Chapter 9

I held the potion in my mouth, popped open the cap, and spat it onto the ground. My injured left arm was trembling, and without hesitation, I poured the potion over it.

The purple liquid touched my skin and was absorbed instantly.

Everyone watched as the potion healed my open wound little by little. The sharp pain also started to fade.

“……”

Silence filled the space. Even the people helping others from the fire stopped what they were doing to watch.

I poured the rest of the potion on my arm. The wide-open wound disappeared, leaving only a thin red line. That too would heal soon.

“I…”

I stopped for a moment. Was it okay to say this?

But there was no time to hesitate.

“I’m a doctor personally hired by His Grace, the Archduke.”

The people who had just been whispering and rejecting me now stared at me in shock.

“I was late because of an accident on the way here.”

Clink. The empty bottle hit the ground and rolled.

Everyone’s eyes followed it.

“If you don’t believe me, go check with the Archduke later.”

This was a gamble. But a high-chance one.

One of the reasons I came to the Wintergarten Archduke’s estate after escaping exile was because I looked similar to someone from that family—black hair, blue eyes, and a small beauty mark under my eye.

My mouth was dry.

“But right now, please let me save that child.”

A child was dying right in front of me. I was tired of watching people die when I could have helped.

I stared at the people around me, desperately.

Their eyes went back and forth between the potion bottle and me.

Then someone finally spoke.

“…Can you really save her?”

“Mirriam!”

It was Celine’s mother, Mirriam. Her eyes were dark with tears as she grabbed my hand tightly.

“Can you really save her?”

She asked in a demanding voice, not soft or kind—but I nodded without hesitation.

“As long as we don’t waste more time—yes.”

Her eyes trembled. After a long pause, she said through tears,

“If anything goes wrong with my child because of your treatment… I won’t forgive you.”

I didn’t avoid her eyes and calmly replied,

“Then don’t forgive me.”

Mirriam collapsed, sobbing as she held onto my clothes.

“…Please save her.”

“Mirriam…”

“Please, please save my child.”

Her desperate words weighed heavy on me.

I looked up. The cold winter air brushed past my face.

Yes. Today, I will save that child—and these people.

“Maria.”

“Y-Yes?”

“Do you have any flame-grass?”

When Mirriam realized her daughter was dying, she made up her mind: at the very least, her child wouldn’t die alone.

She had already lost her husband. If she lost Celine too, there would be no reason to keep living. Her world had turned black and white.

‘Please… someone, anyone…’

Even if it was a devil, it didn’t matter. If she could see her daughter smile again, she would give her life.

Then, someone appeared—not a devil, but a savior.

“Two roots of flame-grass. Grind the noctil herbs. I’ll boil the shinta berries. Can you get it ready in five minutes?”

“But flame-grass is—”

“No time to explain. If you believe me, then trust me fully.”

Her face was half-covered by a rag, but she looked young.

She was a doctor hired by the Archduke. A person who used forbidden potions without fear.

And she said she could save Celine.

“Mirriam, please give this to Celine. The potion must reach near her lungs, but be careful it doesn’t go into her windpipe.”

She handed over a bottle with golden powder swirling inside. It was a potion.

Mirriam’s hand turned pale from gripping it tightly.

She didn’t hesitate long. She gently lifted Celine and slowly poured the potion into her mouth.

“Just a little more, Celine. For Mom, okay?”

She fought back tears and carefully fed her daughter the potion.

Thankfully, Celine swallowed it little by little. Hope lit up on Mirriam’s face.

“Good girl. Almost done.”

Maybe it was her imagination, but Celine seemed to be swallowing more easily now.

After feeding her the last of the potion, Mirriam gently laid her down.

At some point, the pink-haired girl reappeared at her side. Her sharp eyes looked carefully at Celine.

“She’s okay now.”

“…What?”

“I mean the child. The danger is gone for now.”

Mirriam quickly looked down.

“Ah… Ahh…”

The woman was right.

Celine’s breathing had calmed. She was still in pain, but her face looked better than before.

Mirriam’s hands trembled, her vision blurry with tears.

“I’ll use the pot now.”

No one stopped the girl anymore. They had just witnessed her stabilize a dying child with a single potion.

She hurried over to the worktable.

“Give me the noctil first.”

People followed her instructions like they were hypnotized.

“Here’s the flame-grass.”

In front of everyone, she started making medicine quickly and confidently, never taking her eyes off the pot.

More ingredients were thrown in.

“Is she really—”

“Shh.”

Someone tried to ask something but was stopped by the other doctor, who closed his eyes and raised a finger to his lips.

The girl reached over the pot. It didn’t seem hot. She didn’t even flinch.

“H-Huh?”

“What’s that?”

“My God…”

Wind stirred. Not smoke or ash, but a golden glow danced around her fingers.

Everyone watched her, silent and awestruck. Even though noise came from behind as others finished rescue work, no one turned away.

All eyes were locked on her.

Then she opened her eyes.

“It’s done.”

Tension broke like a wave.

People’s gazes, filled with fear and a little hope, crossed everywhere.

She divided the potion with skill and ran back to Celine. Like the sea parting, the crowd made way.

The doctor glanced at them and chuckled.

Mirriam watched her, spellbound.

Without hesitation, she tilted the potion bottle. Celine drank it like a baby bird. And then—

“Ugh… M-Mom…”

Celine… woke up.