She thought back to Reuters—the man she had always encountered in the strangest places.
Of course, he wasn’t really Reuters. He was the prince.
But still…
She had always found him in places where people had collapsed, died, or in the slums.
Why had the prince been in those places?
“Nothing much.”
Dante absentmindedly tossed another twig into the fire, answering dismissively.
Letier studied him carefully.
There was something both the prince and Reuters had in common.
She remembered how, during their first meeting, Reuters had randomly asked her about poisons.
The prince, too, had shown interest in the toxicology book she had been carrying.
And he always seemed to appear at the scene of poison-related incidents…
“Why are you so interested in poisons?”
Her question came out of nowhere.
But Dante didn’t seem surprised—almost as if he had expected it.
His answer was just as casual.
“For the same reason you’re interested in cosmetic ingredients.”
“…Do you want to make poison?”
Dante scowled at the absurdity of her conclusion.
“How did you even get that idea?”
Letier rocked back slightly, rolling her eyes.
“Well, never mind. If it’s something personal, I’ll just leave it at that.”
She had no intention of prying any further.
With that, she let her mind slow down.
She was exhausted—her legs ached, her stomach was empty, and her mind was drained.
Letier leaned against the hard ground, lying on her side—only to sit up again almost immediately.
“…”
Suddenly, she missed Lucy terribly.
Lucy… You were right. I really can’t sleep on cold, hard ground for even a minute…
“How strange.”
Dante’s voice, low and steady, broke the silence.
Letier, who had been glaring at the unforgiving floor, lifted her head.
He was still gazing into the fire as he spoke.
“Everyone else is so desperate to figure me out. But you… you always act like you don’t care.”
“…”
Letier shifted her gaze toward the fire.
A long silence stretched between them, broken only by the quiet crackling of the flames.
“…When I was very young, I saw someone die right in front of me.”
Dante, who had been sitting motionless across from her, finally began to speak.
Letier turned her attention back to him.
“There was no sign of illness, no wounds. That man had done nothing but exchange a few words with a palace maid before his skin broke out in rashes, and he died in agony, clawing at his own face.”
Letier frowned slightly.
She had witnessed death before as well.
It hadn’t been violent, but…
She clenched her fists at the memory.
“After that, more and more people kept dying. They’d enter the palace perfectly fine, only to be carried out unconscious or worse.”
She focused on his words.
“Eventually, I realized they all had one thing in common.”
“…The maid?”
“That’s right. Anyone who so much as spoke to her died.”
Letier’s mind jumped to the obvious question—had the maid been poisoning them?
But if they only talked to her…
“I later found out that she had complete control over poisons. But it wasn’t the kind of poison that needed to be ingested.”
Dante continued, his voice calm but laced with something darker.
“The palace had strict measures in place—food and drink were heavily monitored. So instead… she used poisons that entered the body through skin contact or inhalation.”
“…Through skin or breath?”
A shiver ran down Letier’s spine.
With that kind of poison, even a brief touch—just brushing a hand against someone’s face—could be lethal.
“Just a friendly pat on the cheek was enough to kill.”
“What kind of person would—” Letier stopped mid-sentence, then hesitated before asking, “Where is she now? Was she caught?”
“She’s currently controlling the empire as she pleases.”
Dante’s expression remained unreadable, but Letier saw the brief flicker of something behind his eyes.
A face surfaced in his mind—radiantly beautiful, but utterly chilling.
Every time her greedy blue eyes met his, he had felt nothing but disgust.
“…Controlling the empire?”
“The ambitious palace maid used her ability to poison and cure people at her convenience. That’s how she climbed all the way to the highest position in Trillante.”
“Don’t tell me…!”
Letier clapped both hands over her mouth.
Only one person held the highest seat of power.
The Empress.
As their eyes met across the fire, Dante gave her a small, knowing nod.
“…How could something like that— But if you know the truth, then—”
“I was powerless. And by the time I had proof, she was already Empress.”
Dante leaned back against the stone wall, staring up at the dark ceiling, where water occasionally dripped down.
“The Emperor… he loved her. After losing my mother, he was never quite sane again. Maybe that’s why his obsession with her ran so deep.”
Letier had no words.
What could she even say?
She sat there in silence, feeling the weight of everything she had just learned settle heavily around them.
While she had been comfortably holed up in Lenever Duchy, leisurely expanding her business, this had been happening in the Imperial Palace.
Dante let out a self-deprecating chuckle.
“No one would have believed me. So, like a coward, I chose to avoid her instead.”
“…That’s why you pretended to have a skin disease…”
Letier shuddered, recalling the Empress—how she had spoken with her so casually before.
The woman who had always appeared perfect now seemed utterly terrifying.
How could this even be real?
Someone has to uncover the truth…
As she pieced together everything Dante had told her, another memory surfaced.
The mysterious cases in the capital.
People coughing up violet foam, clawing at their own faces, writhing in agony…
She could finally see the link she hadn’t noticed before.
Hesitantly, she asked,
“Then… the unexplained incidents in the capital… are they…?”
“They’re still under investigation. It might not be connected to her.”
“…Haah.”
Letier lowered her head, overwhelmed.
By simply listening to him, she felt as if she had been pulled into a massive storm.
“Letier.”
Dante lifted his crimson eyes to meet hers.
They were more serious than ever.
“…I need you.”
“…”
“You’re intelligent, and your knowledge of chemical compounds and ingredients is invaluable.”
“But I—”
“Even when you were brought to the palace against your will, you took your role as a skin healer seriously. You’re responsible and dedicated.”
Letier bit her lip.
She knew what he was asking of her.
But she wasn’t sure she had the courage.
“…And yet, I know how much you love your cosmetics business.”
His words struck true.
She didn’t have the power, time, or freedom to help him.
“I won’t force you. I always intended to tell you one day… but I never expected it to be like this.”
“…Your Highness…”
“For now, forget what I said and just get some rest. I’ve given you a lot to think about, and I don’t feel great about it.”
Dante shifted slightly, leaning against the rock wall before lying down beside the fire.
Letier watched him silently, her eyes fixed on his familiar yet unfamiliar face.
“…Your Highness.”
“Go to sleep, Letier.”
“…I—”
“You don’t have to answer now.”
At the persistence in her voice, Dante opened his eyes.
His crimson gaze, burning like embers, locked onto hers.
It was clear he expected her to drop the subject and get some sleep.
Letier held his stare, swallowing hard before finally speaking.
It was something she had to say now.
“…I really can’t sleep on hard ground…”
****
Letier frowned as she opened her eyes.
Bright sunlight streamed in through the narrow entrance.
Slowly, she blinked and pushed herself upright.
Beneath her, she felt the pile of clothes Dante had laid out for her the night before.
She turned her head toward the extinguished firewood on the other side of the shelter.
Dante was nowhere to be seen.
“…Where did he go?”
Taking advantage of his absence, Letier quickly changed back into her own clothes.
Just as she finished folding Dante’s black tunic neatly, he returned.
“You’re up?”
“Your Highness.”
Dante took the tunic from her, slipping it over his head before layering on his now-dry coat and tattered robe.
Then, he gestured for her to follow him outside.
He pointed toward the west, where a thin column of gray smoke was rising in the distance.
“…That’s…”
“The western outpost. Looks like they’ve lit a beacon for us.”
“Then let’s go!”
Excited, Letier tapped the front of her shoes against the ground, ready to take off immediately.
But before she could, Dante caught her wrist, stopping her.
With an easy smile, he said,
“Before that, there’s somewhere we need to stop by.”
