Chapter 6
‘So he really believes the curse was lifted because of him.’
‘But I don’t think that’s the case.’
‘The last tea of my life was quite enjoyable. I doubt I’ll ever have the chance to enjoy tea again.’
Valentis looked at himself in the mirror and scoffed.
“Your Highness…”
The only person allowed into his bedchamber was Robin—his most trusted aide.
For reasons unknown, Valentis had drastically minimized the number of attendants within the palace.
Now shirtless, Valentis revealed a jet-black tattoo etched over the left side of his chest, where his heart lay—a geometric pattern, symbolic of slaughter and terror: the mark of the dragon.
Ever since he accepted the heart of a dragon, whenever he lost control of his mana, the tattoo spread beyond his chest to his neck and thighs.
He had to face this spreading mark like a thick, branching vein every morning. But today, it remained confined to his upper chest, not creeping down to his abdomen.
“Ha!”
Even at the miraculous sight, Valentis could only sneer.
“How on earth…”
If only the curse were removed, Arthur could be fully healed at any time.
But for Valentis, who bore the heart of a dragon, this scar was eternal.
And yet today, the extent of the tattoo was strangely limited.
“I saw you went out last night. Where did you go, Your Highness?” Robin asked.
“Did you go to see a healer, perhaps? Or…”
“I just had some tea, Robin.”
“…Excuse me?”
Robin looked baffled.
Even now—and three years ago—Valentis had been the vanguard in hunting monsters.
Ever since losing his mother to a monster, he had accepted this as his fate.
But during a battle three years ago, he had obtained a dragon’s heart.
And not just any monster’s—one from a dragon known for its massacres.
Now the blood of a creature he despised ran through his veins.
“Tea, sir?”
“Yes, tea.”
“…I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Exactly what it sounds like. Tea. The kind you steep from leaves and drink.”
After becoming half-beast, Valentis had become a warrior stronger than anyone—but the mana he once wielded like breathing had grown wild and uncontrollable.
It boiled within him like an active volcano, ready to erupt.
Its power could destroy not only those near him but himself as well.
So Valentis refrained from using mana whenever possible.
“If Your Highness wishes to drink tea…”
Perhaps his tastes had changed. Robin chose his words carefully so as not to upset him.
“All this… just from a sip of tea?”
“…”
Quick-witted and perceptive, Robin realized Valentis wasn’t lying.
His expression, tinged with a hint of disbelief, made it obvious.
“What kind of tea was it?”
Robin knew Valentis had secretly gone somewhere.
He desperately sought a way to control his berserk mana.
But who had brewed that tea?
An alchemist conducting research in the Kentaroff Mountains? A famed healer?
“…Just an ordinary apothecary owner.”
“…What?”
Robin’s face twisted in disbelief.
“An herbal tea made from plants cultivated by a low-ranking spiritist.”
“…”
Valentis was destined to become emperor—a man even foreign nations feared.
And yet the one who had eased his condition… was a low-level spiritist?
“No spirit magic, no special treatment. Just a single cup of tea.”
“…”
“And look at the result, Robin.”
“…”
Robin didn’t know what kind of face he should be making.
Valentis chuckled as he looked at Robin, whose mouth hung open in disbelief.
“Yeah. I made the same face at first.”
“…”
“The mana that felt like it was going to rip through my skin has calmed. And as you can see, the tattoo…”
Valentis shrugged.
“Even the searing pain in my heart has eased.”
He buttoned up his shirt and flopped onto the sofa.
Robin, ever quick on his feet, recovered and spoke.
“Then we must keep that apothecary close to you, Your Highness.”
Robin exclaimed.
The dragon’s heart was dangerously volatile—it could easily kill Valentis.
If someone could calm that power, she must stay by his side.
“If not that, then at least we must acquire the tea leaves Your Highness drank—!”
“Well…”
“Yes?”
“We can’t.”
Valentis slumped on the narrow sofa.
“What do you mean, we can’t? Were the leaves from an extinct plant or something—”
“I told her I don’t drink tea.”
“What?!”
Valentis mumbled gloomily, a hint of wounded pride in his voice.
“I told her I’d never drink tea again.”
“That’s the problem, sir?!”
“It is. It’s a matter of pride.”
With a completely serious expression, Valentis sprang up from the sofa.
“I shouldn’t have said that…”
Robin stood stunned behind him.
That’s the issue right now? Your life could be saved!
“Then what herbs were in the tea you drank? I’ll get them immediately.”
“Just plain old Hedelia.”
“…What?”
