“Éloide, where are you off to now?”
“Mother, you’re here?” She turned reluctantly, and her hurried steps came to an abrupt stop. Her lips curved awkwardly as she scratched her cheek with one fingertip.
“You know your daughter is very busy, Mother, right?”
“Busy spending money? Tch!” Isabella de Bellmont, her mother, replied sharply.
“Of course. Isn’t that exhausting? Oh, right. I bought you a dress too, Mother. I’ll show you. Just give me a second and I’ll—”
“No.” She caught the back of her daughter’s dress. “Don’t even think about avoiding me.”
Éloide glanced at Isabella with an annoyed look. Yet not a single word of protest left her mouth.
Because it was true: she loved shopping so much that she nearly went crazy whenever she couldn’t do it. She didn’t have even a little money left in her bank account.
“This is worse than I imagined. When are you going to grow up? Are you going to spend your youth squandering money?” Her scolding voice rose sharply once again.
She shook her head in disbelief as her eyes surveyed Éloide’s purchases.
Boxes of jewelry. Several mannequins displaying beautiful, expensive long dresses—limited-edition pieces, of course—had just been carefully moved by the servants into Éloide’s already nearly full dressing room.
Éloide squeezed her interlocked pinkies in front of her and lightly bit her lip.
“You said I was free to use that money,” Éloide replied carefully, her lips beginning to curve into a bright smile.
“It’s not what you think, Mom. This can be called saving, too. I can sell the jewelry again when I retire.”
Isabella, the Duchess, massaged her forehead as a throbbing pain struck her head. At the same time, Éloide wrapped her arms tightly around her and looked up at her face.
“I don’t mind if I never get married.”
“What did you say?” Isabella snapped at her daughter, her pale face growing even paler as she stared into Éloide’s sparkling eyes.
“Why? I just want to spend my time in the library and my research lab. My medicines are more important than marriage, so I—”
“That’s enough, Éloide!” The middle-aged woman cut off Éloide’s hopeful, excited voice with a low one of her own.
“I’ve already told you never to say things like that just anywhere. Do you understand how dangerous it would be if someone else let that slip?” she added, growing increasingly serious. The tension was plain on her face.
Éloide automatically glanced around them. Only a few guards and her personal servants were nearby, and they had worked for her family for a very long time. Could they betray her?
“Don’t go anywhere.” She sighed and released Éloide’s arms from around her. She stroked her hair, then gently touched her cheek. “Today is Grand Duke Ravenne’s homecoming celebration after his war victory.”
“Again?” Éloide responded quickly, raising one eyebrow.
Isabella gave a small nod. “Yes. He always wins. That’s why the streets in the capital are so crowded. The palace knights are patrolling. They’ve grown suspicious of someone’s transactions in the slums.”
Biting her lower lip, Éloide secretly clenched one hand around her dress.
“I understand, Mom. I’ll be even more careful when buying those plants.”
“This isn’t it... Not this one, either.”
Her fingers traced each sheet of paper as she moved from one page to the next.
The sound of pages turning now and then, along with the crackle of the fireplace, could be heard beneath the tall bookshelves.
Éloide had been sitting alone at the long table for nearly two hours. The Bellmont family library was utterly silent.
Several old books lay open before her, while others were stacked so high they nearly covered her face.
“It’s not in this book about medicinal plants, either. There should be a record of an ancient treatment here, shouldn’t there? How could it have disappeared?” Éloide grumbled, propping up her chin with a pout.
Her hand picked up an old book with yellowed edges. She refused to give up.
“What am I supposed to do?” She bit the tip of her finger. “I really need that medicine. If I’m even a little late, things could get serious. Damn it.” She snapped the book shut in frustration.
The image of a frail old man lying in bed flashed before her eyes. She ground her teeth, irritation rumbling in her chest.
If not for Grand Duke Ravenne’s victory celebration, she could have slipped away, visited the old library in the city center, and picked up her order of narcotic plants.
While Éloide was out in disguise, wearing a mysterious cloak, and receiving narcotic plants from someone, a poor villager approached her, gasping for breath, then collapsed at her feet.
He hugged Éloide’s leg and cried. “Apothecary... I finally found you. Help me, please help my father. He’s seriously ill. I don’t have any money left to take him to the hospital.”
“Take me to your place. Hurry!”
“Yes, yes, Apothecary.”
Éloide was a mysterious apothecary in a large cloak that covered her head and face. She continued healing poor people with the abilities Isabella had passed down to her.
She also provided treatment to aristocrats—noble families. The narcotics used in her treatments were highly refined, making them difficult to identify. Éloide made a great deal of money from them.
However, narcotics were illegal drugs strictly forbidden in the kingdom of Valérienne. The punishment for anyone caught using or dealing them was execution by beheading in the central city square, while their entire family was imprisoned.
This was what Isabella feared. Not even the King’s trust in her and her husband—who had healed and supported the royal family—would be enough to save Éloide from a gruesome death.
“I have to go to the modern world. There must be some there.” She raised the ring on her finger and brought it before her eyes.
“But Father already warned me. What if I get stuck there and can’t come back?”