#98
It was a long night of drifting in and out of sleep, repeatedly awakened by pain. While his body was feverish, Enrique shivered from chills. After enduring this way, the sky finally began to lighten at dawn.
Busy sounds filtered through the closed window. The reinforcements who had enjoyed the night and rested comfortably were preparing to depart for Baron’s capital.
“Pol,” Enrique called. Pol, who had been wringing out a cloth soaked in cold water, quickly approached the bedside.
“I need to prepare to attend the departure ceremony.”
“Your Highness! Attending the ceremony in this condition? That’s out of the question.”
“I must attend.”
Enrique insisted. He tried to raise his upper body on his own, but moving carelessly might reopen his wound. Enrique extended his hand, indicating he needed support. Pol chewed his lip but finally carefully helped Enrique sit up, supporting his back.
Pol stacked several soft pillows behind Enrique’s back for comfortable support. Even this small movement caused cold sweat to form on his forehead.
“You see? Just sitting up makes you break out in a cold sweat. At the ceremony, you’d have to wear formal attire and ride a horse. It’s absolutely impossible.”
“But news of the assassination attempt has already leaked. If I don’t appear at the departure ceremony, we won’t be able to hide the fact that I’m injured. It’s a crucial issue that could cause cracks in our alliance.”
Enrique calmly explained the situation. Pol stared at Enrique for a moment before nodding.
The attendants moved quietly and quickly under Pol’s direction. Enrique stood up from his bed as slowly as possible, supported by others. The problem was that he couldn’t raise the arm with the injured shoulder. He couldn’t change clothes.
After pondering for a moment, Pol decided to completely unpick one side of the clothes, drape them over Enrique like a cover, then sew them back together to secure them. The same was done for the sleeve. As long as there was no need for big movements, it would be enough if the outfit looked presentable from the outside. The attendants quickly disassembled the clothes, draped them over Enrique, and began sewing.
The leather armor posed a problem. Sewing armor required great skill and wasn’t something the attendants could do in a hurry. Enrique finally gave up on the armor and instead draped a cloak to cover and hide the injured shoulder.
Looking in the mirror, he appeared quite presentable. However, his extremely pale face and blue-tinged lips were problematic.
“I need some makeup. And some color for my lips.”
Pol immediately acted on Enrique’s request. The attendants, following Pol’s instructions, quickly procured the necessary items. They were probably belongings of the castle’s previous occupant.
They wiped Enrique’s face, damp with cold sweat, using a dry cloth and applied powder. They also added color to his lips, which had turned blue from pain and chills. While it looked somewhat unnatural, it was much better than the previous pale complexion.
Bwooo- Bwooo- Bwooo-
The horn sounded, signaling assembly. Enrique downed an entire bottle of painkillers left by the doctor. If he collapsed during the ceremony, it would be worse than not attending at all. He had to endure.
When Pol opened the door, the guard knights standing outside looked surprised. Enrique put a finger to his lips, signaling them to be quiet. Realizing Enrique’s determination, the knights nodded, keeping their mouths shut. Enrique began to walk slowly towards the castle grounds where the departure ceremony would be held.
With each step, the vibration that traveled through his feet to his body made his wound throb, spreading pain that made his head spin. Enrique tightly gripped Pol’s supporting hand like a lifeline, enduring each step.
“Y-Your Highness?!”
When Enrique appeared at the departure ceremony, all those who knew about his injury couldn’t hide their surprise.
“What? Have I come somewhere I shouldn’t?” Enrique said with a smile, raising the corners of his mouth. Unlike the distant soldiers, the nearby commanders would clearly notice his made-up face and the cloak hiding his injured shoulder. Those who realized Enrique was deliberately trying to conceal his injury quickly composed their expressions.
“As these are Ruben soldiers, I’ll forgo giving a speech,” Enrique said with a smile. This was true, and in his current state, even speaking loudly would be too much. The Ruben commander nodded and ascended the platform. He began speaking in a booming voice.
