ATMM 1

Chapter 1

“You have at most one year to live. There is no treatment available at the moment.”

At the physician’s indifferent voice, a curse surged up inside me.

I had gathered all the funds I needed for exile. All that remained was to leave this wretched family behind for good.

What kind of nonsense was this?

I had spent over ten years saving money just to escape that beggar-like household.

I wanted to eat delicious food to my heart’s content, make lots of friends, and experience all the joys I had never known.

I had even planned out the rest of my life—living freely and leisurely, spending the money I had painstakingly saved.

“We can’t pinpoint the exact cause, but the sensations in your body are gradually dying. Pain seems to be the first to go. Haven’t you noticed anything strange?”

The physician adjusted his round glasses as he asked.

Behind the lenses, his eyes looked terribly dry and detached.

“I’ve always been rather numb.”

I had assumed it was simply the aftereffects of poison.

I had been exposed to toxins for a long time, after all.

But I couldn’t very well say, ‘I’m practically poisoned every day, so I thought that was the reason.’

When I gave him an awkward smile, the physician checked his chart and sighed.

“It shouldn’t be something you could miss, even if you’re dull.”

Tap. Tap.

His fingers drummed against the desk, and silence filled the examination room.

To break the tension, I cleared my throat and stood up.

“I understand. I’ll be going now.”

I bowed politely and turned, but the physician called after me.

When I looked back, he was already scribbling something down.

“You should at least take some medicine.”

“You said there’s no cure. What medicine?”

“It’s better than doing nothing at all.”

He finished writing the prescription.

Valcoin, Cheche root, yellow reed fungus, mulberry bark, sorapino fruit…

They were all familiar ingredients.

They would treat the symptoms, perhaps—but they wouldn’t address the root cause.

I shook my head at the prescription he handed me.

“I’ve already tried these.”

A flicker of surprise crossed his face.

“Have you been examined elsewhere?”

“…Yes, something like that.”

I swallowed the truth—that I had examined myself.

They say even a hairdresser cannot style their own hair.

I had sensed something was wrong with my body, but I lacked certainty.

I wanted someone else to confirm it for me.

And this was the result.

“No wonder you’re so calm.”

The physician nodded, as if finally understanding.

“Still, the medicine might help, even a little.”

“It’s fine. I already have plenty at home.”

Besides, I make better medicine myself.

I didn’t bother adding that.

Instead, I placed a ruby the size of my thumbnail on the desk.

“That’s the consultation fee. Thank you.”

“Wait—!”

He called out in confusion, but I left without responding.

Cold wind slipped into my coat, sending chills down my spine.

“I should have run away sooner.”

My breath puffed white into the air.

They say regret is always too late, no matter how early.

If I’d known, I would have moved my plans forward.

Or perhaps I should never have handled poisonous herbs at all.

What if I had stopped when my hair first began turning white from working with toxins?

I shook my head, dismissing the thought.

The physician said there was no cure.

But there was one way.

It would be troublesome, but I had no choice.

“I refuse to die like this.”

Firming my resolve, I hurried back to the estate.

The Casiayan Ducal House ruled the underworld of the Sertijan Empire.

I was born its third daughter, yet I was never treated as a proper lady.

My mother had not been the duchess but a princess of a fallen kingdom, sold into the ducal house like a commodity.

With no backing whatsoever, my mother and I had lived quietly, like mice, within the castle.

Soon after I was born, the duchess’s schemes forced us out of the main estate to live in a detached villa.

Everyone mocked and ridiculed us.

But to me, it was a blessing.

It spared me from Casiayan’s inhumane education and allowed me to grow up cherished by my mother.

Had I struggled to survive in the main estate, I might have been brainwashed into becoming one of Casiayan’s monsters.

“My lady, shall I prepare your bath?”

When I returned to my room, my personal maid, Jenid, asked at once.

“Later.”

I would be going out again soon, so I dismissed her and entered my study.

Running my finger along the bookshelf, I pulled out one particular book.

Then another. And another.

When I removed five in total, the shelf rumbled and slid aside, revealing a hidden passage just wide enough for one person.

Inside lay my familiar workshop.

“Ah…”

The only place in this house where I could truly breathe.

