After a few days of traveling, Esther brought me back to the kingdom. My body still aches from using that katana. The ore in that blade was refined in some strange way, making it something that doesn’t kill nearby demons, but holding it is still oddly exhausting.

"We’re here, Evelyn," Esther says, landing on the castle floor as her blood-made wings dissolve. She’s still carrying me, while I hide my most intimate parts with threads so no one can see, in some kind of clumsy dress.

"Yeah..." She keeps carrying me into the castle. During the entire trip back, she said nothing, and I said nothing, because the situation was awful. I know that if I had told her I lost my memories, she might have believed me and not punished me so terribly — but I deserved the punishment.

"..." Esther ends up heading to the castle’s private infirmary, a place exclusive to the Demon King or Queen. She opens the door and then takes me to the only bed in the room.

"E-Esther, I’m already... fine."

"I know. You’ve already recovered from the wounds I made, but I still need to do a medical check-up to see if there’s anything wrong with you and... with this baby," she says, looking at my belly with poorly disguised disgust.

’Got me pregnant to control me and to fix the mistake that started this...’ If she hadn’t killed our first child, I wouldn’t have forbidden her from seeing me and seeking information, and then I wouldn’t have ended up on that island with Nerina. She’s obviously just trying to keep me under control with this child.

"Am I... really pregnant?" I ask with an uncomfortable groan on the bed. Even though the wounds have closed, my body hurts — the physical trauma of being hurt constantly for hours.

It was worse than when I was tortured in prison. Esther was so cruel to me. Being devoured alive is more painful and uncomfortable than I imagined, since normally I only gave her my tail.

"Obviously... haah... of course you are," she says as if she wished with all her might that I weren’t, when she was the one who did this to me by force. Not that it’s a problem for her — we’re not in the modern world. In this world, a wife who doesn’t rule the family is a possession and has no right to refuse sexual advances.

"..." Before I can say anything else, a woman enters through the door. She’s wearing a white coat similar to a scientist’s, with white gloves, a black top, and a black skirt.

She’s a beautiful girl with pale, silvery-gray skin. She has very dark red eyes and vertical pupils like a wild beast. Her long black hair cascades down to the floor at an almost exaggerated length.

She has strange red tattoos that start at her wrists and go to the ends of her arms. A tall woman with generous breasts and an almost seductive air, standing at about two meters based on the height of the door.

"Hello, Queen. I believe you don’t know me yet. I am Saluvia Panacea. My race is Mara, and I am the Royal Physician. I am currently 19,522 years old and have served many demon kings and queens across various generations, so I believe I have the ability to care for whatever is needed regarding medicine."

"Although, it has been rare for Demon Kings or Queens to require medical assistance," she says everything in a very direct manner, making it clear who she is. But I really didn’t know this character, and she never appeared in the game.

"I-I’m Evelyn..."

"I know, Queen. I was informed beforehand by magic from Esther that you required medical assistance... Esther, I ask that you withdraw."

"What?" Esther scowls at Saluvia, who maintains her neutral expression.

"A patient has no need for the cause of their injuries as a spectator. I can smell your scent covering her, and I can tell that many of her wounds were made by your teeth. Even if those wounds have vanished, magic does not lie. So I ask that you withdraw — after all, stress hinders recovery," Saluvia says as if she doesn’t have the slightest fear of Esther.

I’m shocked. It’s the first time I’ve seen anyone other than my father treat Esther as if she weren’t relevant to the moment and context. Even Esther seems disconcerted by it.

"Tsk... do a—"

"I know very well what I must do. No further instructions are necessary," Saluvia interrupts Esther without any fear whatsoever. Esther bites her lips but decides not to argue, so she leaves the room.

"W-Why did you speak... to her like that?" I ask, adjusting myself a little on the bed. My head still hurts from the memories I recently recovered.

"Because I serve specifically the demon kings and queens of each era since I was born, and my loyalty is only to the current ruler — in this case, you. And a doctor who is afraid to give orders and speak the truth is not a good doctor."

"Besides, some demon kings have attacked me when they received news they didn’t like. Two girls so young and naive are not something that would scare someone with my experience," she sits down on a chair, picking up a clipboard and pen.

"Now let’s get to what really matters. Where does it still hurt? Also, even though I see you have no wounds, your flesh still bears the trauma and magical marks of each injury."

"...M-My head hurts a little, and some parts... like some organs, the l-left side of my belly, and my thighs... m-my arms also ache a little," I say, somewhat disconcerted and embarrassed.

"You seem... mentally better than I expected, considering how many magical wound marks are on you."

"...?"

"...I have an excellent ability to perceive wounds, even those that have already healed. I can see many severe lacerations, and despite the perfect recovery, the magic still has flaws..." she explains upon seeing my confusion.

"I’m fine besides the pain—"

"I see some signs of intense sexual trauma on the body. Moreover, the bite marks are deep. Some indicate the loss of entire organs. They are also highly concentrated, even on vital organs and the heart," she gets everything right, making me uncomfortable.

"J-Just give me some pain medicine..."

