CHAPTER 127……………………………………..
Bitter End (6)
Contrary to what Adele had expected—that Sir Frances would leave promptly after the escort duty—he not only followed her all the way to the emperor’s bedchamber, but also watched her work. Leaning against the partition separating the reception room from the bedroom, his subtle gaze made Adele’s heart flutter slightly.
“Maybe he’s actually interested in me?”
She had heard that some men, being more naive than women, might not express their feelings properly. Adele thought Sir Frances could be one of those men. Of course, considering his popularity with women, the odds were slim—but still.
Excitement tinged Adele’s fingertips as she tidied the emperor’s bedding.
Yet, the chatter of the maids earlier lingered in her mind. She could have dismissed their idle gossip as thoughtless prattle.
“Maybe he gave the order himself because the results weren’t satisfactory. Adele, you do have a tendency to be a bit careless, don’t you?”
Her hands, which had been moving smoothly and calmly, froze. The thought that she might have poisoned His Majesty! It was absurd.
Shaking her head to dispel the thought, Adele heard a faint groan.
“Ugh…”
Her eyes widened as she noticed the emperor’s previously limp hand twitching.
“Your Majesty, are you coming to?”
At her voice, the emperor’s eyes snapped open, and he glanced around. His gaze was hazy and unclear.
“Your Majesty!”
When Adele called again, his eyes landed on her. Without reason, the emperor furrowed his brow sharply and grabbed her wrist.
The grip was so strong, just as the maids had warned, that Adele let out a small, involuntary scream. Though short, it was enough to alert Sir Frances, who was standing at the doorway.
“Milady!”
Rushing forward, Sir Frances wrenched the emperor’s hand off Adele’s wrist with sheer force. His rough, fierce hands looked almost cruel, but Adele had no energy to notice—she was focused on her aching wrist.
“Are you all right?”
“I… I’m fine.”
Adele’s gaze returned to the emperor.
Had he been even slightly sane, he would have shouted at Adele or Sir Frances for pushing him back. But he only shuddered as if in convulsions.
Growing anxious, Adele looked at Sir Frances.
“We should call a physician.”
“I’ll send someone. Stay back, milady—it could be dangerous.”
Sir Frances, who had been checking her wrist, glared at the emperor one last time before heading down the corridor.
Clenching his teeth as if in pain, the emperor clawed at the air, seeking something to grasp.
Feeling threatened rather than sympathetic at his frantic movements, Adele stepped back again.
Something clinked under her foot as she hesitated backward. Frowning, she bent down and picked it up from the floor.
“This is…”
It was an earring: obsidian surrounded by diamonds, one Adele recognized. Hildegard often wore it because she liked it.
“Milady, what is this?”
Sir Frances, having returned unnoticed, peered over Adele’s shoulder at the earring.
“It’s the empress’s earring… but why—?”
Adele bit her lip as she responded, almost reflexively. The maid’s words about seeing the empress poison the emperor’s drinking water during that eerie night flashed through her mind.
Remembering the careless way the maids speculated about her involvement sent a wave of inexplicable anxiety through Adele. She had become a maid in the empress’s service simply to marry a good man—she had no desire to be entangled in politics.
“Are you sure this belongs to the empress?”
Adele nodded at Sir Frances’s question, and his expression grew graver.
Resting his chin on his hand, Sir Frances glanced toward the door. Although he had ordered a physician, it seemed it would take some time for one to arrive, given the rainy, stormy weather.
“This is serious. Listen carefully, milady.”
His gaze, steady yet gentle, fixed on Adele. Even amidst the chaos, his gray eyes were breathtaking enough to make her heart skip.
Adele watched, almost hypnotized, as he licked his dry lips—a simple action that somehow seemed elegant. Sir Frances then took her hands in his.
“Have you heard the dark rumors circulating in the palace lately?”
“I… I’m not sure what you mean.”
“A few days ago, an unidentifiable corpse was found in the Tene River…”
At the word “corpse,” Adele stole a glance at the emperor. He had now stopped struggling, lying sprawled on the bed. His chest rose and fell, so he seemed to be alive—for now.
“The guards concluded that it was the corpse of a man named Davi, who supposedly attempted to poison the emperor, and closed the case. But it’s very suspicious. There was nothing on the body to confirm identity—what exactly did the guards use to make that conclusion?”
Adele shook her head unconsciously, then felt a pang of self-reproach. She needed to stay sharp, but she found herself drawn into Sir Frances’s words.
He continued, still smiling softly:
“People are whispering that the empress is surely involved. Otherwise, why would the emperor suddenly deteriorate right after the wedding? Davi would have no reason to harm the emperor unless he had gone mad. They also suspect your involvement, Adele.”
Adele’s expression darkened. She had previously thought this was only a matter of a few gossiping maids, but now it was a palace-wide rumor.
The danger of rumors is that even falsehoods, when repeated widely, are treated as fact.
She had never touched His Majesty, but her status as the empress’s attendant was enough to make her a suspect. If true, not only would she be implicated, but her family, the Sevillas, could face ruin.
All Adele had wanted was to become an attendant to the empress so she could marry a respectable man and honor her family—but now everything was in jeopardy.
A tear ran down her delicate cheek.
“It’s not me!”
Clenching her fists, she shook her head. The sharp pin of the earring dug into her palm, but she felt nothing.
“I trust you, milady, but the problem is that the world will not. Even if your innocence is clear, your position as an attendant cannot completely absolve you.”
Shaken, Adele shook her head.
“No. I did this only for my family.”
“I understand. Fortunately, I have an idea—your only way out of this.”
“What… is it?”
“Take this earring directly to the Duke of Syde.”
“The Duke of Syde?”
Adele knew that the Duke had a famously strained relationship with the current emperor.
Before becoming captain of the palace guard, she recalled hearing that Sir Frances had served the Syde family as a knight. Last spring, many of the duke’s knights were absorbed into the imperial guard at the emperor’s request.
Though Sir Frances had been an ordinary knight, he quickly caught the emperor’s eye and was appointed captain of the guard. As a member of the Syde household, and the second son of the Alten family, known for loyalty to the throne, his tall, confident, and straightforward demeanor had impressed the emperor.
But what if all of this—everything—was part of a plan?
A shadow of doubt crossed Adele’s face for the first time.
Whether he noticed or not, Sir Frances continued:
“You simply explain that you found this earring in His Majesty’s bedchamber, exactly as it is.”
Adele bit her lip, bowing her head. If that alone could save her family and herself, it seemed simple enough.
But what if she was walking into a trap set by the Duke of Syde and Sir Frances?
As she hesitated, she heard heavy footsteps approaching.
“It must be the physician.”
