His words made Jia freeze where she stood.
Of all the things she had imagined him saying, that wasn't even close to being on her list. Her breath caught, and for a long moment, her mind went blank.
When she finally remembered how to breathe again, her mouth opened slightly, then closed, because - what exactly was the right answer to that?
Her first instinct was to defend herself - to tell him she didn't want to be here, that the order had come directly from the Emperor himself.
How could she refuse a royal appointment? He was there when the Emperor made that decree, was he not?
But of course, she kept that thought to herself. He already seemed irritated by her very presence, and Jia wasn't particularly eager to discover how a one-way trip to the palace dungeon felt like. And frankly, it was too early for her to experience dungeon life.
So, she forced herself to stay still, her hands clasped tightly before her to hide the nervous tremors in her fingers. The silence that stretched between them was heavy and uncomfortable.
She finally drew a quiet breath, straightened her shoulders and said in the most carefully neutral tone she could manage, "Your Highness, I'm only trying to fulfill my duties."
"You don't have to anymore," he said flatly, as if that settled the matter. "I'll triple whatever he's paying you. Just leave. Don't waste my time. State your price and go. Isn't that what peasants like you want? You'll do anything for money, won't you? I'm giving you an easy way out."
The words struck Jia more than he probably meant them, but there was no reaction from her. Besides, she wasn't sure whether to feel offended or impressed. Offended by the insult, or impressed that he managed to sound that disdainful without raising his voice.
But then he turned to face her.
How was it fair that someone so breathtaking could sound so unbearably cruel? His beauty almost made the insult sting worse - like being scolded by a painting that had come to life.
She could understand the reason behind the whispers now, and they weren't exaggerating.
His features were all fine lines and balance, the kind sculptors dreamed of, but never quite captured. Every angle was sharp enough to cut, yet softened by the faint shimmer of light that touched his skin. His lashes were long enough to cast shadows when he blinked, framing eyes of muted silver that looked too clear, too sharp, like they could see through stone. His dark hair framed his face, and a thin gold earring glinted by his jawline.
Of course someone who looked like this would be arrogant. The heavens must've made him that way on purpose to test everyone's patience, and hers too, apparently.
Jia exhaled softly, meeting his gaze head-on. "Well, Your Highness, since you want me to cut to the chase… I don't need your money."
The silence that followed was taut, almost enough to make his expression shift slightly.
Then, she added with a hint of stubborn practicality. "I can work for it."
"I see…" the words fell from his lips like something distasteful. His gaze swept over her, slow and assessing, the kind that made her feel like she'd said something offensive without realizing it.
Her confidence wavered just slightly, and her eyes flickered downward when she realized she might have crossed an invisible line.
"You can work for it, right?" His voice turned cool, almost bored, as if he were speaking to a servant who'd outstayed her welcome. " We'll see about that. Get out."
The words struck sharper than Jia expected. For a heartbeat, she stood there frozen, wondering if she'd heard right. Was that a threat or were her ears acting up?
She had never had anyone speak to her like that - like she was the cause of their misfortune. She understood that the Emperor might've forced a healer on him, but was that really a reason to treat her as though she wasn't any less of a human like him?
"Do I need to repeat myself?"
The edge in his tone shattered her thoughts. She immediately bowed, short and curt, before turning on her heels and leaving his chamber. When the door shut after she was out, the hallway felt heavier somehow, oppressive, almost mocking.
A dark cloud seemed to loom over her head as she trudged out of his wing, her thoughts sharp with disbelief.
She no longer fancied the second prince anymore.
*********
Jia made her way towards the Imperial Infirmary, formally called the Hall of benevolent art. It was a quiet, ivy-laced section of the Imperial palace reserved for the royal physicians and scholars training to become one.
The corridor ahead gleamed with the same polished marble floors, the sunlight spilling through latticed windows that framed the inner garden. Incense drifted faintly from bronze burners, mingling with the dry scent of ink and old scrolls. Just like every other corner of the palace, this place was another masterpiece - elegant, orderly and intimidatingly grand.
The sound of quills scratching against scrolls carried from the adjoining chambers, mingling with the murmur of scholarly discourse. It was serene, but it was not welcoming in the slightest.
Every physician housed within these quarters was male. Most were sons of noble or scholarly lineage, educated in the Empire's renowned academies before being granted the honor of serving within the palace. Jia, however, was neither of noble birth nor of that privileged circle. And though her skills had earned her a place few could dream of, it also placed her in a stunning position no woman had ever held before.
