The Princess’s Final Wish Before Her Time Runs Out - Chapter 82

Orzo feared the Duke.

No one in the workshop found the Duke of Hespelt easy to be around but Orzo was especially bad. He was genuinely terrified of him.

Though he had never trained as a knight, Orzo could sense Rashid’s presence with uncanny precision, almost like a soldier and flee just as quickly.

To him, the Duke of Hespelt was someone to never, ever face. A terrifying figure whose mere coat hem was reason enough to run.

So when Tericia visited his private workshop and asked to see that potion, and he saw Rashid standing beside her, he started trembling like a man receiving his death sentence.

“It’s alright, Orzo. I made it to give to the Duke anyway.”

“Y-yes, of course.”

The poor alchemist kept his head down, glancing nervously at the Duke out of the corner of his eye as he scurried into the workshop. His anxious behavior could easily have been mistaken for rudeness—but he was too frightened to even consider that.

Tericia sat quietly, waiting for Orzo to return.

“There’s no avoiding it, is there?”

After a little while, she recalled something Rashid had said on the way over and murmured it aloud. He understood what she meant instantly.

“It doesn’t seem so.”

“…I thought so.”

Then she fell silent again.

Tericia sat at the table, staring off into the air, deep in thought.

What is she planning?

Rashid was frustrated. He couldn’t figure out what she was trying to do.

Ever since the threat of war became real, Tericia had changed. She was anxious. Worried. Afraid. And more than anything—she’d grown especially sensitive about him. She moved around busily, speaking to no one about it.

The people quietly watching over her would report only, “The lady has been busy,” and saw nothing unusual.

If he wanted, Rashid could find out more. But he didn’t want to dig.

Strangely, he believed—no, knew—everything she was doing was for his sake.

Maybe, just maybe, that knowledge alone made him content to wait.

I must be losing it, he thought.

He didn’t want to make her worry, and yet… he liked that she did.

He liked how her eyes followed him with concern. He liked how she thought only of him. He wanted her world, her thoughts—everything—to be filled with him.

Time passed in silence as they each remained wrapped in thought.

Finally, Orzo returned.

When Tericia gave him a reassuring nod, the hesitant alchemist placed a glass vial on the table and quickly stepped back—far enough that he wouldn’t overhear their conversation.

Tericia pushed the vial across the table toward Rashid.

“What is this?”

“I hate war.”

Her abrupt statement made his brows twitch in surprise.

“If possible, I want there to be no war. And I want you to stay by my side.”

It was what he wished for, too.

“But… if it’s something that must happen… if, in the end, you have to go…”

Her crimson-violet eyes locked on his, unwavering.

“Take this with you—and use it.”

“What is it?” Rashid asked.

Instead of answering, Tericia reached up and pulled a hairpin from her hair. The end was sharp, like a blade.

Without hesitation, she rolled up the sleeve of her dress, revealing her pale arm—and cut it.

“Tericia!”

Rashid sprang up from his seat in shock, grabbing her hand and wrenching the pin away. The chair fell behind him with a loud crash.

A thin red line appeared on her arm, and blood beaded at the cut, then began to drip.

Her gaze on him was calm. In contrast, his hand that held her wrist trembled.

“It’s alright. It’ll heal quickly.”

She patted his hand gently, trying to soothe him, then pulled her arm back. But Rashid continued to stare at her, face hard.

A nearby attendant quickly stepped forward to set the chair upright and stepped back again.

“Sit down. You’re giving me a sore neck.”

“You—”

His face was pale. He opened his mouth to speak more than once, but in the end, said nothing. He sat heavily, eyes still fixed on the blood running down her arm.

Tericia looked at him and smiled softly.

“Open the lid for me?”

Still tense, Rashid did as she asked.

The sealed bottle opened easily in his hand. Tericia set aside the hairpin and took the vial from him.

“Rashid…”

“……”

“I’ll show you something magical.”

Trying to calm his pale, stunned expression, Tericia gave a soft smile.

Then she gently poured the liquid from the vial over her bleeding cut.

The pale pink solution flowed over her wound, washing away the blood. As it touched her skin, tiny bubbles began to fizz and rise.

She poured more. This time, the bubbling grew stronger. Again, and again—until the foaming covered the cut.

Finally, Tericia pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the wound clean.

“…What is this?”

Rashid’s eyes widened, disbelief filling his face. It wasn’t a reaction she often saw from him—and somehow, that made her feel a little proud.

The slender line on her arm had already closed. Only the faintest mark remained, and even that would likely disappear with a bit more care.

Tericia smiled, satisfied.

“Well?”

“…Is it a sacred potion from the temple?”

“No.”

She shook her head.

“We made it. It’s called Panarin. Orzo developed it, and I helped.”

“Orzo…?”

Rashid glanced at the alchemist still keeping his distance.

The timid man flinched visibly the moment Rashid’s eyes landed on him. That man had made this?

“So that’s why you needed him.”

“Mm-hmm. He’s the only one who could make it.”

Tericia’s voice was gentle, warm with gratitude.

“I studied herbalism with him. I can handle most herbs now, and I’ll be working with poisonous ones soon too. Orzo is a good teacher.”

Rashid silently ran his thumb along the spot where the wound had been.

The gash made by the sharp pin had nearly disappeared. The bleeding had stopped, and only a faint line remained.

“So… you weren’t just making perfume.”

He still looked surprised.

It was hard to believe something so effective had been created by a private individual.

With healing priests becoming rarer by the day, sacred potions had become one of the temple’s most important sources of power. They couldn’t raise the dead, but their effectiveness on wounds made them essential for soldiers and knights.

That’s why the temple guarded the recipe and distribution so closely. Many herbalists, doctors, and alchemists had tried to replicate it—and all had failed.

But if Tericia had truly created something that could rival it…

Then House Hespelt no longer had to bow to the temple. If they could produce it on a larger scale, it would be more profitable than most mines or trade networks.

“So the perfumes… the oils… were they all a cover?”

“No, they were real. And necessary. That’s where my private funds come from. The merchant guild Sarah manages has been growing steadily.”

Rashid already knew her perfume business had become successful. It was true that her wealth had been quietly increasing over time.

Tericia closed her eyes briefly, as if trying not to think about something painful. When she opened them again, light caught her long lashes and made her violet eyes shine like gemstones.

“I don’t trust the imperial family. Or the temple.”

How could she?

They sent Rashid into danger, but never lifted a hand to help him. She knew it would be no different this time.

“I won’t rely on the temple. I won’t expect anything from the empire. If you go to war, I’ll prepare Panarin for you myself. I’ll stock your supplies. I’ll protect you—with my own hands, without depending on anyone else.”

Her crimson-purple eyes shimmered with quiet resolve.

Rashid couldn’t look away. He felt like he was under a spell.

“All I need is for you to come back to me safely. That’s enough.”

Her voice was soft, but steady. And it made his heart tremble.

Heat surged through him, as if his blood were boiling from deep within and rushing all the way to his head.

He couldn’t hold back the laugh that bubbled out.

He hadn’t laughed like this in a long time.

She was so beautiful—so achingly precious—that he could barely stand it.

He wanted to hold her, to kiss her like a man mad with love.

But instead, he took her hand and kissed the back of it with all the tenderness he could give.

How could a woman like her even exist?

In the dark, chaotic mess of his life, Tericia was the only light.

She was the only one who ever made him move—who ever made him want to keep going.

Only she could do that.

He couldn’t contain the emotion spilling out of him anymore.

“Let’s get married, Tericia.”

With a smile brighter than the sun, Rashid finally said it.

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