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~Chapter 40~
Shariette knocked away the hand grabbing her shoulder and shouted firmly.
“……!”
Her forceful voice startled the patient’s husband. He bowed his head repeatedly.
“M-My apologies. Just save my wife. I’ll reward you with anything…!”
It was surprising how quickly people believed her, but she had no time to dwell on that.
“Nixia! Bring me the epinephrin reagent from the apothecary earlier—hurry!”
While Nixia fetched the bag of medicine, Shariette gave instructions.
“Support the lady’s back. Tilt her head slightly backward. Does she have any regular medication or food allergies?”
“N-No, none.”
“You, bring a blanket or something warm. Her body temperature will drop.”
“Me? Where am I supposed to get—”
“If not, then give me your coat!”
No one knew who she was, yet she was ordering everyone around. But her attitude was so firm and urgent that no one could argue.
“Shariette, here! Will this work?”
Taking the bottle from Nixia, Shariette tore off the ribbon and lid at once.
“Normally this would be diluted with additives, but in an emergency we’ll use it as is. Please open her mouth.”
She carefully dropped a few spoonfuls under the woman’s tongue.
“What is that…?”
“It’s for expanding the bronchial tubes. It will reduce swelling and stabilize her breathing.”
Shariette watched her breathing while replying to the husband.
Normally, she would’ve proven safety by drinking it herself, but there was no time.
“Hhhck… hhahh…”
The breathing slowly steadied. Shariette held the woman’s hand, checking her pulse and temperature, and spoke softly.
“Breathe slowly, madam. I’m an apothecary, and you weren’t poisoned. You won’t die. Do you feel pain anywhere else?”
“Suddenly… my throat closed, I couldn’t breathe… What did I eat?”
“Certain compounds in Flua flowers combined with chamomile leaf components. It irritated your airway and caused a hypersensitive reaction. The worst has passed, so just breathe calmly.”
The woman leaned against her husband, slowly inhaling and exhaling.
The apothecary’s calm, expressionless voice didn’t exactly comfort her—but it reassured her.
“Does the kitchen have ginger or licorice?”
One nervous staff member raised a hand.
“Yes! We have ginger!”
“Boil it into tea. No sugar or honey. Not too strong.”
The staff member rushed away.
“Her breathing is stable now. Lay her down, and raise her legs to help her blood pressure.”
Shariette helped the husband place cushions beneath her legs and covered her with blankets and coats borrowed from other guests.
“Keep massaging her arms and legs.”
Slowly, color returned to her lips and face.
‘She’s safe now.’
Shariette confirmed it with her eyes and sighed in relief.
“Here’s the ginger tea!”
She tasted it first, then gave it slowly to the woman.
“This will ease the symptoms. Keep her warm, and see a doctor as soon as possible in case other symptoms appear.”
“…I feel like I can breathe again. Thank you, truly.”
After confirming her condition, Shariette turned to the staff.
“Flua must be combined carefully with other ingredients. And the tart’s compote was too strong. Tell the kitchen.”
“Yes, I’ll deliver the message. Thank you…!”
The husband bowed repeatedly.
“Really, thank you. Without you… I swear on my honor, I will repay you.”
It was more respect than any ordinary apothecary could expect, but he was desperate.
Shariette thought of how nobles at Rubellot Manor had bowed in the same way for their family.
‘Family must be that precious—to bow even to someone like me.’
“What is your name, apothecary? I’ll formally send thanks to your house.”
“….”
Shariette hesitated, fingering the pendant from the Medical Association.
It wasn’t hard to say her name now. But was it okay for nobles to know?
The Argen family had hidden her existence as a shameful stain.
The whispers around her grew louder.
“She came with Lady Nixia, right? I thought she was a doctor.”
“Exactly. She saved a life—amazing.”
“I thought apothecaries only wrapped medicine, but look at her.”
“She looks fragile, but she had such presence. I moved without realizing it.”
It felt good to save someone, but they were all mistaken.
“This was just luck. If I hadn’t had epinephrin reagent—”
“Oh my, she’s modest too…!”
Shariette corrected quickly:
“It’s not modesty, it’s the truth.”
The couple, convinced she was simply humble, turned their thanks toward Nixia.
“Lady Rubellot, may we be introduced to your companion?”
Nixia smiled gently.
She had only planned to quietly make Shariette’s presence known. But now Shariette herself had put on a dramatic display.
“This is Miss Shariette Verdette, Count Genoa. She is very important to our house.”
The first time a name is revealed—it matters most of all.
The situation calmed once a doctor arrived.
Shariette handed over the patient and stepped back, but the crowd still lingered near her and Nixia.
Especially Hailey, who was eager to spread the fresh gossip.
“Miss Shariette, you were amazing. How long have you been an apothecary?”
By license, three days. By experience, Shariette answered:
“Eleven years.”
“Since childhood? Incredible! Just curious—do you also have a Gift?”
A Gift—also called a power—was a mysterious ability.
Unlike the blessings passed down in houses like Rubellot or Argen, Gifts could appear in anyone, regardless of class or age.
But it had nothing to do with Shariette.
‘If I’d had one, I’d have used it to survive long ago.’
She shook her head.
“No, I don’t.”
“I see. I heard healing Gifts disappeared long ago. Thanks to that, the Medical Association’s standing rose.”
Nixia stepped in smoothly.
“Hailey, you’ll have time to talk more later.”
“Then, may I invite Miss Shariette to my next tea party?”
“If it’s Hailey’s invitation, we must accept.”
Nixia poked Shariette until she nodded too.
Meanwhile, the tearoom’s frantic manager was still apologizing.
“I’m terribly sorry. We’ll cover all damages, suspend that menu, and re-examine everything.”
As Shariette turned her head indifferently, the manager rushed over with teary eyes.
“You’re an apothecary, right? Thank you so much. If not for you…”
Just imagining it chilled him.
If the Countess had died from negligence, he’d be dragged to prison for manslaughter against nobility.
Desperate, he grabbed her hands.
“You know ingredients so well. Could you perhaps consult on our menu combinations?”
Before Shariette could answer—
“……!”
Crash!
A glass vial slipped from her hand and shattered, golden liquid spilling across the floor.
‘This feeling…’
Shariette looked around nervously.
“Shariette? What’s wrong suddenly?”
A familiar sensation stabbed deep into her bones.
“Shasha. Stop daydreaming. Look this way, straight at me.”
A gaze—cold and metallic like glass and steel, yet clinging like coagulated blood.
