My occupation is a pharmacist.
People generally think that being a pharmacist means simply opening the pharmacy, smiling brightly, and handing out the medicines requested by healers or patients, considering it an easy and simple job.
There are quite a few customers who complain about the high cost of medicine, accusing us of ripping them off despite not doing much work.
It’s an unfair accusation. The amount of work I do is immense! Setting aside the murderous workload, continuous study is required to prescribe the right medicine for each illness.
Is that all? From a patient’s perspective, they think of medicine as a single entity, but there are over a thousand types of medicinal herbs stored in the pharmacy. Each requires different handling and storage methods. Furthermore, the effectiveness varies greatly depending on how the medicine is prepared and combined with other ingredients, so there’s a lot to consider.
Patients believe that the healers clearly specify what medicine should be used, but that’s far from the truth. There have been countless times when I’ve been dumbfounded by the prescriptions brought in by patients.
When I see prescriptions that vaguely state “medicine for stomach pain,” “medicine for headache,” or “medicine to stop bleeding,” I often feel like pulling out the hair of the healer who wrote such a prescription. If I acted on my impulses, all the healers in the capital would be bald by now.
Moreover, noble healers often refuse to treat anyone who isn’t a noble. Those who can’t get treated by them have no choice but to come to me, the pharmacist, hoping for treatment. In the end, I handle both diagnosis and prescription.
Commoners, who have to do rough work themselves, are more prone to getting injured compared to nobles who only lift forks and knives while clad in fine clothes.
Sometimes, I even have to make house calls for patients who can’t come directly to the pharmacy.
Patients needing help are found in various places.
I’ve been to a logging camp outside the capital to treat a lumberjack injured by a fallen tree, to a noble’s kitchen to treat a maid burned while cooking, and to a ranch to treat someone kicked by a horse.
I’ve climbed ladders to treat someone who fell from a roof while repairing it, and even entered a brothel to treat a prostitute who was beaten by a customer and couldn’t regain consciousness.
It doesn’t matter what kind of work the patient does or where they are. I will go wherever necessary with my medical bag, even if it’s within the capital.
“Jane! It’s been too long since you last visited. I feel neglected.”
The person playfully pouting in front of me was Ian, the crown prince.
Ian brushed his silky, silver-gray hair back. His striking blue eyes shone brightly under his neat forehead.
His sharp eyes might make him look irritable, but his balanced nose, perfectly sized lips, and especially his smooth yet strong jawline made him overwhelmingly attractive.
His face was so captivating that the word ‘enchanted’ seemed to describe him perfectly. Just looking at him made me smile.
‘Get a grip! Don’t be swayed by his appearance. Think of him as a siren who lures people in with looks instead of a voice.’
If I fell for his looks, I might end up coming to the palace every day. Steeling myself, I wiped the smile off my face.
“I visit you regularly, once a week. How can I come more often than that? I’d like to give you a three-month supply of medicine.”
“If you give me that much at once, I won’t be able to store it properly or take it all. I need you to come and check on me each time to see any improvement.”
“You don’t even prepare the medicine yourself; you have your attendants do it.”
“Still.”
Even though he’s not a child, he sulks every time I offer to give him a larger supply of medicine. Ian always insisted that he wouldn’t take his medicine unless I brought it, threatening to let his health deteriorate until I came. He even refused to see other healers, using his health as leverage to force me to make house calls.
Although I don’t dislike him, visiting the palace is mentally exhausting. My exotic appearance, with rough red hair and black eyes, always attracts attention. Thus, visiting the palace is uncomfortable.
People who see me for the first time find it odd that someone like me, who doesn’t fit the imperial palace’s image, is summoned by the crown prince. Even I haven’t gotten used to it.
—
“I’m tired.”
I massaged my sore shoulders and legs, getting ready for bed early.
Two days ago, I wandered around the palace for a long time, and my muscles were still sore. Without a chance to rest, I worked non-stop to process the moisture-laden medicinal herbs. I had no time to relieve my fatigue.
“If it weren’t for that gardener, I might have still been wandering around, starving. It’s all because the palace is so large and complex. How do the people working there find their way?”
I couldn’t forget the gardener’s surprised expression when I asked, “Do you know the way out of the palace? I’m not a strange person; I just got lost while running an errand.”
“His face was full of disbelief, like ‘How could anyone get lost here?’ But even without that expression, he was unforgettable. I’ve never seen such a handsome man.”
The middle-aged man was strikingly handsome, almost too good-looking to be a gardener.
“His face seemed familiar somehow… Who did he resemble? Ah, I shouldn’t be thinking about this now. I need to move the charcoal.”
I quickly put out the flames on the wood with sand and transferred the charcoal to the brazier. The pharmacy was a wooden building, and the close proximity to other buildings meant I always had to be cautious about fire.
Although the buildings were damp after three days of rain, reducing the risk of fire, it didn’t hurt to be careful. I moved the charcoal into the brazier and brought it to my room to keep warm.
“Tonight, I’ll sleep warmly.”
Avoiding the chilly, damp air, I pulled the blanket over my head. As soon as I buried my face in the pillow, I fell into a deep sleep, as if sinking into a swamp.
—
I woke up before dawn because I heard voices.
“… found it?”
“Too … to find it.”
“We must … anyway…”
I’m not a light sleeper, but since the burglary a few months ago, I’ve woken up at the slightest noise in the early morning. Although I didn’t lose much except for some tools and herbs for making perfumes, the thought of someone entering my space without permission was terrifying, even for someone as fearless as me. Since then, I haven’t slept well, even at small noises.
Most of the time, the noises were just the wind knocking things over or the building creaking due to moisture, but this time I heard people talking. And it was an unfamiliar voice.
‘Voices? Is there a thief?’
The thought of someone entering my space scared me, and my hands trembled. I prided myself on being brave, but the intrusion of strangers made me nervous.
I tried to stay calm.
The talking outside stopped, but I heard the sound of someone rummaging through things.
‘Do they not know someone is here?’
It seemed they were searching for something valuable, as the sound of rummaging was quite loud. They didn’t seem worried about waking me up.
‘I don’t have anything valuable, but I hope they leave soon.’
I stayed still, holding my breath. Luckily, my sleeping quarters were in a corner of the pharmacy, hidden by shelves full of medicinal herbs, so outsiders wouldn’t easily find this space.
‘I don’t like the thought of them messing up my organized herbs, but I have no choice.’
I grabbed the candlestick by my bedside, hoping it could be used as a weapon if necessary, and waited for them to leave after finding what they were looking for.
After a long wait, the sounds outside ceased, and the pharmacy fell silent.
“Cough, cough! What’s that smell? Cough, cough!”
A pungent smell filled the air, and I realized something was wrong. Although it was dark, I noticed smoke seeping through the door crack.
“Those damned thieves!”
Not satisfied with stealing, they had set the pharmacy on fire. There was no separate window in my room. Staying here would mean suffocating to death.
—
