The week that followed is a whirlwind of activity. The best laid plans of men and mice, indeed. I'm pleased as punch that at least Grenwille didn't present any more surprises. Marisa is proceeding exactly as planned, and as a side bonus, she is clearly recovering from anemia. People of the city (who of course know that milord's sister was sadly beset with consumption) are astonished to see her walking around with nary a cough. On the third day of our presence there, marquis Sadoux asks for us to join him in the parlor - where we are met with a delegation. An assortment of clerics from the temple, who all introduce themselves as priests of Marra as their primary goddess, and a couple of physicians from the city who specialize less in magical healing and more in concocting potions and bloodletting. They humbly request to be permitted to view the treatment and profess the readiness to swear oaths they will adhere to the licensing once Lemand publishes the treatise.

They are notably chagrined when Lemand (whom, on my insistence, took charge of talks and conducted them with suitable aplomb, much to my approval) notifies them that the actual treatment is comprised of three stages and they would end up observing the third stage if they ventured to see what he does for Marisa. Then they are perked right up when Lemand proffers to demonstrate full course IF they source additional patients. We spend a little more time making sure the delegation understands they are to inform the patients that the treatment is still experimental and that they must give informed consent to participate. They are further surprised when Lemand notifies them they must source air-specializing mages for the first and second stages. Thankfully for them, Grenwille is heavy into agriculture, and thus has plenty of priests whose primacy is to Manoc. Marquis, from his side, contributes the use of a pavilion on his premises for the demonstrations and enough of protective capes for everyone involved - which creates a minor ruckus on its own, because apparently no one else figured that one out. I have to hand it to Sadoux - when he was told he is the only one who thought about using a fabric cloak to protect the servants, his first reaction was regret that he didn't think to inform the temple as soon as he thought of it.

It goes without saying that the expanded delegation (all of whom actually GAVE written oaths to keep the process to themselves and to sign up for license once we make it official) is both disturbed and elated by what they see. The jars of sputum made several people toss their cookies, the demonstration of mycobacteria in the microscope had most of them turn greenish and swear up a storm (including some of the patients, among which we count one of the wealthiest merchants in the area, who takes a look in the microscope and swears on the spot to donate the land for the creation of lazareth specifically for consumption treatment in Grenwille proper), and the deep extraction stage has ALL of them tut thoughtfully and marvel at the chair. Speaking of which, since we have such an influx of test cases, we have collectively agreed not to bother moving Marisa's chair, and instead constructed four new ones, which will be donated to the lazareth along with enchanted screens to see the infection spread.

Elaine proves her worth as a witness by sending a detailed report to the newspaper each day. As she put it to me, "just earning my part in this". Apparently, as DeeDee confers to me later, being the woman to report this boosts Elaine's own social status by a fucking lot, nevermind the rocket-like ascension of Lemand from obscurity to household name. At this rate, it is but a matter of days before his newfound fame reaches Balthazar in a manner even his oakheaded daddums would be incapable of dismissing. Wonder what would be his reaction. Surely Balthazar is not stupid enough to denounce consumption cure as "unfit of a true man". Right?

___

In Parsee, things are even more hectic. Bridgit has to bamf Moon Unit over pretty much every day as we push all the limits to quickly nab a suitable building (a house behind the Merchant Square that was on sale), refurbish it and hire enough of sufficiently bright commoners to put together copy machines. I personally teleport a whole load of metal from the Grand Forge to serve as prefabs and bust my brains figuring out a rudimentary production line that is simplified enough for the commoners to operate without putting them through part of the Academy course on enchanting first. Ironically, it's Moon Unit's own invention that comes in use here, as we figure out a way to refurbish the machine from etching the paper to etching the tin plates with the requisite enchantments. The end product is notably bulkier than the handcrafted machines Moon Unit made for the library, but Merchant Guild can afford the space for them.

Lily-Anne buys a good-sized pavilion on the Craftsman Square, nearly on the corner where all four of them meet. She's a bit mulish lately, but we talk it out before she does anything rash. Turns out, she's upset she's not taking a more active part in all the shenanigans I'm part of, and wants more involvement. My argument that a lot of it would be boring for her is met with rather simple assertion that as a princess, she already had to learn a lot of boring stuff, and that she prefers to understand what her family is up to. My bad. We end up agreeing that she will be brought on my business deals more, to observe if not participate, and shake on it. Much to my surprise, Margot is pretty on the ball when it comes to clothes, and not just wearing them. She's still very leery of me, but Lily-Anne somehow manages to establish a good rapport in just two hours. Turns out that Margot is actually quite savvy on the making part of clothes, and Lily-Anne promptly puts her in charge of a small throng of seamstresses and embroiderers. Still not handling any money herself, though, her requisitions come to Lily-Anne for approval before anything is spent or committed to.

