Chapter 179

Aidalia greeted Nerys with excessive politeness.

“Hello, Nerys. It’s been a while.”

“I didn’t know you were here, Aidalia.”

Nerys responded curtly. Aidalia’s expression stiffened slightly.

‘Is this kind of arrogance what men find attractive?’

Even after transferring to the theology department, Aidalia hadn’t been completely cut off from news about Nerys. Every time she heard that Nellusion was still treating Nerys kindly, she could never quite understand it.

And now she was standing on the verge of an utterly unfitting marriage?

But even so, she was the one who had come barging in on Nerys’s space. This wasn’t Nerys’s room per se, but rather a small reception room on the first floor of this humble temple—but it still belonged more to Nerys’s domain than to hers.

Aidalia continued to speak in a sweet voice.

“This semester, I’m attending classes at a seminary in Ullevis. When I found out you were here, I was so glad I came to say hello.”

“Is that so?”

A smile appeared on Nerys’s face—one that looked entirely fabricated. Aidalia felt humiliated.

Had it been up to her, she would never have forced herself in like this. Her style was to run into Nerys somewhere “by coincidence,” then have either side suggest a visit or invitation.

But Heather had volunteered to handle this matter for the pope before even asking Aidalia. And the pope had ordered that it be taken care of immediately—today.

‘Just one drop. No more than one.’

As soon as he heard that she had a personal connection to Nerys Truydd and could bring her before His Holiness, he had changed his attitude and handed Aidalia a ring, saying those words.

Aidalia absentmindedly stroked the ring set with a massive gemstone. Hidden inside was a strange liquid.

‘…It’s not lethal poison.’

If it had been deadly, the pope wouldn’t have sent her alone. Heather had assured her of that.

She’d repeated that thought to herself over and over to calm her racing heart. Then she asked brightly, pretending she hadn’t heard the rumors.

“Did you come alone? Did you come here right after graduation?”

“No.”

“Really? Then where were you before this?”

“You don’t need to know.”

The conversation just wouldn’t flow. Aidalia had no idea how to enjoy tea with someone who so clearly didn’t welcome her. Worse, Nerys hadn’t even offered her a drink—how impolite.

Flustered, Aidalia scrambled to find a topic Nerys might respond to.

“Um… back in school, it’s unfortunate things weren’t good between you and Megara. Honestly, I wanted to be friends with you in our first year, but Megara didn’t like you, so…”

At that, Nerys’s brow twitched for the first time.

It was nonsense, said half-heartedly—but at least it seemed to catch Nerys’s attention. Aidalia thought the reaction wasn’t as warm as she’d hoped, but it was something. She felt slightly relieved.

And sure enough, Nerys gave a faint smile.

“Right. Megara didn’t like ‘you’ much either.”

“Th-that’s not exactly true… We just had a bit of misunderstanding…”

“Everyone wanted to be friendly with you, but Megara didn’t like you, so they couldn’t. Poor thing. But who could stop Megara from saying what she wanted, right?”

“Uh… yeah…”

Aidalia hadn’t known it was possible to hate someone this much. Or that someone could jab at her sore spots so precisely and so cruelly.

Just then, a young errand girl from the temple brought in some herbal tea. As Nerys stood to give the girl a coin for her errand, Aidalia thought this was her divine opportunity.

Just like the pope instructed, she gently slid the gem upward on the ring. From the small groove inside, a droplet of liquid emerged.

Aidalia, her hand trembling, let a drop fall into Nerys’s teacup.

One drop…

But how much was one drop exactly? What she’d just added felt too small to be effective. What if the dose was too low to work?

Would adding a second drop count as 1.5? That was still less than two, wasn’t it? So technically, she’d still followed the instruction.

She could hear Nerys chatting casually with the errand girl. Aidalia’s forehead grew damp with sweat. Her heart was pounding so hard it hurt.

Then, another droplet began to form in the ring’s hidden compartment.

In that fleeting moment, Aidalia debated countless things. And then something within her whispered. Something that didn’t feel quite like her.

What’s the harm in two drops?

The pope hadn’t said exactly what would happen with two drops. But it had been implied—enough to know it would be dangerous.

And if it’s dangerous, so what?

The whisper continued. Nerys was a vile girl. She had a nasty personality, a lowly background, and yet dared to get close to Nellusion—and now dared to aim for the position of duchess…

Wouldn’t the world be better off without her?

Aidalia realized, with a strange clarity, that she genuinely believed that.

She closed her eyes and swallowed.

Then she added the second drop.

The reddish liquid, once in the tea, dispersed instantly and lost all color. At that moment, Nerys returned to her seat.

“You know, Aidalia.”

As soon as she sat, Nerys began speaking with a casual “You know, actually…” tone. Aidalia stared at her, trembling slightly.

“Y-yeah?”

“You weren’t invited. And there’s no way you could’ve known I was here. But I let you in anyway—and I had my reasons.”

“…What?”

Aidalia’s spine chilled. It was a primal warning from her instincts.

