Chapter 3
“…Is there no family discount?”
Kyria asked, looking flustered.
“There’s no family discount. But there is family delivery.”
The Count pointed with his eyes at the grandfather clock in his office.
“Decide by 7 p.m. If not, tomorrow morning you’ll be eating breakfast at the viscount’s house.”
“What kind of horrible service is that? You’re a total scammer!”
Even though Kyria shouted her inner thoughts in outrage, the Count didn’t budge.
“Two hours left.”
“Kyaaah!”
Like someone who just heard a murder threat, Kyria screamed, tossed the bill and the portrait aside, and ran out of the office.
“Wah!”
The door burst open, and the maids who had been secretly eavesdropping tumbled like dominos.
Furious at the sight, Kyria stomped her feet.
“Is this funny to you? If you don’t disappear by the count of three, you’re ALL fired. Three-three-three!”
“S-sorry, my lady!”
The maids scattered in a flash.
Left alone in the corridor, Kyria stomped off to her room, fuming.
Her stress boiled to the top of her head, muddling all her thoughts.
As always, when that happened, she naturally began brewing poisons.
Paralysis potions, itching powders, even scented mixtures that would knock you out cold.
Making a potion that could send someone straight to the afterlife was easy.
The real challenge was creating poisons with special effects.
Kyria’s hands moved faster than ever.
“Phew…”
Only after piling up a mountain of poisons did her mood calm down.
After carefully disposing of them, she banged her forehead on her desk.
Two choices circled in her head:
A marriage to an ugly old toad of a husband… or four billion gold she could never touch.
“I want to feed poison to the past me who was happy about transmigrating…”
If she had known this would happen, she should have gone after a side male lead in the original story.
“…Yeah, as if I could’ve seduced anyone.”
Even before transmigration, the only things she had ever managed to charm were stray cats.
She had never succeeded with people.
Now as Kyria, nothing had changed.
Flirting? Impossible.
“Honestly, I’d have better luck seducing weeds than people.”
If she had talent for romance, she’d be dazzling in ballrooms, not hiding away in her cozy lab.
But even after transmigration, when Kyria became a shut-in, nobody was surprised.
‘Ah, so it happened at last.’
That was the typical reaction.
Apparently, both her old self and the original Kyria were natural-born hermits.
Kyria glanced at her reflection in the mirror.
Fluffy black hair like cotton candy, amethyst-purple eyes,
and a slightly sharp gaze that reminded one of a cat.
Kyria Cloverfield.
Just a one-line extra in the novel Lily’s World.
That story was about Baron’s poor daughter Lily, who healed the Crown Prince’s incurable disease and found love.
Kyria only appeared in the prologue, at the coming-of-age party.
Her single line was a sneer at timid Lily:
“Oh my. Look at that pitiful little pony.”
That was it.
The original Kyria admired the handsome Crown Prince.
So when he looked at Lily instead, she got jealous.
But after transmigration, Kyria had no idea what was happening. She only realized she was at a glittering ballroom and thought she was dreaming.
When she saw Lily, she muttered without thinking:
“Wow, she’s so pretty…”
Unfortunately, Lily had entered right when the room had gone quiet—so everyone heard.
Lily heard it too. She smiled at Kyria, beautifully, gratefully.
That smile captivated everyone.
And thanks to Kyria’s slip, Lily became the star of the night.
The ball ended peacefully, and Kyria’s original role was over.
Well, except the Crown Prince had stared at her strangely.
But he never spoke to her.
After that, Kyria just lived her own life.
Lily’s romance wouldn’t even begin for years, so there was no reason to stick around.
And besides—herbal medicine was so fun.
She started late, but learned faster than anyone.
She even corrected errors in professional textbooks.
Of course, her own talent and the Count’s financial support helped.
But her biggest motivation was something else.
“…Ugh, just thinking of that ugly viscount makes my eyes hurt.”
Kyria rubbed her eyes, picturing the toad-like fiancé’s portrait.
“That’s it. I need some eye cleansing.”
Just as she gathered her scattered thoughts—
“My lady! Lady Kyria!”
A maid rushed in after knocking.
