Episode 13
Grand Duke Seres’s knight commander and chief aide, Linburton.
As the person who served closest to the Grand Duke, he was known to be exceedingly busy.
Yet lately, he had been running into Melissa almost every single day.
‘I must be really lucky.’
While Melissa once again counted her blessings, Linburton’s face was growing more and more distorted by the second.
Why is she smiling like that again?
Could it be… that she’s seen through my plan and is mocking me?
‘…No.’
Impossible.
If that were the case, she would’ve glared at me sharply or smiled with malicious intent—not grinned like a clueless fool.
Still, if she’s acting so carefree, that must mean all the traps I set up this morning have failed.
Linburton’s mind flashed back to the document he’d written a week ago:
“101 Ways to Expel Melissa”, abbreviated as Mel-Expel Law (Melchu-beop).
Today’s attempt was number 36 — “Scatter the Star Coral.”
So that Demius wouldn’t catch on, he had personally stolen Melissa’s shoes and clothes, meticulously embedded the sharp coral pieces one by one, and ordered an unsuspecting servant to return them to her room.
Yet seeing her perfectly fine now made it clear: this attempt had failed too.
That damned stray cat.
A sharp pain shot up from his stomach; Linburton rubbed his solar plexus irritably.
He’d been working like a spy under Demius’s watchful eyes, waiting for the right opportunity, and now he was already in the 30s of his “Melchu-beop” list—with every single one ending in failure.
Could his whole strategy have been wrong from the start?
As the swamp of self-doubt threatened to swallow him, Linburton tightened his grip on the small basket in his hands and steadied his breathing.
No. Not this time.
He couldn’t afford another failure.
This one, he would execute personally.
Forcing a strained smile, he spoke.
“Good to hear that you’re well. By the way, since we’ve run into each other—would you care to try one of these?”
“What’s that?”
Melissa’s eyes rounded in curiosity. Linburton slightly lifted the cloth covering the basket.
“Cookies.”
“Oh my…”
Tears of gratitude seemed to glimmer in Melissa’s eyes.
“You’re giving these to me?”
“I’m… handing them out to anyone I happen to meet. Pure coincidence.”
Not even a dog would buy that lie.
But if she realized she was the target, she’d refuse to eat it. That’s why he had prepared that excuse in advance.
“Oh my.”
Melissa was genuinely touched.
To think he was kindly handing out cookies to everyone he met—what a thoughtful man!
“I’ll enjoy it!”
Melissa happily picked up a cookie with eager fingers.
Rustle. The cookie passed through the air toward her mouth. Linburton’s eyes followed its path intently.
Crunch.
As soon as it disappeared between her lips, Linburton’s mouth curled into a triumphant smile.
Foolish girl.
To eat something without even questioning if it might be poisoned…
Of course, he hadn’t used any lethal poison—that would raise suspicions about the Grand Duchy’s safety.
But the ingredients were something that could make a person wish they were dead instead.
Just as a wicked grin spread across Linburton’s face—
“Oh my!”
Melissa suddenly gasped, eyes wide.
Ah, immediate reaction. Perfect.
Linburton’s smile deepened in satisfaction.
But then—her eyes began to sparkle.
“This flavor is so fascinating!”
Melissa exclaimed, her cheeks flushed pink.
“It’s so spicy it sets your whole mouth on fire, yet also tangy like lemon—and there’s this earthy, funky, and oddly addictive taste! I’ve never had a cookie like this in my life!”
Clasping both hands together, she described the “symphony of flavors” dancing on her tongue, then turned to Linburton with a bright, pleading gaze.
“Please, you must share the recipe with me!”
…What?
Linburton blinked, completely thrown off.
Those cookies had been made with ingredients no sane person would consider edible—
A fruit so pungent it could make one gag from a single whiff, a bizarre tropical produce that sent ordinary people fleeing at the smell, and even fermented fish paste aged for years ground directly into the dough.
It was practically a punishment disguised as pastry.
And yet she was praising it?
Did the chef swap the ingredients?
Driven by suspicion, Linburton broke off a small piece and put it in his mouth.
“—Urgh!”
The nausea hit instantly. He nearly gagged but forced it down.
Gulp.
Even as it slid painfully down his throat, his digestive tract screamed in protest.
How on earth could that girl eat this and stay perfectly fine?
While Linburton covered his mouth, bewildered, Melissa clapped her hands together as if remembering something.
“Oh, right! I have something for you too.”
Originally, it was meant for Demius, but she could always make another later.
She rummaged through the pouch at her waist and suddenly held something out.
“A return gift!”
“…A gift?”
Suspicion flickered in Linburton’s eyes.
Melissa handed him what appeared to be an ordinary cloth pouch—round, decorated with dainty floral fabric and tied neatly with a ribbon.
As Linburton squinted at it in doubt, Melissa continued shyly,
“I made it using the ingredients you gave me a few days ago.”
…Ingredients?
He froze. He’d never given her any such thing.
Wait. Think.
Melissa rarely lied outright.
So what could she be referring to?
As he replayed the events of the last few days, Linburton’s complexion suddenly turned white.
No… it can’t be…
Snatching the pouch hastily, he untied the ribbon.
“—Hiiik!!”
A strangled scream escaped him.
Through the loosened fabric, something dark and twitching slipped out.
“Oh my, I didn’t expect you’d be so impressed!”
Melissa covered her flushed cheeks with one hand, delighted.
“It turned out quite well, didn’t it?”
Insane.
Linburton stared, trembling, at the grotesque contents wriggling in his palm—or rather, what used to be living things.
Thin antennae. Spiky legs.
A bundle of desiccated, twisted, crunchy insects rustled between the floral patterns of the pouch.
“Th-these are…?”
“They’re a gift!”
…A gift?
Linburton’s eyes twitched violently as the list of Melchu-beop flashed through his mind, stopping at one particular number.
Method #28: “Insect Release.”
Two days ago—using “pest control” as an excuse—he had entered Demius’s room, and upon finding Melissa there, he had released a swarm of bugs he’d prepared in advance.
‘Whoops, I dropped them!’
He had pretended it was an accident, but inside he had been grinning as the insects scattered across the room.
Forgive me, my lord, he had thought. This is all for your future happiness.
At the time, Melissa had covered her mouth in shock—her reaction had seemed perfect.
He had even offered, feigning concern:
‘If you need help cleaning, I’ll send a servant later.’
Of course, he’d planned to “help” only late at night, when Demius might return.
He had chuckled inwardly at his own wicked cleverness.
But now—
Had she actually meant it when she said “Thank you”?
As he remembered scratching his back the whole walk down the hall that day—itchy, as if something were crawling under his clothes—Linburton’s entire spine went cold.
Could it be… she hadn’t been polite—she had been grateful?
