Chapter 146

“We’ve found a way to poison him.”

The sudden statement from the informant left the Marquis of Tipion momentarily confused. First, because his fatigue had peaked after staying on edge for days; and second, because all he had heard throughout the castle investigation was that “the security is too tight.”

But soon, malicious delight filled his chest. Finally! No matter how monstrous these northern folks were, there had to be at least one opening.

The informant waited in silence while the marquis trembled and chuckled. Once he slowly stopped laughing, they finally spoke.

“There are so few servants here that everyone handles their own duties from start to finish. There’s no opportunity for a stranger to intercept food or supplies to poison them. But things are different when serving guests.”

You can’t possibly serve guests one by one just because only one person typically delivers the dishes. Naturally, others assist during formal meals, which inevitably leads to gaps.

The informant had spent days observing the northerners’ pride, especially their determination not to be looked down upon by ‘southerners.’ Having provided such reasoning, the marquis’s face grew tense.

“So, you’re saying… wait until he serves me and slip it i-in then?”

If they waited for Cledwyn Maindulante to host a banquet just for him, they’d grow old and die in this castle. That bastard acted as if no guests even existed here.

The informant shook their head.

“There’s no need to wait. It seems a banquet is scheduled for tonight.”

“B-Banquet? W-Who’s c-coming? It won’t be for us, surely.”

“We haven’t confirmed exactly, but does it really matter?”

“Right, the im-important part is just that he eats the poison… kuhuhu.”

The marquis chuckled ominously, his eyes gleaming strangely.

“Ah, let’s s-send another dose too, just in case. Or r-rather, let’s do this in s-sequence. Start with the easier one.”

That recent visit from Nerys Truydd had been the last straw. Her cold, dismissive demeanor made it seem like Hudeis Tipion was already dead and not worth sparing a glance.

‘Wish me misfortune, will you?’

How dare she. The marquis absentmindedly stroked his emerald ring, then cackled for a while before turning serious and facing the informant.

“Tonight, find a moment to slip what’s in this into Nerys Truydd’s dish.”

He finally felt like his mind was clear. He never should’ve trusted a spy sent by another family. Especially not one who posed a threat to the Tipion family’s secrets.

If that girl refused to act in the name of the alliance, she could be disposed of. Wouldn’t it be even better if the Elandria Estate lost its influence? Let that wretched grandson of his lose his mind over her.

When that time came, even if the Marquis of Tipion devoured this land whole, who would know?

❖ ❖ ❖

As expected, Nerys was once again impressed by how flawlessly the White Swan Castle handled risk management. Every resident consumed only thoroughly inspected food, examined multiple times from start to finish.

The imperial palace, of course, had inspections too. Even the respected Bistor Empire was not immune to dissent. But compared to the system here, the palace’s inspections seemed sloppy.

Nerys was certain that the Marquis of Tipion had no way to harm Cledwyn anymore—especially not through poison. No matter how hard he tried, poison was meaningless without access.

Cledwyn didn’t leave anything he would eat or wear unattended. The people in the castle were fiercely loyal. Especially Talfrin—she had no doubt he would monitor Cledwyn’s meals with paranoid precision.

That also meant there was comparatively less scrutiny on her own food. Not because the people of the White Swan Castle were careless, but because it was logical. Everyone knew the marquis had previously considered Nerys an ally.

So, the marquis would target her. Especially after how sharply she had provoked him last time.

Just like when he had his own daughter killed for disobeying him.

Nerys wasn’t scared. If anything, she was grateful the other side might offer an opportunity to gather evidence first.

But “comparatively” less scrutiny didn’t mean the marquis would have many chances to poison her. Everything Nerys touched was also under strict watch.

Besides… it would be troublesome if she really died before anyone could react.

‘Even a cornered rat bites the cat.’

She would have to set up one situation. Just one battlefield where she had complete control.

And so, when she came to see Cledwyn, he spoke first.

“How’s your evening looking?”

It was as if he’d read her mind. Nerys raised an eyebrow and nodded.

“Fine. Just the two of us?”

“However you want. You can invite guests if you’d like.”

“I want to invite the marquis and Lord Adrian. Is that okay? It’s probably too late to prepare a full course meal, though.”

“No, dinner’s already been prepared.”

