"My body feels somehow lighter. Is it because those impurities were purged? So, I guess that pain wasn't for nothing."
Glancing down, he saw his bare chest. There was no blood left on his skin, despite how much he vividly remembered losing so much of it.
The window was closed now. He clearly remembered leaving it open before beginning the attempt. Morning sunlight also slipped through the curtains, revealing the tray that was supposed to be last night's dinner, still resting on the desk.
"…Don't tell me, is it already another day?"
He tried to sit up, only to stop halfway, feeling a strange weight against his back, warm and soft. Iria was still there, arms wrapped loosely around him, fast asleep.
She looked like the definition of a sleeping beauty.
As his movement disturbed her, she stirred and rubbed her eyes before lifting her head. When their gazes met, the tension in her face melted instantly into relief.
"My lord…"
But she quickly pulled away, standing up at once, then picked up the tray of potato stew she had prepared the night before. After a brief glance, she turned away, deciding it was no longer safe to eat after sitting out so long.
"Please wait, my lord," Iria said, regaining her composure. "I'll prepare breakfast immediately."
"Take your time."
Iria left the room, closing the door.
The moment she was gone, Seven clenched his chest with such clear displeasure. Perhaps it was discomfort, irritation, and frustration. No, nevermind. It was all those combined together.
"Who did this?" he muttered. "Who's insane enough to place a curse on the youngest of Hart? Damn it. Whoever did this really wanted me crippled."
The answers were already forming in his mind, few and ugly: his older siblings. In families like this, one less competitor meant one clearer path to succession.
"Those bastards… So that's how they chose to play."
He had every right to be frustrated.
Of course not because he pitied Seven Hart, but because this was his body now, and it came with no outstanding talent. If not for that curse, maybe this body would've been known as a gifted youngest son.
If that happened, then he could have walked an easy road toward greatness.
Instead, whoever placed that curse had sabotaged his transmigrated life.
Still, what had happened had already happened, and no amount of brooding would change that fact.
With that thought, he turned toward the adjoining bathroom to take a bath, only to pause when his eyes caught a calendar pinned to the side of the closet.
There were seven months in a year, each consisting of fifty-two days, something he already knew from the novel.
But on the calendar before him, every single day of the first six months had been circled, along with the first day of Nocten, the final month.
The second day, however, remained untouched, and that told him everything he needed to know.
"Today's the 2nd day of Nocten, eh…? The year is, let's see… 1634?"
Time. He still had a year before the main story begins, and that should be enough time for him to restore his condition.
Scribble.
He picked up the quill from his desk (this world had yet to invent pens) and circled the 2nd day himself.
Only then did he proceed to bathe, taking his time as warm water washed over him, letting the lingering discomfort in his body fade.
He was still drying himself when he heard the door open, followed by Iria's familiar voice that breakfast had arrived. After setting everything down, Iria left the room without another word.
Wrapping a towel around his waist, he stepped out.
Step, step.
On the tray were scrambled eggs mixed with mushrooms and parsley, a slice of whole-grain bread (a trencher) topped with thinly sliced apples, and a cup of herbal tea set neatly to the side.
He began eating immediately.
Munch, munch!
"…Mm. This tastes great, as expected."
He took a sip of the herbal tea right after.
"…Blergh. Taste's nasty!"
Slowly, he walked over to the window and poured the remaining tea outside
"It should at least be able to water the plants."
But then he realized one thing was not adding up.
According to the description he wrote, the character should be filthy rich!
Given that Seven Hart was the youngest of a renowned family, he should also be filthy rich! He should not be living on food that looked like it belonged to a modest villager's table.
The breakfast was undeniably plain.
It also tasted great, likely because he had only eaten lots and lots of instant ramen for an entire year back on Earth, or perhaps because Iria had cooked it herself.
He wanted meat. Lots of meat!
"Meat builds muscle. Yes. This is also just my preparation and not indulgence. Yes, yes. This is definitely not a craving."
Having convinced himself, he stretched himself lazily and picked up the empty tray before heading for the door.
Creak!
Just as he opened it, Iria was about to enter.
"My lord, please don't trouble yourself with cleaning up. That is my responsibility, and I cannot—"
"Don't mind it. Lead the way."
"But—"
"Iria."
Iria flinched and lowered her head slightly.
"As you say, my lord."
They headed toward the kitchen together. Truth is, it was just an excuse that he had prepared. He just wanted to see the food stocks for himself.
Sure enough, there was no meat.
None at all!
Be it dried meat, salted meat, or meat hanging from hooks or hidden in storage.
Iria noticed him checking every corner and shelf but didn't interrupt, waiting quietly until he spoke.
"Iria, don't we have any meat here at all?"
"I'm afraid not, my lord," Iria replied calmly. "That is all we have in storage."
"Is it a matter of budget?"
"Ah. That is not the case at all," Iria answered quickly. "We have more than enough funds. In fact, enough to buy the entire village below if needed. However… it was your request not to purchase meat, as you claimed it did not suit your preferences."
Seven froze in place.
'Damn you, Seven Hart. Just what are you, a vegan? Who the hell dislikes meat even in a fantasy world?!'
He had cursed internally, probably screaming in his mind, but outwardly, he only cleared his throat.
"Go buy some. A lot of it. Enough to fill the entire cart."
"...Pardon?" Iria blinked.
He was already walking out.
Outside, two knights stood guard near the gate, straightening when they saw him.
"Bring one knight to accompany you. He can help push the cart and keep you safe. I have something else I need to do, so I won't be joining you this time."