How Do You Make a Woman Cry?

In the deep hush before dawn, Blasion sat alone in his study, quietly regarding the hand wrapped layer upon layer in bandages.

It was Lionel who had refused to let him simply walk away.

"It would put my mind at ease. At the very least, let me dress the wound properly. Not that it means much with a fourth-degree burn."

She had been so stubborn about it that Blasion had eventually given in and let her treat him in her examination room — though the treatment itself amounted to little more than disinfecting the burn and wrapping it.

"A serious injury like this might heal slower than usual. Please come back tomorrow so I can check on your progress."

While Lionel drilled the instructions into him, Blasion's mind was somewhere else entirely.

Why did my heart beat?

From long experience, he knew his heart could race when he was injured. But that had only happened with wounds severe enough to cost him a limb, and even then his heart had kept up a light, steady flutter throughout the recovery.

Was there any precedent for a single, violent thud — and then nothing?

"Doctor, how grave an injury is this burn, exactly? Compared to losing an arm or a leg, which is the more serious wound?"

Lionel blinked at the question.

"Losing a limb probably counts as worse, what with all the bleeding involved…… Why do you ask? Is your heart pounding right now? Shall I listen to it with the stethoscope?"

"No, it's nothing like that. I was merely…… curious."

My heart beat because I saw you cry, Doctor.

That much, Blasion could not bring himself to say.

Lionel's eyes had sparkled with expectation for a moment before her shoulders sagged in disappointment.

"……Well, I suppose expecting quick results from a body that shrugged off even the Accelerated Aging Diet is asking too much. Anyway, go get some rest. The sooner you sleep, the sooner you heal."

And so Blasion returned to his study. He sat in silence for a long while, and only straightened in his chair when a knock sounded at the door.

"Your Grace. We've finished sorting things out."

Everlein and Kaylen stepped inside. Both looked exhausted, but their faces were bright — the job had clearly been handled without a loose end.

"First, we stripped the Dorset Viscounty to the bone. We slapped a red seal on the valuables in the manor and on the manor itself, but that came up laughably short, so we've placed a preliminary lien on the orchards as well."

Having delivered his report, Kaylen held out the file he'd prepared. While Blasion reviewed its contents, the second report followed.

"Additionally, testimony has emerged that the Viscount and his wife committed abusive acts against the farmers and servants."

At Everlein's words, Blasion gave a short, humorless laugh.

They'd shrieked at me about having a face worth my station, while they were busy strutting around like the trash they were. "So. How many victims?"

"Around twenty. Beatings, assaults — there were cases of sexual misconduct against minors as well. Accordingly, the couple has been taken into custody, and the son has been sent to the hospital."

"Like father, like son. Filthy vermin, the pair of them."

Kaylen and Everlein both nodded in solemn agreement. Blasion set the documents down and praised the two men.

"Well done."

"It was nothing, sir! We haven't landed something this big in ages — we're practically buzzing! And now we can eat peaches and grapes until we burst!"

"Kaylen. Compose yourself. That is not joyous news to a man in the prediabetic stage."

"Haah…… you always have to jab like that. And it's not just about eating! A fruit orchard is a genuine asset to the duchy!"

As his subordinates bickered as they always did, Blasion sank into thought. Then, abruptly, he called out to them.

"Aide. Knight Commander."

The two men snapped to attention at once.

"Give the order, Your Grace. Is there anyone else to be seized and audited?"

"The knights stand ready at all times."

"It's neither of those."

Blasion had formulated a hypothesis.

When Lionel Frencia cries, my heart beats.

The first time could have been a misfire. Even the second could be written off as coincidence.

But not the third. Three identical reactions, and the hypothesis becomes truth.

And to confirm it……

I suppose I'll simply have to make the Doctor cry again.

Having arrived at his answer, Blasion finally spoke.

"How does one go about making a woman cry?"

The two subordinates, who had been standing at rapt attention, stiffened as if turned to stone.

Seeing their reaction, Blasion realized his mistake — but spilled water could not be un-spilled.

In the span of a single sentence, the Duke of Carseido, possessor of untold wealth and power, had transformed into a dirty old man.

"Your Grace……. That a man who has lived seven hundred and twenty years would ask us such a question is startling enough, but — who on earth are you trying to make cry? Surely not…… Doctor Frencia?"

