Rules of Biomancy: A LitRPG Healer Fantasy

Vera had to be honest with herself. Despite repeated attempts, she couldn't learn to drink the dry red wines. Harper had nagged her about it for years now, highlighting its importance during the more prestigious dinners. Dry reds were a staple of high-end wineries, a sign of great wealth, and yet they just had to taste so awful.

"Going from a sweeter summer wine does not help you," Harper added, as Vera snuggled up to her on the sofa. "Please don't spill anything on the cushions."

"As if I'd ever be so clumsy," Vera countered. She laughed when Harper just rolled her eyes and tried going back to reading the most recent report. Despite her attempt to hide it, Vera easily spotted that smile. "Are you going to be done double-checking everything soon? It was your suggestion to take it easy for an afternoon, and I'm not doing this alone."

"Just another minute, Vera. I'm cross-referencing the hidden phrases."

Vera snuggled up a little closer as Harper said her name out loud. Even now, months after Harper had started to do it, Vera couldn't help but love hearing her say it every time. Years of forced distance had finally ended, and they had been steadily approaching the same closeness they had when they were young and stupid.

So incredibly stupid.

Not wanting memories to ruin the mood that had started brewing, Vera took another sip of the god-awful wine before putting it down and enjoying the view. She hadn't spent too long out on the balcony of her room, since she inherited it from her father. A lack of free time and the opportunity for other activities inside the room were likely to blame.

Regardless, she understood why her father had spent so long out here. The view of the afternoon sun, with the mild clouds damping the light, and the softest of pillows on an outdoor sofa allowed her body to finally loosen a little. She'd felt old since the war had started, every moment giving her a new problem to worry about, but… letting go, for just an hour or two, allowed her to feel young.

Brother nearly dying, a city on the brink of considering regicide, and an approaching death toll that'll halve the country's population.

Maybe that wine wasn't so bad after all.

"That was the final check-in," Harper reported, putting the stack of papers onto the table and wrapping an arm around Vera. It felt nice. "Are you relaxed?"

"Very," Vera assured her love, as her hand began to travel. "Though… there is one thing that—"

"Later."

"I can wait."

One of the agreements. Clear communication, complete adherence to her words, and the understanding that some steps took longer than others. Vera didn't mind, just happy to have anything at all, but an edge of guilt did sometimes creep into her head. The possibility.

Arms offered comfort, and she accepted it, allowing Vera a look at the necklace on Harper. She hadn't worn it too often these days, describing it as 'too flashy.' Vera didn't understand it. Despite Harper's denial, there were very few things that didn't look good on her.

In fact, Vera had been considering adding another gift to the pile.

Just have to work up the courage.

She'd carried the white ring in her pocket since she became the queen. It was the final gift from her mother, an artifact of incredible power, and it was beautiful. Vera dreamed of passing it on to somebody who would match perfectly with it, but she knew Harper wasn't ready for that yet.

Maybe.

Asking somebody whether they would say yes to such a question wasn't the easiest thing in the world. For the ordinary, friends could be recruited for espionage, but she knew Harper. That beautiful beast of a woman would see through any attempt before it'd even started.

And honestly? Vera doubted that Harper didn't already know what she carried. Her assistant might've just been too polite to comment on the ring.

Just give me a signal, please.

"Should I question your unending stares?" Harper asked, not breaking eye contact. Vera studied those blue-and-grey pupils in detail, as if she hadn't already caught every detail before. "Do I have something on my face?"

"It's more the lack of something," Vera answered. Not the smoothest reply, but it almost brought a chuckle out of Harper. To Vera, that was the greatest success of all. "You know… I have an idea—"

The creaking of a door ruined the moment. Vera retreated, returning to her glass of wine as she saw Oscar, one of Elijah's assistants, arrive with a box in hand.

"Your Majesty," Oscar greeted, head poking out onto the balcony. Vera smiled politely in kind, not letting her true thoughts be revealed. "I've brought the new week's supply of antidotes, poisons, and… other concoctions, as requested."

