Chapter 48

"Princess!"

Lauv and Brin let out a cry. Attil pulled Lirika to his chest, covering her face, and growled.

"Everyone, back! Bran, call the royal physician. Bring emergency medicine."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Bran moved quickly. Attil stroked Lirika's back and took out a handkerchief.

"It's okay. It'll be okay. You don't need to force a cough, but you don't need to stop it either. Breathe—"

Lirika was startled by Attil's response but soon felt her body relax. Clutching his clothes, she panted.

Attil was flustered not because Lirika had lost a tooth from being hit by him, but because of the blood and other situations. He was a royal trained from birth and had faced threats of poisoning many times.

He was used to it.

And though he hated being so familiar with it, his body reacted out of habit.

Each time she coughed into the handkerchief, her small body trembled violently. Attil gritted his teeth.

'Poison? Where? When?'

"Touch nothing of the remaining food. Brin Sol, record the places you've been, the food you've eaten, and the people you've seen."

Bran then brought a cup full of liquid. Attil said,

"Lirika, it'll be hard, but you need to drink all of this. Can you do it?"

Lirika nodded, coughing slightly. Her mouth was full of the taste of blood. When Attil handed her the cup, she drank the slippery, foul-tasting liquid all at once.

After drinking, her stomach churned. Bran brought a bucket.

"Throw it all up."

Attil held Lirika's hair. Unable to hold back, Lirika vomited everything she had drunk.

"Good job."

The itching in her throat was much less than before. Attil held her and buried her face in his shoulder.

In his arms, Lirika coughed a few more times on his shoulder.

"Dirty... dirty..."

As she spoke, Lirika was startled. Her voice sounded like a frog's.

"I have a lot of clothes."

Attil replied curtly to her comment about dirtying his clothes. Soon, the royal physician arrived.

When Attil laid her on the bed, the physician examined her mouth, eyes, and took her pulse.

"Your throat, stomach, and mucous membranes are damaged. Fortunately, there doesn't seem to be any poison that has penetrated your body. Still, you need to rest until your internal injuries heal."

The physician explained to Lirika and bowed to Attil.

"Fortunately, the emergency treatment was quick, so the poison didn't spread to your stomach."

Attil frowned and said nothing. To hide his trembling hands, he clenched his fists.

A moment later, Altears burst in, nearly breaking the door.

"Your Majesty."

The attendants, startled, knelt down, but Altears ignored them and approached Lirika.

'Her pupils... they look like flames.'

Her pupils, which should have been black, glowed with a red light as if a fire was burning inside.

"Her condition?"

"She has internal injuries, but her organs are not severely damaged by the poison."

Altears gritted his teeth.

I will protect you.

He had made that promise just a few days ago.

And yet, how dare they?

Pushing his rising anger deeper, deeper, and more fiercely, Altears turned his gaze.

"You?"

Attil shook his head.

"I'm fine."

"Good."

His hand gently stroked Attil's head. Altears looked at Brin and Lauv.

"Let's hear the story, then."

* * *

The capital mansion of the Barat Duke was larger and more splendid than any other mansion.

It was so grand that visitors often mistook it for the royal palace.

If not for the elaborate floral crests carved on the walls, one might think it was the royal palace.

The Barat mansion was always bustling with people, just like the royal palace. People with different thoughts from the emperor always filled the Barat mansion.

Fjord Barat crossed the mansion, receiving greetings. Inside this mansion, the Barat family was as good as royalty.

With an elegant smile, he passed by them, acknowledging their greetings.

Like a flower with roots buried deep in the soil, absorbing unknown nutrients, the basement of this mansion was very deep, and only Barat knew what was inside.

Seeing those who only admired the magnificent mansion above ground, Fjord could only sneer.

People gathered in groups, waiting for the Duke of Barat to appear, and they all spoke ill of Takar.

Then, a new arrival, upon meeting someone he knew, raised his voice.

"That wretch drank poison and collapsed!"

"Really?"

