Baby Pharmacist Princess

“We put them in oil and let them get some sunlight.”

On the table with the materials were Calendula flowers, freshly picked pine needles, and dried orange flowers.

‘Orange flowers have a lot of antioxidants. They’re especially good for preventing sunburn, so it’s good to infuse them together.’

These orange flowers were originally dried and stored for royal baths, but I asked to take all of them from the storeroom.

If you infuse just calendula, the smell can be a bit off.

Using orange flowers, which are also used in perfumes, would make the ointment smell nice.

“But Princess, what are you making with these?”

“Oh, ointment! For burns and wounds. To give to Shami.”

Actually, the amount of ingredients I had couldn’t produce enough ointment for 92,824 people.

Not nearly enough.

So my goal was to make enough to demonstrate its effectiveness.

If the efficacy was proven, it would be persuasive to have the medical department produce and distribute it.

Then, they could contract calendula farms and quickly make and distribute it by magic.

‘It’s going to be tight, but if things go as planned, it’s possible within three months.’

As I watched the flowers fill each jar, I wiggled my bottom in excitement.

“Oh… I’m so touched.”

But behind me, Hanna was trembling and wiping away tears as she watched Grandpa Tombi fill the jars with flowers.

“Princess, you’re thinking so much about Shami…!”

Huh?

Are you crying?

“I’m going to dedicate my life to you, Princess!”

Well, it’s true I’m making the ointment for Shami, but not just for her.

Hanna hugged me tightly and spun me around.

I gasped in her embrace.

“How can our Princess have such a kind heart?”

“Me? Really?”

“You’re making ointment just for a maid… Oh, I’m going to cry…!”

“No, don’t cry.”

I was flustered and flailed my small hands.

Then I stood on tiptoes to wipe Hanna’s eyes.

“Shh! Grown-ups shouldn’t cry.”

“Yes, you’re right. Our Princess is so smart.”

Despite her words, Hanna’s eyes were still red.

After a moment’s thought, I took a flower from the basket and tucked it behind Hanna’s ear.

And another one behind my own ear.

“Grandpa Tombi, I’ll give you a flower too.”

“Thank you.”

Grandpa Tombi smiled broadly as he bent down.

I first tucked a yellow calendula behind his ear, then, noticing his white, sparse beard, I added another flower there.

“It suits you well!”

“Haha, my beard looks cute now!”

“Really?”

As the cheerful atmosphere settled, Madam Maya approached, pushing a cart full of oil.

I ran over to her with a flower in hand.

“Madam, here’s one for you too.”

“For me? Oh, I’m delighted.”

“You’re someone I like, so I’m giving you a flower.”

“Oh my… I’m just a humble cook.”

Madam Maya looked moved as she accepted the flower and tucked it behind her ear.

Now everyone’s ear had a bright yellow flower, glittering like little suns.

“You all look like the sun!”

I exclaimed with a radiant smile.

Grandpa Tombi chuckled, and Madam Maya and Hanna smiled warmly.

We gathered around and began soaking the pine needles, calendula, and orange flowers in oil. With four of us working, it was done in no time.

“Let it get some shade and some sun. Then it’ll be medicine.”

“It’s fascinating. Can’t you use aging magic for this?”

Hanna asked, and I tilted my head.

Aging and infusing are different.

The magic was primarily used for fermenting bread dough quickly.

When there’s a large party at the palace, they need to bake a massive amount of bread, and it would be impractical to wait for all of it to ferment.

Some batches would ferment well, and some wouldn’t.

With magic, thousands of dough pieces could ferment uniformly in an instant.

‘But infusing is more like…’

Like brewing tea, you let the plant material steep in oil for a long time.

It’s a different concept from aging.

“I don’t think so. Maybe we can try with one jar.”

“Ah, if it goes wrong, it could be a disaster.”

“Yeah, just one jar.”

I held up one finger, and Hanna nodded, picking the least pretty jar.

Meanwhile, Madam Maya stretched her back and smiled as she looked at the glass jars filled with flowers.

“This scene reminds me of my grandmother.”

“Your grandmother?”

“It was before making medicine at home was banned.”

