I Reincarnated as the Villainess’ Daughter – Chapter 130
Was it about the length of a finger joint? The bottle was tiny. Its craftsmanship was beautiful, but not extraordinary enough to be called the work of a master artisan. The liquid inside was colorless and transparent, looking no more special than plain water. Yet, Cardia treated it as if it were her most precious treasure.
About a third of the bottle was empty, and each time Cardia gently shook it, the surface of the liquid rippled slightly.
“This is what you’ll use.”
It was a special drug that Cardia always carried in secret.
“Just like last time.”
The substance was poison. Its effect was immediate, and if administered over a period in small doses, it could even make the victim gradually weaken and die, giving the appearance of a lingering illness.
“…Last time…”
“I mean Arita.”
She was speaking of Arita, Tearoha’s biological mother and the former empress. Alteo’s expression tightened slightly. Back then, he had been only eleven years old. At an age when he barely understood death, being forced to revisit something he had passively allowed was far from pleasant.
Yet, what Cardia did—both then and now—ultimately benefited Alteo. After Arita’s death, Cardia became empress, gradually solidifying Alteo’s legitimacy. If he took no action now, his position would plummet under the influence of Rosahill and Tearoha.
Alteo accepted the bottle, pretending to have no choice.
“…How should I administer it?”
“Well, above all, it must be done in secret,” Cardia said with a sly smile.
Some might grow suspicious once Tearoha died, but that would be dealt with later. The dead speak no words, and excuses could be made afterward. Tearoha’s mother had also died young, so they could fabricate a story about hereditary illness or some other explanation.
“Understood.”
Alteo held the bottle up to the chandelier light. The liquid was colorless and transparent. With just this, anyone could be killed instantly—even the renowned Tearoha.
“….”
Alteo seemed lost in thought for a moment. Finally, he looked up at Cardia.
“However, there is someone we must deal with before Tearoha.”
He shook the bottle slightly as he pictured the young lady of Rosahill. His gaze had grown cold and unnerving.
The imperial palace was hosting a more extravagant banquet than ever before. This was the official first celebration of Princess Laila’s engagement to the Second Prince, Tearoha. A grand event orchestrated by both Rosahill and the palace, it was as lavish and magnificent as a feast for the gods.
Guests flooded in, laughter and the scent of champagne filling the hall. The chatter was so lively that one had to strain to hear the person next to them.
In one corner stood the Third Prince, Dietmiel, aged fifteen, and the Fourth Prince, Piater, aged twelve. As members of the royal family, they had no choice but to attend, but their faces showed little interest, and few dared approach them. Compared to the First Prince, Alteo, and the Second Prince, Tearoha, their influence was minimal, and they were nearly sidelined in the succession struggle.
On one side, a weary emperor sat atop his throne, observing the guests. On the other, Empress Cardia chatted with others. She laughed brightly, appearing innocent and charming, yet what she truly enjoyed was subtly testing her power under the guise of carefree behavior. Everyone who knew her story understood: formerly the Princess of Peregrine, she had always been willful and arrogant, and even as empress, her personality had not changed. To stand by her side, one had to either cater to her whims or prove genuinely useful to her or her family. Despite that, she was undeniably one of the most powerful figures in the palace, and people always surrounded her.
Nearby, First Prince Alteo was also present. To solidify his ties with maternal relatives, he smiled and spoke with each one individually.
Normally, his fiancée, Lupe, should have been present, but she had deliberately skipped the banquet due to feeling unwell. Alteo found it slightly irritating, but he had no choice but to tolerate it—after all, he had requested her assistance with a certain matter.
Still, this banquet was ultimately for celebrating Princess Laila and Tearoha Ulysses’ engagement. Today belonged to them, and no one could dispute it.
Laila, in a vivid azure gown, and Tearoha, in a black uniform, stood at the center of the hall. Guests came forward to offer congratulations.
The two looked genuinely happy. Their smiles were effortless, not a façade. On their left hands, their engagement rings sparkled, a testament to their firm bond.
Guests expressed admiration:
“Princess Laila and Prince Tearoha are such a perfect match!”
“A magical couple—how wonderful!”
“I’ve always thought you two suited each other!”
Like golden bubbles overflowing from freshly poured champagne, the air around them was filled with joy and excitement.
Alteo, watching with eyes full of envy, recalled the poison Cardia had given him. His anger simmered and cleared his mind slightly, allowing a smile to form.
A servant passed by at that moment, and Alteo called him over, grabbing two glasses of pink champagne.
The poison was colorless, tasteless, and odorless, making it impossible for anyone to notice until the effects set in.
Laila and Tearoha were momentarily separated in conversation. Tearoha was led away by another guest, while Laila continued chatting with others. This was Alteo’s opportunity. Without hesitation, he approached her.
“Princess Laila.”
“…Prince Alteo, good evening.”
Laila seemed somewhat displeased to see him but forced a polite smile. Alteo shrugged.
“Good evening. I sincerely congratulate you on your engagement.”
“Thank you, Prince.”
Though smiling, Laila did not continue the conversation. It was a clear signal: enough, go away. Yet Alteo spoke as if he hadn’t noticed.
“By the way, Princess Laila…”
“Yes?”
“Aren’t you thirsty?”
Alteo held a glass of pink champagne in each hand, as if deliberately offering one to her. Laila’s hands were empty.
“A small gesture for my younger brother’s fiancée.”
“Thank you.”
Despite her displeasure, Laila had to accept it. As a princess, refusing a courtesy from the First Prince in public was unthinkable.
When Laila extended her hand, Alteo offered the glass in his left hand, a natural movement, as if he had prepared it. She hesitated for a moment.
“What are you waiting for? Take it.”
“…Ah, yes.”
Finally, Laila accepted the glass, and Alteo smiled.
The chandelier-lit hall was slightly dizzying, the crowd overwhelming, voices filling every corner.
Before me stood Prince Alteo.
“What are you waiting for? Take it.”
He was offering me the champagne. As I reached out, he naturally handed me the glass from his left hand.
Watching him, a question arose in my mind.
‘Was Alteo always left-handed?’
People tend to hand objects with their dominant hand, especially fragile items like a champagne glass. Yet Alteo seemed to have deliberately used his left hand for me.
When I paused, he shook the glass slightly, urging me to take it.
“…Ah, yes.”
Though something felt off, I took the glass he offered.
Alteo smiled. My heart skipped a beat at that smile.
‘Wait.’
Something felt strange, dangerous. Have I ever been offered a drink by him before? In that brief moment, I racked my brain.
The answer: ‘No.’
“…Wait, wait a moment.”
My voice was strained. Alteo looked at me, raising the glass to his lips. I forced a smile.
“Would you mind switching glasses with me?”
“….”
Alteo’s expression was peculiar, indescribable.
“That glass looks tastier somehow. Strange, right?”
People around us seemed to think I was joking.
“Haha, Princess Laila, you think that glass looks better?”
“Do you like rosé champagne?”
I laughed along with the crowd. Alteo said nothing.
Everyone around was watching. Just as I had accepted his glass, he could not refuse my request. Besides, as a lady, it was his duty to comply.
Alteo slowly reached out, taking my glass, and handed me his instead.
I brought the glass to my lips and tasted the champagne. Sweet pink rosé, the aroma spreading, bubbles popping in my mouth.
Alteo silently watched the glass, his expression unreadable.
Then, he lifted his own glass.
