“I was surprised to hear that the Countess was looking for me. Did something happen?”
With a concerned expression, Cliff spoke, “You don’t look well.”
Judith wondered if Cliff’s pallor was because he was sick or because he was shaken by the fact that the woman he had tried to kill was still alive and well.
“Yes, something did happen,”
Judith replied, her tone laced with subtle meaning as she fidgeted with her teacup.
She had invited Cliff to the Rainland mansion to gauge his reactions, but he insisted on meeting in the salon instead.
“An assassin broke into the mansion,”
“An assassin? Who on earth would send an assassin after you, Countess?”
Cliff’s eyes widened in shock, and he repeatedly asked if she was alright. His tone of concern seemed sincere, but there was one glaring omission in his response.
If an assassin had truly come, how did she survive?
Logically, that question should have come after expressing concern for her well-being. A woman alone, confronted by an assassin, managing to survive without serious injury — naturally, anyone would be curious about how she did it.
Was Cliff simply oblivious, or did he already know who had dealt with the assassin? Judith resolved to find out.
“I captured one of the assassins alive,”
She said, letting out a long, weary sigh as if to emphasize how difficult it had been.
An assassin captured alive? Of course, that wasn’t true.
But the one who sent the assassin would have no way of knowing if they had all been killed or if one had survived to provide information.
“You captured them alive?”
Cliff tried to maintain his composure, but his trembling eyes betrayed his inner turmoil.
“Yes. And I interrogated him too,”
Judith added, subtly chipping away at Cliff’s fragile calm.
“By the way, Cliff,”
“Yes, my lady?”
“Are you not curious about how I managed to capture and interrogate an assassin on my own?”
Cliff’s fingertips quivered at the question.
Damn it. She knows everything. That’s why she called me here.
The Countess’s voice was as calm as if she were inquiring about the type of tea they were drinking. Cliff clenched his teeth to suppress his frustration.
From the moment Judith sent a letter inviting him to the mansion, Cliff had felt uneasy. He could have declined, but something told him that he shouldn’t.
They say ominous premonitions never fail.*
As Cliff frowned, Judith turned her head to glance at a nearby table. Two large men were seated across from each other.
One of them pulled down the cloth covering his face just enough for Cliff to see. The moment he recognized the face, Cliff nearly screamed.
“…Erne.”
Cliff’s hands, resting on his lap, began to tremble violently. Even after a second look, his heart felt like it had plummeted into his stomach. How was he alive? Cliff had confirmed with his own eyes that Erne’s heart had stopped.
His face turned ghostly pale, as though he had seen a phantom. No matter how reckless that man was, surely he wouldn’t try to kill him in a crowded place like this. Right?
“Mr. Cliff.”
Judith drew Cliff’s attention back to her.
“Why did you send an assassin?”
Cliff didn’t respond. It seemed he was buying time to come up with an answer that would benefit him.
“Oh, you don’t have to answer that question,”
“Pardon?”
“I’m not that curious, to be honest. I assume you were trying to kill either me or Erne. Your goal was probably the title, right? It’s fine.”
Judith waved her hand dismissively, as if it truly didn’t matter. For a moment, Cliff’s face was blank with shock.
“Thanks to the assassin you sent, my household suffered significant damage, but that’s okay,”
“……….”
“My husband and I have already agreed to forgive you. Of course, that’s on the condition that you compensate us for all the damages.”
Judith smiled sweetly at him, and Cliff let out a hollow laugh. He was so dumbfounded that, without realizing it, he voiced his thoughts.
“So, if I pay compensation, you’ll pretend the assassination attempt never happened?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean,”
Of course, you’ll have to compensate us generously.
“Oh, and for the record, this arrangement was also agreed upon with Sir Erne. If you provide the compensation and answer a few of our questions, we won’t touch you.”
Judith promised not to report him to the authorities or threaten his life. After all, there was no guarantee the authorities would properly punish him even if he were handed over.
Since Cliff was a lawyer, the moment he realized there was no solid evidence against him, he would undoubtedly look for a way to escape the situation.
In that case, wouldn’t it be better to extract everything they could from him and then let him go?
Erne readily agreed to the plan. While Cliff’s betrayal was bitter, it wasn’t as if Erne hadn’t already encountered countless people wishing for his death.
He could have sought out Cliff to take direct revenge, but even the thought of it felt bothersome.
What truly mattered to him was understanding why his body hadn’t decayed after death. If his body failed to decompose the next time he died, it would be a serious problem.
“Oh, and you’ll also have to promise not to send any more assassins.”
“………..”
“If you don’t accept our offer, you can forget about getting a good night’s sleep starting tonight. After all, the man you tried to kill will come knocking on your door.”