Enrique could feel the soldiers’ eyes darting towards him. Given the commotion about the attack and assassin the previous night, rumors must have spread widely. There had surely been much talk about Enrique’s well-being.
His back was already soaked with cold sweat. Enrique desperately endured to maintain the appearance of being fine. This was both to maintain good relations within the allied forces and for Anture’s peace of mind. If Anture learned that a Ruben commander had injured Enrique… it would certainly not have a good impact on the capture of Baron’s capital, which required their full effort.
Whether considering Enrique’s physical condition or for some other reason, the speech was short and to the point.
The horn sounded to signal the departure, and the fully equipped soldiers began to move in unison, following their mounted commanders. As it was a considerable force, it took quite some time to see them all off. Finally, when all troops had disappeared from view, Enrique nearly collapsed, leaning on Pol.
“Your Highness!” Pol called out urgently. The guard knights rushed over and carefully lifted Enrique. Having fulfilled his role, Enrique allowed himself to be carried, breathing heavily. He could feel his hair, damp with cold sweat, sticking to the back of his neck.
The attendants removed Enrique’s clothes, almost dismantling them, after he lay on the bed. They began to clean his body, which was drenched in cold sweat. However, they still couldn’t wash his hair. His hair, repeatedly soaked in cold sweat and dried, smelled musty. Even in his pain, Enrique frowned at the unpleasant odor.
“I’d like to wash my hair.”
“That’s not possible. We might accidentally reopen the wound. It’s absolutely forbidden until the doctor allows it,” Pol said with an uncompromising face. Enrique couldn’t insist further and could only pout once.
For about ten days after that, Enrique was confined to bed, unable to move.
This was not only because of the shoulder wound but also to protect the fetus, which might have been startled. Fortunately, after about three days, the attendants managed to wash his hair through their combined efforts. Perhaps due to his naturally healthy body, the wound was healing quickly. Everything was improving except for the throbbing wound and the fact that he couldn’t move the arm on the injured side.
Enrique sat in a chair in the garden, enjoying the outdoor air for the first time in a while. Occasionally feeling the baby move in his belly was about the only entertainment he had.
“Your Highness,” Pol approached and called out. As Enrique looked at him, Pol carefully spoke.
“His Highness the Prince has sent a messenger.”
“Not to the meeting room?”
Since his injury, Enrique had delegated most of his duties to Duke Duvain and only received brief reports on the results.
“It’s not that. It seems His Highness has heard rumors of the assassination attempt. He ordered the messenger to personally confirm Your Highness’s safety.”
“…I hope no unnecessary words were spoken to the messenger?”
“No. No one would have dared to speak carelessly.”
Enrique checked his attire. Wearing a thick coat to protect against the cold wind, no one would be able to tell he was injured as long as he didn’t move his arm.
“Tell him to come,” Enrique said briefly, relaxing his posture even more. He intended to appear as if he was leisurely enjoying the autumn garden scenery.
Shortly after, guided by a knight, the messenger entered the garden. The guard knights, who had already been through one incident, stood tensely behind Enrique.
“I greet the Crown Prince of Shamier,” the messenger prostrated himself at an appropriate distance, paying his respects.
“You must have had a hard journey. What brings you to seek me out personally?” Enrique asked with a composed face.
“There was news of an assassination attempt on Your Highness at Francia Castle. His Highness the Prince ordered me to personally confirm Your Highness’s safety and report back.”
While speaking politely, the messenger’s sharp eyes scrutinized Enrique from head to toe.
“Ah, that incident,” Enrique spoke as if just remembering. He smiled slightly.
“Some insignificant person who held a grudge against me did attempt an assassination. Fortunately, my guard knights successfully thwarted it. Tell Anture not to worry about this minor incident and to focus solely on capturing Baron’s capital. Also, please convey that I’m expecting great spoils of war.”
