A few days before the incident in the hall, in Julion’s office.
Marquis Thetman looked at the crimson potion in front of him and doubted his ears.
The Crown Prince says that this is the antidote for the poisonous beetles.
Julion clicked his tongue softly, as Marquis Thetman failed to grasp the situation immediately.
“If you don’t need it, I’ll take it back.”
Julion reached for the vial again.
Only then did Marquis Thetman come to his senses, hastily reaching out to hold the vial in his arms.
“N-No! Why would I not need it?”
“Your reaction seemed lukewarm.”
“W-Well… I was just too surprised. I’ve been trying every means to obtain an antidote for the poison, and now it turns out it can be made so easily.”
Marquis Thetman breathed heavily as he clutched the antidote.
The luminous, crimson liquid.
Upon closer inspection, it felt slightly different from the medication Duke Cassian had given.
“But is it truly effective…?”
“It was made by the Crown Princess. She said it was an antidote, so it must be.”
“The Princess…”
Thinking of Rohiriel, Marquis Thetman tightened his grip on the vial.
Julion frowned disapprovingly at Marquis Thetman’s reaction.
“Why, you don’t trust the princess’s apothecary skills?”
“N-No, that’s not it. On the contrary, I’m truly grateful.”
She was a lady of Cassian who endured everyone’s criticism.
However, since she arrived at the palace, she has cured the Empress, saved the Emperor, and now even wants to help the nobles.
‘Well, the princess made it; it should be effective.’
With that thought, Marquis Thetman grasped the potion.
Julion, who watched him with displeasure, buried himself deeper into the chair and asked,
“Are you just going to express gratitude with words and leave it at that?”
“Ah, of course, I will pay a fair price. How much would it be…?”
“Repay me with your body.”
“Yes, then with my body… Wait, what?”
Marquis Thetman reflexively nodded, then belatedly understood Julion’s words, his expression turning foolish.
As his face gradually paled, Julion furrowed his brow.
“What are you thinking?”
“I, Your Highness…”
“…Seems like the timing is right.”
Julion’s gaze shifted toward the office door, and a knock sounded on it.
“Your Highness, Countess Rivolain, is here.”
Marquis Thetman’s eyes widened at the sudden appearance of Countess Rivolain.
The Countess stepped through the open door and bowed.
“Countess Erka of Rivolain greets his Highness the Crown Prince.”
“Enough with the formality. Take a seat.”
“Yes, Your Highness. It’s been a while since I last saw Marquis Thetman, too.”
Before taking her seat, the Countess gently greeted Marquis Thetman.
Julion smiled meaningfully into the Marquis’s questioning eyes.
“I called even the Countess because there’s something you need to do.”
“Yes, please give your orders. Rivolain will unquestionably comply.”
Rivolain was indebted to the Imperial Family.
To Rohiriel, to be exact, but that didn’t mean she lacked gratitude towards Julion.
“I will, of course, comply, Your Highness.”
Thetman, understanding that repaying with his body meant carrying out a task, bowed his head with a puzzled expression.
Both of them vaguely speculated that Julion would talk about Rohiriel’s disappearance.
But what Julion said next was not at all what they had expected.
“Graham Thetman and Erka Rivolain. Both of you will have to die soon.”
“……?”
Both Marquis Thetman and Countess Rivolain blinked simultaneously, dumbfounded.
Regardless of how much they owed,
No matter how grateful they were.
“Your Highness, if we were to die, we wouldn’t be able to repay the favor…”
As Marquis Thetman timidly spoke, Julion couldn’t help but chuckle involuntarily.
It reminded him of when Rohiriel told the chief physician to die.
‘Perhaps this plan was also influenced by Rohiriel.’
She’s not the type to make a big deal out of things.
But Rohirriel was…
Julion shook his head at the thought.
Thoughts about Rohiriel kept coming back to him without warning.
He pushed the thought away and turned his gaze back to Marquis Thetman in front of him.
“I’m not asking you to really die. I just want you to pretend.”
“In front of whom are we supposed to pretend to die?”
“In a few days, nobles will be summoned to the imperial palace. We need to set some examples to filter out the impurities.”
“So, dozens of eyes will witness our ‘deaths’?”
“That’s right. It should be a very, very realistic death.”
Countess Rivolain seemed to understand the situation from Julion’s brief explanation and continued the conversation casually.
Marquis Thetman, too, finally grasped the situation and cautiously added a word.
“If that’s the case, I believe I can manage…!”
And so, the plan to identify the Sertizan loyalists began.
Up until this point, Marquis Thetman felt confident.
He even felt relieved.
It seemed so simple: drink some potion, feign vomiting, and act in pain.
So he didn’t think much of it. On the day of the execution, he was handed a potion that looked exactly like the antidote, claiming it was a harmless potion that Barmid had made himself.
He only felt the burden and tension of performing in front of dozens of eyes.
‘He didn’t mention it would be this agonizing!’
As Marquis Thetman was carried, like a corpse, to the palace infirmary, his body writhed in discomfort.
As soon as he drank the potion, it felt like his throat was burning, and his stomach churned uncontrollably.
He vomited violently, and blood-like liquid sprayed out of his mouth.
For a moment, he genuinely feared he was being poisoned by the prince.
He seemed to lose his mind in the midst of such agony.
