Saved Him, Now I'm Obsessed (10 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 1

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My profession is that of an apothecary.

Most people think being an apothecary is an easy and simple job—just open the pharmacy door, smile pleasantly, and hand out the medicine that healers or patients request.

Not a few customers complain that, despite doing nothing, I overcharge them with expensive medicine prices.

It’s unfair! Do they even realize how much work I actually do? Beyond the grueling workload, endless study is required to prescribe the right medicine for each illness.

And that’s not all. From a patient’s perspective, they lump everything under the single word “medicine,” but I currently store over a thousand different medicinal ingredients in my pharmacy alone. Each requires its own unique method of preparation and storage. Moreover, the potency of a medicine varies drastically depending on how it’s dispensed or combined with other ingredients—it’s no small matter to keep track of everything.

Patients assume healers clearly specify exactly which medicine to use, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve looked at prescriptions brought in by patients and been utterly speechless.

Prescriptions scribbled with vague phrases like “medicine for stomachache,” “medicine for headache,” or “medicine to stop bleeding” make me so frustrated that I feel like storming off to find the healer who wrote such nonsense and yank every last hair from his head. If I’d acted on that impulse, every healer in the capital would be bald by now.

And that’s not all. Nobles who work as healers often refuse to treat anyone who isn’t of noble birth. Those denied treatment have no choice but to come to me—the apothecary—and ask for help. In the end, I end up handling both diagnosis and prescriptions myself.

Commoners, who must do hard labor with their own hands, suffer injuries far more often than nobles, who spend their days wrapped in silks and whose only manual labor consists of lifting a fork or knife.

Occasionally, I even make house calls for patients too ill to visit me themselves.

Those in need of help were scattered everywhere.

I’ve gone to lumber camps outside the Imperial City to treat woodcutters crushed by fallen trees, entered noble kitchens to heal maids burned while cooking, and even raced to pastures to aid those trampled by horse hooves.

It doesn’t matter to me what a patient does for a living or where they are—I’ll carry my medical bag and go wherever I’m needed, even if it’s inside the Imperial Palace itself.

“Jane! Isn’t it far too long since your last visit? I’m starting to feel hurt by how neglected I’ve been.”

Before me stood Ian, pouting affectionately with a playful smile. His only notable trait was that he happened to be the Crown Prince.

Ian swept back his silvery-gray hair, glossy as velvet, revealing bright blue eyes beneath a neat forehead.

Though his sharp eyes might give off a temperamental impression, his well-proportioned nose, lips neither too large nor too small, and especially his smooth yet strong jawline crafted an appearance so excessively alluring that it bordered on irresistible.

He looked precisely as one might imagine if the word “enchanting” took human form—merely looking at him brought an involuntary smile to my lips.

‘Pull yourself together! Don’t be swayed by appearances. Think of him as a siren—not one who lures with song, but with looks.’

If I let myself fall for that face, I’d probably end up having to report to the Imperial Palace every single day. With great effort, I wiped the smile from my lips.

“I come by faithfully once a week! How can I possibly visit more often than that? Honestly, I’d love to just give you a three-month supply of medicine all at once.”

“If you gave me that much at once, I’d have no confidence in storing it properly, nor would I remember to take it regularly. Only when you come to see me yourself and check up on me do I actually show any improvement.”

“You don’t even brew it yourself—you just order your servants to do it.”

“Still…”

He wasn’t a child, yet every time I offered to prepare all his medicine in one go, he’d throw a fit like this… Ian would stubbornly insist he wouldn’t take his medicine, that he’d wait for me without eating anything even when ill, and that he’d refuse examinations from any other healer. Because he kept using his health as leverage in this way, I had no choice but to make these house calls, however reluctantly.

It wasn’t that I disliked him, but visiting the Imperial Palace weighed heavily on me mentally. My exotic appearance—fiery red hair and dark eyes—always drew attention, no matter what I did. Naturally, each visit felt increasingly uncomfortable…

Anyone seeing me for the first time would surely find it strange that someone so clearly out of place in the Carlobanian Empire’s Imperial Palace was summoned directly to the Crown Prince. Even I, the one actually living it, had never quite gotten used to it.

