Long pain… or short pain?
That question seemed to hang right in front of Miss Crownguard's eyes.
A few seconds later, she made her choice. She took a deep breath, clenched her teeth, tipped her head back—and downed the small bowl of green liquid in one gulp.
Instantly, Lux was not okay.
Her pupils shrank, her face went pale, and her tiny frame swayed like she might topple over at any second.
Fiora and Sona swallowed hard and looked away in sympathy.
There was a kind of bitter that was painful just to watch.
Then Lux stuffed the mouthful of medicine into the right side of her mouth. As she shifted it, her right cheek puffed up little by little.
Weirdly adorable.
Her lips were sealed tight, her eyes squeezed shut, and her whole body tensed as she fought the bitterness with everything she had.
Less than a minute later, she cracked her eyes open and looked pitifully at Luke—full of desperate hope.
Like she was asking: "Has it been five minutes yet?"
Luke shook his head. "It's only been thirty seconds."
Lux immediately shut her eyes again.
A little while later, she opened them and looked at him again.
Luke said, "Only a minute and a half."
Lux's face went even whiter. She looked like she was about to cry, but she still stubbornly closed her eyes again.
Time had never moved so slowly in her life.
Almost every thirty seconds, she'd open her eyes to check with Luke.
Luke waited patiently beside her.
Only when it was just about time did he finally speak up on his own. "Alright. Spit it out into the flowerbed."
The moment Lux heard that, she practically sprinted on tiny legs toward the flowers and—waaah!—spat the whole mouthful out.
Even so, the bitterness still clung to her tongue.
Yurna Doer stepped forward and handed her the cup of rinse she'd prepared ahead of time.
Lux shot her a grateful look. She didn't even bother speaking—she took the cup and dumped it into her mouth, gargled a few times, then "watered" the flowerbed too.
Only then did she finally feel a little better, panting in short breaths.
Luke stared at the little bowl, clicking his tongue in amazement. "Didn't think you'd actually drink all of it."
Still recovering, Lux froze. "I… didn't have to drink all of it?"
"Nope."
"Then why didn't you tell me sooner?!"
"You didn't ask."
"?"
Lux managed to produce a single question mark, then stood up and bared her teeth at Luke, who was wearing the most innocent expression imaginable.
But the moment she did, she felt something… different.
Forgetting her urge to murder this jerk, she touched her right cheek. In the next second, her eyes lit up.
"It… doesn't hurt anymore."
Somehow, without her even noticing, the toothache on the right side had completely vanished.
She tried grinding her teeth—no pain at all. That meant the medicine really worked.
Luke smiled faintly. To him, a toothache didn't even qualify as an illness.
Fiora asked from the side, "You know medicine too?"
Sona also looked over, curious.
Toothaches were something everyone dealt with sooner or later. Sometimes just getting overheated could set one off, and when it got bad enough, you didn't even dare bite anything firm—one tiny jolt and it felt like your soul was rattling.
Even drinking water, you had to dodge the aching side.
And even with medicine, mild cases still hurt for at least a couple days. Severe ones could last a full week.
Yet Luke mixed up a little liquid and fixed it in five minutes. You had to admit—he had something.
Luke stayed pretty humble about it, nodding. "I know… a tiny bit. Like, a billionth of a bit."
"Yeah?" Fiora's eyes gleamed with interest. "Then take a look at me. Anything wrong?"
Lux and Sona leaned in too, clearly intrigued.
Luke said, "That kind of service costs money."
The instant the words left his mouth, several pairs of eyes turned sharp and hostile.
Over the past few days, their allowance had basically been transferred to him at the card table.
This guy was raking it in—and he still had the nerve to charge them?
"Ahem." Luke coughed, covering his embarrassment, then continued, "Since it's opening day, I'll do a free checkup for you."
He sat down and looked at Fiora. "Hold out your hand."
"Your hand again?" Fiora frowned, confused.
Last time he claimed he could read faces, he told her to hold out her hand.
Now he claimed he knew medicine, and he was still telling her to hold out her hand.
This time, Sona seemed to understand. She made a few quick gestures.
Luke nodded. "Right. I'm checking your pulse. It's one of the classic four steps—observe, listen, smell, and touch. Pulse-reading falls under that last part. By feeling the pulse, you can get a sense of what's going on inside the body."
Demacia's medicine was actually pretty advanced.
Alchemy and potioncraft had always been strong here.
If you got sick, you went to a doctor, got a prescription, and it was brewed into a tonic.
The idea wasn't far from old-school herbal remedies.
They also had some basic medicines to cover common issues, but without certain kinds of modern breakthroughs, there were still illnesses they simply couldn't solve.
Like Luke's mother's condition—if medical techniques were just a bit further along, maybe it could've been treated.
Of course, medicine grew with the times. In any era, birth, aging, sickness, and death were simply part of life.
