Jia quietly stepped forward, setting her satchel down near the table. The ministers, guards and everyone present in the room had their gazes pinned on her. She could feel the weight of their stares penetrating her back, as if they were waiting for her to make a single wrong move.
Curse her fate!
How was she supposed to concentrate under such tight pressure? She wasn't used to this kind of scrutiny.
Mixing herbs and tending to villager's health was one thing, but standing in a grand chamber before royal ministers and courtiers was something entirely. She hadn't signed up to become a spectacle. If something ends up going completely wrong and the prince's health declines further in her hands, they'll definitely find ways to use her as their scapegoat.
Was that why she was summoned?
No… she can't let that happen.
Drawing in a deep breath, she forced her nerves into stillness. If she faltered now, they'd never take her seriously.
After she was done giving herself a quiet pep talk, she straightened her shoulders and turned to the motionless Prince on the bed, stepping closer to the edge.
He looked younger than she expected. The proud lines of his face even in repose, were now softened by fever's touch. Beads of sweat clung to his temple, and a faint tremor ran through his fingers.
His lips were pale, his breathing shallow but quick, as though his body still fought an unseen battle.
Jia swallowed hard.
This was her first time laying eyes on the Crown Prince, and she understood why he was called the sun of the Empire.
The court physicians stood at a neat line behind her, watching her every move. Their skepticism was almost palpable, but Jia refused to be intimidated. If there was one thing she took pride in, one thing her grandpa taught her, it was that fear had no place in healing. It didn't matter that he was a prince, because at this moment, he was her patient, and like any other patient she treated before him, she owed him nothing but her very best.
After speaking to the court physicians about what she would need to examine the prince with, the requested ingredients were promptly brought to his chamber, and she immediately went to work.
She grounded and extracted the oils she needed from what was necessary, which took a lot of time since she needed to be extra careful with it.
By the time she was done, she was holding up a small glass vial containing her hard work, the clear liquid catching the lamplight in a faint glimmer.
Fine threads of silverweed roots coiled at the bottom, but there was no time to admire her neat progress. Carefully, she dipped in a thin strap of cloth into the tincture. The scent that rose from it was faint but clean, sharp and cool, like the smell of morning air after rain.
It was perfect!
She brushed the damp cloth gently across the prince's lips, ignoring the physicians whose head, neck and eyes followed every movement that she made. The tincture was a simple diagnostic trick her grandfather had taught her, meant to moisten the lips before checking the pulse and breath. This method allowed her to better sense the body's subtle reaction.
But the moment she moistened his lips, she froze.
A trace scent lifted from his skin - faint, metallic, almost hidden beneath the heat of his fever. It wasn't herbal or bodily, but something sharp and unnatural. It reminded her of the residue left by certain tinctures gone wrong, or something else, like the taste of a coin pressed to the tongue.
Her brows furrowed.
Something wasn't right.
She leaned closer, steadying his jaw with practiced care. The subtle tremor of his lips drew her eye. It twitched once, then again, a faint irregular quiver that did not match the rhythm of his pulse. His breathing too, had a shallow hitch between each exhale, the kind that spoke not of fever, but interference, like something was disrupting the body's natural flow.
Oh no…
Jia's breath caught.
For a heartbeat, she thought it might be simple muscular fatigue - a side effect of strain and fever, but as she watched, the movement fell out of rhythm with his breathing. The tremor wasn't voluntary, nor the lingering echo of exhaustion. It was reactive, like a response to something within him, something his body was fighting desperately to repel.
Jia drew back slowly, the symptoms flashing through her mind like the sequence of a ritual: metallic trace in the body, irregular twitch, disrupted pulse, suppressed rhythm.
Each one aligned too neatly to dismiss, every observation fitting together with the precision born of long habit.
Something foreign was at work.
Her mind sifted rapidly through her grandfather's teachings, every ailment born from metals and minerals. Yet all path and diagnosis circled back to a single word that made her stomach tighten.
Poison.
But not a common one.
This wasn't the crude handiwork of an amateur physician or careless hands. It was measured, administered with care, designed to mimic fever and slip past ordinary observation.
If this was deliberate, then the Crown Prince had not collapsed from illness. He had been brought down. The weight of the thought, the danger it implied, and the consequences of speaking it aloud - made Jia wary to even breathe it out to anyone.