The less said about madame Konistan, the better. I bring her to the brothel, explain the situation to madame Cocoshon, we sign a written contract that aforementioned madame Konistan is permitted to choose the manner of her labor, but not the fact of it, stipulate the term as ten years and add a provision that madame Konistan is permitted to voluntarily extend my punishment by five year terms once the initial ten run out, if she prefers to remain at the brothel instead of being remanded to sir Malachi's discretion. She is understandably terrified stiff of me, but seems to be percolating in a state of befuddled incredulousness, harshly underscored by madame Cocoshon remarking yet again on how outstandingly merciful my end terms are. They confer in whispers a bit, and madame Konistan is taken into the brothel proper by one of the girls. Courtesan, while at it, because the dress and perfume she has on are clearly far too much for a menial laborer. Welp, I guess I was right after all. Madame Konistan does prefer to spread her legs instead of working with her hands. Not my problem anymore. Nonetheless, I give madame Cocoshon a purse of gold as payment for trouble. She receives it with good graces and promises that things will be taken care of to the utmost satisfaction.

In comparison, licensing of Roxy's portals is extremely simple. We present her compiled book on the proper enchantments and effects, have it verified by Inquisition as "contains no restricted magic" and set up licensing deal, the first copy of which is promptly sent off to dad and dwarves so that they can handle things on their end. I was prepared to bring Roxy to Grand Forge at first, but her meticulousness at compiling information is simply outstanding, as amply evidenced by the fact that the knight of Inquisition doing the verification was able to create a test portal and put an ingot of copper through it without any problems. So we just send a copy of the book with a provision that me and Roxy will make a personal visit if something proves to be problematic. Copperphone call to Rory proves to be extremely entertaining, as apparently he was in the middle of meeting with other dwarves and upon learning that the book will be in their possession within the week, they break out in an impromptu dance, if the thumping and hollering coming from the phone is of any indication. Dwarves, so excitable.

Before I know it, the airship is back in the air on course to Parsee. Marisa is declared completely clean of consumption on the afternoon of the sixth day and marquis promptly throws a celebration across the whole of Grenwille. We're only able to escape from it around three in the morning, departing from the still celebrating crowd among much ado and adulation. The additional group is not entirely clear, but all of them had progressed into the third stage nicely and none of them shown any allergy to the antibiotical mix, so that's good. Just in case, though, me and Lemand had sneaked in the requirements to verify the safety with a skin test and efficiency on sputum smear before the mix is permitted for the patient, plus a couple of divergent antibiotic recipes based off the available herbs and mushrooms. Alchemy is pure bullshit, if you can just nibble the ingredient and determine what you need to keep and what needs to go. Afterward, it's just a matter of properly enchanting the mixing retort to produce the batches as prescribed. Grenwille will continue with treatments, both existent and taking new patients on case to case basis while the donated lazareth is being constructed. Marquis had graciously consented to continue letting the use of his pavilion as a treatment center until then. He and Marisa both have the copperphones to keep contact with Lemand, and one more is issued to the temple to report on the progress of treatments.

Onboard the airship, Lemand is in quiet happy shock.

"I still can not believe my mother is healthy again." - he tells me - "I had hopes, of course, but... with so many people before claiming they could cure anything and everything... I guess my expectations were more in line with easing the suffering a bit. Not eradicating the disease in its entirety. And I owe it all to you and your insights."

"Hey, you worked hard on this. You're still working hard on this." - I object - "Lemand, get used to it. This is how we're going to work from now on. I'll be giving you the initial insight, and it will be your job to work it up to completeness. So far, you're doing a bang-up job. Keep up at it, and don't forget to send a copy of your treatise to sir Pasteur as soon as you're finished with it. The resounding success in Grenwille is the confirmation, but the approval of the royal physician will be the culmination of it. Once sir Pasteur gives his opinion on the treatment, which will definitely be full of praise because you did a superb job, all of Champagne will know you and love you. Why, you just might get called to the castle for his highness to personally approbate your work."

He simply nods at me, in a daze. I guess he needs a bit of time to work through it.

___

The arrival, when all is said and done, is pretty low-key. We disembark at the Academy and I put the airship back to the berth at the mansion. Where it will stay until the end of terms, because I'm so done with it all. Seriously, I'm tired. And twitchy. And angry. It's a sure sign I need to step back and chill if I'm starting to make decisions that are liable to poke me right in the issues later. Not to mention me forgetting things. Not in the sense of sclerosis, mind, more like getting caught up in something and forgetting what I planned. Like that situation with the party. I was planning on showing off my TV prototype, and then flatly forgot I was when Selene reminded me of all the things I've yet to handle. Well, no more. Copier-making workshop is up and running, Lily-Anne's shop is well on track and requires no further input from me, Roxolane is properly licensed and getting kickbacks (Inquisition snapped up a second license for portals, dunno what for, but if they think they have a use for it, no skin off my nose.) and I've personally pampered Bridgit to mewling contentment for her efforts in making sure Moon Unit was ferried to and from Grenwille each day. Time to...

