Not long after leaving, Arnault returned with the court physician. Despite Arnault's concerned expression, the physician did not seem to share his sympathy. Aron was sitting upright in bed, struggling to speak because of his dry throat. It was apparent that this body had lost most of its excess fluids during the flu. Many people did not believe that he would survive the night.
After examining Aron, the Physician was surprised to find out that the young man had recuperated from the flu, despite the fact that there had been very little expectation of his survival. Although he was a medieval physician with hardly any practical medical expertise, a person called Alan displayed a certain level of competence when he made this statement.
"Thou needst not fret, Lord Arnault, for thy brother's fever hath subsided, and save for an unquenchable thirst, he is in fine fettle."
Subsequent to his declaration, Alan proffered a vessel of water to Aron and permitted the juvenile gentleman to imbibe to his heart's content until his desire for Water had been satiated. Once the vessel had been drained and his lips cleared with a sweep of his sleeve, Aron acknowledged the medical practitioner's aid with a nod of gratitude.
"Thy gratitude is appreciated, my dear friend Alan; thou hast proven thyself a faithful and dependable ally in my hour of direst need."
Though inwardly insincere, Aron knew from the lessons of two lifetimes that it would be unwise to give voice to his disdain. And so, he behaved with the utmost civility, as befitting one who is heir to the Baron.
Upon receiving the splendid tidings that his sibling was finally in good health after a prolonged duration of infirmity, Arnault's countenance lit up with an ecstatic grin. Aron had always been inclined to maladies, burdened by a feeble constitution and delicate frame since his birth. These ailments were only exacerbated by the sedentary way of life that was typical of a medieval noble.
His elder sibling's subsequent utterance gave him a start, for it was a query that lay beyond the realm of his anticipations.
"Dearest Brother, would it trouble thee to summon the servants and bid them prepare the bath? I have a sense that purging the dirt from my person would be beneficial to my well-being."
Aron's request for a bath was met with disdain from the physician who snorted in response. While baths were not unheard of among nobles, they were not as commonplace as they are in the modern world. Despite the physician's disapproval, Aron persisted in his request to his brother.
Aron was pleased with his brother's response as Arnault smiled and agreed to fulfill his request immediately. "Certainly, my dear brother. I will go and give them instructions right away," Arnault replied.
After saying that, Arnault left Aron's large stone room to fulfill his request, while the physician realized that he was no longer required and left.
"I will go and notify your father, the Baron, that you have recovered," said the physician before leaving the room.
Aron expressed his agreement with a single nod while appearing indifferent.
"Thou art tasked with that responsibility."
After Aron's response, Alan departed from Aron's room, leaving him alone. Aron let out a deep sigh and looked down at his clothes, smelling the odor of sweat and dirt emanating from them. He made a face in disgust, then let out another sigh.
"When I get the Barony in my name , things are gonna change around here, big time..."
Aron had decided that his top priority upon becoming the Baron would be to implement regulations regarding sanitation throughout the Barony. He even contemplated constructing public bathhouses, similar to the ones used by the Romans, in order to ensure the people had access to basic hygiene. Aron was determined to do whatever it took to improve the cleanliness of his turf.
Upon rising from his bed and taking a few stretches, Aron heard a gentle tapping at the door, indicating the presence of one of the household's servants.
"My Lord, the bath is prepared for your use."
He opened the door with an eager smile on his face, which surprised the servant who was standing outside.
Aron replied, motioning for the servant to lead him to the bath.
The servant regained her composure and led Aron to the bathroom. Once they arrived, Aron quickly locked the doors and proceeded to undress.
With a feeling of discontent, Aron surveyed his feeble physique, which was not quite emaciated, but his bones were fragile, and his muscles were underdeveloped. He knew that he needed to alter his eating habits to include more protein and calcium. Prior to implementing the changes he had in mind for the future, he must concentrate on strengthening his body and maintaining his health.
Aron decided that washing away the sweat and filth that had accumulated on his body during his flu was a necessary first step. He cautiously dipped his toe into the wooden bathtub to test the temperature before fully immersing himself in the water.
But Aron was disappointed to find that there was no soap in the bathroom. He came to the realization that soap was not yet common in Europe, and it would have been very rare for someone in his position as a baron's heir to have access to it.
