How long is this conversation going to take?
Jia could hardly stand the ache in her legs and proceeded to sit on the floor, not caring how improper it might look to the guards patrolling the corridor.
Her entire body ached, whilst she let out a soft exhale that sounded far too weary for someone her age.
What she wanted now, more than anything else, was a hot meal, a basin of clean water, and an uninterrupted night of sleep that should be long enough to make her forget she even existed.
Ever since she was summoned to the Crown Prince's chamber, she hadn't had a moment to herself, not with those ministers and court physicians breathing down her neck all the time. This was the first time anyone had given her permission - or rather - forgotten about her long enough for her to sit down and breathe like the actual human being that she was.
Ugh…
She never wanted to do this again. Not in this lifetime, or the next.
"...hm?"
Her gaze drifted to the closed door, where the faint murmur of voices carelessly slipped through. The ministers were clearly still at it, talking in circles from the sound of it. She couldn't make out a word, but honestly, she was too tired to even try. Whatever they were discussing inside had taken an awfully long time, still.
To keep herself from dozing off, Jia reached into her satchel and pulled out a small worn book. The pages were filled with cramped lines of handwriting, notes on every illness she'd ever treated, and the remedies she'd use to fix them.
It was a habit she had picked early on. First, her grandpa made sure she documented everything down, no matter how trivial. Diagnosis, cause, symptoms, cure. Every success and failure went into the book she cherished. With time, it became a useful habit.
The prince's case though, was a special one. She flipped to an empty page, her lips quirking into a tired smirk. If she didn't record this one, her parents would probably rise from their graves just to scold her for slacking off. Or worse - how was she supposed to tease and make her grandpa jealous, now that she'd gone and treated a royal before he got a chance?
Hehe
Finally something worth bragging about.
The thought alone was all the motivation she needed. When she was done jotting everything she remembered, she carefully slipped the book into the second pocket of her satchel, safely tucked away from the bundles of dried herbs and vials she kept organized with near-millitary precision.
As if on cue, the door finally opened, and Jia rose to her feet.
The ministers were the first to step out before the court physicians followed behind. Jia straightened instinctively and lowered her gaze.
She was led to another private chamber, away from the prince's quarters. This one was smaller, quieter, but still carried the same cold weight of authority. When the ministers took their seats, she found herself standing before them like a suspect awaiting judgment.
Minister Alden studied her for a long moment, as though weighing how much truth she deserved. Then his tone softened theatrically.
"Young healer, your efforts tonight were commendable. His Highness's condition has improved - by the grace of the heavens, and perhaps, by your timely assistance."
Jia's brow furrowed slightly.
Perhaps, he said?
Minister Rowan cleared his throat and added, "The Emperor will be informed of the Crown Prince's recovery. You've done well to serve the Empire, even if by chance."
Jia lowered her head a bit further, careful to keep her tone even. "I only did what any other healer would have done, my lords. I'm relieved His Highness is safe."
"Indeed," Minister Graves replied. "In the meantime, hold on to this. You shall hear from us in two days, when the provincial tour concludes. A small token of gratitude for your… humble deed."
One of the physicians stepped forward and placed a small pouch in both her cupped palm, the clink of coins echoing in the chamber.
Jia stared at the pouch for a moment, her expression unreadable. This was a reward, supposedly. But… why does it feel more like a leash disguised as payment?
She liked money well enough - she wasn't going to pretend otherwise. She was even looking forward to it.
But something about this 'benevolent' gesture felt off. If this was the payment for her hardwork, why did they need her again in two days? She'd treated the prince just as they asked. Wasn't that the end of it?
*********
Meanwhile, the second prince had retired to his chambers when his brother's recovery had been confirmed. Alone, he stood by the window, watching the distant glow of the lanterns flickering against the quiet night, their dim light paling beneath the full moon's cold brilliance.
For a moment, the second prince allowed himself a quiet breath, but it was gone before it could even settle.
A sudden pain twisted through his chest, and before he could brace himself for the impact, he doubled over, a violent cough tearing through his throat.
Dark blood splattered across the marble floor, bright and startling against the pale stone. He pressed a trembling hand to his mouth, his breath coming shallow, with each inhale stinging his lungs.
Ah! It hurts!
His vision swam.
Behind him, the door slid open in a rush, and his personal attendant, who had stepped out moments earlier to confirm that the healer had left the House of Balance, froze at the sight before him.
"Your Highness!"
He hurried forward, panic tightening his voice, but the prince raised a trembling hand, wordlessly commanding the man to stay away from him. His personal attendant halted.
"But, Your Highness—!"
"I'm fine," he rasped, his voice barely above a whisper.
He struggled to push himself upright, but his legs faltered beneath him. The room seemed to tilt, nausea and dizziness colliding at once.
Refusing to seek help from his own personal attendant, he reached for the edge of the table for balance. His knuckles turned white from strain, but his strength betrayed him all the same. He sank to one knee when he could no longer beat it, helpless against the weight pressing down on him.
His dark hair fell forward and swept the floor, hiding the pain twisting his expression. A thin trail of blood traced down from the corner of his mouth, and it glinted faintly in the moonlight.
"Your Highness—?"
"What's… the use," he murmured, his voice trembling with something heavier than pain. "Everyone… only cares about the Crown Prince. You… Just leave me alone, alright? I don't need help."
The moonlight pressed against his bowed form like a spotlight of cruel serenity. While his attendant could do nothing but obey his command.