Chapter 42: I Am Angry!
“So, kind sir, could you pray tell us how a man who did not win the lottery managed to gain a ticket?” Eli tried to hold back her anger, but disgust filled her at her own words. She lashed out in the end.
“You stole them, didn’t you?! That ticket was for the poor and helpless citizens of Shadowstep, not for greedy men like you! Jadenbale, send this man to the dungeon!”
At her accusation, Jadenbale straightened his posture. The knights who had been cheering earlier stood frozen—the glowering festivities flipped upside down as the implication, the fact that a crime had been committed. A crime of stealing from the weak. gazes of accusation snapped toward the evil merchant.
“No! I did not steal them, Milady! I bought them from a friend! I swear! I’m a merchant from the capital!” the man pleaded.
Eli’s vision turned red. Her hard work had fallen flat, like throwing salt into the sea—a futile effort. She wanted to help her people, the poor ones — but they had betrayed her. They did not appreciate her in the slightest. Mere gold had swayed their gratitude.
“I’m going home! Cancel this event now!” Eli shouted, storming out of the clinic. Her heart burned as tears welled at the corners of her eyes. She marched back to the mansion in silence.
Panicked, Jadenbale ordered the knights to dismiss the crowd before following Elidranthia back to the mansion. Her outburst had completely caught him off guard. If the merchant had stolen or extorted the ticket, Jadenbale could understand her fury—but the man bought it. That confused him deeply. What had made Elidranthia so angry?
“Greetings, Lady Elidranthia! Did you finish your healing charity already? That was fast—as expected of the first mage of Shadowstep. Shall I have Elena and Alicia bake cookies and sweet iced tea for you?” Rodrique bowed as he saw Elidranthia stormed the hallway of the mansion, unaware of the storm boiling inside Eli’s heart.
“I’m not healing anyone else! Just close the clinic!” Eli shoved past Rodrique. Etiquette was the least of her worries. Seeing how a mild-mannered lady could explode like that left Rodrique stunned; he only gawked as her footsteps pounded across the innocent floor. The poor door of her bedroom was then slammed with such force that its echo rippled through the mansion.
“Sir Jadenbale?” Rodrique turned to him for answers. Jadenbale had worked as her bodyguard for this event, so he should know the details. Calmly, he explained what had transpired—a merchant from outside had bought a ticket meant for Shadowstep citizens.
“I thought something like this might happen, but I never imagined Lady Elidranthia would be so furious. What should we do now? Sir Jadenbale, do you know from whom he bought the ticket?”
“There were only ten people who received tickets, so we can track them. Should we apprehend them?” Jadenbale said.
“But what offense did they commit? They only sold what was theirs, right?” Rodrique shrugged. To him, the lottery ticket wasn’t government relief—it was a valuable commodity.
“They misused our lady’s benevolence,” Jadenbale argued. “She offered to heal these poor men for free, yet they profited from it. Do you know how much they would have to pay for such treatment in other duchies—or under normal conditions?”
“But as long as people are getting healed, it shouldn’t matter, right?” Rodrique replied, confused. It was one thing if the tickets were wasted or discarded, but if patients were still being healed, then the benevolence wasn’t wasted. Who knew whether the merchant who was healed might contribute more to the community than the original ticket holder?
“Well… true. But now that our lady is furious and threatening to close the clinic, there’s nothing we can do. We can’t demand that she heal our people for free unless she chooses to—the Mage Guild would have our heads. Normally, such treatment costs hundreds of gold coins per patient. Those fifty people she’s healed would have cost Shadowstep’s entire annual budget if we had to pay her.” Rodrique continued, his eyebrow curved into a frown, troubled by this new mess that had reared its head.
He had asked Jadenbale and the crowd to cheer and honor their lady’s benevolence—to keep her spirits up. Everything had gone so smoothly that he let down his guard. Eli had always been such a kind and obedient girl that Rodrique never expected her to lash out like that.
“Huh? Wait a minute. If the clinic is closed, what about the merchants and nobles who are coming later? Our count extended his invitation to them—they’ll be arriving in a week!”
Jadenbale had hit a sore spot. Even excluding the peasants they could dismiss at will, there were still about fifteen more noble sons and merchants Count Shadowstep wished to help—so they could owe him a favor.
“Do something. This is your fault. You were responsible as the host for these lotteries.” Rodrique put the ball in his court. He was not a mage; there was nothing he could do if Elidranthia refused to heal anyone. In the first place, child mages were exempt from labor. What they had done already bordered on illegal.
“Sir Rodrique, you can’t be serious.”
“Anyway, try to placate her with sweets, jewelry, or dresses.”
“You know Milady has zero interest in those things. She prefers half bread over wastel—full white bread. Have you seen how she frowns at every piece of jewelry she receives?” Jadenbale said. “The only things she’s ever interested in are swords and daggers!”
“Then we shall give her one. Just this once. Our jobs are on the line,” Rodrique said. Before he could order Jadenbale to find the finest dagger and snacks in the county, an idea struck him.
“Wait a moment, Sir Jadenbale. Let us consult Alicia. She might know how to placate our mistress. She may be an airhead, but she’s her close friend, isn’t she?”
“...Yeah, you’re right. But are you sure that’s wise? I aspire not to speak ill behind one’s back, but she’s as dumb as her swiftclaw, while Lady Elidranthia is as wise as a dragon. Are you sure we should seek her counsel?”