For a person who treated people of all kinds without any lack of professional attitude, the young man could be surprisingly squeamish about some subjects. Maybe it was having more than one person present?

"Thank you, Oscar," Vera told the man. "Please leave them on the table inside, next to the chessboard. I'll sort them myself."

"Of course, Ma'am."

The two quietly sipped their wine, as Oscar did as requested. Taking more care not to scratch the table than Vera had done her entire life, the box was put in place. Following a curt farewell, Vera and Harper were left alone once again.

"While I do implore you to learn to drink the dry reds, I need to agree with you on this one," Harper commented, showing off a rare face of distaste. "I'm removing it from the list of potential choices for future dinners."

Vera broke into laughter, nearly spilling her drink if not for Harper's quick hand.

"Gods, I want to marry you," Vera blurted out between breaths. Only a second did she freeze, realising she hadn't meant to say that out loud. "Is there any chance you were cursed with momentary deafness ten seconds ago?"

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

Harper did not, in fact, become deaf for five seconds.

"I'm not too fond of blatant jewelry, but I could make a… one-time exception for your majesty," Harper said, sounding careful in how she spoke. She seemed unsure, a sign that worried Vera. "But, I don't feel that now would be a good time. The lips of the staff are too loose, and the people are currently too angry for news like this."

Vera couldn't be seen acting like she was on top of the world.

That made sense.

"So, if the people weren't ready to cut my head off, would you say yes?" Vera asked, before she lost her courage.

"... Yes, I suppose," Harper replied, as blunt as ever. "It's not a difficult choice. I would have sent appraisers out to look for a ring myself, if not for the political implications of an assistant—"

Talking had to momentarily cease.

When it became possible to do so an unknown number of minutes later, neither person needed more clarification on that topic.

"Now that more sensitive subjects that aren't immediate problems are being brought up, there is one other issue I need to mention," Harper added, as she put her necklace back on. "With the amount of pressure from all sides and threats to both your and Louis' life, the question of future heirs needs to be considered."

Vera chuckled as she found a cheaper white wine that they both actually enjoyed.

"Is this your way of asking whether I want children?" she asked, getting a blunt confirmation in reply. "Well, I certainly wouldn't mind. We might need to have a longer conversation about how that will work, and it will probably have to wait for less stressful times, but I wouldn't mind a couple of kids running around."

"'A couple?'" Harper repeated, accepting the wine glass from Vera. Even now, as they sat alone, she still held it properly by the stem. "How many would you define that as?"

"Two or more, I suppose," Vera said, though she could see by the slight crinkle in Harper's face that it wasn't enough. "Two is my current thought. If we play our cards right, though, we might be able to arrange something for Louis as well."

"You are still trying to act as a matchmaker for the prince?"

"'Trying?' I've been preparing a whole list of potentials since the day I got put on the throne."

Harper didn't voice her opinion regarding that, and neither did she need to. Vera could tell. The reasoning for it was 'security,' after all. A piece of assurance that the family line would carry on, if one of the countless attempts on Vera's life actually succeeded. It wasn't for show that she'd been developing an immunity to the entire list of poisons used by Castilla at any point in time. There was a credible threat to her life, and she wasn't about to let Serenova fall to ruin because she failed to predict her death.

"It's just a precaution for extreme scenarios. Nothing we haven't done before," Vera said, but the appeasement didn't seem to help. "I don't plan on needing it. It is a fun role, though."

Any day now, she'd figure out how to pair Louis with Sasha. A prince, with one of the most powerful human mages of the generation as a mother, and a fighter who had enough innate power to casually stop normally lethal blows of just about all kinds? If Vera got those two short-fused balls together, she'd feel confident about the country's future.

Somewhat.

A moment of peace came after, as Vera got to enjoy the wine. She managed two entire sips before the moment was ruined once again by another intrusion.

