webnovel

The Healing Crown

"I just wanted a normal life, is that too much to ask?" Mattheus bemoaned once it was just the two of them again. "Hah. Face the reality, Mattheus. You can resurrect a dead person with your skill Miracle Invoker and your best friend is a cat." Brunilda deadpanned. "You were never going to have a normal life." Theodoric He has found himself waking up in this world as Mattheus Crown. From a world with an overworked System, he finds life is in Hard Mode with possibly multiple people wanting Mattheus Crown dead. In a world with two moons, where magic and the occult have perfectly intertwined with scientific breakthroughs within the country of New Albion, ancient otherworldly beings stir within the shadows. The eldritch existences that always lingered around the fragile cracks of the material plane have come a-knocking. Shared Server: https://discord.gg/WpxD7AA

PenOugi · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
174 Chs

The Importance of the Reforms

"Doctor Crown, I'm sorry for the trouble when it is your birthday."

Ophelia Marcel had changed a lot since they first met. Or, he supposed, he was finally shown who the Countess Marcel was when she wasn't antagonistic toward the other person.

The relatively young widow was a surprisingly sweet woman that nonetheless possessed a spine of steel. Apparently, she had thought he had bewitched her friend, the Duchess, considering Sophily had always loved the occult and Mattheus Crown was infamous as a prodigy when it came to both the study and use of mystical energy.

Of course, Ophelia then remarked about how she now knew that Mattheus came by the position from his own merit and that it was the older brother that Sophily was involved with, before apologizing to him.

He had only been able to laugh awkwardly around the fake affair making its rounds. Sophily was being secretive enough she wasn't even telling her childhood playmate that was in her faction. What could he do but comply and keep up the ruse?

"I should be the one apologizing for changing the day of our usual appointment for the convenience of my personal life, Lady Ophelia," Mattheus returned.

"Nonetheless, regardless of which one of us is more apologetic, I wanted to present you a gift for your twentieth birthday since I cannot make it for the party this evening," Ophelia, dressed in soft pastels, looked extra delicate as she smiled at him while the butler came with a dark leather portfolio tied with a silver ribbon fairly close to the shade of his eyes (also one of the colors for the Crown family).

He accepted it before opening it at the countess's prompting, blinking a bit when he read the top page inside.

She got him a car from one of the companies she owned. It would be a custom model fitted with the latest engine that complied with the standards the reforms were trying to establish.

"With how inconvenient it is for you to come to Cambell twice a week to treat me by train, I thought an automobile would be fitting for a present. With springs added to the design, the drive is a lot smoother and more comfortable too!"

After a moment, Mattheus closed the folder and smiled at the countess. "Thank you for the present, my lady. It would be very useful for my work as Court Healer."

With that out of the way, they started the healing session.

Unfortunately, they have both gotten used to these twice-weekly appointments to the point it was routine.

Until the origin of the curse could be found though, this was the only stopgap there was to keep Countess Marcel from further deteriorating in health. The water he infused with his healing magic seemed to help her keep her appetite but it was taking too long to put on any weight.

Theoretically, he could do more drastic treatments but everything he could think of was very inappropriate for a noblewoman to go through. It also was too risky to try to fully heal her to a healthy state when the source of the curse was still a mystery.

Restoration would be a huge stress to the body even if it would become healthy again. Adding a shock to the patient through the curse? It might cause an abrupt stroke or seizure.

As always, he left the appointment with Ophelia Marcel in a troubled mood.

When he almost left Marinell House, he was surprised at someone calling him at the front hall.

"Lord Harloch," Mattheus said as he spotted Baldroy Harloch walking up to him. "I did not expect to see you at Marinell House."

The baron that was a member of the Treasurer's Office just gave a crooked smile. "I suppose you weren't aware then. The Marcel family has sponsored me since I was a child—it is how I came to be in this position within the government. The Marcel family is known to sponsor and support talented individuals and the Lady has continued the practice."

"Ah. I see."

"You just finished up with treating the countess, I assume?"

"Yes," Mattheus replied.

Baldroy's expression turned a bit more somber. "Has nothing changed?"

"Mm. Unfortunately," was Mattheus's vague affirmation.

"I see," Baron Harloch frowned. Then he shook his head and smiled at Mattheus. "Apologies. I won't keep you any longer since I know you're probably on a tight schedule. I'll be attending the ball tonight both as myself and representative of my Lady."

"I will see you tonight, then."

Mattheus turned to leave through the front doors, finally grimacing when there wouldn't be anyone of the Marcel household to witness it.

Right. The party.

Unsurprisingly, the stand-alone townhouse and its grounds looked immaculate and already decorated with silk flowers with fulminis shards that will glow more obvious shades of red and orange once the sun set. There were also fairy lights and other decorations that would make the gardens look right out of a fairytale.

