The Apothecary Diaries by Natsu Hyuuga

Author:Natsu Hyuuga [HYUUGA, NATSU]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: J-Novel Club
Published: 2023-05-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12: Bad Cooking

A few meager snowflakes drifted from a leaden sky.

“I thought it was getting colder. Look—it’s snowing,” said Yao, breathing on fingers red from doing the laundry. If En’en had seen her hands in that state, she would have been ready with the bandages in no time flat.

“And to think, it was clear last night,” Maomao said. She thought back to how lovely the stars had looked in the sky. In winter, chill and clarity were intertwined. Her old man had told her it was because without any clouds in the sky, the heat the air accumulated during the day quickly escaped. “The garden party’s going to be rough going if it doesn’t warm up a little.”

“Yeah.” They both acted like it didn’t concern them. They picked up the bucket of washing and headed back to the medical office. Today was, in fact, the very day of the garden party—and sadly, it indeed didn’t involve Maomao this year. Several of the physicians had been assigned to attend at the banquet, but that was all.

“Hey, do you see that? Looks like quite a crowd,” Yao said. They could see a stream of people, soldiers and bureaucrats alike—many more bureaucrats than one ordinarily saw in this part of the palace.

Maomao clapped her hands when she realized they all appeared to be heading for the toilets. “They must be attending the garden party. They’re all taking advantage of one last chance to do their business before the banquet starts. You can’t leave during the meal.”

“Don’t you think we’re a little far from the party, though?”

“Only the bigwigs get to use the closest place.” Maomao knew because she’d experienced it herself a couple of years earlier. Not having a readily accessible toilet had been a real trial.

“Including His Majesty?”

“I’m pretty sure they build a new one specifically for His Majesty’s use.” You couldn’t have the Emperor doing his business in any old restroom where who knew who had done who knew what. That was both the privilege and the curse of standing at the top of the nation’s hierarchy.

Yao abruptly halted.

“Something wrong?” Maomao asked.

“Maomao... Let’s not go this way,” Yao said, grabbing Maomao’s hand.

“It’s the fastest route, though.”

“There’s someone I don’t want to see over there.”

She sent off in a new direction, away from the milling officials. So there was someone among the soldiers and secretaries trooping to the toilets that she wanted to avoid. Maomao certainly sympathized with the desire not to run into a particular person.

I wonder who it could be, though. Who might Yao know among the officialdom? Her uncle—her current guardian—perhaps. Or maybe it was one of the potential prospects her uncle had tried to set her up with. Knowing the answer wouldn’t have done Maomao any specific good, so she obediently followed Yao away.

No sooner had they gotten back to the medical office than En’en homed in on Yao. “Young mistress!”

“En’en,” Yao said slowly, “I’m a little cold.” Her cheeks and ears were indeed red, and En’en was quick to bring a blanket and some hot ginger tea.

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