A being no one should know about.

When Gadiel and the others entered Vanclift territory, they disguised themselves to avoid being recognized by the locals.

The group was led by Gadiel, accompanied by his retainers Rabe, Truuk, and Vogel, who served as guards.

Though the three retainers were always at Gadiel’s side, one of them was an unusual addition—a man named Hume, the court physician.

Hume was the same age as Gadiel and was turning eighteen this year.

His appearance was slightly younger than his actual age.

His light brown hair looked soft to the touch, and his bright-eyed look made him seem like a gentle young boy.

But once he opened his mouth, that impression shattered instantly—his sharp tongue would leave you doubting your own ears.

Saying something like that to his younger brother, Rasuel, who looked about his age? That was practically guaranteed to earn a scowl. Apparently, he hated how youthful his face was—so much so he couldn’t even stand looking at himself.

Still, his talent had been recognized early—Hume had been apprenticed to the royal healers by the age of eleven, and last year he’d officially stood on his own. A truly exceptional talent. Maybe that’s why he’d turned out so worn down—always surrounded by adults since childhood.

And above all else, Hume was a spirit mage, bound to a spirit.

“Prince Gadiel… could you please stay a little farther away?”

To top it all off, Gadiel and Hume were constantly at odds.

Gadiel twitched slightly at the words, but obeyed without protest. Not because he cared about the request—no, it was the spirit behind it that made him comply.

“Prince Hume! What kind of words are those to address the Prince?!”

"There's nothing I can do about it. My spirit's terrified of the Prince."

"...Fine, Truuk. It's true."

Knowing the truth behind the royal curse, Gadiel stood frozen. Not only were the royal family despised by spirits—no, they were actively hated, because of their ancestors’ deeds.

The very idea that he was a being whose presence could drive spirits mad through the curse’s influence had become common knowledge.

Once the court’s spirit mages learned this, they immediately developed a deep loathing for the royal family. Spirits they themselves had sworn oaths with were too precious to risk angering.

Even the royal family couldn’t afford to lose their spirit mages, so they stopped seeking them out themselves.

But now, with the Vanklyft family’s medicine causing trouble, they couldn’t just ignore it anymore.

The more the Vanklyft Family’s little spirit princess’s medicine was examined, the more it seemed like the concoction was actually made by spirits themselves.

“Do I really have to have my spirit look into whether the medicine being made by the noble lady of the ducal family is spirit-made or not? What am I supposed to do if I freeze up from fear because of you, Your Highness?”

Hume sighed heavily at his servant, clearly exasperated.

To find out what Elen’s medicine actually was, you needed someone specialized. And that someone had just been pointed out—Court Physician Hume.

“Still… this territory… it’s absolutely choked with the sick.”

Hume muttered, his voice thick with disgust. The servants stirred uneasily.

“Sending Your Highness here… what in the world is the King thinking?”

Gadiel, his hood pulled low over his face, hissed at the servant to keep quiet.

"Stop it, Vogel. Right now, I'm Gadiel."

"Ah... I'm terribly sorry."

The group, all with hoods pulled low, stood out in a way that was almost comical. Hume sighed, watching the passersby glance sideways and sidle past.

"You're already conspicuous enough. Maybe the others should take their hoods off, Gadiel?"

The servants muttered, rolling their eyes at Hume’s shrug.

Gadiel couldn’t help but sigh at their bickering.

"Unbelievable, really."

Then Hume suddenly snorted, as if amused. Gadiel and the others exchanged puzzled looks.

"The wind spirit is blowing the illness upward, purifying it from above..."

Hume stared up at the sky, lost in thought.

Gadiel and the others looked up, but the sky was utterly clear, cloudless and bright—there was nothing to see, let alone feel.

"My spirit trembles. There's a higher wind spirit here... Could the rumors actually be true...?"

The others stared, wide-eyed at Hume’s words. It was like a seal of approval—proof enough that the medicine brought by the lord’s daughter was made by spirits themselves.

"Anyway, let’s gather some info first."

Hume strolled off toward the inn, and the attendants called out, "Wait!"

＊＊＊

Hearing Hume’s words, Gadiel couldn’t hide the quiet thought that flickered in his mind.

(Elen…)

Gadiel knew Elen was a spirit.

And now, hearing Hume’s words, a strange certainty bloomed—maybe the medicine really was made by Elen.

(…I don’t want Hume to find out.)

I know it’s selfish.

But ever since then, I haven’t been able to look at Elen even once—and yet I can’t stand the thought of Hume finding out about her.

Before Hume learns of her existence, I just… couldn’t help but wish I could see Elen first.

＊＊＊

The meeting in the clinic’s conference room was going smoothly.

The idea of “priority triage” was something people had been discussing among healers—even if they didn’t know the term by name.

But reality was, there was no end to those claiming they’d arrived at the clinic first and demanding medicine.

“Everyone’s just… so stressed by their illness…”

Elen’s brows dipped into an angry frown. The others around her winced, understanding her frustration.

“I’ll take the medicine…!”

"No, Elen. We already talked about this, didn’t we?"

I almost cried at my father’s words.

Why, if I’m supposed to be saved, do I still have to be restricted?

I know they care about me the most. But I also knew this couldn’t go on like this.

If they find out I’ve made a lot of medicine, who knows where it’ll end up being smuggled from? Then, when we actually need it, there might not be enough—and lives that could’ve been saved won’t be.

And if other countries find out about me… war will inevitably come to this land. My father already told me that. If that happens, this country won’t just be sick—it’ll be flooded with dead bodies.

"I really don’t want to rank patients… at all…"

We all want to live. We all want to be helped. That feeling’s the same for everyone.

But that feeling just spills over—tears fall, one after another, from my eyes.

"Papa... could we maybe... just a little bit... increase the dosage of the medicine?"

"Elen..."

Father wrapped his arms around me and gently stroked my hair.

"Never push yourself too hard. No matter how much medicine you prepare, the amount we use is up to me....Understand?"

"...Yes."

Sniffling, I clung tightly to Father’s neck, and he hugged me back with that soft, familiar warmth.

Then, out of nowhere—Van appeared.

The healers, unfamiliar with Van, gasped and cried out in surprise.

"This one is a spirit. My apologies for the fright. Van, what’s wrong?"

The healers blinked, processing Father’s words, then nodded slowly, accepting it.

Van didn’t even glance at them. He leaned in and whispered something to Father.

I’d been clinging to Father, so I heard Van’s words—my shock was so sharp it stopped the tears mid-flow. I stared straight at Van.

“…Raffilia?”

Lovell frowned. Sauvel reacted.

“Daughter… what’s wrong?”

The air went tense in an instant.

Father gave Sauvel a single look—this wasn’t the place to speak—and turned to the healers.

“On identification emergencies, we’ll handle it later. Everyone, disperse.”

The healers exchanged glances. But Father’s word was final. They got it—no questions asked.

Once the healers had left, only Father, me, Albert, Kai, Van, and Sauvel remained. Slowly, Lovell turned to Sauvel.

“Sauvel… calm down. Listen.”

"Calming down? What do you mean, my daughter’s in trouble...!?"

"...Likely, she was mistaken for Elen and taken."

Sauvel, usually so composed, turned visibly pale and let out a sharp, shaky breath.