"No. I need to resolve the problems. After all, what kind of doctor would shirk her duty to those she serves? However, despite that, the baby seems healthy."

’E-Even that?’ Her gaze is bizarre, to say the least, to have noticed all those things and even my pregnancy.

"Look, I’m really fine. I can recover from wounds without problems. At most, do a check-up on the baby and we can wrap this up..."

"...Queen, my powers are largely based on using various fluids from your body as medicine, or ingredients for medicine, thanks to your magic, which has immense healing effects."

"Everything about me is focused precisely on medicine. But I will not obey orders that do not address what truly matters here. You would not be the first ruler to deny my support. I ask that you cooperate, or perhaps I will have to be more... persuasive."

"Y-You’re threatening me?" I say, alarmed.

"Threatening? No. I would never threaten you. I am warning you. I will drug you and make your muscles so lethargic that you will be unable to move if you refuse treatment. That is how I deal with rebellious patients who flee from their treatments."

"The moment you stepped into this infirmary, your health became my responsibility. So I regret that you don’t like the situation, but I ask that you cooperate."

"Tsk... o-okay..." When I simply accept it, she gives a nod and goes back to writing things on the clipboard in her hands.

"..." She spends some time writing while the uncomfortable silence stretches on. I just grow calmer that Esther didn’t have time to ask where I got that katana.

"I think I’m done. Esther seems to have done her homework — she researched me well before bringing me here, so she informed me of the heart of the situation..."

"And?" I look at the window with a somewhat empty gaze.

"It’s not your fault."

"Huh?" I look at her, confused.

"I understand that you may see what you did as betrayal. But I am always watching. Ever since you became Queen, I have researched your personal relationships. And Esther... is the perfect portrait of a true demon."

"She is intense, destructive, and she is slowly breaking you. I am not saying you were right to sleep with someone other than your wife. But it is also not fair to say that you sleeping with another girl is entirely your fault."

"I am a psychologist as well, so I will help with your mental health if necessary. What I can say about this is that you are fragile. You were born into the wrong race. Intellectually, you are an exemplary demon, but from a psychological standpoint, your mind is the most fragile I have ever seen."

"You would have fared better being born an angel."

"..." I start to cry, biting my lips while she observes me.

"I don’t like angels, but I am realistic and far too old to let hatred cloud my work ethic. You would be a truly adorable angel. If you had been born an angel, you would have had a better life and could have fortified your psyche with a gentler doctrine."

"And that is exactly why I am telling you, as an outside observer: you sleeping with another girl is something that is Esther’s fault. Even if you bear some blame, that blame was shaped by the environment in which you exist." She pauses briefly and murmurs something before speaking again.

"You present some degree of depression. And before you ask, depression is not just deep sadness and a desire to kill yourself. There are many different levels. And incredibly, I can tell you — it is common. Far more common than you imagine."

"Among demons, this rate is quite high as well. If you gave an entire race of animals the intellect to understand their own lives, that race would largely develop a form of existential crisis."

"Do you know why? Because thinking too much hurts. And thinking about your own existence and reflecting on what hurts you is something that sticks to the mind and becomes a snowball that never stops rolling downhill."

"I... I’m not... sure about that..." Hearing a "psychologist" say I have depression is confusing, strange, and disconcerting.

"You don’t need to be sure, and you don’t need to believe me if you don’t want to. You are handling this well on your own. But narcissism, in the end, is as much a personal problem as it is a form of defense. So your narcissism, Evelyn — is it something you were born with? Or is it something you created to protect yourself?" She stands up and comes to me, handing me a handkerchief.

"I made this brief psychological diagnosis to help you. Depressed people of your type constantly place and redirect pain onto other things. So I am saving your child before it is born and you come to hate it."

"You, and especially this baby, are not at fault. So if you are going to blame someone, blame your wife, who did not bring you to me to help you, even though your wife knew you were not well."

"For now, lie down, cry a little, and wait. I will analyze what I have to decide what medicine I can make... also, I will order that sleeping medicine in your room confiscated. That is not healthy for you. I will prescribe something lighter to help." I take her handkerchief and squeeze it, biting my lips until they bleed as I can’t hold back the tears.

It’s the first time someone has said my suffering isn’t my fault. It’s the first time someone has validated that emotion and shown me that me suffering isn’t because I did something wrong and bear all the blame.

"W-Why are you... being so kind to me?" I ask through tears. I’ve never seen a demon with so much empathy. Normally, all demons are so cold, proud, and culturally brutish.

"Kind?..." She gives a cynical smile.

"Of course. Consider this kindness and empathy... but when you die, Evelyn, I will make a point of keeping your corpse in a glass jar. I am not kind. I am professional. I am doing my job in exchange for being paid. When a demon king dies, I take their corpse — no matter the distance, the place, or the state. It can even be just dust. I will still find it and keep it for myself."

"So don’t think too much about my apparent ’kindness.’ Just think, ’She is my doctor, and she will do everything for me to get better,’ because that is the image that will benefit us both the most." Her gaze makes me tremble with some fear as I curl up in the bed, going back to crying — only now more quietly, as if crying too loudly would make her do something bad to me.