As for Ionia, their healing arts leaned more toward the body itself—pressure points, pathways of energy, and a deep understanding of the body's internal systems.
Sona came from Ionia, so she'd seen pulse-reading before.
Hearing Luke's explanation, Fiora stopped questioning it. She placed her hand on the table, palm up, tugged her loose sleeve higher, and revealed a smooth, pale forearm.
Luke calmly rested his fingers against her wrist, using three fingertips to feel the pulse.
He didn't press hard. Fiora only felt the warmth of his hand settling into place.
She stayed quiet, waiting.
Luke's pulse check was fast. Honestly, one glance was enough for him to tell if something was off—this was just confirming it.
"You're basically healthy," Luke said slowly. "But you've got strain along your waist and the back of your shoulder. Do you sometimes feel a dull ache when you move?"
Fiora's eyes flickered. She nodded. "Yes."
Now she truly believed Luke could diagnose—and that he was good at it.
She'd never told anyone about that pain. Only she knew.
Yet he'd noticed just from checking her pulse.
"You should take it seriously," Luke went on in that unhurried, steady tone. "If you overdo it, sometimes the damage doesn't fully reverse. Young bodies recover well, sure—but that doesn't mean you can push them endlessly."
The way he spoke, composed and measured, nearly made Fiora feel like there was an ancient, silver-haired physician sitting across from her.
After a moment, she asked, "So what do I do?"
"Massage, or needle therapy, both help. And medicated baths," Luke said. Seeing her expectant look, he continued, "Massage takes longer—about twice a week. Two weeks should do it."
"Needle therapy is every other day—three sessions total. It's a technique where fine needles stimulate specific points, helping circulation and easing tension, with other benefits too."
"Medicated baths are the most expensive—you need a lot of ingredients, and you soak once a day. But the results are best. It clears fatigue, helps your skin, conditions your body—lots of upside."
Then Luke fell quiet.
Waiting for Fiora's choice.
Fiora considered the three options and couldn't help lifting her eyes to Luke.
Obviously, aside from the medicated bath, the other two would involve Luke doing it personally.
But money was tight lately—she'd lost a lot to him at the card table. A daily medicated bath was out of the question.
So that left two.
Massage… or needle therapy?
She'd never experienced massage before.
Staring at Luke, Fiora hesitated, then finally deflated and said coolly, "Needle therapy."
Luke nodded. "Then it'll have to be tonight. This afternoon I'll pick up a proper set of silver needles."
Having just obtained Return-to-Roots–level medical skill, he naturally wanted to show off a little. What was the point of having something this good if he never used it?
Fiora's strain hadn't reached the worst stage yet—but if she kept ignoring it, it would flare up sooner or later.
"Next."
Luke was really starting to look like some deep, seasoned old doctor.
Sona, sitting beside Fiora, immediately placed her hand on the table, eyes bright with curiosity as she looked at Luke.
Her forearm was slimmer, but not bony—hands and arms well cared-for, the kind you got from years of playing music.
Luke used the same three-finger pulse check. In moments, he had an answer.
"Not too many problems," Luke said, looking at Sona. "But lately… have you been feeling like your shoulders are unusually heavy?"
The moment he said it, Sona startled, eyes widening as if to say, How do you know?!
Luke smiled faintly, thinking: even without checking, this one was obvious.
The cause was practically written in bold letters.
Hearing that, Fiora's gaze drifted from Sona's face downward—then she went silent and looked away again.
Lux, finally recovered, also immediately looked at Sona's chest.
A flicker of envy flashed in her eyes. Then she lowered her gaze, looked down at herself—saw her shoes—and suddenly wanted to cry.
Whatever those two were thinking, Luke had no idea.
He only met Sona's questioning look and said, "The solutions are basically the same as before. Yours, though… is more serious than Fiora's."
Because Sona's "cause" was something that followed her long-term.
Fiora's strain came from training too hard and never giving her body a break—natural enough.
Sona grew a little nervous, her eyes asking what she should do.
Luke smiled. "I recommend needle therapy together with medicated baths. Those two have the strongest effect and will ease it the most."
Sona nodded obediently, eyes basically saying, Then I'll do those two!
Her heavy-shoulders problem had bothered her for a long time. Sometimes she could barely keep her back straight—maybe she'd been practicing too much.
After all, the Etwahl really was a bit heavy.
She'd even had her sister rub her shoulders before, but it never helped much in the end.
But now, Luke's words felt extremely trustworthy.
"Me! Me next!"
Lux dragged over a small stool and sat beside them, eagerly thrusting out her hand.
Luke glanced at her and placed his fingers on her wrist.
Seconds ticked by.
Lux stared at Luke's face—then suddenly saw his relaxed expression sink.
Her heart dropped.
It was completely different from the look he'd had while checking Fiora and Sona.
Lux got nervous and asked carefully, "Is… something wrong?"
