“Your Highness, are you awake?”
Alvin knocked and called out loudly, but there was no response from within.
As time dragged on, cold sweat beaded on his forehead.
If His Highness finds out I let the lady into the manor without permission… Fear gripped him.
But the Rondinella family had long been a prestigious house of apothecaries, trusted by His Majesty.
Though their influence waned after the late Duchess’s passing, they were still the empire’s only ducal family. Treating their lady poorly—let alone if something happened to her here—would surely incur the Emperor’s wrath, not to mention the nobles’ gossip.
Alvin shook his head, his face stiff, and gripped the doorknob.
“Your Highness, it’s Alvin. I’m coming in.”
Cautiously opening the door, he saw Prince Claude slouched diagonally on the sofa.
His serene, sleeping face made Alvin’s heart pound, rooting him to the spot.
Hesitating, Alvin gently parted the curtains.
Sunlight streamed through the window, spilling onto Claude’s face.
Frowning slightly, Claude slowly lifted his eyelids.
Alvin, standing at a safe distance, spoke carefully.
“Your Highness, it’s Alvin. I apologize for the intrusion, but I have urgent matters to report and came in to wait.”
After a long silence, Claude’s dry lips parted.
“What’s all this fuss about so early in the morning?”
His irritable tone made Alvin tense as he took a deep breath.
“Your Highness, Lady Rondinella was found collapsed outside the castle gate this morning.”
“Lady Rondinella?”
“Yes, Lady Aselin Rondinella, whom you ordered to be sent away yesterday.”
Claude’s thick eyebrows narrowed sharply.
Aselin Rondinella…
As he murmured the name, the memory of a woman he’d met while patrolling the forest with his wolves flashed in his mind.
And then—
[“You have one week. Make the cure and come find me.”]
His own words echoed in his head.
He pressed his throbbing forehead.
“If she collapsed at the gate, is she dead?”
“No, Your Highness. The physician said she needs rest, so we… brought her to the guest wing.”
Alvin closed his eyes as if confessing a sin.
Claude, leaning back in his chair, remained silent before shutting his eyes irritably.
Beyond his eyelids, a mud-caked face with large, sky-blue eyes flickered.
Is she foolish?
If I told her to leave, she should’ve gone. What was she doing lingering at the gate?
She’d been a nuisance from their first encounter.
Claude ran a hand over his face, his eyebrow twitching sharply, causing more sweat to trickle down Alvin’s forehead.
Trying not to provoke him, Alvin carefully broached the subject.
“Your Highness, if anything happens to the lady, the nobles will talk, and His Majesty won’t overlook it. Perhaps we should let her rest for now and send her away once she regains consciousness?”
Claude tilted his sharp jaw upward.
Alvin froze, awaiting his response.
After a pause, Claude exhaled deeply and spoke.
“Do it. But—”
His flat, emotionless voice continued.
“—once she’s awake, bring her to me immediately.”
The fireplace warmed the room intensely.
After pretending to be unconscious for a while, I lifted my eyelids.
Turning my head, I saw a maid adding logs to the fire.
A patient’s room is supposed to be warm, after all.
I pushed back the thick blanket, sat up, and spoke to the maid.
“Um… where am I?”
Feigning weakness as if I’d just woken from a faint, the maid quickly set down her poker and approached.
“Lady, you’re awake?”
I stared at the young maid with her hair in twin braids.
She smiled brightly and continued.
“This is the guest wing of the castle. I’m Anna, your assigned maid. You were found collapsed outside the gate this morning, so we brought you here.”
“…Oh, I must’ve fainted. Could I possibly see His Highness? I’d like to thank him.”
“Oh, right! He instructed us to inform him as soon as we woke. One moment, please.”
Anna scurried out, and soon a man in a uniform entered.
Tall with brown hair, he spoke politely.
“I’m Alvin Crex, aide to His Highness Claude. Are you feeling alright, my lady?”
