The scorching sunlight warmed my cheeks.
Squinting against the glare, I opened my eyes to see rays slanting through the glass window.
Morning already?
Rubbing my eyes, I sat up from where I’d been slumped over, and a page of the book I’d been reading peeled off my cheek.
I was almost done with it, but I must’ve dozed off.
Yawning, I flipped to the last chapter.
[The most prominent symptom of mana poisoning is extreme irritability. There have been cases where healers lost their lives due to patients’ sudden aggressive outbursts.]
The image of Prince Claude drenched in blood from my past life flashed in my mind, followed by a vision of my own head being sliced off.
Swallowing hard, I scanned the next sentence.
[Thus, minimizing provocation is key. Methods include: First, maintaining a gentle tone and expression. Second, during hallucinations, physical contact or emotional exchanges like singing have been reported to help. Third…]
I focused, reading to the end of the page.
Closing the book, the title on the cover stood out: Attitude Toward Treating Mana Poisoning Patients.
It was a rare medical text from the Western Continent, found after scouring the underground library.
Though not a translation, my knowledge of runic script from my past life made it easy to read.
Stretching, I stood from the chair and went to the window to check the Lazeraan mana herb and other ingredients drying there.
They were so dry they’d crumble at a touch.
As I examined the herb, my reflection caught my eye in the window.
Tangled hair, hollow eyes from sleepless nights, and grimy clothes I hadn’t changed in days—I looked like a beggar.
It all started a week ago when I found Rachel and Alex’s hair in my bed.
I was tempted to dump manure on Rachel’s bed in a fit of rage, but for the sake of my plans, I had to hold back.
I left my room in my chemise and headed straight to the study.
Having the butler bring in a cot made it bearable, and not shuttling between my bedroom and the study let me focus on research day and night—a silver lining.
Thanks to that, I was fully prepared to make the cure.
Clenching my fists, I steeled myself.
Today was the day I promised to meet Prince Claude, and there could be no mistakes.
Fortunately, Pierre hadn’t come near since I’d mentioned toxic smoke in the study, and Rachel was busy being summoned to tea parties daily.
With no nuisances around, it was time to begin.
I took a deep breath and exhaled sharply.
Gathering the dried herbs, I placed them in a large pot and simmered them over low heat.
As the water reduced, I added more, continuing until the afternoon.
When the herbs fully dissolved, a thick, purple potion filled a long glass vial.
Wrapping the vial in a soft cloth, I tucked it into my bag and stood, only to feel a wave of dizziness.
Sleeping barely two hours at a time had left my body in shambles.
I popped a stamina pill into my mouth, chewing it down.
The bitter taste left a sharp sting in my throat.
I needed to hurry back before dark.
Draping a robe over my shoulders, I rushed out of the manor.
Under long lashes casting shadows, red eyes emerged.
As familiar pain surged, Claude’s face contorted.
His thick fingers clutched his tightening chest.
Gasping from the crushing pain, he crawled to the console, opened the first drawer, and fumbled with a vial, swallowing its contents.
Breathing heavily, as if pulled from water, he collapsed onto the sofa.
Seconds later, he slumped like a broken puppet.
A knock sounded, followed by the butler’s voice.
“Your Highness, Lady Aselin of the Rondinella ducal family requests an audience.”
“…Who… did you say?”
“Lady Aselin of the Rondinella family. She said Your Highness would know her.”
“Aselin… Aselin…”
Claude muttered, unsure if it was a question or to himself.
Aselin…
The name felt familiar, but his foggy mind couldn’t grasp it.
My memory… it’s not clear…
His drowsy eyes slipped back beneath heavy lids.
As the potent medicine spread through his body, his mind emptied.
“What should we do, Your Highness?”
The butler’s voice grated like thorns as Claude teetered on the edge of sleep.
His bloodshot eyes snapped open.
“How long will you pester me? I’m not meeting anyone, so send her away!”
His sharpened voice scattered through the room.
As sleep overtook him, his face tilted slowly to one side.
“Understood, Your Highness.”
With the butler’s words, Claude sank into a deep slumber.
The butler looked slightly surprised when I said I was here to see Prince Claude.
He asked me to wait and disappeared behind the door. Moments later, the heavy castle gate opened.
“His Highness says he doesn’t recall any promise and orders you to leave.”
“What? There must be a misunderstanding. He clearly told me to come to the castle in a week today.”
“I’m sorry, my lady, but His Highness insists he doesn’t remember and commands you to go.”
Despite my protests, the butler repeated himself like a broken record.
Hah. Is his memory that of a goldfish? It’s only been a week—how could he forget?
The butler’s expression suggested he was just as exasperated.
Sighing, I considered leaving but stopped.
The cure’s potency lasts two days at most, and it’s most effective when taken fresh.
If I leave now, I’d have to throw it out.
And where would I find more Lazeraan?
Clenching my fists, I glared at the tightly shut gate.
Drip, drip. Cold raindrops hit my face.
Boom! Thunder roared, and rain poured as if the sky had torn open.
I darted under a leafy tree for shelter, its thick foliage shielding me from the downpour.
Staring blankly at the storm clouds and cascading rain, frustration surged.
Damn that prince. Making a promise and pulling this stunt?
As I gazed at the rain, drowsiness crept in.
Exhaustion hit me all at once, and I nodded off repeatedly for hours.
Forcing my eyes open, I waited for the rain to stop, but the cursed downpour only intensified.
Popping a stamina pill into my mouth, I chewed and stared at the endless rain.
My eyelids felt weighed down by lead.
Whatever.
I collapsed onto the soft grass.
Lying down, the rain’s rhythm felt oddly soothing, and the scent of blooming orange dahlias filled my nose.
The cozy sensation lulled my eyes shut.
As my blinking slowed, my consciousness faded.
“Eek! What is that?!”
A maid cleaning the garden at dawn screamed.
Startled, the manor’s staff rushed outside.
“Good heavens! There’s… there’s a body under that tree!”
Aselin stirred at the maid’s cry.
Feeling the bright light, she tried to open her eyes when someone shouted.
“Could that body… be Lady Rondinella, who came yesterday?”
Body? Are they talking about me?
As Aselin tried to open her eyes, someone placed a hand under her nose.
“She’s alive, thankfully. But she’s unconscious, so we need to move her to a bedroom for rest.”
“But we can’t let anyone into the manor without His Highness’s permission.”
“What should we do?”
Murmurs spread around her.
Aselin almost stood but hesitated.
Wait, they’re taking me to a bedroom in the manor?
This could be my chance to see the prince before the cure loses its potency…
Inwardly cheering, she kept her eyes tightly shut and lay still.
As the staff fretted, Alvin, the prince’s aide, arrived at the castle.
“What’s all this commotion?”
“Greetings, Sir Alvin. Lady Rondinella, who visited yesterday, is lying here unconscious. The physician says she needs rest.”
“Lady Rondinella? Why aren’t you moving her to a bedroom?”
“Well… His Highness ordered her to be sent away yesterday…”
“He didn’t even meet her and just sent her off?”
“Yes, sir.”
Alvin rubbed his chin, pondering, then spoke.
“Take the lady to a guest bedroom. I’ll speak with His Highness.”
Minutes later, Alvin entered the manor, and servants carried Aselin on a stretcher to the guest wing.
A thick blanket was draped over her as she lay in bed.
Just you wait, you wretched prince.
Hidden beneath the blanket, her lips curled into a sly smirk.
