The Double ( or More ?) Life of The Fake Heiress

Before Curtis could get a word out, Nikolai approached from the side, his voice tinged with an undercurrent of excitement. “Show me that prescription again, will you?”

While Mirabella had been jotting down the list of ingredients, Nikolai had instinctively moved closer to peer over her shoulder, absorbing each item she listed. Every ingredient she penned down sent a jolt of shock through him, and by the time she had finished, his mind was blown to smithereens. It took him a moment to come back to his senses, and then he couldn’t wait to double–check the prescription.

Wyatt glanced at Nikolai, whose mood had swung from gloomy to positively electric, and without hesitation, Wyatt passed the prescription back to him.

Nikolai scrutinized the list of ingredients once more, and only after a thorough examination did he finally confirm that the recipe was indeed a long–lost ancient remedy. Trembling, he handed the piece of paper back to Wyatt.

“Nikolai?” Curtis called out, noticing that Nikolai’s hands were shaking rather severely.

Nikolai looked up at Curtis. “The prescription is sound.” He spared the technicalities, knowing they were beyond the others.

At that, disbelief painted Curtis‘ face, “Are you telling me this can treat James?”

“It might not cure him completely, but it should stop his condition from deteriorating further.” Nikolai explained slowly, pausing to glance at Mirabella with a hint of admiration. “The younger generation really does surpass the older one. Mirabella’s medical knowledge might just exceed my own.”

He remembered how he had once considered taking the young girl as his apprentice and now felt quite embarrassed.

Hearing this, Wyatt burst out, “I’ll go get the ingredients right now.” He clutched the prescription and hurried towards the exit of the villa.

Nikolai made his way over to Mirabella. Text © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

Curtis, who remained where he was, had a conflicted expression. He instinctively looked toward Mirabella, reflecting on his earlier behavior and his prejudices against her. Before even meeting her in person, he believed she wasn’t someone fit for polite society and even blamed her for the relapse of his master’s old ailment. Suddenly, his cheeks felt hot with shame.

Nikolai took a seat on the sofa across from Mirabella, and noticing the extinguished Incense of Calm nearby, he asked, puzzled, “Why can’t we burn this incense?”

Her expression was indifferent as she responded, “The incense contains musk, which only exacerbates the turmoil in his blood and energy.” After a brief pause, she glanced at James. “Hence the coughing up of blood.”

Curtis, who had just approached, overheard this and thought about his previous attitude, his

face reddening once again.

“I never considered that,” Nikolai admitted with a wry smile. “It’s fortunate you arrived when you did, or I might have made a grave mistake.” He had been the one to instruct the lighting of the

incense.

“It’s no trouble. The problem isn’t severe,” Mirabella replied nonchalantly, waving a hand dismissively. She then turned to James with a raised eyebrow, “You didn’t take the medicine I gave you last time, did you?” Her question sounded rhetorical, laced with certainty.

James coughed again, the sickly pallor of his face lending him a fragile beauty. Once he caught his breath, he murmured, “Hmm?” The next second, he remembered the medicine she’d given him after dropping her off at the airport.

“I forgot,” he admitted.

Mirabella’s smile held a trace of amusement, so that’s why very time she saw him, he seemed to be getting worse.

Uncomfortable under her gaze, James turned to Curtis and commanded, “Go to the drawer of my bedside table. There’s a ceramic jar in there.”

Curtis nodded respectfully and dashed upstairs, moving as swiftly as his legs could carry him.