“Yes, I’m fine. If I may, could I see His Highness now? I’d like to thank him and have something important to discuss.”
“As it happens, His Highness ordered me to bring you to him. Please, follow me.”
I quickly slung my bag over my shoulder and followed Alvin.
We passed through a wide corridor, and when he knocked on Claude’s door—
“Come in.”
A low, chilling voice answered.
I stepped inside as Alvin guided me.
Light streamed through a slightly parted curtain, glinting off the tip of Claude’s nose.
He sat deeply in his chair, tilting his head.
Disheveled black hair, dark shadows under his eyes, pale skin, a sharp nose, and tightly pressed lips.
And those blood-red eyes, fixed on me.
A chill ran down my spine, as if icicles were forming.
[First, maintain a gentle tone and expression.]
Recalling the morning’s reading, I forced my lips into the brightest smile possible.
As I grinned ear to ear, Claude, staring at me, furrowed his brow sharply.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Pardon?”
“Why are you suddenly smiling?”
His eyes narrowed as he questioned me.
Flustered, my eyes widened.
I’m smiling because I’m terrified you might kill me… But I couldn’t say that.
His intense gaze felt like it could pierce my face.
As his expression grew more irritated—
“Well… I’m just happy to see Your Highness again.”
I fidgeted with my fingers and blurted out—
“Because I’m glad.”
His perfectly sculpted eyebrows twitched roughly.
Without breaking eye contact, he parted his tightly closed lips.
“You brought the cure, I presume?”
“Yes, I made it with the Lazeraan mana herb.”
I opened my bag and pulled out the potion.
But, oh no—the once-vibrant purple had faded significantly.
The weaker color meant weaker efficacy.
I should explain first.
Holding the vial, I spoke.
“Your Highness, I need to explain. This potion is a day old, so its effects may be diminished. If you take it now, the next—”
“You made it, but aren’t confident in its effects. Is that what you’re saying?”
Claude cut me off, frowning.
“No, the effects are certain. It’s not as potent as a fresh batch, but for a first dose, it should work well. If Your Highness keeps your promise, I can ensure you get freshly made doses next time.”
Smiling softly, I explained, but Claude’s face darkened further.
Clutching the sofa as if to break it, he spoke through gritted teeth.
“Does the world always go as planned? Anticipating and preparing for variables is a skill. Your worth seems proven. Now leave.”
“Your Highness, if I’ve offended you, I apologize. I did my best to make this potion and kept my promise. You mentioned variables, but trust and commitment between patient and healer are essential. One-sided effort won’t cure the illness. If you give me one more chance, I’ll do whatever it takes to deliver a fresh dose.”
I maintained my smile, calmly persuading him.
But—
“I won’t repeat myself. Get out now.”
His needle-like gaze stabbed into me.
Breaking a promise unilaterally and talking about variables?
Fine, forget it. Don’t regret this later, you wretched prince.
Cursing inwardly, I bowed and turned to leave when—
Thud. Something fell.
Turning back, I saw Claude collapsed on the carpet, clutching his chest in pain.
Rushing to support him, he shoved me away roughly.
“Didn’t I tell you to leave?”
His bloodshot eyes glared at me.
Staggering, he opened the console drawer.
As he reached for a red potion, I grabbed his arm.
“Wait! Is that made from Cytherien mana herb?”
His blood-red eyes pierced me.
In the tense silence, I noticed several empty vials in the drawer.
They looked barely a day old.
That’s enough for a week, and he drank it all today?
I held onto Claude, pleading urgently.
“Overusing Cytherien like this could stop your heart. If you’re in pain, take my potion instead.”
I quickly uncapped the pale purple potion and offered it.
But Claude, grimacing, shoved my arm away forcefully.
His face grew paler, drenched in cold sweat.
Stubborn fool. Does he really want to die?
Desperate, I reached for the bell to call for help, but Claude, gasping raggedly, collapsed onto me.