After a brief moment of hesitation, Cliff nodded. Since everything was already exposed, he figured it would be better to negotiate.
“Fine, I promise. But you must keep your end of the deal too. I’ll answer as many questions as I can, as long as I know the answers.”
Cliff, clearly parched, emptied his teacup in one go.
“Alright, let me ask you something then. How did Sir Erne come back to life?”
“That’s exactly what I want to know.”
For the first time, his sincerity was apparent.
“I poisoned Erne’s drink and watched as his breathing stopped. I even had a physician confirm his death. After that, I…”
Cliff poured out his words in a rush before abruptly stopping. He coughed awkwardly a few times before continuing.
“After that, Erne’s body, I…”
Suddenly, Cliff covered his mouth with his hand, but blood seeped through his fingers.
Judith, alarmed, rose halfway from her seat.
“Why do I feel so dizz—cough…”
Cliff vomited blood and collapsed on the spot.
***
A few hours later, at the Capital’s security force.
After Cliff vomited blood and collapsed, Judith was brought in alone.
“What is this glass bottle? It was found among Miss Harrington’s belongings, correct? What is it, poison?”
She was arrested on suspicion of attempting to murder Cliff Ackerman, caught at the scene. During the arrest, they confiscated a small vial from her sleeve.
Judith insisted it wasn’t poison. Before meeting Cliff, she had begged Henry to procure a truth serum for her.
Her plan had been to bluff by claiming she had captured an assassin and to threaten Cliff with the sight of a living Erne. But since she couldn’t be sure if Cliff would tell the truth, she had prepared the truth serum as a backup.
When Cliff met Erne’s gaze, Judith discreetly slipped the serum into Cliff’s teacup.
Fortunately, the truth serum, though rare, wasn’t classified as an illegal substance.
“Then why did Mr. Cliff Ackerman vomit blood and collapse?”
The security officer’s tone was filled with suspicion as he interrogated her.
“That’s exactly what I want to know too.”
Judith was on the verge of losing her mind. It made no sense for someone to vomit blood after drinking a truth serum. To make matters worse, Cliff had collapsed in a crowded salon, leading to her immediate arrest and detention at the security headquarters.
And where had Erne and Henry gone during all of this? They were nowhere to be seen.
Cowards. Did they really leave her to face this alone?
“I’ll drink the liquid myself. If I drink it and it’s not poison, that will prove my innocence.”
“So, now that you’re at a disadvantage, you’re trying to kill yourself?”
“No, officer.”
Judith clung to the bars of the cell, putting on the most pitiful expression she could muster, but it had no effect.
“There will be a proper procedure to determine if it’s poison or not. Just wait.”
The officer checked the lock on the cell door and walked away. Judith crouched down, unable to bring herself to sit on the filthy floor.
“Could it have been a side effect of the potion?”
But I drank it before, and nothing happened.
“Maybe he had some kind of underlying illness?”
Gnawing on her nails, Judith let out a deep sigh. She had hoped to squeeze a little — no, a lot — of compensation money out of Cliff, but now look at her. She wasn’t getting any compensation, nor had she solved the mystery of Erne’s condition.
“Are they really not coming?”
So much for loyalty. She could understand Erne, but Henry was part of the security force. How could he just disappear like that? She was boiling with rage over their betrayal.
“If I get out of here, I won’t let this slide,”
She muttered, glaring at the air as if her enemies were right in front of her.
When would she be able to get out?
There was no telling when the poison test would be completed, and even if they confirmed it wasn’t poison, there was no guarantee she’d be released immediately.
“Surely, Mr. Cliff won’t die, right?”
If he died, the investigation and trial would drag on endlessly. And what about her business? What would happen to all the pre-ordered products? Would this be the end of everything?
“This is driving me insane,”
Her mind was in turmoil as she struggled to come up with a solution. Suddenly, there was a commotion deeper within the security force.
Sensing something unusual, Judith got up and clutched the bars, straining to see what was happening. Not long after, the officer who had locked her up approached her cell.
“What’s going on, officer?”
“You’re free to go, Miss Harrington.”
“Wait, does that mean I’m no longer a suspect?”
Even as she stepped through the open cell door, Judith couldn’t believe it. Could they really clear someone of poisoning charges this quickly?
“Marquess Mosley vouched for your identity,”
“Pardon?”
Judith nearly blurted out, “Who did?” but caught herself just in time.
The Marquess Mosley? Who even was that? And why would someone like that vouch for her?
🍓; *Means that bad or unsettling feelings about something usually turn out to be true. It implies that when someone has a sense of foreboding or dread, events often unfold in a way that confirms those fears.
Mosley???