The Exiled Saint is Living Happily in the Beastman Country: A Comfortable Life as a Hostage with Homemade Medicine and Delicious Meals!? - 1: Cold Treatment
“If I were her, I’d lose my mind.”
“I get where the head maid is coming from, but still, that’s just too much…”
“Shh. If the head maid hears us, it’ll be bad.”
“But that bread was really over the top…”
“And that soup from the other day… I almost cried while carrying it.”
“I added extra drinks, but I couldn’t eat such salty soup.”
“Yet she finishes it all…”
“Probably because there’s nothing else to eat. Plus, who knows what kind of harassment would come next if she left any…”
Voices of the maids talking could be heard from outside the room.
When I first came here, they would glare at me as if I were their sworn enemy, but now they look at me with pity every time they see me.
I’m the poor girl isolated in this room, while the head maid giving the harassment orders is seen as cruel and heartless.
I swallow the words “I think I’m being treated well” that rise up to my throat.
Even muttering to myself, the maids outside the door would hear me. Beastmen have excellent hearing, far better than humans in all their senses.
What they consider overly salty soup is just a bit rich to me, and the terrible bread they speak of is merely a few days old.
In this country, bread means freshly baked. Anything from the next day is barely acceptable, and a few days old bread is bird food. Bread should never be hard and stale.
This I learned by eavesdropping during meals. As expected of the gourmet kingdom of Bistonia, their awareness of food is high.
The head maid’s thorough harassment isn’t limited to meals; no personal maid and the room being cleaned only every few days are other examples.
I also learned from the maids that the dresses and jewelry provided in my room are minimal, which makes sense since I’m not loved by my husband.
They want to make me feel neglected, but from my perspective, the food is delicious, and I can handle my own preparations. Since I don’t participate in social events, dresses and jewelry would just go to waste.
If the nobility and royalty bought them to keep the economy moving, I’d accept them. But there’s no need to force purchases.
My sister would probably make a huge fuss, but if there’s something I want, I can buy it with my own money.
Thanks to the comfortable distance provided by the so-called neglect and the alchemical items given by my fellow saints as parting gifts, I can even sneak out of the castle and earn a little money.
“Excuse me~ Could you please take away the dishes?”
Lost in thought, I finished my meal today as well.
The sherbet that was deliberately left to melt was delicious. It was more like juice that had been frozen and then thawed. Without attendants, I sipped it down. The maids behind the door probably thought me unrefined, but at this point, it didn’t matter.
“Excuse me.”
After the dishes were taken away and the maids left, I checked to ensure they were gone. Putting my ear to the door, I listened for their footsteps to fade.
I opened the window to let the air circulate.
Then I retrieved a pouch from a locked trunk. It looked like something a commoner child might carry on an errand, made from repurposed old clothes.
But this was no ordinary pouch. It was a magic bag given to me by my saintess friends as a parting gift. It could hold as much as three large carts from a major trading company. They prioritized capacity over the ability to stop time inside.
Even so, time moves slower within it, so items that could last six months outside would last an additional two months inside. It was packed with alchemical tools and all the materials I could gather.
I knew I wouldn’t be welcomed here even before I married. I even considered the risk of being poisoned. I didn’t trust the doctors of this country. In case of emergency, I planned to make an antidote using what I learned from the Alchemical Saintess.
But they wouldn’t go so far as to poison me. Their hearts would ache just serving lukewarm soup or bread left out for two days. Making medicine quickly became a means for me to earn pocket money.
I took a thick cloth from the magic bag and spread it on the floor near the window. This was originally meant to wrap around me in case of an assassin. Extra layers of clothing could help prevent a knife wound from being fatal.
But this purpose also changed quickly. Now, it was to keep the expensive carpet clean. I set it near the window to let the scent of the medicine escape. The smell must be strong for those with keen senses.