Behind her, one of the physicians cleared his throat. "What's with the sudden pause? Are we sure you're not just trying to waste our time so you can get money?"
Ignoring the disdain in the physician's voice, she pressed her fingers lightly to the prince's wrist, more focused now than she ever was before. His pulse fluttered erratically like the wings of a frightened bird, and then she smelled it again, the metallic clang clinging to his breath.
She drew her hand back and whispered almost to herself, "It… tastes of old coin."
"Old coin?"
The ministers chorused, her response catching everyone, including the physicians off-guard.
She rose from the edge of the bed and faced the ministers, keeping her gaze low, her head slightly bowed. "I believe that His Highness doesn't have a fever. Whatever he's suffering from, it's attacking the blood and the nerves. His body is fighting something it cannot purge."
The chief physician frowned. "And what are you trying to say?"
"I'm saying, with all due respect, that you missed an important detail."
She turned to the chief physician now. "Has His Imperial Highness been taking something daily? A tonic, perhaps… a drink he's accustomed to? I ask because if the symptoms are surfacing only now, then the cause has likely been building in his system for some time."
A tense silence followed.
Finally, Minister Alden said, "If you're wrong, healer, you risk your life, are you aware?"
Jia inclined her head without hesitation. "Yes, My Lord. But if we continue treating him for fever, we'll only drive the main course deeper. His body will fail. That's the only explanation I can give in regards to why he hasn't shown any signs of improvement."
She could feel the weight of every stare in the room, judging, but continued regardless. "I can't promise the cure, but I can slow its spread… if I'm allowed to continue?"
Minister Ellis replied, "Do whatever it is you can to save him, as long as we do not lose the sun of the Empire tonight."
That decided it.
Jia turned to the physicians now, requesting their help, and they were all in favor of helping her. She took out a small vial from her satchel and uncorked it, dropping a few amber mix into the basin of water beside the bed. The faintest trace of bitterness lingering in the air, and the clear surface of the water rippled, clouding slightly as the mixture dispersed.
One of the young physicians passed her a clean cloth, and Jia dipped it into the water before carefully dabbing the mixture across the prince's lips and temples. It left a faint sheen upon his skin, whilst she watched closely for any reaction.
The duvet that was used to cover the prince had been lowered to his waist, and Jia continued her careful work, trailing the damp cloth along his torso and arms.
When she was done, another court physician, tall and slender, stepped forward to hand her a clay jar sealed with wax cloth. Jia peeled it open, releasing a wave of dark and smoky fragrance - laced with herbs that clung to the air like incense.
She dipped her fingers into the cool paste, stirring it to wake its potency before applying it to the prince's chest in slow, deliberate circles. The paste spread easily under her touch, leaving faint trails of warmth that soon began to shimmer with rising steam.
Gasps rippled through the room as faint mists began to curl upward, carrying the metallic scent Jia had described earlier. It filled the chamber, wrapping around them like a proof incarnate.
The gathered physicians looked at her now not with doubt, but dawning belief.
"A binding poultice," Jia explained the herb she used. "It draws out what shouldn't be inside."
Although she tried to sound composed and stay calm, her pulse hammered in her ears.
Time blurred into a haze of motion and focus. She had no idea how many hours had slipped past, only that the candles had burned low and her hands ached from work. Then, at last, a flicker of movement broke through the stillness.
The Crown Prince's finger twitched visibly.
Jia pressed her fingers lightly to his wrist. His pulse stuttered - uneven, but stronger than before.
Relief surged through her at the positive response, but she didn't let it slow her hands. With renewed purpose, she uncorked another small vial and rubbed a faint salve across his wrist, where the blood ran closest to the surface.
Sweat beaded her temples, and her sleeves were damp with effort. Still, she kept her motion precise and practiced.
By the time she withdrew, the flush of his fever had dulled slightly, and everyone reacted to the progress.
The ministers stared in stunned disbelief, and Jia released a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding.
"He'll need constant monitoring," she said at last, mostly to herself than to the royals. "And whatever he's been consuming - for the prince's sake, stop it immediately ."
After seeing the result of her work, no one had the courage to speak against her.
"This uhm… uh… ailment - can it be cured?" Asked the chief physician.
Jia hesitated for a while. "It can be, if we stop feeding him the cause. If no one minds, I'd really like to take a look at all the dishes, drinks and medicine His Highness had tonight. I believe he must've consumed the source for it to kick in during the banquet."