Time to receive a call from Kraina, apparently.

Roxy is staring at the ringing copperphone with wide eyes. Then she snatches it up and starts talking. The volume is more than enough for all of us to hear the entire conversation, apparently Ivan thinks you need to shout in the copperphone to make sure you're heard across a couple countries.

- Roxolane, daughter!?

- ...yes, dad...

- AAAAAAA!

- Dad, what's happening?

- ...No, no, all is fine. Just... We... Oh, Roxolane, we did not even believe that... I... we...

- Dad, stop worrying, all is fine. I am alive and healthy, studying at Parsee Academy. I even have my own license now.

- That`s our Roxolane! License for what? Are you studying to be jeweller? Or herbalist? Or maybe even merchant?

- Not that license, dad. Tithe license for magic portals that I invented. Alyssa helped me to sort it out with Merchant Guild, I have my own income now. I am now, see... An ar-ti-ficer! Dwarves in Great Forge got the first license, Champagne Inquisition got second.

- Wait, wait. You mean Inqusition pays you tithe?

- Ayep. And not small one. A couple golds each month, at least.

- Freaking A, that's some news! No, no, don't distract me. I am proud of you, daughter, but tell me something else before that. This Alyssa, that's lady Gillespie, right?

- ...yes...

- So what is that Ivan saying about some marriage? With four wives?

- ...Wasn't marriage yet, dad. We want to, but decided to wait a bit. I didn't even know if any of you are still alive until I saw Ivan with my own eyes...

- ...Is that so... Well. To tell you honestly, running away from one harem just to join another - that's very peculiar. But... do as your heart tells you, daughter. Lady Gillespie, it seems, is noble above nobles in Parsee... But. Tell me honestly - are you happy with her? Are you happy in this harem?

- Yes, dad. If I weren't, Alyssa would've hired me a caravan to Kraina. She's different, not like this oijan bastard. First thing she told me - you're my wife only if you want to be.

- So I see. Well, well. And how do you cope with her temper? Ivan told me she`s quick to smack down.

- Ahahaha, oh dear, dad. Oh dear. Smacks are for those who don't listen. Though to tell you honestly - if angered, you won't find smackdown lacking. In harem, Alyssa is entirely different. None of us was ever beaten. If she is dissatisfied with something, she will sit down with you, tell you what bothers her, why, how to make everyone happy. Listen to what you have to say about it. Honestly speaking, men should take example from her.

- Huh...

- As she tells me, dad... Happy waifus is happy laifu.

- Wise words! I'm going to tell that to my pals so they don't complain so much about their wives anymore. So... Does she make all four of you happy every evening?

- DAD! ...she does...

- Damn it, really!?

- Daaaaad! Stop teasing me...

- HAHA! Fine, fine. I am glad to hear from you, daughter. I am even more glad to hear you are alright. Tell me, when can you visit us? I understand that traveling to Kraina is long, but...

- Ooh, you haven't heard yet. We will visit this winter, dad, all together. Alyssa has an airship now.

- Has WHAT? What do you mean, air ship? Ship with sails or what?

- No. Air, as in flying. Faster then birds. I already flew on it a little. From Parsee to Haver and back to Parsee in one day.

- FLYING?! Manoc's will...

- Dad, want me to pass the phone to Alyssa?

- Pass what... Wait, wait a moment..!

Roxolane smirks and hands the copperphone to me. Huh. Very well.

- Good day, pan Taras. I am Alyssa Gillespie. Very glad to hear from Roxolane's parents. Please convey my salutations to pani Alena, pan Vasil, pan Ivan and panych Mykola and Petro. If nothing unexpected happens, await us in three weeks.

- Aaae... Very pleasant to hear from you, lady Gillespie. Let me thank you for your presents to our family and your priceless help to Roxolane and Ivan.

- No problem, pan Taras. Family helps family.

- Yes that!

I decide to have mercy on him and hand the receiver back to softly giggling Roxolane. I'm guessing her dad is not used to talk to someone so high up. From what Roxolane told me, he is nominally boyar, but their domain is essentially a village and surrounding fields. Minor barony, at best. If her descriptions of family life are to go by, I'm guessing that her family is not that much better off on living than wealthy villagers themselves. Not too shabby, but definitely not the high-rolling noble caliber. Good grief, they're going to fall over once they find I have a literal princess in the harem.