WTSP - 21

What is this? Do I need to take a doping test or something?

Had the tea Count Phainus sent yesterday contained not Gearaman but some kind of steroid instead?

Even if that were the case, I hadn’t touched a drop of it...

Endless confusion filled my mind.

Just two days ago, wielding a wooden sword with both hands was a struggle, and now I could move it effortlessly as if it weighed nothing.

Testing it out, I swung the sword through the air. There wasn’t even the sensation of swinging something—just an impossibly light feeling.

It’s so effortless.

Rovair, who had been watching the scene unfold, wore an expression of utter bewilderment.

How could the Empress, who had nearly collapsed from exhaustion just a week ago, now wield a wooden sword after starting physical training? It made no logical sense.

With a perplexed look, Rovair extended his hand toward me.

“Your Highness, may I borrow the wooden sword for a moment? I’d like to examine it.”

In a daze, I handed him the sword.

As he turned it over in his hands, inspecting it closely, Rovair muttered under his breath, barely audible, “What on earth is going on here?” He seemed just as shocked as I was.

After a long moment of deep thought, he retrieved another wooden sword—one significantly heavier than the first—and held it out to me with both hands.

“Would you mind trying this one? Be careful—it’s quite heavy.”

At first glance, this new sword was clearly much bulkier and heavier than the previous one.

I cautiously took it into my hands, only to be astonished yet again.

“It’s not exactly light... but it’s manageable.”

“Did you perhaps train alone without me knowing?”

“No, I haven’t stepped foot in the training grounds since the day before yesterday—I’ve been too out of it. Besides, how could my stamina improve this drastically in just two days?”

While testing the weightier sword by swinging it around, an unreal hypothesis crossed my mind.

Over the past few days, it was undeniable that my body had improved compared to Ophelia’s former condition.

But reaching the level of an average person should have taken at least six months of consistent effort.

This isn’t normal. Could it be the purple-haired man from last night?

Or perhaps it was Pompoo’s doing.

After all, the only entity around me capable of such feats would be Pompoo. Just as they had transferred Ophelia’s memories to me, maybe they had also imbued me with some mysterious power.

For now, it seemed like the most rational explanation.

I resolved to ask Pompoo about it once I returned to my room. Shaking off the unease gnawing at me, I forced a smile toward Rovair.

“Well, since this is how things are, let’s look on the bright side. At least I won’t be fainting left and right anymore.”

“But what if someone has cast magic on Your Highness?”

“Magic? Surely not. There aren’t any magicians around me.”

Well, except for the elemental spirit—but that didn’t count.

The number of registered magicians in the Carlot Empire barely reached several hundred. Their abilities were rare and valuable enough that all magicians fell under strict state supervision. More than half of them served directly under the Imperial Court.

Given their status, it was unlikely that a magician would casually visit my chambers in the middle of the night.

Taking a deep breath, I adjusted my posture and assumed the basic stance of fencing.

Though the curved blade of a saber felt different from what I was used to, the general form wasn’t far off.

Advancing, retreating, lunging... Watching me move, Rovair spoke up quietly.

“Your Highness, where did you learn that particular technique? I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“Oh, this... Well, it’s a bit of a long story...”

Explaining the forty-four techniques of modern fencing suddenly felt like exposing a secret. A wave of embarrassment washed over me.

Racking my brain for a plausible excuse, I eventually blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“It’s a style that originates from a country in the East, I believe. Before entering the palace, I often read books on swordsmanship back at the estate...”

“Your Highness, you say?”

Despite my flimsy excuse, Rovair maintained a serious demeanor. As the deputy commander of the Imperial Guard, he likely hadn’t encountered these stances before either.

Fencing was often described as chess played with the body—a sharp yet delicate sport.

Its philosophy was fundamentally different from the knightly combat aimed at overpowering opponents. Using fencing techniques solely for self-defense clearly had its limitations.

“Actually, Sir Rovair, I’d like to learn practical combat techniques from you.”

“If that is your wish, dozens—even hundreds—of knights are ready to serve and protect you.”

“True, but I want to take responsibility for protecting myself. I’ve heard His Majesty is an exceptional swordsman.”

Though I had never personally witnessed Serdel wielding a blade, I knew he was as skilled as the head of the Knights. After all, I had created that detail myself—it had to be true.

“Even though His Majesty has many more knights than I do, he still trains regularly.”