The ball would be a masked one, in the spirit and traditions of Samhain, and the theme was the classic "otherworldly welcome."

It was convenient for Honoria Crown, he supposed, that her youngest was born on All Hollow's Eve. With the Queen pregnant and the Duchess too busy with the diplomats, who else could step up but the queen of the social scene that was his mother?

No one bothered fighting her for the day after it became apparent the royal family was surprisingly taking the Winter Feast instead of the Samhain Masquerade that usually occurred every year. As the Queen was pregnant and it seemed to be a delicate pregnancy considering her age though, most thought the decision was reasonable.

Samhain was the marking of the time of year when the harvest season officially ended and winter began. The boundaries between the Otherworld thinned and ghosts and spirits would walk amongst the living tonight—not something lucky for a precarious pregnancy.

It was very much the same as the older beliefs in his old world, only he was less sure if the Otherworld was actually a thing here. Magic basically was, after all.

Mattheus was ushered away to change after a light lunch and some last-minute direction from his mother over his responsibilities later on tonight.

It took him a bit to figure out the outfit—more of a costume in his opinion—before he walked out to check himself in the mirror.

"Isn't this a bit too much…" He felt very overdressed in the black riding boots and tailcoat. At least there weren't any ruffles but the elaborate embroidery made him wary it was actual silver and gold thread used.

"Everyone else will be dressed similarly," Brunilda reassured him. "Put the mask on to complete the outfit."

He walked to the box where the black molded mask sat, the gold and silver detail matching his coat. Placing it on, he turned around and had to sigh.

The fact Brunilda chose the black mask became apparent. Everyone would realize he was a Crown despite the mask covering more than half his face, due to how the black contrasted so starkly against his pale eyes.

The silver eyes of a Crown and the black hair of a Tellus. He figured the only way people would tell to two brothers apart tonight was the fact Edgar had a much more chiseled jawline and curlier hair.

"This is dumb," Mattheus sighed.

"Last minute nerves, huh." The cat sounded knowing. "Don't worry, you look like a fey prince that can spirit away all the pretty girls with one of your usual smiles."

"Ugh." Mattheus ruffled his hair and decided to leave it slightly messy when it made the mask look more natural. So that was what Brunilda had been going for when picking out this outfit.

"Come on, birthday boy, let's go and have a last-minute dress rehearsal if you're so nervous about speaking up."

"I'm not nervous about the public speaking," Mattheus argued. "I just like observing rather than being in the limelight, and I'm going to get more focus than usual. I know some are coming just to talk to the elusive Court Healer."

Mattheus heaved a sigh before getting over his self-pitying moment.

"Ah well. Since it's more a combined celebration and my birthday is an excuse for Mother to throw the Samhain Masquerade with the royal family too paranoid to do so with the Queen pregnant, I guess I can just pop up for a bit and then switch masks to blend in." At the realization he could do this, the twenty-year-old was much happier.

Brunilda, of course, decided to burst his bubble. "Did you forget about me? The fact you'd have a cat hanging off you would be a dead giveaway you're Mattheus Crown."

In the end, since he didn't have to appear until later in the evening, Mattheus was able to lurk in the shadows and observe for a bit as the guests started to arrive.

Once it started becoming a bit more full of nobles and the affluent for him to stay unnoticed, he made a getaway to the gardens, which weren't open yet for the guests.

He soon regretted it because he was not dressed for the temperature.

"Holy shit, I thought England rarely gets snow? This feels pretty cold for autumn!"

"We're not actually in England, remember?" Brunilda was amused. No doubt she was feeling fine considering she came with a thick fur coat. At least, there were no complaints about the cold from her—she even jumped off and decided to walk beside him.

Mattheus was aware. The weather in this world seemed to have its own rules, heavily influenced by the presence of mystical energies.

The winter in New Albion tended to be intense, barring certain regions. Starvation had been a real issue before airships were invented in some towns and areas that would have bad harvests.

"Hey, Brue?"

"Hm?"

"Would the airships really stay grounded if the reforms don't get enough votes? I mean, I would prefer they go through but it's a lot of people that would starve. Father wouldn't let people die to prove a point, right?"

"I checked the system while I was staying with the Duchess, Mattheus. Doesn't matter what Albert IV would want, it would all be behind legal red tape. The King would be unable to do anything until after people start dying, considering it might label him a tyrant otherwise. Some of the nobles would think their power would be in question if King Mordred can just go over their heads after an unwelcome outcome."

Mattheus furrowed his brow.

"The people for the reforms would need to immediately submit a re-vote. And that would just waste more time. If they don't, the reform would be benched for at least 18 months. Like I said, a bunch of jumping through hoops, tied down by bureaucracy."