Luke withdrew his hand, sighed, and looked at Lux with sudden gentleness. "From now on… eat whatever you want."
Lux: "???"
There were two things you never wanted to hear at the doctor's.
One: the doctor was smiling and chatting, then suddenly their expression turned grim.
Two: the doctor patted your shoulder and said, "Eat whatever you want."
And she'd gotten both.
Panic slammed into Lux's chest.
But a second later, she narrowed her eyes at Luke and darkened her expression. "You're messing with me again, aren't you?"
Luke chuckled and admitted it immediately. "Yep. I'm messing with you."
Lux: (╯‵□′)╯︵┻━┻
Seeing him admit it so shamelessly, Lux nearly exploded.
But she also couldn't do anything to him, so she sat there fuming.
Her expression turned ominous, eyes fixed on Luke like she was drafting an assassination plan.
Luke saw that look and—yeah, he panicked a little.
The odds of getting bitten by a little blonde menace were low.
But not zero.
He cleared his throat. "By the way, I've been experimenting with a new dessert. Caramel pudding."
Lux's attention snapped back. She shot him a look but didn't speak, only huffed.
Fiora and Sona both knew exactly who Luke was talking to.
So the two of them kept playing five-in-a-row like normal and didn't comment.
"Well, fine." Luke sighed. "If nobody wants it, I'll just make a normal breakfast."
No one responded.
Luke stood up and strolled toward the kitchen.
Lux watched his back. Her curiosity won out in the end. After hesitating, she got up and hurried after him.
She wasn't even mad anymore. Blinking, she asked, "Is it good?"
Luke snorted internally, but on the outside he just glanced at her. "Would I bring it up if it wasn't?"
"Then can we have that this morning?"
"Alright." Luke made it sound like a huge concession. "I'll show you what I've got."
"Yes! Yes!" Lux instantly brightened, anticipation sparkling in her eyes.
Luke busied himself in the kitchen.
Pudding took time, but he'd gotten up early—still not quite eight.
By nine, it would be ready.
The sky remained overcast. Normally, weather like this meant rain was on the way.
But not a drop fell.
Luke actually liked rainy days. That kind of steady, not-too-heavy rain—listening to it patter and rush—always loosened something inside him.
"Food's up!"
Luke carried several breakfasts to the table.
The girls had already smelled it and were waiting before he even called them over.
Now that the food was in front of them, they all looked intrigued.
Five servings in total. Each person had a pudding in front of them, and there was other food too—though next to the pudding, everything else seemed dull by comparison.
They examined the look first.
It resembled a smooth, glossy custard—pale yellow, neatly molded with ridges around the sides. On top was a layer of caramel glaze that even caught the light, making it look especially tempting.
Curious, Lux took her fork and gently poked it.
The pudding wobbled instantly, springy and bouncy, almost playful.
Her pretty eyes lit up. She scooped a small bite and slid it into her mouth.
The moment it touched her tongue, Lux felt like her life was complete. Her eyes drifted shut in sheer bliss.
Seeing her reaction, Fiora and Sona couldn't wait any longer and tasted theirs too.
Sona looked at Luke and nodded rapidly, eyes bright and adorable—clearly giving it extremely high praise.
Even Fiora, who used to claim she wasn't interested in sweets, didn't dare say that anymore.
Ever since she'd started coming here to eat every day, dessert had become a daily inevitability.
And she'd realized something:
It wasn't that she didn't like desserts. It was that before she met Luke, Demacia's desserts had never been worth liking.
Seeing their satisfied expressions, Luke suddenly remembered something and stood, heading to the side room.
There was a separate table there—Yurna Doer's table. At first, it existed because a master and servant weren't meant to share the same table.
Later, Yurna had asked to eat alone, and Luke had simply respected her preference.
When he stepped in, he saw Yurna eating her pudding too.
The corner of her mouth held a faint smile, and she looked quietly, genuinely satisfied.
Noticing Luke, she froze.
Like she'd been so focused on eating that she hadn't expected him to show up at this moment.
For an instant, she looked a little blank—almost cute.
It was the first time Luke had ever seen that expression on his usually impassive maid. Even though she quickly smoothed her face again, he'd caught it.
Watching her dodge his gaze, Luke smiled and nodded. "Nothing. Just wanted to see if it suits your taste."
With that, he stepped back out.
He didn't see Yurna's cheeks slowly redden.
She stared at Luke's back, then lowered her eyes to her caramel pudding, thinking His Highness really did have a mischievous streak.
The more she thought about it, the redder her face became.
Luke returned to the main table in a good mood.
The three girls were too busy devouring pudding to spare him any attention.
Luke didn't mind at all. His mood was downright excellent.
Most of the time, his maid wore no expression at all—so he'd always been curious what she looked like when she did.
Now he'd seen it.
And honestly? Not bad at all.
If even Yurna could make that face, didn't that prove his cooking?
That gave Luke a tiny bit of pride.
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