you?
“Ack!”
She prodded his wound. He flinched.
“This isn’t normal! What if it’s festering—”
“Curse-laced wounds take time. Patience, princess.”
“Hmph.”
Cute. Eiyan watched her fret over his side.
Good enough.
Mental magic requires lowered defenses. After yesterday’s exhaustion and today’s concern…
Now’s the moment.
“Mia.”
“Stop calli—”
Snap!
Their eyes locked as he flicked fingers. Kynemia’s lids fluttered slowly open, azure irises pinning him.
Now—what are you hiding? Your secret?
But before he could speak, she blinked.
“What was that?”
“…?”
Eiyan froze.
It… didn’t work?