The Duke of Casiayan knew I studied medicine, but he had no idea how advanced I was.

Even now, he constantly pressured me to create undetectable poisons.

If he learned the extent of my skill, I might be used as Casiayan’s tool until the day I died.

I picked up a yellowish potion from the cluttered worktable and downed it.

It was similar to what the physician had tried to prescribe.

‘Of course, mine includes my own ingredients.’

I was confident it was at least five times more effective.

If my mother had made it, it might have been even better.

Her homeland, the Kingdom of Yalon, had been renowned for its medicine—especially pharmacology.

She had been both a princess of that land and the top graduate of its medical academy.

A genius in medicine, once the pride of academia—

Until she came to Casiayan, where her wings were torn and her limbs bound.

Still, the knowledge in her mind remained, and she taught me everything she could.

How to identify and harvest herbs in the mountains.

How to treat patients with care and compassion.

She was my teacher in all things.

Naturally, I dreamed of becoming a physician.

Even after returning to the ducal estate following her death, I continued my studies in secret.

This workshop was the result.

Here, I created potent medicines and sold them to gather funds for exile.

My revenge against Casiayan—the house that killed my mother—was nearly complete.

“Yes. It’s only delayed a little.”

There was a cure.

A rare plant called Aferium, which grew only in the Imperial Palace gardens.

I would need to consume it regularly—for at least a year.

The problem was that only members of the imperial family could enter that garden.

‘It originally grew in the royal palace of Yalon.’

The Emperor had taken a liking to it and transplanted it to the imperial grounds.

If I hadn’t known that from my mother, I would have despaired.

Its seeds were incredibly rare. It could hardly be found anywhere else.

‘Better than searching blindly for something that may not exist…’

After some thought, I donned a black robe and packed several bottles of sleeping potion.

Just in case, I swallowed a stimulant as well. Since it was difficult for me to feel pain, I needed something to heighten my senses.

Then I left the study.

“My lady, where are you going?”

Jenid stood by the door, looking worried.

Without slowing down, I answered—

“The Imperial Palace.”

More precisely, the Crown Prince’s palace within it.

Though it was late at night, the name Casiayan was enough to gain entry into the palace grounds.

‘The Crown Prince’s palace has fewer guards.’

Confident in his martial ability, the Crown Prince kept minimal security.

With that—and my sleeping potion—I could likely reach his bedchamber.

And once I did, victory would be mine.

After all, I had heard the Crown Prince was a curious man.

My first impression of Crown Prince Yulion was this:

First—his face was dazzlingly beautiful. So much so that I could almost imagine flowers scattering around him.

Second—completely opposite that beauty…

“Are you in your right mind, my lady?”

His expression, aura, and voice were all inhumanly cold.

His detached tone and faintly mocking smile made me click my tongue inwardly.

As expected, Yulion had noticed my intrusion from the start.

He must have allowed it out of curiosity.

I greeted him boldly, not at all like an intruder.

“I greet the Light of the Empire, Your Highness the Crown Prince.”

His black hair, still damp from a bath, dripped water.

His exposed pale skin gleamed under the moonlight, almost painfully white.

“One might think this were a formal visit. You do seem sane, at least…”

He met my gaze and smirked.

The front of his loosely worn robe shifted, briefly revealing his chest before concealing it again.

I had worried he might refuse to engage at all.

But he seemed willing to converse—fortunately.

“I’m honored you’re concerned about me, Your Highness.”

I smiled sweetly.

Yulion looked faintly incredulous and reclined comfortably on the sofa, not bothering to invite me to sit.

“So then, a perfectly sane young lady of marriageable age—what brings you here at such a late hour?”

His golden eyes gleamed, half irritation, half curiosity.

They shone like pure gold.

Then his eyes curved into a smile.

“You slipped in so quietly I nearly mistook you for a rat and cut you down. Had I not seen you from afar at the imperial banquet, there might have been a tragedy.”

He was smiling. His tone was gentle.

But the meaning was chilling.

He lifted a wine glass from the table. The red liquid shimmered dangerously.

“Your Highness.”

When I called softly, he replied evenly—

“I am listening, my lady.”

Meeting his golden gaze, I revealed the reason I had come.

“Please propose to me.”