Because of this the refreshing sensation of the warm water didn't appease him, Aron couldn't help but feel frustrated by the lack of soap. He knew that soap wasn't common in medieval Europe and that it was unlikely for a baron's heir to have access to it. However, he couldn't help but think about how much cleaner he would feel with the help of soap, as it would rid him of the dirt, grime, and germs that had accumulated on his body.
Upon settling into the tub, Aron gazed at his reflection in the water, taking note of his short, curly brown hair and bright emerald eyes, which closely resembled those of his brother Arnault. He possessed handsome, regal features, with milky white skin that enhanced his regal air. Although his current physique was thin and weak, he did not feel overly concerned as his appearance was already quite princely. Aron believed that while the body could be strengthened and refined, one's looks were more or less immutable.
Aron examined his short brown hair and his body in a convex bronze disk that acted as a mirror, After he had finished examining his hair, Aron came to the realization that, even after bathing, his body was still smelling. While he was no expert smells, he knew that simply using water was not enough to fragrant his body. It was clear that he needed to create fragrant soap like Jjangsaum to improve hygiene in his Barony. This would not only benefit him but also his future Plans.
"The Baron and Baroness are expecting you for breakfast in the dining hall, milord," a servant informed him.
Aron replied, motioning for the servant to lead him to the diner.
"Very well," the servant replied with a bow, acknowledging his request.
Upon arriving at the Dining Hall, Aron was pleased to see his family patiently waiting for him. He took his seat and looked at the various food options laid out on the table. Although his family belonged to a lower noble house, they were still wealthy enough to enjoy a variety of dishes every day.
Aron wasted no time in serving himself a hearty meal, selecting steamed trout, baked goose, several types of cheese, and bread, along with a generous glass of what appeared to be apple juice. He didn't bother to acknowledge his family at the table, too focused on filling his plate and satisfying his hunger.
Aron didn't notice the expressions on his family's faces until he lifted his gaze from his plate. He had already cut a piece of baked trout and was about to eat it when he noticed their concerned looks. Feeling uncomfortable, he asked them what was wrong.
"What's the matter, Father?" Aron asked.
Marcus, Aron's father and the Baron of Fargo, was a tall and handsome man with short brown hair, a matching beard, and striking emerald green eyes. He looked at his son in surprise, as until now Aron had been a picky eater, often choosing to eat only vegetarian foods. Yet, now half of his plate was filled with fish and poultry. When Aron asked why he was surprised, Marcus gestured towards his son's plate, indicating the significant change in his eating habits.
Aron looked puzzled, as he had not fully adapted to the memories of the body he had transmigrated into.
"May I inquire if I am permitted to consume this?"
Aron's Mary, a woman with brunette hair and a curvy figure, also appeared puzzled as she gazed at her son with her shimmering green eyes.
"Why are you eating meat?"
Aron realized the reason for his family's surprise, as he recalled that he was known to be a picky eater in his previous life. He understood why this body he had transmigrated into was weak and in poor shape due to its lack of proper nutrition.
Aron gave his mother a gentle smile and nodded in confirmation.
Aron grinned at his mother and confirmed, "I have made a decision to change my lifestyle. From now on, I will include meat in my diet and engage in regular physical activity. I cannot continue living as a feeble and frail vegetarian anymore."
"Well then, tuck in !"
Marcus grinned widely as he listened to his son's declaration, feeling pleased that Aron was finally taking his health seriously. He picked up his fork and added a generous piece of beef to Aron's plate.
Aron grinned and dug into the sumptuous meal in front of him, savoring every bite. However, he realized that the kitchen staff lacked some basic knowledge of hygiene, which he would have to address later. Nevertheless, for the time being, he decided to relish the delectable food without any grievances.
Bartolomeo, Aron's older half-brother who resembled like the rest of his family in physical appearance, on the other hand was exerting noticeable hint of hostility in his bright green eyes when he looked at Aron. Although Aron was unsure of what he had done to provoke his brother's anger, he took note of the unfriendly gaze and resolved to be wary of him in the future.
Aron hastily left the dining room, eager to start his exercise routine. He was determined to transform his weak and frail body into that of a strong and fit soldier within a year or less if he worked hard enough. This was a goal he wanted to achieve as soon as possible.
While Aron was jogging along the castle walls, he had no idea that Bartolomeo was watching him with a sinister expression from one of the tower spires. Bartolomeo bit his lip and muttered quietly to himself, showing his displeasure towards Aron.
Bartolomeo muttered "How the hell are you even still breathing?" under his breath as he watched Aron run along the castle walls, his gaze filled with malice and anger.