Reborn, Its Time To Save My Family And.. My Enemy!
Chapter 183: Not Replacable.

Chapter 183: Not Replacable.

It had been late spring, just like now. She’d been younger then—barely sixteen—her hands clumsy, fingers stained green as she sat in the back garden of her mother’s house, sorting through herbs beneath a crooked old tree. The sunlight had dappled across the stone path, the wind carried the hum of bees and her mother’s humming from inside the cottage.

She’d been proud that day. Her mixtures were improving, and her tinctures no longer turned cloudy. She remembered lifting a perfect cluster of calendula petals and smiling to herself.

"You shouldn’t let people see you do that," a voice had warned from behind.

She’d turned, startled. It was Lord Regan, one of her father’s allies—or so she had thought at the time. His face was unreadable, eyes flicking to her stained hands and the little vials lined up beside her.

"You’re too good at it," he said, tone too casual. "Men don’t like women who know too much. Especially not about blood and sickness and what grows in the dark."

Olivia had frowned. "But I’m helping people."

He crouched, plucked a sprig of thyme from her basket, twirling it between his fingers. "Yes, but they would not remember your help. They would remember the power behind it and they would covet it. They would come for you, Olivia. You must hide it. Your pity would burn you." His eyes were so dark and his voice was so cold that it had left her trembling until her mother noticed and pulled her behind.

The man had smiled and left as if was just sharing an idle chat. But her mother’s eyes told her something was wrong.

Since then, they had never let her touch those herbs. Even Oriana refused to help. She had been worried but Oriana had been happy.

"I should go to pirates and socialize to become a good wife to a higher noble. I do not need to dab my hands clearing the leaves." she had said casually. But Olivia kept staring at her parents’ scared faces.

One year later, they died.

She’d felt the chill of that warning for years afterward, feeling the burn of fire on her skin. Even when she’d buried her knowledge in darkness, they were not spared. Was it really because of her?

Her fingers clenched the edge of the table now, her breath shallow as the past washed over her in waves.

"Are you alright?" Cyan asked, voice gentle but also knowing. As if he knew he had made her uneasy. He was crouched again, looking up at her with concern.

She blinked once. Then again.

The present rushed back in. Sunlight through stained glass. Herb-scented air. cyan’s eyes searching hers.

"I’m fine," she lied. "You are too close to me." he took a step back and looked away.

"I was just concerned about my lady, please forgive me."

But the echo of Regan’s warning still pulsed inside her.They burn her before she becomes a threat.

And this time, she knew—they wouldn’t wait until it was too late.

"You can leave. We will continue tomorrow."

—--

In the royal palace,

The air in the royal court was thick with coldness as William stared at Edward with hatred.

"You could not control a woman!" he sneered as he slammed his first on the table.

The messenger arrived just past dusk, yet William did not refuse the meeting. The moment he was announced, the heavy doors of the throne hall opened with a groan, revealing the gilded chamber beyond.

William leaned back in his high seat, fingers tapping the armrest with slow deliberation. Beside him stood Lord Commander Varnes, stoic as ever, and at the foot of the dais the physician was making a connotation to apply it on his majesty’s wound where a shard of glass pierced his skin when he was fuming.

The messenger knelt. "Your Majesty, I bring word from the manor."

A nod from the king. "Speak."

"The trade alliance with the eastern envoy has been sealed," the man said but his face did not hold any excitement but dread, "but it was not a deal that belonged to the empire. The duke had not sealted it but through Lady Olivia. The envoy requested she personally oversee the creation of the medicine used to treat the plague spreading in the eastern country. She had agreed. They consider the matter settled."

Silence followed it. Only a few knew that Olivia had the knowledge of a physician and herbalist.

King William’s brows rose faintly. "They only wanted medicine in exchange? Why did they waste so much time roaming around the empire markets and eating all kinds of cuisines as if they were making a hard decision! Preposterous!"

But then he leaned on his seat with ease. "But that is good, if they only wanted some medicines as trade, we do not need Olivia for it. I am sure Elric could make it too. Right?" his eyes fell on the royal physician.

The man was stiff at his place. If it had been anyone else, he would have nodded confidently already. But it was Olivia.

Elric shifted suddenly, stiff-backed and indignant. "Your Majesty," he began, tone clipped, "this is the same woman who refused to share her complete formulation for the incense I asked to study. The mixture she used to cleanse the air during the last time she gifted it to you, it worked better than anything we’ve ever seen. I tried to replicate it. I followed every step. But it never worked the same. Never smelled the same. She’s hiding something."

"She had made them in front of me and I am sure the effect was the same then. Could it be that you had failed to make one yourself?" the king replied mildly, though his gaze was sharp.

"I am your physician," Elric hissed, forgetting decorum. "If she can produce a cure when our best minds cannot. then we should be asking how. Not celebrating her cleverness."

The king stood slowly, descending the steps of the dais with the quiet grace of a predator.

"You think she’s dangerous?"

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