My ears perked up, and I tugged at her apron.

“Tell me more.”

“Before it was forbidden for individuals to make medicine?”

“Uh-huh. I’m curious.”

“Then I’ll make you a flower crown with these remaining flowers while I tell you the story.”

“I’d love that!”

The breeze was gentle, and the sunlight was warm.

Madam Maya sat me on the table and began to tell a story from long ago.

“Nowadays, it’s not allowed, but back then, every household had a grandmother’s recipe for making medicine. They made remedies with common flowers and herbs.”

“Like this?”

“Yes. But starting from my mother’s time, the Haphneous Temple gained power and suddenly banned it. They claimed making medicine at home was witchcraft!”

Establishing official pharmacies and standardizing medical licenses is a good thing if done correctly.

But it seems the result was complete medical monopoly.

‘And branding it as witchcraft…’

That’s witch-hunting.

“Before that, people made ointments from gotu kola and used calendula. My grandmother even sold her medicine. It was very effective and popular.”

Madam Maya’s eyes were dreamy, as if lost in old memories.

Yet her wrinkled hands moved deftly, making a calendula flower crown.

“Now, try it on.”

“How did you make it?”

“I’ll show you. You weave the flower stems together like this…”

I followed Madam Maya’s instructions, moving my hands carefully.

I planned to give the finished flower crown to the Prince.

So please, hurry up and say you’ll take me as your daughter!

* * *

“Seems like she hasn’t noticed yet, Your Highness.”

“Throwing a surprise party is quite challenging. It requires significant attentiveness.”

At that moment, along the “First Path of Spring” connected to the rear garden, many people were bustling about.

Pink ribbons were tied to every branch, and sparkling diamond-made sun catchers were hung.

On a white marble table moved by magic, decorations made from flowering plum branches and silver candlesticks were placed.

The floor was covered with a white velvet carpet, making a beautiful scene with falling petals.

Vikal was personally overseeing and controlling everything, feeling anxious.

He had created a Reflection Room with magic to prevent the noise from leaking out.

No matter what conversations took place here, nothing would reach the garden.

Of course, the people inside couldn’t be seen from outside either.

But still, Vikal was a bit uneasy.

After all, she could see his familiar, Myul.

Who knows, she might even see through the Reflection Room.

The essence of a surprise party is that the guest of honor shouldn’t know about it.

How much effort had gone into keeping this secret until today?

“Hanna will handle it well, Your Highness.”

Sophia was checking the tablecloth’s alignment and setting the forks and plates.

Finally, the preparations were complete.

Vikal looked up at the dry trees, a remnant of autumn, and lightly snapped his fingers.

Snap.

A simple sound, but the change was astonishing.

The tree roots made a cracking sound as they moved vigorously. Buds on the branches burst open, filling the air with the delicate scent of plums.

Rustle.

As flowers bloomed on the branches above people’s heads, smiles spread across their faces.

It was autumn, but with powerful seasonal magic, they were bringing back spring.

Such a feat, performed without incantations or magic circles, could only be done by Prince Vikal, other than the Emperor.

“Oh, you’ve already brought the flowers into bloom?”

“The fragrance reaches all the way to the palace, Father.”

At that moment, Idsys and Gergys arrived at the party location through teleportation magic.

In white formal attire, they had pinned red plum branches to their chests like boutonnieres.

This symbolized their official welcome to Cherishe as their sister, which pleased Vikal, who made the flowers on their branches bloom as well.

“It’s time for the guest of honor to make her entrance.”

Next to the dining table, a round table piled with gifts formed a small mountain.

These were gifts sent by nobles who had heard about Cherishe’s adoption, along with small contributions from the staff of White Night Palace.

A total of 2,144 gifts, all for Cherishe.

Such a number was possible because many wanted to curry favor with Vikal, who had broken out of his seclusion.

Usually, Vikal would refuse sycophantic gifts, but this time he accepted them.

The sheer number of gifts was meant to bolster Cherishe’s confidence.

“But Father, it seems the number of gifts is lower than expected.”

“What, not even 3,000? Good thing we prepared 50 each ourselves.”