Chapter 52
“Agh! My herbs… You damn snakes, get lost!”
No matter how wildly I waved my hands or stomped my feet, the snakes calmly moved away, only to bite my heel for revenge and disappear.
They would constantly ruin my herb garden. One time, I was bitten by a venomous snake and bedridden for days—that’s when I made up my mind.
To completely wipe out the snakes that crept in like they owned the place and destroyed my precious herbs.
Once I decided, I spent day and night researching snakes. Eventually, I became a full-fledged snake hunter.
The thrill of grabbing the slimy head of a snake right as it slithered between my legs, mouth wide open—it was indescribable.
Now that I think about it, those snakes remind me exactly of Brefni—sneaky and sly, always attacking from behind.
I mimicked snatching something from thin air and smiled.
If you have a strong heart, catching snakes is surprisingly simple.
Lure them with as much bait as possible, block all escape routes, and then—grab the head quickly and firmly to subdue them.
Since Brefni planted spies around me after the Founding Festival, he must’ve taken the bait, which was my fake hair-loss cure.
Lately, there’ve been rumors that he’s been staying indoors, avoiding public appearances.
It’s the perfect chance.
If I gather enough evidence and hit him all at once—like grabbing a snake’s head—I can bring down even the venomous Brefni in one blow.
And when that happens, Alex and Pierre will be left in the dust like dogs who lost their prey.
Smirking, I turned to the hallway corner and spotted a cluster of colorful flowers swaying in the wind through the window.
Butterflies fluttered among the flowers, drinking nectar—it looked like something out of a fairytale.
As I watched, Claude’s elegant image came to mind—he really was like a fairytale prince.
Sometimes, he’s cold and distant like the blue irises…
Other times, he’s so intense—like those fiery red roses—that it feels like I’ll melt just looking at him.
And tomorrow… We’ll share a room.
The thought made my head spin, but… I had no choice.
Since it’s a contract marriage, acting like a real couple will help avoid suspicion from others.
Besides, Pierre and Rachel will eventually return to the Duke’s mansion.
It’ll be far more painful to face those hateful people every day.
For the sake of clean revenge, this is definitely the better path.
I sighed and opened the lab door.
Right in front of the window, I saw the Harivdella flowers drying.
I gently crushed the fully dried petals into a fine powder and sealed it in a bottle.
Claude said he’d set up a lab for me at the palace, so I planned to take it with me and make medicine there.
Hmm… What else do I need?
I looked around and opened a drawer under the bookshelf.
This—I definitely need to take.
I smiled as I picked up a notebook where I’d collected articles and notes about Rachel and Alex.
Placing it on the desk, I opened another drawer.
A rotten smell hit me immediately—inside was a moldy mushroom, so rotten that it was unrecognizable.
Still, upon close inspection, it looked like a Madman’s Mushroom.
…What are you doing in here?
I pinched my nose with one hand and used tongs to pick up the mushroom and toss it aside.
Since I was at it, I decided to clean everything up and began opening drawers one by one.
Surprisingly, I found some useful things and set them aside.
Eventually, I got to the last drawer.
[Imperial Year 315]
Big red letters were written on a notebook.
It instantly brought back memories from five years ago—the late Empress’s funeral.
Blood-covered, nameless faces rolling on the ground.
Red blood mixing with rain.
I shook off the terrifying images in my head and flipped through the notebook.
That was when I was just getting interested in scrapbooking, so I had recorded almost every event from that year.
Rustle, rustle. My fingers froze mid-flip.
[The Mad Prince Claude de Berta Starts a Rebellion]
Just seeing that headline made my brows furrow.
Yes, he did act strangely that day, but starting a rebellion? That wasn’t true.
“Why… are you trying to protect your stupid father…”
I clearly remembered the guard’s words as Claude’s sword pierced his heart.
Wait a minute…
This article that painted Claude as a rebel—it came from The Voice of the Empire, a newspaper funded by the Second Prince and partially owned by Marquis Spiegel.
If that’s the case, wasn’t the motive behind this article too obvious?
I turned the page—but it was blank.
Why did I only paste the headline? There should’ve been a full article.
Frowning, I checked the notebook again.
Then, flutter—a folded piece of paper fell out.
***
“What? Aselin went to someone’s house?”
“Yes, the boy named Monte you mentioned. A mercenary came earlier, saying Sir Jeremy sent him, and handed me this.”
Rachel snatched the paper from the maid’s hand.
Her blue eyes widened as she scanned the contents.
“What is this? Aselin went to that house months ago! And where is Jeremy? Why did a mercenary show up here instead of him?”
“According to the mercenary, Sir Jeremy got caught while investigating the First Prince and is now locked in a tower in Erhardt…”
“What?! Er-Erhardt?!”
Crash! Rachel threw her glass and glared at her maid.
“You useless idiot! Is this how you handle things?!”
Rachel’s lips trembled with rage.
“If Jeremy talks, I’m finished. The First Prince will tear me limb from limb. And Aselin? After what she did to me at the wedding—throwing mud at me in front of everyone—she won’t let it slide!”
She clutched her head and rolled her eyes in panic.
How… how did Aselin even know about the old woman’s house? The only people who knew were me… Pierre… and the Second Prince…
No way. Did Pierre betray me? No, that’s impossible. He hates me because of those rumors about me and Alex, sure—but exposing the truth? That’d be suicide.
Rachel shook her head furiously.
She chewed her fingernails until they bled.
“Please calm down, miss. Even if the sky falls, there’s always a way. I actually had someone bring someone useful for you to see.”
Mila, her maid, opened the door.
A muscular man walked in, dragging a woman tied up with rope.
She had a gag in her mouth and kept sobbing, tears dripping down her cheeks.
Rachel’s face twisted in disgust.
“What’s this filthy girl?”
“I grabbed a maid from the First Prince’s castle, just in case. She’s supposed to help with the wedding tomorrow, so I figured she might come in handy. What should we do with her?”
Rachel went quiet and thought.
Then she broke into a bright smile, as if a flower had bloomed.
She lifted her hand slightly, motioning for Mila to come closer.
Mila leaned in, and Rachel whispered in her ear.
Mila grinned and gestured to the mercenary.
The man nodded and dragged the maid away.
Rachel remained alone.
She placed both hands on the desk and tilted her head.
Her silky blonde hair flowed like water.
She tapped a crystal ornament on the table with her finger.
The faint clinking filled the quiet room—until suddenly—
Rachel picked up the ornament and smashed it into her own face.
Again and again.
Spit.
Blood dripped from her mouth.
Rachel looked at herself in the mirror.
Not enough.
Whack. Whack.
She hit her body until bruises spread all over her skin.
She spat the blood from her mouth and smeared it around her lips.
There. Perfect.
“Ha… ha!”
She smiled wildly at the mirror.
Her face was covered in blood and bruises.
She looked like she was crying, but she was smiling too.
Bloody tears ran down her cheeks.
Poor Rachel.
You’ve suffered so much, hiding in this miserable room even though you did nothing wrong.
It’s all Aselin’s fault. Because of her, Alex and Pierre left me too!
So now—she’ll suffer just like I did.
The First Prince will be so disgusted, he’ll run far away.
He’ll never look at her again.
This time, I’ll be the one to ruin her wedding.
With a twisted, devilish grin, Rachel bit down on her blood-smeared lips.