After a moment of hesitation, Rovair finally nodded upon seeing the determination in my eyes.

“...Very well. But promise me you won’t push yourself to the point of injury.”

“Of course. Thank you again, Sir Rovair.”

With a confident smile, I extended my hand to him. Though I still couldn’t explain why my strength had suddenly surged, I felt optimistic about being able to move like a proper human being for once.

________________________________________

“Are you absolutely sure it wasn’t you, Pompoo?”

“Pom! Pooo… Pom?”

“Of course, I assumed it was you. Then how on earth did this happen...?”

After a brief sword training session, I returned to my room and immediately threw the question at Pompoo with an anxious heart.

Pompoo, whose fur had grown soft and fluffy after what seemed like a long nap, tilted its head in confusion at my words.

Then, it began shaking its head left and right, as if emphatically denying any involvement.

For a moment, I wondered if it was lying, but those clear, bright black-bean-like eyes melted away all suspicion. There was no reason for Pompoo to deceive me.

“So, could it be that I unknowingly ingested some kind of drug...?”

“Pom pom...”

Pompoo looked utterly adorable as it contemplated the situation with utmost seriousness—or at least, what passed for seriousness in its tiny, fuzzy brain.

How could I handle such a lovable creature? I nuzzled my cheek against its soft white fur while organizing my thoughts.

“I haven’t eaten anything suspicious lately...”

Just then, Lena’s cheerful voice echoed from beyond the door, asking if she could come in. I walked over and opened the door for her.

Lena stared at me wide-eyed, like a surprised rabbit, at my seemingly miraculous recovery after just one day.

“Your Highness! Are you feeling better? I brought your morning medicine.”

“Yes, I feel refreshed after a good night’s sleep. I don’t think I’ll need the medicine anymore.”

“The effects must have been incredible... The imperial physician will surely puff up with pride!”

“Ah, that’s right! The medicine!”

Why hadn’t I thought of that earlier?

I suddenly remembered swallowing the bitter powder prescribed by the physician just before collapsing last night. It had tasted so bitter it almost numbed my tongue.

Could someone have cast magic on that medicine? While the mystery wasn’t fully resolved, it made some sense now.

“I should probably meet with the physician later.”

“His Majesty might reward him greatly! He was so worried about Your Highness.”

“That… sounds more like wishful thinking, doesn’t it?”

Lena clasped her hands together dreamily, muttering to herself as though cheering on the protagonists of a romance drama.

The problem was, I wasn’t the female lead of this story.

“By the way, what’s with the wine bottle in your hand, Lena?”

“Oh, right! The viscount sent it for Your Highness.”

“Huh? I don’t drink much, though.”

“Aww, even if Your Highness doesn’t drink, His Majesty loves wine!”

The Meredith family estate was renowned for producing high-quality grapes and wines.

Their wine was considered the finest in the empire, a fact I was well aware of. But why send it to me? Wouldn’t it make more sense to give it directly to Serdel?

Reading the bewilderment on my face, Lena shrugged.

“I’m not entirely sure, but perhaps the viscount hopes this will give you another chance to speak with His Majesty.”

“So he’s sending me as a messenger?”

“Maybe he wishes for the two of you to grow closer?”

Is this the fate of empresses in romance novels? Being used as pawns for their family’s honor didn’t sit well with me.

Since the founding of the empire, many empresses had earned the emperor’s favor, and their families naturally gained power because of it.

“Delivering wine isn’t difficult, but I don’t like the underlying motive.”

With a sour expression, I accepted the bottle. It was likely one of the highest-quality wines produced in the estate.

Reaching for a candy from the glass jar on the side table, I nodded reluctantly and popped it into my mouth. The sweet sugary flavor danced on my tongue.

“Strike while the iron is hot—they say. Let’s go now.”

“While the iron is... Huh? Now?”

“Yes. Though delivering alcohol in the morning feels a bit odd. Pompoo, wait here for a bit.”

Pompoo was busy playing with a bundle of yarn it had found somewhere. Hopefully, it wouldn’t wander off while I was gone.

Lena offered to carry the wine for me, but I shook my head and declined.

A few days ago, I wouldn’t have been able to hold the wine bottle without collapsing. But now, thanks to this mysterious newfound strength, I could manage easily.

And so, holding the crimson bottle of wine, I set off toward Serdelius’s office.

It was early spring, with the first warm rays of sunlight peeking through the budding trees.