Nerys smiled—but didn’t touch her teacup.

“I’m so done with this connection between us. I thought our history ended back in school… but now you’ve come here, saying you want to help me? No reason to refuse, then. And with Heather here too? Perfect.”

“W-what are you talking about?”

Heather had worn a hood the entire way here, worried Nerys might recognize her. She was still waiting outside, hood pulled low. Aidalia’s hands shook so violently that she spilled her own tea.

“Oh no, what a mess.”

Nerys calmly took out a handkerchief and wiped Aidalia’s hands. Then, with a natural motion, she slipped the pope’s jeweled ring from her finger.

Aidalia froze, then screamed in panic.

“I-I was threatened!”

“Of course you were. Now, you’ll need to drink this tea. Yours spilled, remember?”

Naturally, she pointed to the cup that Aidalia had laced with the drug. Aidalia turned pale and trembled.

Nerys’s voice grew flat and bored.

“It’s not a poison that kills with one or two drops. It just puts you into a coma for a long time.”

“How do you know that!?”

“I’ve seen someone drink it before. One drop puts you out for a few days. Two or more can last for months… or even years, depending on the dose. Your breathing slows, your body goes cold—you ‘look’ dead. But you wake up once it wears off. Sleeping for a few days is no big deal. But if it’s months? Obviously there’ll be lasting effects.”

Aidalia stared at her in disbelief. Nerys met her eyes and smiled.

Those Jeweled Eyes—glimmering with a hundred subtle hues. She’d heard rumors, but seeing them up close… Aidalia had hated them the moment she stepped into this room.

Why only Nerys?

Why did ‘that’ wretched girl get all the luck? Aidalia finally realized: that voice she’d heard whispering in her heart—it had always been her own.

And at that moment, her mind simply shut down.

❖ ❖ ❖

‘Clean up your own mess.’

Watching Aidalia collapse after drinking the tea, Nerys sighed.

In her previous life, she had seen Omnitus’s jeweled ring and the drug it held put to use. Back then, the one holding the ring hadn’t been some trembling noble girl, but one of Omnitus’s closest aides.

Knock knock.

“Come in.”

Cledwyn entered with a smile. Behind him, Aidan entered as well—dragging Heather Rayling in restraints.

“Let me go! How dare you—this is an outrage!”

Heather’s hood had long since been pulled back. Nerys, still seated, smiled and waved.

“Hello, Heather. Been a while, hasn’t it? Not since you and your dad got kicked out of Diane’s household, right?”

“Nerys Truydd!”

Heather growled like a beast.

The situation was overwhelmingly against her. And Nerys knew Heather was someone who could assess her odds well. So she was briefly surprised by the outburst—then gave a calm analysis.

“You want revenge… and you saw money as the path.”

“What did you do to Aidalia!”

“Tsk. You should call her ‘my lady.’ She is your noble mistress, after all. I won’t ask how you found out I was here—you’re Heather. Of course you found a way.”

Nerys had never once spared a thought for what happened to Heather after she was kicked out of Diane’s home.

It wasn’t because she was merciful—noble society placed immense value on reputation. With her father a criminal, Heather would never even get a foot back in the door.

And yet, she’d somehow managed to serve the beloved daughter of Marquis Kendall. That alone spoke to Heather’s competence. If she’d been born noble, she might’ve rivaled even Megara.

Cledwyn glanced at Aidalia’s unconscious body and asked casually,

“Is she dead?”

“No.”

“Pity.”

“Did she do something to offend you?”

“If she offended ‘my’ wife, then she offended ‘me’.”

Saying that, he sat beside Nerys and kissed the back of her hand. Heather glared at her like she would kill her.

“Who knows what’ll happen to Aidalia. I guess it depends. She’ll suffer exactly as much as she deserves. …Heather, I’m really glad you’re here. Thanks to you, things just got a lot easier.”

Ren’s plan was dangerous—but if it worked, it would gain them a powerful ally. Even if they did occasionally clash over trivial matters.

Nerys gestured to Aidan.

“Leave the girl and clear the room. I want to speak with Heather privately.”

“I wouldn’t recommend that, Your Grace.”

He now used her newly given title. Nerys smiled calmly.

“Then tie her up and go. It’s a conversation for women only. No men allowed.”

The men exchanged puzzled looks. What could there possibly be to talk about between women at a time like this? But they followed her orders nonetheless.

Cledwyn lingered for a moment, but eventually left as well. Once they were gone, Nerys stepped toward the bound and kneeling Heather.

“Living like you do is cursed! You vile wretch! First you clung to Diane, now you’re clinging to some highborn man!”

“Like how you clung to Muriel, hmm? You always assume others are just like you. It’s funny, really. The more vulgar a person is, the more they can’t imagine anything beyond their tiny little world.”

At the condescending tone, Heather grit her teeth, eyes blazing. Nerys returned her glare with a calm expression.

“You’re not wrong, Heather. I understand. I really do. I’m a person driven by money and revenge, too.”

The light in Heather’s eyes began to fade.