RESULTS came a month later. I was certain I’d failed the practical portion, but when I anxiously opened the notice, I saw I’d passed. Needless to say, I jumped up with joy. The last portion was the interview. I wasn’t confident in how I would portray myself, but I wanted to do my best to act properly—put all my effort into faking it—and pass the last step.
Social season started in December and ended in August at the royal capital; it was thus a bit quieter when I returned with my mother to tackle the final portion of the entrance exam. Mother was busy socializing as usual. She met with acquaintances and friends and even tried to sell white birch syrup—a Lawlife specialty—to a merchant. She also tried to find a guardian if I got into school and worked hard behind the scenes to make sure I’d be set. This time, however, it was just the interview phase. I memorized a couple of answers for any questions and possible curveballs, but there was no need for me to study. I left my study materials back at home.
I spent my time lazing around, but even that got old. Bored out of my mind, I decided to visit the pharmacy that sold my potions. I’d never visited it before, and there’d be no harm in going out for a bit. If I had a lady-in-waiting or a maid by my side, they might’ve scolded and stopped me, but I came to the capital with only my mother. With no one by my side, I was allowed to come and go as I pleased, and I left the hotel with no issue.
I knew the pharmacy was on the central street where nobles had easy access to it. The little sign had a royal warrant, proof that the store served the royal family, and it fluttered in the breeze. The interior wasn’t very spacious, and all its items were displayed in glass cases. The candy with healing effects, a new product that I gave the merchant, was also on display behind the glass, shining like little jewels. They were lined up elegantly.
The potions I had just sold to the merchant were already sold out. I stared at the products when the shopkeeper noticed me.
“Young lady, that potion is made in a remote, snowy region,” he said. “It’ll be a while before it restocks.” He gestured to a different potion with similar effects. “This one’s cheaper and works well, too.”
“Thank you,” I said. I told him I wasn’t here to buy, and he looked at me curiously until I revealed my identity. “I’m actually the creator of the medicine from that snowy region. I was curious to see how my products were being sold, so I thought I’d drop by. I didn’t mean to intrude. I’m sorry…”
“What?! Then you’re the Misha von Ritual?!” the shopkeeper cried.
“That’s me.”
It seemed he had assumed I was a seasoned apothecary in their twilight years.
“I didn’t think you were such a young lady,” he admitted.
A different merchant frequented Lawlife and acted as the middleman, so the pharmacy barely knew me.
“I truly cannot hide my surprise,” the shopkeeper said. “Are you here for your social debut, perhaps?”
“No, I’m here for an entrance exam at a magic school,” I explained. When I told him I’d be unable to provide potions for a while if I was accepted, he panicked.
“N-No, that’d be quite the predicament for me!” he cried. “I’ve got a frequent customer—a wealthy one at that—who claims that only your potion works!”
Well, that rings a bell… The handsome young man surrounded by squirrels like a fairy-tale princess certainly comes to mind. His outfit had looked rather expensive, implying that he came from a wealthy household.
“Hm…” I muttered.
I’d perused the school regulations for Vizer. Part-time jobs were allowed, provided that we received permission, but students who entered with a scholarship weren’t allowed to work at all. They wanted such students to focus solely on school, meaning that I wouldn’t be able to sell any potions if I got in.
“It’s odd that this person only responds well to my potions,” I said.
“My client apparently looked into it before,” he said. “It’s a simple matter of compatibility. Your mana is compatible with my client’s body, is all.”
“So, it’s less about the effect of my potion and more about mana compatibility,” I mused.
Potions were made from mana and magic. In other words, its effects varied slightly based on whoever made it; if the user didn’t respond well to the potion’s mana, the effects of the medicine could easily be halved. Potions were incredibly effective, but the downside was that compatibility mattered. I couldn’t turn the other way, especially since I had a pretty good idea who this client was, but I wasn’t keen on breaking school rules, either.
“Er, well…” I muttered. “This is a difficult issue, but I’ll think about it if I get into the school.”
The best I could do was stall. I left the pharmacy with an awkward smile. The young man’s potion issue is more serious than I thought… I told the pharmacy owner to keep quiet about me, just in case, and it seems he’ll be good on his word. A few have asked him about me before, but he didn’t reveal who I was.
In any case, if I do get accepted, how do I solve this? I plodded along the street, deep in thought, when I realized I’d ended up downtown. I gasped; I was a prime target for robbery since I was in a nice dress. When I turned to leave, I heard voices in the distance.
“Is he really the crown prince?”
“Look at his golden hair and his outfit! There’s no doubt about it!”
That was a dangerous conversation in the alleyway. I snuck a peek and saw two middle-aged men and a young man or boy—I couldn’t tell which—sitting as he leaned limply against the wall. No one else was around. Only a few tumbleweeds were rolling around, like this was some kind of cowboy movie. Clearly, this was a kidnapping, and if their words were true, it involved the crown prince, no less. I couldn’t let this slide. But it’d take at least ten minutes to get to the knights on Main Street. That was more than enough time for harm to befall the prince.