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“I’m exhausted.”

Rubbing my sore shoulders and legs, I prepared to go to bed early.

Because I’d wandered the Imperial Palace grounds extensively two days prior, my muscles had been protesting for days with stiffness. Before the fatigue could even fade, I’d been working nonstop drying herbs saturated with moisture. There hadn’t been a moment to rest.

“If not for that gardener, I might have starved to death still wandering lost. It’s all because the Imperial Palace is so vast and confusing. How do the people who work there manage to find their way around?”

I couldn’t forget how shocked he looked when I’d said, “Do you know the way out of the palace? I promise I’m not some suspicious person—I just came in for work and got lost.”

“He had such a puzzled expression, as if thinking, ‘How could anyone possibly get lost here?’ Well, even without that look, he wasn’t someone easily forgotten—after all, I’d never seen such a handsome middle-aged man before.”

He’d been so remarkably good-looking it made you wonder if being a gardener was really the right profession for him.

“His face did seem oddly familiar, though… Who does he resemble…? Oh! This isn’t the time to be thinking about that. I need to move the charcoal quickly.”

I hurried to put out the fires clinging to the wood with sand and transferred the charcoal into the brazier. Since the apothecary was a wooden building and stood so close to neighboring structures, I always had to be extra careful with fire.

Though three straight days of rain had left the building thoroughly damp, lowering the risk of fire, it never hurt to be cautious. I filled the brazier with charcoal to provide warmth in place of the extinguished hearth and carried it into my room.

“Tonight, I’ll sleep nice and warm.”

I pulled the blanket over my head to escape the damp, chilly air. The moment my face sank into the pillow, I fell into a deep sleep as if being pulled into a swamp.

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I woke before dawn. Voices were coming from somewhere outside.

“…found it?”

“I can’t find it… it’s too…”

“I absolutely… have to… Anyway…”

Though I’m not normally a light sleeper, ever since thieves broke in a few months ago, even the faintest sounds startled me awake at dawn. They’d only taken a few tools I used for making perfumes and some medicinal herbs—my apothecary never kept large sums of money, and aside from a few expensive herbs, there wasn’t much worth stealing, so the damage hadn’t been severe.

Still, the thought of an unauthorized intruder in my space terrified even someone as fearless as me. Ever since then, I’d been sleeping restlessly at the slightest noise.

Until now, those noises had usually been objects falling in the wind or the building creaking as it expanded or contracted with humidity—sharp “tick, tick” sounds. But this time, I clearly heard human voices, unfamiliar ones at that.

‘Voices talking? Could it be thieves?’

The thought of strangers trespassing in my space made my hands tremble with fear. Though I prided myself on my courage, the intrusion of unknown outsiders rattled me.

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I tried hard to stay calm.

The talking outside stopped, but I heard the sound of someone rummaging through things.

‘Do they not even realize someone lives here?’

They were making quite a bit of noise searching—probably looking for a coin purse—and didn’t seem worried at all about waking me.

‘There’s nothing worth stealing, but I’d really appreciate it if they’d just leave quickly and quietly.’

I held my breath and stayed perfectly still. Fortunately, my sleeping room was tucked into a corner of the apothecary, hidden behind shelves full of medicinal ingredients, making it unlikely outsiders even knew such a space existed.

‘I don’t like the idea of them ruining all my carefully organized herbs, but there’s nothing I can do about it.’

Gripping the candlestick beside my bed tightly—just in case it could serve as a weapon—I waited silently for them to find whatever valuables they sought and leave.

After a long wait, the sounds of movement outside finally disappeared. The apothecary fell utterly silent.

“Cough, cough! What’s so pungent? Cough, cough!”

Along with a sharp, acrid smell, I realized something was terribly wrong. Though it was too dark to see clearly, smoke seemed to be seeping in through the door crack.

“Damn those thieving bastards!”

Not content with stealing, they’d apparently set fire to the apothecary. My bedroom had no separate window—if I stayed here much longer, I’d suffocate from the smoke.

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