Then It's Madarosis?
Her face was as impeccably smooth as an empty ice rink. No matter how closely I examined Lady Melanie's brow, there wasn't even a trace of eyebrows left behind.
Waxing or laser treatments couldn't achieve that level of perfection...
The area around the eyes is extremely sensitive. Just look at pro fighters—scars on the eyebrows or scalp never fully regrow hair, even after complete healing. That's why even a tiny scar on the brow stands out so much.
Mole removal there is tricky too.
People tend to think of skin as a single uniform shell covering the body, but it's more like vast continents fused together. Different regions vary in moisture, oiliness, dryness, flakiness, thickness—you name it. Pinch the skin on your eyelid and your brow; the eyelid's paper-thin, while the brow's surprisingly thick.
Academia's still debating if skin thickness correlates with moles, but thick-skinned areas like the brows often sprout freakishly deep ones or ones that protrude right over the hairs.
In those cases, surgical excision beats laser.
The problem? No more eyebrows grow back there. That's why I always warn patients seeking brow mole removal about this upfront.
But that's not the issue right now... How the hell are there zero eyebrows? Not a single strand?
Even a perfect shave leaves some stubble. Yet this doll-like lady had a doll-like blank brow.
"You have no eyebrows at all, do you?"
My cautious question made her blush; she pulled her bangs down again and nodded faintly.
"...Yes. They've been gone since birth."
"No one in your family—mother, father, or elders—has anything similar?"
"...No one. Just me."
She shook her head, and it rang true. I stood and approached her.
"May I take a closer look?"
"...Y-yes."
Her scalp hair was lush and healthy. Her lashes were thick and long, like she'd layered on mascara. Not alopecia universalis.
Hmm... Then madarosis?
Congenital syndromes like Ehlers-Danlos, ichthyosis with red scaly skin, cryptophthalmos, or ectodermal dysplasia can trigger it. Hair loss, blepharitis, or heavy makeup can too.
No family history, so likely the latter. From the naked eye, it looked congenital, as she said. I'd read case reports of kids born missing just brows, just lashes, or both—no patients in my practice, though.
"...Doctor?"
"Hm? Yes, Lady Melanie?"
I returned to my seat, jotting notes amid my thoughts, when she timidly called out.
"As I mentioned, I have my debutante in two months. It's hugely important to me."
"Your first entry into high society—naturally momentous. But what does that have to do with your eyebrows?"
She deflated at my question.
"Well... Debutantes have prescribed attire. Not everything, but the dress and hair are fixed."
Now I got it.
"I usually wear bangs, but for the debutante, I can't... like this."
"Your forehead... has to be exposed?"
She nodded quietly. Fair concern—plenty of other noble ladies would be there too.
Not just a casual mixer... Young as they are, it's where elite families gather.
I didn't know average marriage ages here, but debutantes weren't casual networking. Fresh 14-year-olds introducing themselves, makeup skills varying by house. Each family would push to make their girl shine brightest. The Windsors included.
Problem: no eyebrows.
Jeff Bezos, forever battling for world's richest, proves brows' power. Bald as an egg, but those bushy bad boys? Enviable. Mine are thick too.
Don't see the tree—see the forest.
One apple tree's worthless. An orchard of hundreds? Jackpot. Lady Melanie's one tree. Behind her? A marquis orchard buried in cash stacks!
And I'm the only one who can help our lady in this world.
Her plight stirred my altruism. Now, how systematically could I help—and extract?
"Let me explain. Brow treatments include semi-permanent ones, often called just that."
"W-wait. You mean... it's treatable?"
Her trembling voice cracked as she asked; I nodded, and tears she'd held back spilled over.
"As I said earlier, semi-permanent is basically brow tattooing. For sparse brows, bald patches, or ideal shapes."
I handed her a handkerchief and continued.
"Recovery's 3-4 weeks, but for someone like you with zero brows, it won't look natural. Plus, retouching's often needed based on skin type."
"I'll do it anyway! Even if not perfect, better than nothing!"
Hope lit her up; her calm voice rose.
"It uses fine blades and machines to wound the brow area and inject pigment. But you're only 14."
"That's fine! I can handle pain at 14!"
She stared resolutely, but I shook my head.
"Not about pain tolerance. Faces change till adulthood—bones, features shifting. Especially in growth spurts like yours. Even perfect symmetry now could look off by adulthood, making semis look unnatural."
"So... you can't do it after all?"
Pubescent noble or not, she sulked openly.
Perfect—the face I wanted.
Hope after despair hits sweeter.
"No. I recommend permanent, not semi."
"P-permanent...? You mean eyebrows forever?"
Her eyes welled again; gold-scent tingled my nose. I suppressed a grin, nodding solemnly.
"But as you know, no one else can do it. It's complex and grueling, so brow transplant costs..."
"Money's no issue! My family’s always wanted this fixed—not just for me."
Not a lowly baron or puffed-up earl—a marquis! Class tells.
"Average brow has 250 hairs per side, tied to follicles."
"Follicles...?"
"Think of them as seeds for body hair."
"Fascinating. Never thought of it that way."
No need for wonder. This wasn't biology class.
"Permanent means harvesting scalp follicle 'seeds' and transplanting to brows. Called brow transplant surgery."
"S-surgery?!"
"Non-incisional—no scalpel needed. No big worry."
First priority in this godforsaken world: demystify "surgery." She relaxed at "non-incisional," so I pressed on.
"Basically, take healthy back-of-head hairs and plant them as brows. Pricey, though—we select the finest hairs for high-skill transplant. 10 gold per follicle."
"So..."
"One brow: 2,500 gold. Both?"
"5,000 gold."
"Exactly."
Five grand—500 million won. Fellow docs might call me a thug. But she's a marquis lady. I'm just aiding noble duty. Noblesse oblige.
"Tough surgery no one else dares—worth every coin."
No average noble. Add Walter's recent 5k to this: 10k total! A tenth of my cursed 53,928 gold, 1 silver, 7 copper debt. Breath of relief.
"Great. Final process: Transplanted brows shed in 2-3 months—natural shedding."
"W-wait. They fall out? The ones we just planted?"
I hate interruptions, but she's a golden ticket. Patient smile reloaded.
"Shedding's normal. By month 4, new growth from transplants. Brows grow short anyway—natural look in 5-6 months."
"Wait! So half a year for real brows?"
Smart kid—marquis tutoring shows.
"Yes. Faster healers see results at 4-5 months. Most need six."
"But the debutante..."
Second despair dose. Elevates the gold-hope payoff.
"Demo cutting-edge tech can do natural brows in one day—but +100 gold."
"Pay it! Please!"
"Done. On my doctor's honor, prep your surgery."
Dragon egg miracle: 1 gold to 100. Good freeing that slave.
"Surgery today?"
"Afternoon's booked. Tomorrow morning?"
"Thank you! Truly!"
Tears brimmed again with thanks.
"Just doing my duty—can't ignore suffering. But tomorrow, don't forget something key."
"Tell me! I'll prep anything!"
"First, photos of the marquis, marchioness—clear brow shots. Family brow shapes as reference."
"Got it! Won't forget. Anything else?"
Oh yes. The big one.
"Our clinic's upfront. 5,100 gold total, including extra."
Farmer, freeman, noble—equality. No installments here.