‘Fortunately… I’m still alive.’
As he opened his eyes, Marquis Thetman found himself inside the newly built palace infirmary.
He was worried that something was really wrong with his body, but then the door opened and a familiar face walked in.
“Erka!”
“Uncle? You woke up quickly.”
As they were familiar with each other, they talked comfortably in private settings.
Marquis Thetman looked at Countess Rivolain, who seemed to have known he would faint.
“You… knew, didn’t you?”
“Oh, I just had a feeling. His Highness’s gaze toward you seemed a bit too indifferent.”
“Tsk…”
Marquis Thetman sighed and shrugged his shoulders despondently.
‘I was confident I’d do well. I practiced a lot with Raviette.’
Just last night, he had practiced several times with Raviette, asking her to see if he looked like he was truly dying.
But now, despite all that practice, he couldn’t even use it and ended up relying on the potion instead.
Thetman asked with a disappointed tone,
“Anyway, I guess our part is over, right?”
“It seems so. The rest… His Highness will take care of it.”
Countess Rivolain turned her gaze toward the hall beyond the window.
By now, perhaps, the winds of change were blowing.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The antidote to the poisonous beetle.
Everyone who knew of the existence of the beetles understood how difficult it was to obtain the antidote.
Aside from the simple difficulty of obtaining it, acquiring the antidote is currently nearly impossible.
In the past, when they were still around, you could get them for a lot of money.
But after the palace eradicated them all, it was now like finding a needle in a haystack.
There wasn’t a nobleman in the room who didn’t know that.
Except for a few, they were all poisoned by the beetle.
“I-Is that really the antidote…?”
Count Iel muttered in a trembling voice.
He was one of those who couldn’t bear to die and was desperately looking for another opportunity.
He even had the negligent thought that perhaps Julion wouldn’t really brand all these nobles as traitors.
He rationalized to himself that it was inevitable that they would follow Cassian’s words, commit evil deeds, and turn against the imperial family.
He tried to see what would happen first.
“This is ridiculous; an antidote?”
“Your Highness, perhaps you got the information from Duke Cassian?”
Some asked Julion.
However, Julion only gave a chilling smile and ordered the knights without answering.
“Check the condition of those who collapsed. If they really are dead, send them off peacefully. Put them in coffins and bury them in the ground.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
As the knights approached those who pretended to have taken the potion and collapsed, they writhed as if asking when they had lost consciousness, then quickly got up.
“Y-Your Highness! No! We’re f-fine. It seems we just briefly fainted from the fear of imminent death.”
The red stain on the front of their clothing was clearly visible.
Clearly, they hadn’t drunk the medicine and had spilled it on the front of their clothes.
Julion sneered.
“You all seem to have spilled a lot of the potion.”
“We were too shaky and almost spilled this precious potion…”
“I-I also…! I was too scared and spilled it, so this way, the potion won’t work properly. Please, give us one more dose!”
When they realized that it was an antidote, their demeanor completely changed, and they now cried out for more.
Even other nobles stood behind, pleading desperately. Only those who actually drank the potion, including Ranches, politely bowed to Julion, expressing their gratitude.
Amidst the increasing chaos, Julion coldly commanded,
“Capture all those traitorous scoundrels. Strip them of their titles, forbid any rise in their social status for the next 500 years, and brand them with a traitor mark on their foreheads before sending them to labor camps.”
As Julion’s orders were carried out, the nobles erupted in even greater uproar.
However, Julion allowed no room for negotiation or exceptions.
Julion’s gaze grew weary as he watched those being dragged away to prison.
“Your Highness, please, just the antidote!”
“Just the antidote, please…!”
The nobles clamored for the antidote until the very end.
But Julion remained unmoved.
‘We’ll give the antidote when the time is right. After all, if things continued like this, all the poisoned individuals would go mad and wouldn’t be able to work properly.’
‘But not yet.’
It would take time for the symptoms to become fully apparent.
Only then could they truly identify those afflicted by the poisonous beetles.
Then they’ll be able to recognize the Cassian spies who are hiding, pretending to be poisoned.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Julion spent the next few days immersed in work once more.
He didn’t sleep and only focused on his tasks.
He worked tirelessly, even on matters that could wait for the future.
To be ready for any unforeseen circumstances, Pailson and Barmid stationed themselves in Julion’s office.
Only when the Empress pleaded with him to rest did Julion stop working and seek out the Emperor.
“I have come to return the authority and power you bestowed on me, Your Majesty.”
Julion’s voice was calmer than ever.
However, the Emperor knew that his son was burning with fiery passion.
The Emperor slowly opened and closed his eyes.
“So be it. Thanks to you, I have been able to rest adequately. You have worked hard.”
“And I have one request.”
Julion looked directly into the Emperor’s chestnut-colored eyes.
With that gaze, the Emperor anticipated what Julion was about to say.
“Please allow me to abdicate my crown prince duties and leave.”
Julion spoke with a composed tone, delivering a radical statement.
He had now completed all of the tasks that Rohiriel had assigned him.
She had entrusted him with the antidote for the poisonous beetle and asked him to clean up after her.
He had diligently sifted through the nobles and apprehended Cassian’s spies, and now Cassian’s entire clan was awaiting execution for treason.
All that remained was—
“I must go find my wife.”
To find Rohiriel.
