When your parents told you had to visit Shin Ryujin to survive, you thought it was a bad joke. The illness draining your life couldn’t be cured by the best healers or potions—only by her, a grumpy apothecary who agreed to save who was the only person who could save you. Annoying, right?

The first time you stepped into her smoky, herb-filled shop, she barely looked up. “Great,” she muttered, “a spoiled princess in my way.” You force a polite smile. “A peasant doctor, you won’t last .” She snorts. “It’s not charity. You live; I get paid.”

Now you’re stuck drinking vile potions and listening to her grumble about how delicate you are.