Eleina suggested I use the kitchen designated for cheese-making.
The cheese kitchen, present since the mansion was bestowed by the royal family, was intended for converting milk from nearby farms into cheese. However, none of the current residents of the mansion enjoyed cheese.
Since Eleina gets upset stomachs from dairy products, there was no need for a dedicated cheese-making maid, leaving the space unutilized, so she told me to use it as I pleased.
I had wondered what excuse to make when going to the herbalist street or asking for the kitchen. Surprisingly, Eleina agreed easily, perhaps because I had recently returned from death and she was treating me with extra care and caution. Given the grueling etiquette lessons for the upcoming banquet, she seemed willing to let me do what I wanted for the day.
The cheese kitchen, located on the ground floor, had a small, sturdy wooden door leading directly to the garden and large sliding windows, ideal for ventilation.
What I liked most was the thick hearth with a large cast-iron pot hanging over it.
Eleina told me I could use all the utensils previously used for cheese-making. A thick wooden counter in the middle of the kitchen seemed useful for preparing medicines.
“Shall I start in earnest?”
I first sorted the herbs according to how they needed to be processed – those to be washed and dried, soaked in alcohol to remove toxins, or just dusted as their properties easily dissipate.
“I could have done this more easily if the pharmacy was still intact.”
I couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret.
After meticulously preparing the herbs, I laid out the cooking tools in the kitchen. Without my usual equipment, I had to use whatever tools were available in the kitchen.
“This is not easy…”
Preparing the medicine required various techniques to efficiently extract the medicinal properties – cutting, boiling, drying, roasting, infusing, collecting distillate, and blending. Special tools facilitated these processes, and I had even custom-ordered some. But now, with nothing at hand, I had to improvise with available tools.
“Still, it feels good to make medicine after a long time.”
Humming and singing softly to myself, I started extracting the medicine for Ian.
Red blood dripped drop by drop from the palm that Ian had cut as if by accident.
The servants around him, pale-faced as if a great disaster had occurred, clamored, “Blood from His Highness, the Crown Prince!”, “How can such a precious body be wounded…”, “We must call the royal physician immediately!”
Ian refused their suggestions to call the palace physician, insisting he would not receive treatment unless it was from Jane. The servants looked at him as if he were a stubborn child, but he ignored them.
More blood flowed from the self-inflicted wound than expected. Feeling dizzy, Ian buried himself deep in his bed.
His eyelids grew heavy.
Afraid he might fall asleep before she arrived, he pressed hard on the wound in his palm. The sharp pain brought some clarity to his dazed mind.
‘I must stay awake until Jane comes…’
He concentrated on the sounds from the corridor.
Unlike the servants, who moved silently as if dead, her footsteps were light and lively, like the heartbeat of a small animal – agile, bouncy, and full of energy. They also sounded hurried.
As her steps approached the door, he clenched his torn palm tightly. He prepared an expression of unbearable pain, looking pitifully distressed.
The door opened, and Jane entered with her unruly red hair fluttering. She rushed in, breathing heavily, her chest heaving.
Ian, seeing her face contorted with worry, struggled to suppress the smile that threatened to spread across his lips.
“Your Highness, they said you were injured! How badly are you hurt?”
“It’s not a severe wound.”
“Good heavens! Look at all this blood.”
Her face, pale with concern for him, was so endearingly lovely that Ian felt a tingling sensation near his heart. He bit his lower lip to contain the weak smile seeping out. Jane’s gestures as she examined Ian’s palm were cautious.
“For goodness’ sake…”
When she removed the blood-soaked gauze, the messily torn wound was exposed.
“Why didn’t you call a physician if you were injured like this?”
“I was waiting for Jane.”
She looked at Ian with reproachful eyes.
“You know I don’t like strangers touching me. Especially physicians.”
Her expression softened at Ian’s pitiable words. She sighed deeply and examined his wound.
“The wound is too big, it needs to be stitched.”
“Let Jane do it.”
“I’m an apothecary, and only an apprentice at that! Treating a noble’s wound should be a physician’s job!”
“I don’t want anyone else. Only Jane.”
She tried to persuade Ian with a troubled face.
“I can hardly sew buttons properly, let alone stitch human skin! I’ve barely done it a few times!”
“But you have done it, right?”
“I had no one else to do it… It was dreadful.”
The Villainous Demon Lord Laid an Egg for Her (Female-Dominated)
Several months after transmigrating into a book, Yu Wu found herself facing the demon lord Li You, who could no longer conceal his dragon horns. With one hand on her aching waist and the other gripping a sharp sword, she stared at him.
The demon lord’s eyes were red with fury:
“This is all your doing! Today, I won’t rest until I kill you!”
Yu Wu rubbed her temples. Putting aside the taboo against bloodshed during pregnancy, wasn’t it this very man who willingly walked into her trap that day?!
Warnings:
- Male pregnancy.
- Height ratios are set to mirror typical male-female height proportions.
- Characters include a foot-loving demon lord and an eldest daughter from an immortal family’s concubine lineage.