“Even a broken clock is right twice a day. There’s no harm in seeking her counsel when our chances are already slim.”
And so, Jadenbale and Rodrique went to find Alicia, who was playing with her chicken — feeding it potatoes while teaching it tricks like one would a dog. Of course, the stupid bird learned nothing. It was a pack animal, not a hunting dog. All its attention was focused on the carrots and potatoes Alicia occasionally tossed its way. Like a donkey that followed a carrot forward.
“Pioyi!”
“Kwee!” Both smiled and tilted their heads. Alicia ruffled its feathers. Jadenbale and Rodrique blinked at the spectacle, wondering whether they had made the right choice.
This behavior was normal for children. it was Lady Elidranthia who acted above her age, Jadenbale told himself. Children were supposed to do that. Despite Alicia being supposedly over twenty in her previous life, she acted perfectly like eleven years old.
“Ahem. Alicia, do you know that your mistress has returned?” Jadenbale asked.
“Sir Jadenbale, greetings.” Alicia turned toward them and hastily performed a curtsy. Her chicken pecked at her heels. “Yes, I’m aware that Milady has returned. Her angry footsteps echoed through the mansion. I assumed something went wrong with her patients—maybe they didn’t show up, or her tickets were swapped for profit?”
Jadenbale and Rodrique gasped. Alicia had predicted this scenario from the very start, when Eli suggested that the tickets also be given to the poor via lottery instead of only Count Shadowstep’s friends. Alicia’s mind scoffed at Elidranthia’s naivety. She wasn’t against helping others, but if one wished to help strangers, they had to be ready to be betrayed. She had read countless stories on social media about people finding loopholes to profit from kindness—disaster aid and relief sold on Amazon, to name a few.
“Well… that was exactly the case, Miss Alicia.”
“So, why did you come to me? Are you asking me to persuade Lady Elidranthia to continue healing at least Lord Shadowstep’s friends?”
“Ah! How wise of you, Miss Alicia. You are certainly Lady Elidranthia’s friends. That is exactly what we need. So, could we ask you to tend to our lady—and maybe persuade her not to close her clinic? At least not completely.”
“So, what’s in it for me? Why should I do that?”
“....”
“....”
A pregnant silence hung in the air. Unexpected for both men, the cunning Alicia knew better than to work for free. She was open to negotiations—she might lower her price—but she would never work for nothing. Experience had taught her that working for free only led to being exploited.
“Is there anything you want, Alicia?” Jadenbale broke the silence with stiff smile.
“Hm… I want a sword. A nice one! Not the kind normal knights use—the kind that makes you go, ‘Waa! Amazing!’”
Jadenbale and Rodrique looked at each other and thought, Yeah. This girl is an idiot. Their initial respect for Alicia’s sharp deduction and insight dissolved into thin air.
“Well… if you just want a sword…” Rodrique mused, mentally scrolling through his private collection and his acquaintances who sold ceremonial or decorative blades.
“A lady must not wield a sword. That’s a man’s job!”
“Even though there are female knights in Shadowstep?”
“I mean—it’s a knight’s job!” Jadenbale corrected himself quickly.
Alicia sighed. She’d seen this kind of thinking before—textbook toxic masculinity. In the original NovelPhoenix, Eli had been mocked for wielding a sword, despite nearly overpowering her knightly brother.
“I see. Then we’re done talking. Please excuse me; I have to prepare dinner for our lady.”
“Wait, wait! I apologize. Please, help us! We’re at our wit’s end here. If Lady Elidranthia stops healing, our county’s name will be dragged through the gutter. You love this place, right? Will you help us?”
Alicia frowned harder, looking at Jadenbale and Rodrique the way one looks at bugs. She recognized their type anywhere—the type that tried to gaslight people into doing favors. She scoffed.
“No pay, no work. Shadowstep won’t suffer even if the clinic closes — only you will. My loyalty lies with Eli, not Shadowstep. What you’re asking of me is manipulation, and I won’t partake in it any further.”
Alicia stood up. Her head tilted high, her steps wide. Pride exuded from her — she had denied these vile creatures their wish. It felt great.
“Wait, Alicia! You want a sword, right? I know just the one for you.” Jadenbale halted Alicia who was about to leave for the kitchen.
“I don’t desire just any sword. I want the sword of a hero! One that gives the oomph! Like Excalibur, Muramasa, or Andúril!”
“I’ve never heard of those names,” Jadenbale said, “but I can offer you my Épée de Cour — the Sword of the Court. A rapier crafted by Althemer’s court magicians. It shall light the path in the darkness, Its silver blade will vanquish evil, The arcane stone embedded in its hilt will mark you as the sword saintess. It was a keepsake from my father. I will give it to you. Will you help us?”
The sword in question was, in truth, a plain ceremonial rapier — elegant but mundane. It was expensive, sure, worth 2 years of a knight’s salary. The arcane stone embedded in it glowed like a radiant gemstone, but it doesn’t confer special powers. Jadenbale felt guilty; he’d lied. It was forged by an ordinary blacksmith and embedded with a charged arcane stone, a gift from his father when he had become a knight. A true mage-forged sword would cost hundreds of gold — far beyond his means.
“That sounds cool! I’m in! Let me meet Lady Elidranthia right away!”
Alicia, the corrupt, was easily bribed.
Sometimes, it pays to be simple.