"Yes!"

Everyone's attention turned to him, and he became smug.

'Wretch' referred to Lirika.

Everyone wondered how they could call her a princess and thought the common-born prince was better.

So in the Barat mansion, 'common-born' referred to the prince, and 'wretch' referred to the princess. Fjord, who was about to go up to his room, stopped in his tracks.

His hand on the railing tightened. He wanted to rush to the palace immediately.

But then what?

As a Barat, he wouldn't be able to see a single strand of her hair.

He took a deep breath and turned around. He approached the man who was excitedly talking.

"Is that news true?"

When Fjord spoke, people backed away.

"Oh, Young Master."

"I apologize for bringing such news to your ears, Young Master."

They vied to flatter him. Fjord raised his hand to stop them and smiled.

"So? What is her condition?"

The man said awkwardly,

"I'm not sure, but from the atmosphere, it doesn't seem like she's dead."

Fjord was silent. The surroundings became even noisier.

"Ah, that wretch is quite resilient."

"Maybe because she comes from a poor background, she can swallow anything."

As if lost in thought, Fjord's eyes drew everyone's attention.

"Who could it be?"

"Probably a commoner. They must be in a hurry."

"Given how much she is favored, they might have thought the wretch would ascend to the throne before them."

"Indeed, she is quite violent and hasty."

Despite knowing it was absurd, they all laughed in unison.

"Ah, it could be Sandar. The south has been noisy lately. Who could resist snake venom?"

"Indeed. No matter who it was, it must be frustrating to fail and not kill her."

After sighing and laughing, they sneered.

"I hope the emperor doesn't pin the blame on us."

"Unlikely. It's annoying that he only targets us, who are easy to bully."

"Who is Barat? A family with a long and noble lineage, more pure than any commoner. It's unbearable to always be ignored."

"Agreed. Don't you think so, Young Duke?"

Fjord said with an unwavering expression,

"Still, Barat is Barat."

Everyone nodded in admiration.

"Yes, Barat is Barat."

"No matter what they say."

"Haha, just like the Young Duke."

Listening to their empty words, Fjord tried not to clench his fists. Sweat gathered in his palms.

—Don't break.

He remembered the words Lirika had said to him. He wanted to return them to her.

"Master, His Grace the Duke is calling for you."

At that moment, a servant came and said in a low voice. Everyone reluctantly let Fjord go.

Following the servant, Fjord tried to clear his mind, which was becoming increasingly complicated. Lirika had drunk poison.

Poison.

Who? Why?

The Duke of Barat's office was incredibly luxurious. The heavy door, designed for soundproofing, opened and closed silently.

The office was quiet.

The Duke of Barat's office was one of the quietest places in the world.

Fjord thought as he approached the large desk in the office.

A new medicine was placed on the desk.

From right to left, in order.

It was something he always did.

'Why now? Or is it fortunate that it's now?'

The Duke of Barat stood with his back to him, looking out the window.

"Your Grace, have you heard the news? Princess Lirika—"

The Duke of Barat raised his hand to stop him. The Duke's face, turned towards him, was obscured by the backlight.

He pointed to the medicine without a word. Fjord sat down and took the medicine in order.

Watching him, the Duke of Barat said,

"Don't have useless thoughts."

She slowly walked to the opposite side.

"Everything you have now was obtained through the blood and suffering of your ancestors. You know how many people suffered and died to achieve this. After so much time, we finally see the first fruit."

The effects of the medicine began to spread, making his mind momentarily hazy. A gloved finger lifted his chin.

"Fjord, my first masterpiece."

His vision distorted. Blood rushed, and a buzzing sound filled his ears.

His body began to tremble, anticipating the pain to come.

"I don't know how happy I was to find you among so many failures. Don't ruin my pride."

Fjord smiled weakly. He wanted to laugh, but he wasn't sure if he did.

Once, I wanted to be your proud son, a good child.

I tried hard to be recognized.

Until I realized I was just your creation.

'I can never be your child forever