chapter 29

The scent of dried herbs and incense filled the air, mingling with the faint mustiness of aged wooden shelves. Nori's fingers brushed over glass vials and parchment-wrapped roots as he searched for what he needed. The apothecary was dimly lit, but Nori had spent enough time in such places to know how to navigate them.

The old shopkeeper, a wiry man with ink-stained fingers, watched him with an appraising look. "You've been coming here often," he said. "More than most."

"I need something strong," Nori replied without looking up. "Something that can help a girl who's on the edge of life and death."

The shopkeeper scoffed. "If it's the plague you're treating, you're wasting your time."

Nori ignored him. He wasn't interested in empty words of hopelessness. His hands found a bundle of dried ginseng, but before he could take it, another hand reached for the same item. His gaze snapped up.