“What’s wrong?”
“Young Master Lian is hurt! He fell trying to get out of bed…”
“What?”
Kyria had been planning to check on him anyway.
“Did you disinfect the wound?”
“No, my lady. He insisted on waiting for you.”
“…Fine. Let’s go.”
Whenever something happened to Lian, the servants always came running to Kyria first.
Because he always called for her.
And she was the one who could fix things quickest.
Though, almost nobody knew it was thanks to her apothecary skills.
Even the Count believed Kyria was just “a girl obsessed with herbs, but not very talented.”
“Lian, are you okay?”
As always, the boy sat alone on a huge bed, looking so small.
When Kyria came in, he lit up.
“Sis!”
His happy face reminded her of a golden retriever wagging its tail.
With the same black hair and purple eyes as Kyria, if not for their twelve-year age gap, people might have mistaken them for twins.
He threw himself into her arms, rubbing his cheek against hers.
“Where’s the injury?”
“It doesn’t hurt much.”
“Don’t tell me you fell again playing knight by yourself?”
“N-no!”
“Really?”
Kyria glanced at the maid behind him.
But the maid froze under Lian’s sharp glare and hurriedly fled the room.
He didn’t want his sister to know the truth.
Lian just gave her a big grin.
‘Ah… my eyes are healed.’
Kyria stroked his hair fondly.
“Now, let go so I can check the wound.”
“…Fine.”
Pouting, he let go and held out his arm.
A long scratch ran across his thin, pale arm, still bleeding a little.
“Sis, use mana diagnosis on me.”
“You don’t need that for this.”
“Still, please?”
“Good grief…”
She closed her eyes, held his hand, and scanned his mana flow.
She sent her own mana through him, unblocking clogged spots and smoothing weak ones.
The bleeding slowed and stopped.
“There. Done.”
“Wow, that feels so good… Sis, you’re like a real mage.”
“It’s different. I can’t use magic.”
“You’re way better than any mage! Way better!”
“You’re the only one who’d say that.”
She smiled, disinfected the wound, and took out a jar of salve she had made herself.
Stickyweed and Harapin fruit—the best mix for pain relief, stopping bleeding, and reducing swelling.
Her own medicines worked much better than anything sold in town.
As she dabbed it on, Lian suddenly spoke.
“When I grow up, I’ll be a knight.”
“That sounds nice.”
“And then I’ll marry you, sis.”
“Brothers and sisters can’t get married.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s against the law.”
“Why is it against the law?”
“Because… it’s not good.”
“Why is it not good?”
Scary. The dreaded kid ‘Why? Why? Why?’ combo attack.
Kyria had no choice but to dodge.
“Anyway, why do you have a wound like this? Did you try standing up alone again?”
“…Well, moving more might help me get better…”
He hesitated, then pulled back the blanket.
His legs were hard stone.
“The butler said people who can’t walk should keep moving their legs.”
“….”
She couldn’t tell him the truth.
His legs had already turned to stone.
He couldn’t feel anything below them.
This was the Medusa Disease.
No one in the Empire had ever heard of it.
At first, famous doctors and priests visited one after another.
But none could heal him.
When someone called it a curse, they all stopped coming.
Everyone gave up—except one person.
Kyria.
Even though her little brother never complained, even though he only smiled and acted spoiled, her heart hurt every time she saw him.
He reminded her of her frail younger brother from her past life.
That’s why she couldn’t quit her research.
‘The petrification is creeping up his body… I have to find a cure before it reaches his heart!’
Normal herbs did nothing.
Desperate, she tried poisonous plants.
And finally—something happened.
For the first time, Lian’s stone legs reacted. They felt a sting.
Poison held the key to curing Medusa Disease.
From then on, Kyria focused everything on poisons.
Without even realizing it, she became the Empire’s top poison expert.
But because poison was hated everywhere, she hid her identity.
She invented another persona—Medeia.
In modern words: her “alt character.”
As Medeia, she published research, sometimes getting useful feedback.
But she had reached her limits.
To study true poisonous herbs, she couldn’t stay in the South.
She needed to go North.