Kaylen's eyes were full of contempt. Unable to affirm or deny, Blasion gave a grudging, evasive reply.

"That's not what I—"

"Good heavens! To think you would choose to make the Doctor cry — her, who has only just steadied herself after such an ordeal — rather than comfort her like a man of standing…… I, Kaylen, am truly disappointed in you! Good day!"

Thoroughly misled, Kaylen stormed out of the study.

Everlein did not react with quite the same intensity, but he looked no less frosty.

"I am not so base a man that I would answer such a question, Your Grace. Search for your answer alone. I take my leave."

Leaving behind nothing but a gaze of contempt, the Knight Commander, too, walked out.

Blasion stared blankly at the closed door and muttered to himself.

"I'm telling you, it's a misunderstanding."

Three days later, Adrian's medication finally landed in my hands.

Analysis confirmed what I'd suspected from the start: it was a psychotropic drug.

Unfortunately, we couldn't pinpoint exactly which dark mage had supplied it.

"So in the end, the Dorset estate was a victim of the illegal drug trade as well. I'll look into whether this substance has spread anywhere else."

I nodded at Kaylen's report.

"Yes — high society especially. Noble ladies are always desperate to be thin."

"The Magic Tower has agreed to investigate the matter as well, so we should have results soon. ……And, Doctor Frencia. Please, take this."

Kaylen returned my pocket watch, wrapped in a handkerchief. His face was a portrait of apology.

"I'm sorry, Doctor. I went around asking after specialists to have it repaired, but every one of them said it was beyond saving."

"Don't apologize, Aide. Just having it back is more than enough."

Just as he'd said, the watch was utterly wrecked. The minute and second hands were bent, and scorch marks covered the whole of it. There was no chance anything inside had survived intact.

I said bitterly, "……It's stopped completely."

Then, unbidden, the thought struck me: this dead-stopped watch was rather like the Duke himself.

An immortal whose cellular clock had frozen forever, in the body of a twenty-year-old. A wanderer of seven hundred and twenty years, who had lived out his long solitude caring nothing for even his own body being harmed.

So what am I supposed to do now?

The Accelerated Aging operation had failed. And I had no brilliant idea for making the Duke's heart beat.

More than a month of the promised year had already slipped by. I had no room to dawdle.

I was tearing at my hair when something suddenly surfaced in my memory.

Wait. Hold on. There was something in the original novel — a way to bring the Duke to the brink of death, even if it couldn't kill him.

The only problem was that carrying it out would require navigating a rather complicated process.

I hesitated a moment, then called for Kaylen.

"Aide. There's a favor I'd like to ask of you."

"Name it, and it's yours. Whatever the Doctor asks, I'll see it done to the best of my ability."

Kaylen's eyes gleamed. I opened my mouth, feigning a slight hesitancy.

"I…… I'd like to know more about Sir Everlein."

For a heartbeat he simply stared, blank-faced — then Kaylen choked out a gasp and clapped a hand over his own mouth.

"Doctor, don't tell me……?"

"Shh, Aide! It's just a bit of a crush, that's all. If word gets out, I can't work here anymore. So…… you understand…… don't you……?"

I dropped my gaze deliberately and let my words trail off into a mumble. All carefully choreographed, of course.

"Ah — yes. Of course, of course I understand. Haha, so that's how it is. I can't say that ruffian seems like much of a suitor, but…… yes, I'll help you however I can. What exactly do you need from me?"

Wearing an expression of distinct disapproval, Kaylen nonetheless promised his help within moments.

Still playing the shy, smitten girl, I told him what I wanted.

"To start with…… I'd like a full picture of Sir Everlein's daily routine. When he takes his meals, when he trains. Things like that."

"Understood. His schedule is more or less fixed, so I can have it in document form for you almost immediately."

"Thank you so much, Aide! And it must stay strictly between us, all right?"

"Naturally."

Just as I'd expected — people are powerless against their savior. Playing the lovesick maiden to the hilt, I gave Kaylen a deep, grateful bow.

Everlein Carseido.

An orphan who once prowled the back alleys, until he caught the Duke's eye and inherited the name of Carseido on the strength of his swordsmanship alone.

And I knew exactly what other face lay hidden behind that handsome one.

In the original novel, The Unfading Flower, he made only a brief appearance before swiftly meeting a miserable end.

Because Everlein Carseido was the dark mage's informant.