"There was once a foreign noble from the far western lands, and he was popularly known as Mathew II," Jia began casually, almost conversational, like she were talking about the weather and not some centuries-old tragedy. "He was filthy rich too, generous when it suited him, and terribly proud of how clever he was. Apparently, he used to make absurd boasts about how his mind was sharper than a physician's scalpel…or was it… something like that?… it had to be."
A few brows lifted at her choice of words, but Jia, whose gaze remained low, cluelessly went on.
"To keep that oh-so-brilliant mind eternally sharp, his doctors gave him a special tonic - something silvery, they said. Their words were that it would purify the body and make the thought flow clearer. It did work… to a point. Mathew II started to feel stronger after that, livelier, and even inexplicably wiser."
Jia made a small circling gesture with her hand, as if illustrating the man's swelling ego. "But after a while, things got odd. His mood. They explained his mood changed like that of the weather - one moment cheerful - and the next, not."
"He started forgetting people's faces. Names. And even his own. He once hosted a grand feast and didn't recognize his wife. Called her an imposter before the faces of other important guests who were present. That must've gone well."
The courtiers stifled a cough, almost sounding like a suppressed laugh. Even Hugo had to press his lips into a thin line to keep himself from reacting.
"To be honest, the story didn't say how it ended," Jia continued. "But by the end, he spent his days muttering to himself. Some stories claim he even laughed at the walls, or that the heavens were whispering secrets to him. They all thought he had lost his mind from the mental strain, because he knew too much and his brain could not handle it. But no - it was the tonic. The 'silvery medicine' that was supposed to make him smarter. It poisoned him slowly over the years until his body reached the limit of what it could handle. But because no one knew at that time, he continued to take the tonic without fail, even more than he did on a daily basis."
No one spoke. Even the guards seemed to be listening to the tale.
"When the truth finally came out, the Physician revealed that the tonic was a gift from some traveling traders who had no idea what he was selling. The nobleman he served, Mathew II, had been desperate for more wisdom, so a full research could not be conducted on the tonic before the noble started to consume it. There were a few others who had been victims to it."
Her brows furrowed slightly as she went on, "After his untimely passing, the Western lands also stopped using metal compounds in medicine altogether. To be honest, I did my own digging later, and found that mercury poisoning is dangerously tricky. It hides behind other illnesses and reveals itself when it's already too late. Fevers, typhoid, tremors, and even early signs of mental traumas were common imitations. But there's always one thing that gives it away."
"Mercury poison has a specific scent. Once noticed, it's easier to put a name to it."
Prince Hugo, who had been following her story, asked, "So when you perceived the trace of metal - you remembered the story?"
"Yes, Your Highness," Jia replied without hesitation. "But that doesn't mean every trace of metal leads to Mercury poisoning. In your case, it was easier to tell due to the imitation. Regardless of how well it imitates other illnesses, it can't hundred percent perfect them. Plus, I've been told I have… unusually sharp senses… perhaps that was the reason I was able to sense the metal before the physicians did. It wasn't proof, but it was enough to raise a red flag."
Another long pause followed. The Emperor studied her with an unreadable look.
The quiet in the room deepened until even the guards seemed to be holding their breath.
Finally, he said, "You mention a tale. But I realize this tale shares a similarity to what I heard about the Mad Matter history. You definitely know your stuff, girl."
The Empress's gaze softened as well, and she regarded Jia with something dangerously close to approval. Lysander caught the look and frowned.
"Healer Jia, you say?"
The Emperor uttered her name, and Jia lowered her head even further.
"I commend your methods concerning how well you shared the details about the mercury poison. It's quite unheard of for a village healer to possess such insight. You've not only shared valuable knowledge on the matter, but you saved the life of my heir. That, I believe, deserves more than a passing thank-you from the imperial household."
The Empress cast a look in her husband's direction. "Are you considering taking another courtesan?"
Jia froze.
The Emperor chuckled at that.
"Hardly. I agree she knows her craft well - and I'd like her to continue in that field."
He turned his gaze back to Jia. "You shall be appointed as Prince Lysander's temporary physician, healer Jia. Do you accept this offer?"
"...What?"
The word slipped out from Jia's lips before she could swallow it back. The silence that followed was so sharp it could've sliced through her last nerves.
Prince Lysander?
What did he need her for?
As if they were both wondering the same thing, Lysander's head snapped toward his father. "But Father, I have my own physicians… surely–"
"My decision is final," the Emperor interrupted smoothly, barely sparing him a glance. "You are unwell, Lysander. Let her see to you as well."
Jia blinked. Then blinked again.
A temporary physician? For a prince?
"Your Majesty," Jia went on her knees. "As much as I am honored, I really do not think I'm fit for this."
The Emperor's gaze narrowed. "So you would refuse a royal appointment?"
Jia pressed her lips into a thin line.
She didn't like the sound of being anyone's temporary physician. She'd rather accept another pouch of money and be on her way home. But judging from the emperor's tone - and the guards by the door, she suspected her honest response was already no longer an option. To be honest, she was just explaining what she knew because she was afraid they'd somehow involve her in the poisoning of the prince, but maybe she had impressed them a bit too much?
Curse her luck.
She told her grandpa this would happen.
From one prince to the next. She's not even allowed a few days to think about it.