It was unbelievable how, only after she'd gotten here that she realized she was the first female who impressed the Emperor enough for him to actually make her their physician, if only temporarily too.
When the decree of her appointment had arrived, the chamberlain himself had been careful to emphasize where she would be stationed. The chief physician had concurred without hesitation, assigning her a chamber among the scholars rather than arranging a separate quarter as might have been proper. They claimed it was only practical, that a royal physician should be treated no differently from her peers.
But Jia wasn't stupid.
To them, it was unthinkable to make exceptions for her, even when custom demanded it. She had a feeling the ministers had a hand in it too. Because there was more behind that decision than simple logistics. Why assign her in a quarter filled with only male physicians?
It sounded like a convenient way to keep her under their watch, or better still, isolate.
But why? What for?
Something told her the ministers probably gave His Imperial Majesty the idea to take her in as Prince Lysander's temporary physician too, but she could not defend that claim just yet.
When she stepped into the hall, the air shifted uneasily. Conversations dimmed as though she was a ghost that had just invaded their privacy, quills hesitated mid-stroke, and the scholars who lingered by the long tables straightened in reflexive discomfort. A few exchanged glances, their expressions flickering between curiosity before it soured into pure disdain.
"Look who's back," one of the scholars began, closing his book with a soft thud that sounded far louder in the hush. "A mere peasant girl, walking these halls as if she belongs here. You're back so early again. Did you not find His Highness this time? Hmm… I wonder why."
Snickers rippled down the table, the laughter restrained but cruel all the same. It wasn't shocking news to anyone that the second prince has been avoiding her since her first day here. Almost everyone in the palace has been talking about it. Like she said from the start, rumors, both true and false, travel faster around here.
"Thought she could make a difference," another voice jeered, but Jia paid no attention to them and kept moving, even when their words trailed behind her like the unpleasant residue of a smoke.
The corridor to her quarters was empty and quiet, the sound of her own footsteps echoing in the stillness. But as she reached her door, her steps faltered.
It was slightly ajar.
Her heartbeat quickened as she pushed it open.
The faint scent of spilled ink hit her nostrils, and her eyes widened slightly. Her worktable lay overturned, her scrolls scattered across the floor. Her bedding had been dragged out of place, the pillow slashed open till it spilled out soft innards.
The herbal pouches she'd spent hours sorting this morning were torn open, their content staining the floor in messy piles of crushed leaves and powder.
As if that wasn't enough shock for the day, angry slashes of ink formed jagged words across the pale walls. It reads:
Go back to your filthy little Village, Peasant.
You don't belong here.
Let the men do the real work!
Did no one ever tell you how ugly you look?
A miserable ugly little duckling!
No one wants you here! You're just a charity case the Emperor forgot to throw out!
For once, Jia wished she didn't know how to read. Not because the words stung, but because reading these words made her realize just how pathetic those pampered brats truly were. They were genuinely too old to be indulging in such nonsense.
The childish insults scrawled across the wall were meant to humiliate her, to remind her of place.
Those idiots didn't even know she could read.
The whole point of this petty stunt was probably a test, cause why else would they write these things when she already made them believe she was illiterate? It seems like someone didn't buy her act and wanted to catch her off guard.
How clever of them.
Shaking her head, she crossed the small room and began gathering her scattered belongings, folding and refolding them with quiet precision. It was the third time this week that they had invaded her quarters, tossing her things about as if her space, and by extension, her dignity meant absolutely nothing to them at all.
She had considered reporting it to the Second Prince, but even that no longer seemed like a helpful option.
As she stacked her medical notes and wiped a smear of ink off a page, the weight of it all began to sink in. If she keeps to herself like this, trying to remain invisible in the palace, she'll never be safe.
They treated her this way because they could. Because she was alone.
If one young scholar caused trouble, their family name or noble parents would probably back them up without hesitation. But her? A low-born with nothing but her task in the palace. She was easy prey.
If she was going to survive the next six months here, she couldn't rely on just her skill or patience alone. She needed allies – strong ones. People who could make others think twice before crossing someone like her.
Then, she would find the unfortunate soul who thought this was a clever joke..
Her grandpa always says, survival comes easier when you aren't standing alone.
And that would be her first goal.