Hedelia was a common herb even in the imperial palace.
It was safe and mild, with minimal side effects—cheap and widely available, even to commoners.
“That woman also cured Arthur Clafield’s insomnia with it.”
“Wait, the one who cured Arthur is the same person who treated you?”
“Yes.”
A low-level spiritist had soothed even the curse of a monster?
“This might not be the herbs themselves—it could be her power,” Valentis murmured.
Robin was determined to bring the woman to the capital—finally, a chance to save his prince.
But…
“But I already told her I wouldn’t drink tea. What should I do?”
“Didn’t you just say it was regular Hedelia?”
Valentis nodded as if daring Robin to explain.
“If this effect is due to that apothecary’s ability, not just the herb, then surely other remedies made by her would help Your Highness as well.”
Robin growled with determination.
“If not tea, then we’ll mix it in with alcohol or something. I’ll get her leaves at once!”
“This really is fascinating.”
Arthur had come during the day—unexpected, as he usually visited only at night.
“It’s the same tea leaves, and yet it only works when brewed by you, Sophie.”
Even when he used the same leaves Sophie gave him, the tea had no effect.
Only tea made by Sophie herself was effective.
“Maybe it’s because of affinity.”
“Affinity?”
“Spiritists are born with a unique affinity,” Sophie explained.
“Each person can make contracts with different spirits based on that affinity.”
“I see.”
“Yes. And unlike mana, which can be controlled, affinity naturally seeps out of us.”
Sophie was delicately slicing herbs with a small knife.
“Just preparing ingredients by hand or stirring medicine like this lets affinity seep into it.”
“Then maybe I’m being healed thanks to your affinity, Sophie.”
Arthur smiled, closely watching Sophie’s every little movement.
Her hands were small and neatly shaped.
Those tiny hands nurtured life and breathed vitality into it—and it was incredibly endearing.
She had a habit of pouting her lips when focused.
She was doing it now.
“Heh.”
Arthur let out a quiet chuckle and reached out to brush a lock of hair off Sophie’s cheek with his thumb and forefinger.
“Thank you. I can’t touch my face with these hands right now.”
“Then let me be your hands for now.”
Thanks to Sophie’s affinity, Arthur recovered quickly and returned to his healthy old self.
The scar on his neck faded, and his insomnia greatly improved.
To others, she might seem like just another apothecary—but to Arthur, she had revealed a special power.
“The Duke’s hands are now my hands? I better start buying expensive things.”
“If there’s anything you want, just say it. I’ll get you whatever you like.”
Arthur’s voice was sweet as honey.
“I was joking, you know…”
“But I wasn’t.”
To Arthur, Sophie was like a quiet flame burning gently in the corner of her apothecary.
Not strong enough to hurt anyone, but powerful enough to save lives—and steady enough to burn for a long time.
Arthur tucked away that precious flame in his heart—visible only to him, something he didn’t want to share with anyone else.
He wanted to take her to the capital immediately, but Sophie seemed content with a peaceful, quiet life.
“Ah, this is nice.”
It wasn’t just Arthur. James, Ben, and the other guards had also fallen under the tranquil charm of the apothecary.
The garden, the greenhouse, the cute spirits floating about, the rough yet warm teacups—everything was perfect.
This is absurd.
Robin, who had just arrived, clicked his tongue at the sight of the dazed, relaxed knights.
“Bunch of fools.”
He shook his head in disbelief.
“Hmm? A customer?”
Sophie, who had been organizing herbs, excused herself from Arthur and approached Robin.
“Are you here for some medicine?”
“Yes. I’d like to buy some herbs.”
“Do you have something specific in mind? A condition or symptoms, maybe?”
“…”
Robin hesitated.
“Just… give me anything.”
“Oh no, that’s not safe. It could cause side effects.”
Sophie eyed him up and down—his fine clothes, his unfamiliar hands—clearly not a local. He seemed like someone of high rank.
He looked familiar somehow.
“In that case, I’ll give you something gentle, best consumed as a tea.”
Robin waved her off with a vague response.
At that moment, Sophie realized he was someone from Valentis’s side.
It seemed the tea had indeed worked on him too.
Perhaps, like Arthur, Valentis also suffered from a curse and insomnia.
“All right. I’ll prepare a blend good for blood loss recovery.”
Sophie smiled brightly and packed the herbs generously.
Let’s see how well you enjoy it.
If it’s not made by me, it won’t work anyway.
As she recalled Valentis’s arrogant expression, Sophie handed the herbs to Robin and sent him on his way.
