ushernet Chapter 18
Chapter 18
Still, it wasn’t something that would kill him.
Elodie watched the maid steeping the tea, her expression anything but pleased.
And then—
The maid opened a small container.
A strong, pungent scent hit Elodie like a slap, making her eyes widen in alarm.
Herbs from the Kingdom of Velma!
Elodie froze as the maid sprinkled the powdered herb into the tea and placed the cup in front of Eisen.
"No!"
She shot up from her seat as Eisen, without a second thought, brought the teacup to his lips.
CRASH!
Too late.
By the time she realized what she had done, she had already hit the floor with a resounding thud.
Elodie clutched her stinging nose, her face scrunched up in pain.
Right... I’m still cursed.@@@@
She couldn’t walk on two feet without holding onto something.
"Good grief."
Eisen let out an exasperated sigh.
With a small clink, he set the teacup back down on the desk.
It worked.
It hadn’t been intentional, but one way or another, she had prevented him from drinking it.
"Can’t take my eyes off you for a second, can I?"
Before she could react, she suddenly felt herself lifted into the air.
At the same time, a drop of red dripped from her nose onto the floor.
Ah. Blood.
Reflexively, Elodie tilted her head back, but Eisen’s firm grip clamped down on her head.
"Don’t tilt back. It’ll go down your throat."
"......."
"Just let it bleed out."
He pressed the back of her head down, keeping her still, and without hesitation, wiped the blood away—with his own sleeve.
Elodie gawked at the sight of the expensive fabric soaking up her blood.
"Your clothes are ruined!"
"I don’t carry handkerchiefs."
Well... yeah, that did seem like something he would find annoying.
But to actually use his own sleeve without a second thought?
"Isn’t blood dirty?"
"It happens every day."
Elodie’s pupils trembled violently.
Every day?
How was having blood on your clothes every day normal?
The reason was probably something gruesome, so she forced herself not to ask.
"Why did you tell me not to drink it?"
She tensed.
Eisen pinched the bridge of his nose, still stemming the blood, and waited for her answer.
"Sir! If you drink that, you won’t be able to feel anything!"
It was a neurotoxin.
"And who gifted me this herb from Velma?"
He directed the question to his aide.
The man let out a short sigh before replying.
"...Earl Hamilton."
"I see."
Eisen gave a simple order.
"Bring him in."
***
"The doctor game will have to wait for another time."
As soon as her nosebleed stopped, Elodie was promptly kicked out of Eisen’s office.
Hmph.
Not surprising.
No sane person would let a five-year-old witness an interrogation.
But I need to see this.
It was highly unlikely that Earl Hamilton had innocently discovered a new tea recipe and just wanted to help the Duke.
If that were the case, wouldn’t he have brought it to him personally?
Why whisper about it through a maid?
And even lie about it being a trend in the capital?
That meant he knew about the neurotoxic reaction.
And that meant—
Was he the mastermind?
The one behind the faction that kills Duke Valkyrisen five years from now?
Poisoning his nervous system would have left him vulnerable—
And once he lost sensation, all they would need was a subtle method, leaving no trace.
The Duke already had a limp. If his nerves were damaged too, he’d be an even easier target.
Elodie had to find out.
She quickly checked her surroundings.
No one in sight.
Poof!
She transformed into a harvest mouse.
The underground prison should be this way...
***
The old man finally lifted his gaze from his documents, removing the spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose.
With a slow flick of his wrist, the screaming echoing through the dungeon came to an abrupt halt.
"Hahh... ahhh... Sir—please—please spare me!"
Earl Hamilton, momentarily freed from his agony, gasped for breath, barely able to form words.
"I-I’ve committed a grave sin... I beg you—spare me, and I will do anything you ask!"
He grovelled, pressing his forehead against the filthy stone floor.
But Eisen didn’t spare him a single glance.
When his pleading was met with silence, his desperation twisted into venomous hatred.
"You bastard... You ruin me at every turn! A cursed devil like you should rot in hell! May your entire bloodline be cursed!"
Eisen ignored the insults, treating them like background noise, and instead, addressed his aide.
"Well? What did you find?"
The man—a beastfolk with the sharp eyes of an eagle—bowed his head slightly.
"Sir, it is as the young mistress said. It was neurotoxin."