“Then why ask me?”

“I made preparations, but if you’d prefer it just be us, we could do that. That’d be my choice.”

Nerys chuckled without realizing it. Her body relaxed. She hadn’t even realized how tense she’d been.

He truly understood.

At least, he understood as much as he needed to.

Her eyes sparkled as she spoke.

“Cledwyn.”

Since becoming an adult, Nerys had rarely spoken his name. When referring to him, it was always “Your Grace” or “you.”

Hearing her speak his name again after so long made Cledwyn smile enchantingly. Watching him, Nerys spoke clearly.

“I will never let those who’ve harmed you go unpunished.”

“I know. That’s the greatest blessing of my life.”

Ever since they reconciled that winter, Cledwyn had been saying things like that—things that left her at a loss for how to respond. So much so that Nerys sometimes forgot what she had originally meant to say.

But not this time.

“Trust me.”

His expression shifted oddly. There was a strange solemnity in her voice.

Yet he didn’t think there was any reason for her to sound so grave. He knew roughly what she was planning—and he could help make it even more perfect.

There was nothing to worry about. Thinking so, he smiled gently.

“I trust you.”

❖ ❖ ❖

The marquis had been surprised by the sudden invitation from his previously dismissive grandson, but on second thought, it was a golden opportunity. Who knew when the next chance would come?

‘The more people attend the banquet, the more chaotic it will be. That makes poisoning easier.’

So he went to the hall. To avoid suspicion over the missing emerald ring, he wore several other rings studded with large gemstones.

At the table sat the duke, the advisor, Adrian, and a few others. Several lords from the domain with high ranks.

A servant from Maindulante pulled out the marquis’s chair. Adrian, who was already seated, greeted him mockingly.

“Impressive, Marquis. Tardy for a meal with your superiors. Your legs giving out in old age?”

‘Superiors’? Technically, only Cledwyn outranked the marquis here. Adrian held no legal superiority.

The marquis’s face stiffened, and Cledwyn spoke curtly.

“One guest hasn’t arrived yet, but the rest are present. Serve the food.”

Indeed, one seat was empty. Everyone assumed one of the minor lords was late. No one needed to wait for someone of that status, so the servers moved at once.

Warm soup was served. The marquis glanced at Nerys, seated diagonally across from Cledwyn. Her face was especially irritating tonight.

Even if she drank the poison now, she wouldn’t die for a few days. There would be no way to trace it back to him. He trusted the secret family poison passed down for generations.

Once ingested, it caused death within 72 hours. Its finest feature: undetectable as a toxin.

Even right under the duke’s nose, he could kill the woman he fancied and escape. Unless one possessed divine powers of the highest order, the poison left no trace.

And everyone knew Maindulante had no such priests.

Nerys raised the silver spoon. The marquis’s heart pounded with wicked anticipation. He tried not to stare at her hand, but it was impossible.

He’d ordered the informant to target the soup. Even if someone claimed illness and skipped other courses, no one avoided soup at a banquet… nothing could go wrong.

Slowly, the spoon moved toward the soup. ‘Gulp’. The marquis swallowed.

Then—

‘Knock knock.’

Astonishingly, right at that moment, someone knocked.

Nerys lowered her spoon. She had no idea who the final guest was either. Who would knock instead of entering quietly?

All eyes turned toward the door. Slowly, it opened.

A young man entered, wearing white priest robes and a kind smile. His curly hair was a vivid pink. The servant who guided him showed no surprise upon seeing the room.

“Thank you for the escort.”

Even to a servant, his pleasant voice conveyed sincerity. He was the picture of a proper priest. Nerys’s eyes widened in recognition.

Cledwyn addressed him flatly.

“You’re late.”

“My apologies, Your Grace. On the way, I saw a family injured in an accident. As one of His faithful, I believed helping His beloved children took precedence, even if it meant delaying Your Grace.”

He explained humbly and smiled gently. Then he confidently walked toward Cledwyn’s side.

The marquis’s eyes trembled. Pink hair, that golden-fringed robe… he had heard of him. In recent years, a rising star had made waves with unbelievable speed and became a high-ranking priest despite his age…

“Fayel.”

Adrian muttered with amused interest.

Ren Fayel.

The young man soon to be appointed the youngest cardinal.