I’m All Out of Health!

Chapter 3

I thought of my favorite foods: the crispy pork cutlet they used to sell in front of my school, my mom’s special japchae, and the macarons from my favorite dessert shop. Most of them were not available in this world, and it wasn’t like I could eat any of them in my current condition anyway. But just envisioning them helped to awaken my appetite.

I twitched my hand and beckoned at a maid standing in a corner of the room. I did have a servant’s bell, but there were always maids waiting in the room, and for good reason: I was often too weak to even ring the bell.

“Do you need anything, my lady?”

I blinked instead of nodding, but the maid was used to that. She put her ear near my lips.

“Food…”

Though my arms were limp like a zombie’s, I managed to make an eating motion. The body I was in was so pretty that even such labored movements looked lovely, but there was a hint of frenzy in it.

That frenzy was the desire to survive and escape this hell.

* * *

There used to be this joke when I was little: Finish your food, or you’ll go to hell when you die and be forced to eat all the food you ever left behind on your plate.

I felt like I was in that very hell. I found all the food I was given to be so disgusting. For about three days, I threw up as soon as I ate anything. Now I could fully understand why the original Ninenya had hated both eating and anyone who tried to make her eat.

I used up all of my energy vomiting, and what little food I managed to swallow did very little to improve my health. After vomiting more than ten times in four days, I passed out, and the maids gave up begging me to eat and started pleading with me to stop.

“Butler, you need to stop the lady…”

After that, I gave up on food and moved on to potions that strengthened my digestive system. The fantasy world’s potions turned out to be extremely efficient. After a few days of drinking the potion, I stopped throwing up.

I should have started with this…

But sadly, I still had that nasty nausea every time I drank the thick potion.

Don’t mess with me! I’m a dangerous beast now!

I glowered with rage at everyone and everything that dared to approach me. I would glare at the potion, the maid who’d brought it, and the spoon in her hand. Then I would cry silently as I drank it. I didn’t throw up, but it did make my stomach churn. Still, each time I woke up, I ordered them to bring me another one, and the whole process would repeat itself.

Once I could digest a bit of food, I ate little by little throughout the whole day.

“O-our lady is not possessed by a demon, right?”

“Don’t you dare speak like that! The lady is… Well, she’s just…”

Even I had to admit that my spite was inexplicable by normal standards. I refused to let go of my spoon, and soon they started to whisper that I was being controlled by a ghost who had starved to death in life. But I couldn’t care less. I focused solely on eating, swallowing, digesting, and absorbing the nutrients. And it was only for one reason: I wanted to live.

So I fought my silent war for more than a fortnight. The potion was so bitter that it took away my ability to taste, and they put all kinds of healthy ingredients in my meals that I couldn’t name, but they worked. Ninenya’s body recovered much faster than an ordinary human’s in the world I used to live in. It was a miracle that was possible only because people healed quickly in this world. Here, it took only about a week for broken bones to mend.

Thanks to all this, I got a little healthier after only a fortnight. I even managed to walk a full circle around my bed with legs that were weaker than a newborn giraffe’s.

“Lady Ninenya is walking all by herself!”

I did walk on my own without anyone’s help.

“Open the storage! Let’s have a feast!”

“Today will go down in history as the day our lady walked on her own!”

“D-don’t you dare write that down!”

I was highly embarrassed, but they actually did have a feast without my knowledge.

* * *

The news was quickly delivered to Rubenio, Ninenya’s father.

It was the first time the tides had turned because of her. Rubenio received regular reports about how Ninenya was doing, but that wasn’t enough to relieve him. So he sometimes sent someone trustworthy to check on her, ordering them to report anything that happened to her, good or bad. He had been hearing about his daughter in this way for the last twenty years, and yet this was the first time he’d heard that she was eager to live.

“The child is sick.”

“She has a cold.”

“She is suffering from severe symptoms.”

“She probably won’t make it through the winter.”

He had received numerous such negative reports. And when Ninenya turned twenty, he was told once again that she would soon die. He needed her to hang on just a little longer.

Rubenio remained silent for a long time. It was that much of a serious matter to him.

“Butler, can you estimate how much he has improved?”

“Are you speaking of Count Adelman, my lord?”

“I’ve always wondered how perfect he can be when there is no room for error.”

“I trust your judgment, my lord.”

“I’ve been concerned about too many things, believing it to be a burden I will never be free of. I shall remove the assassination spell.”

“My lord!”

“I will buy as much time as possible. Convey to him what I said. I now need him to uphold his promise.”

That was the conclusion Rubenio reached after thinking about the letter for the thousandth time.

“Now that you want to live, I will do anything I can for you. So please…”

Don’t cry. Don’t be sick.

He swallowed the words he couldn’t say to his daughter as he completely changed course.

* * *

After that nightmarish fortnight, I was able to eat on my own. My wrist was still weak, so I often dropped my spoon and spilled my food, but I insisted on doing it myself.

“Oh!”

Splash! Now there was a yellow pumpkin stain in the shape of a spoon on the white tablecloth.

“Pathetic. I’ve lost count!”

I scowled hard at the dirty table. Once or twice would have been fine, but I would spill food dozens of times just to have one meal, and it was driving me crazy.

“A three-year-old baby would make less of a mess than this.”

I made up my mind to try harder and attempted another spoonful, but then the gazes I’d been trying to ignore became even more intense.

“Did you see that? Th-the lady just…”

“Silence, all of you! We cannot disturb her!”

“But…”

“Fine. Then just whisper, okay?”

Without a word, I had another spoonful of soup. I didn’t spill any this time, and the housekeeper gave up trying to calm herself and the others.

She raised both hands high into the air and shouted, “It’s a miracle!”

Then all the other maids jumped up and down, cheering, “Lady Ninenya is eating by herself!”

“And she’s already had three spoonfuls!”

“Maybe she’ll finish the soup all by herself!”

“Of course! Our lady can do it!”

They seemed to be keeping their voices low, trying not to be heard, but hearing happened to be one of the few senses still intact in this body.

They’re praising me for this? Not mocking me?

I looked down at the trail of soup stains, which stretched out like Hansel and Gretel’s breadcrumbs. If they were trying to train me like a dog, it was working. I was only human, so I couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride sometimes—like now.

Well, I guess I really know how to use a spoon.

But then a strong sense of embarrassment creeped in, making me shudder in fear.

Those people are scary. They really know how to manipulate me.

There was no telling what kind of ridiculous thoughts I would have had if I let them get in my head. They were all eager to praise me, but I desperately tried not to notice.

“Yay!”

They cheered when I turned my head to look away. They clapped happily, which made it very hard for me to ignore them.

What on earth are they so delighted about?

They were creepy and very strange.

“Lady Ninenya! You can do this! We believe in you!”

Please, just stop it…