Although the intruders didn't announce their arrival with the creaking of a door, but by the blaring of magical alarms. The wards that Alin had set up months ago to stop unauthorized teleportation into Kulvik had been shattered, and the results were coming to attack.

… Not the worst time to die, I suppose.

Examining the rapidly forming crack mid-air above the coffee table, Vera enjoyed the potentially last second of her time with Harper.

Then two bodies dropped down, shattering the expensive table and wine glasses, and the more positive outcome oozed into their minds. Two recognizable faces, one openly weeping and the other turning light blue.

"Lura Fadan," Vera stated, eyeing the crying elf. The diplomat from Ethon was missing her right hand and was losing a considerable amount of blood every second, but the scene couldn't help but confound her. "What is—"

"Save him!" Lura ordered, tears in her eyes as she shook the unmoving body. With another moment to think, Vera recognized the man as the Eidomancer who had transported Castilla's diplomat previously. "Please. I'll do anything."

Harper had already started to move, running for the door and shouting for Oscar to return to the royal chambers. Vera followed suit, rushing inside and grabbing all the new emergency concoctions that she'd ordered.

She barely read the labels, going by nothing more than color. Something for the excessive bleeding, an antidote for the common poison known to cause choking, and an aid that kept a person functioning during severe blood loss.

"No! Help him," Lura said, as Vera tried to apply the paste to stop her bleeding. The elf had no sense of self-preservation.

Vera grew more confused with every passing second, to say the least.

"Fine," she accepted, applying the antidote to the throat. Normal application required gloves, but there wasn't time for that. And not that it mattered, as the antidote's supposedly instant effects didn't manifest. "He's not poisoned."

"No, Ester did something to him," Lura added, grabbing at the man's upper body with her remaining hand. "There was a click, and he suddenly couldn't breathe."

The lines.

Runes on the skin. Her suppressed magical senses hinted at more further inside, though it was hard to discern. Everything looked inert, yet the man was still unable to breathe. Feeling around with her fingers, the swelling starting on the side and the crackling feeling as she ran her fingers up and down, Vera realised the problem.

"His windpipe is crushed," Vera declared out loud, the same instant she heard the sound of rapid footsteps. A very red Oscar had arrived alongside Harper. "Can you help him?"

"Maybe," Oscar said, promising nothing while rifling through his satchel. "Do you have any thicker straws lying around? The ones the late king used for cocktails, I mean."

"Yes," Harper answered confidently, leaving to search the room for them while Vera watched the man who'd looked squeamish not so long ago adjust the Eidomancer's head. The man was made to look upwards, extending his neck completely. Oscar proceeded to search around the Adam's apple, going a bit below it before bringing in a scalpel.

Vera watched while working on Lura's bleeding arm. The elf didn't seem to notice her own pain as the scalpel entered about two centimeters inside the man's throat. With the blade stable, Oscar proceeded to a sideways stab. It was gruesome as the scalpel was then rotated, widening the wound, and it was even worse when Harper arrived with the requested straws.

"Thyroid cartilage, cricoid… don't rupture, please," Oscar muttered to himself, as one hand held open the cut while the other carefully inserted the straw.

The hissing of air and the wet squelch that followed made Vera unsure she could remember this day fondly anymore.

"Oh, thank you," Lura cried, escaping Vera's grasp as she inspected the Eidomancer's face. Color had started to return, and the eyes had shot open, but Oscar held the man down. "I'm so sorry."

"Careful there, champ," Oscar soothed, as he kept the man's body stable. "I'm not very good at my job, and any big movements mean we're going to have problems that are bigger than I can solve."

Starting at the scene, with the elven diplomat whispering comforting words to the Eidomancer, who was still at a risk of dying at the slightest throat movement, Vera felt out of her depth. Maybe this was the world's way to signal that she wouldn't get any quiet for a very long time.

Elijah, you need to get your ass back here quickly.

That old man had to help fix this mess if Vera was to have any chance of using it to her advantage.