Chapter 22
A few days later, I was summoned to Kyle’s office. From the moment the guard shoved me inside, I held my chin high, wearing an air of defiance.
Kyle glanced at me and let out a faint chuckle.
“You managed to poison him. And in quite a dramatic fashion, too.”
Kyle rose from behind his desk and approached. I met his gaze head-on and answered with a sharp tone.
“It wasn’t that difficult. I’ve been acting as a saintess, after all. Tricking some gullible knight was nothing.”
By now, the prison was buzzing with rumors that I had poisoned the inmate in the next cell.
Apparently, my wicked witch performance had been convincing, because ever since that day, the other prisoners had begun to avoid and shun me. Thanks to that, the exercise yard had become pleasantly peaceful.
I was secretly satisfied with the result, but then Kyle’s next words made my brow furrow.
“For a swindler, it must’ve been as easy as sipping cold soup. I might even ask you to do it again, from time to time.”
Again? As if I would ever pull something like that again. Just remembering the days I suffered after ingesting belladonna made me shiver. I’d sooner shove the poison bottle down Kyle’s throat and kill him outright.
As I was once more imagining grabbing Kyle by the neck and shaking him to death, his piercing gaze locked onto mine.
“But you ate the poisoned food as well, didn’t you? That wasn’t necessary.”
Feeling guilty, I averted my eyes and fumbled for an excuse.
“I had no choice. He wouldn’t eat unless I ate too.”
Kyle slowly swept his gaze from the shadows under my eyes down to my feet, as if checking for any lingering effects. His snake-like stare slithering down my body made my skin prickle.
Finally, his eyes rose back to my face. Grabbing my chin, he tilted my head this way and that, frowning as he muttered:
“You’ve lost more weight, probably from the poison. If your stomach hurt, you should’ve asked for medicine.”
“…!”
There was an antidote? If I’d known that, I would’ve spoken up! Instead, I had writhed in pain for days, suffering needlessly.
“Why are you only telling me now?!”
I shouted, and Kyle raised an eyebrow in disbelief. True, he couldn’t have expected me to eat the poisoned food meant for Richard, but once he heard I had, he could’ve at least sent the antidote afterward. My glare was full of resentment.
Then I suddenly remembered our bargain.
“More importantly—my wish. Grant it.”
“What wish?”
Kyle’s voice was low and languid.
“You promised. If I did as you asked, you’d grant me one wish. You’re not pretending to forget now, are you?”
If this con artist tried to cheat me, I would never let him off. My eyes drilled into him, daring him to try.
“I remember. No need to look at me like that.”
Kyle smirked, then walked back toward his desk. Suspicious, I followed him with my eyes. He uncorked a vial and pressed it into my hand.
A shiver of disgust went through me at the sight of another bottle—it could’ve easily contained poison. But he said, “It’s a restorative. Drink it.”
As I swallowed, my throat bobbing, Kyle leaned casually on his desk and asked:
“So, what is it you want?”
I recalled my recent conversation with Richard.
“Soon, the case of Veronica’s false accusation will be reinvestigated. I know you’re desperate to escape quickly, but as long as the investigation is ongoing, the witch trial won’t reopen. You can take it easy for now.”
I had stared at Richard with wide eyes.
“How do you know that?”
“I asked someone outside for help. They owed me a favor.”
If what he said was true, I wouldn’t be executed right away. But getting a case reopened like that would require considerable influence.
“Who would agree to such a thing?”
“…A magistrate.”
“…!”
Richard had used his connections—for me. Not for his own survival, but for mine. That stunned me more than anything.
Regardless, this was a chance I couldn’t waste. If the reinvestigation proved my innocence, I could be released from Fortress.
I resolved to uncover the truth about the lord’s son’s death and clear my name in the upcoming retrial—the witch trial.
To do that, I had to make Kyle talk. He was the only one who knew what really happened that day.
I fixed him with a steady gaze.
“My wish is for you to tell me the truth.”
“…”
“Answer me honestly. Why did you kill the lord’s son?”
Kyle met my eyes with a calm expression. After a long silence, he tilted his head slightly. Finally, his lips parted, and his words struck like lightning from a clear sky.
“…Would you believe me if I said it was because I liked you?”
He had confessed not only the motive for murder, but also his feelings for me.
I was speechless. He killed the lord’s son… because of me? Because he liked me?
My thoughts scattered in disarray. I opened and closed my mouth soundlessly before managing to form words.
“…When you like someone, you kill people?”
My cautious question made Kyle give a short, incredulous laugh.
“Does anyone kill because they like someone? Locking them away, maybe.”
“So you were lying! Don’t joke—answer me seriously.”
I snapped in anger, but Kyle’s face went blank. His gaze deepened, steady and unyielding. Then, in a quiet voice, he murmured:
“I’m serious. You just don’t believe me.”
In his eyes, I saw possessiveness—the desire to make me his. His intense stare rooted me in place, leaving me unable to look away.
“You’re really saying you fell for me? Since when?”
“I never thought about it much. Probably from the moment I first saw you.”
He had often thrown out half-threatening advances before, but I’d always assumed they were traps—like poisoned goblets, not to be taken seriously. I had never once believed them genuine.
‘So he branded me a witch and threw me into Fortress…’
“…Just so he could own me?”
My mind went blank. Cold dread washed over me. I grabbed his shirt collar with both hands, the metal cuffs clinking at my wrists.
“What do you want from me? What am I supposed to do?”
“…”
Kyle’s hand came up and clasped mine against his chest. He could’ve brushed me off easily, but he didn’t. That only made me clutch his collar tighter.
“You branded me a witch just to have me!”
“You’ve already decided the answer. Why ask?”
His face was unreadable, devoid of expression. I shoved him with all my weight. He toppled backward onto the desk, scattering pens, ink bottles, and papers across the floor.
But neither of us looked away.
I leaned over him, almost straddling him, my voice dropping to a desperate whisper.
“What will it take for you to let me go? Is it me you want?”
I grabbed his limp hand and pressed it to my cheek. His large palm covered half my face and brushed against my lips. Without breaking eye contact, I rubbed my mouth against it.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You should’ve said so from the start. No need to frame me. We can undo all this, can’t we?”
His fingers tightened, cupping my face. His thumb brushed beneath my eye. Gently stroking my skin with his warm hand, Kyle asked in a low murmur:
“Can you really give me what I want?”
“Yes! Anything, just say it.”
My eyes gleamed with feverish desperation. Branded a murderer, condemned as a witch, and imprisoned in Fortress—I was willing to give anything to erase it all.
My life was already ruined, but I still wanted to live. If that was the price, so be it.
