The Apothecary Diaries: Volume 12 [Parts 1 to 7] by Natsu Hyuuga

Author:Natsu Hyuuga
Language: eng
Format: epub

Chapter 7: The Inheritance

Maomao was nursing a throbbing headache.

This... This is it!

She was experiencing that fabled thing called a hangover. She wasn’t sure it counted as a hangover if it hadn’t been an entire day, but having a headache after you stopped being drunk was one of the primary symptoms, wasn’t it?

Rattling along in the carriage only made her feel even worse. It wasn’t pleasant, and yet...

“Ahh! This is something new!”

Maomao was downright moved to experience something she never had before. It felt a bit like being bitten by a highly venomous snake. And there was a poisonous herb she’d eaten once that had given her nausea like this—which one was it, again? She was enjoying searching her memory for it.

“You don’t look like you’re quite better, Miss Maomao. Do you tend to be a happy drunk?” Chue asked.

“There’s just a little bit left in me that didn’t come up. A happy drunk? Ha ha ha! Oh, if there’s any of those mushrooms left, give them to me. I’d like to enjoy this a little longer.”

“Even Miss Chue is going to get tired of this,” she said. “Anyway, I’ll go see about those mushrooms.”

Maomao didn’t know for certain how powerful the “drunken shrooms” really were, but she had heard that even a full day after you ate them, alcohol could still have an outsized effect on you. It wasn’t like you could never drink again, but it was best to steer clear for a while.

A real shame, actually, since they’d gotten some wine as a souvenir.

“Hmm, Miss Chue would feel bad having to make you vomit again. I wonder if there’s anything left to come up but stomach juices.”

“It’s all right. I’m feeling much better. Please stop flexing your fingers and trying to stick them in my mouth. Say, you don’t have anything to write with, do you?”

Chue offered her parchment and a writing instrument. She didn’t have a brush, though, just a pen, so it was hard to use. The ink went everywhere as Maomao tried to write with the ungainly instrument. In the bouncing carriage, her handwriting looked almost as unsteady as her stomach.

“What’s that?” Chue asked, peeking over her shoulder.

“Here. I made a note of the mushroom I think was in that soup, along with quantity of alcohol. This is what kind of effect I’ve observed at various time intervals from ingesting it. I’m thinking I’ll continue to make new entries every thirty minutes. So please give me the rest of the mushrooms.”

You had to be sure to repeat the important things.

“You seem to be having a lot of fun for someone who looks so pale, Miss Maomao.”

“Yeah, you almost make me think of Sir Lahan,” Lihaku said. What a strange person to think of. A dark expression overtook Maomao’s pallid face, and she felt herself get a little less drunk.

“Please don’t mention such untoward names. Wait... Do you know him, Master Lihaku?”

Maomao considered the matter. Even if Lihaku and Lahan knew each other, she had a way of not remembering things that didn’t personally interest her.

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