Chapter 116
“Fortunately, this wine is sweet like juice and very mild. Even Her Highness Titania should have no trouble drinking it.”
Though her tone was soft, almost motherly, Cleo’s eyes flashed with burning intensity.
“Just look—this dress I’m wearing is made from the very fabric Titania gifted me. Imagine, she gave something so precious not to the Empress, not even to her own mother, but to me. How could I ever repay such kindness?”
Titania smiled brightly, her tone pure and cheerful.
“Your Highness Cleo, simply showing me your beauty is more than enough of a reward. Her Majesty the Empress must preserve her dignity, and Lady Elaine is still unwell. You’re the only one who can truly bring joy to His Majesty tonight. I’m only doing my best to be of help to you.”
Cleo’s smile froze. A chill crept into her eyes.
All around them, nobles raised their glasses. The Emperor lifted his first, giving a short toast. Everyone followed, touching the rim of the glass to their lips.
Cleo’s gaze didn’t leave Titania. Titania beamed and drained her glass without hesitation.
Cleo almost sighed. Too bad I didn’t lace that glass with real poison.
She had decided against it — there were too many eyes watching, and getting rid of the body afterward would’ve been troublesome. Still, she had slipped a mild laxative into the princess’s drink. She could already picture Titania’s pale face as she ran to the bathroom.
Besides, there was another highlight to look forward to. Elaine was supposed to publicly ask the Emperor to let her retire to the countryside to “recover her health” — taking her daughter with her, of course. Perhaps tonight would be the last time Cleo had to see that infuriating face.
Then—
Crash!
A glass shattered nearby. A flustered maid stammered apologies while a furious noblewoman snapped at her. Cleo barely spared the scene a glance and dismissed it as trivial.
But the real problem arose elsewhere.
“Lady Elaine!”
Cleo turned sharply. Elaine—who had merely been pretending to sip her drink—suddenly went limp and collapsed.
“E–Elaine?! What’s happening!”
The Emperor leapt up in panic, holding her in his arms. But before anyone could react—
The Empress fell next.
“Mother!” Adrian rushed forward, catching her just in time.
“Her Majesty! Call the royal physician! Quickly!”
“W–What is this…”
“Someone poisoned the wine!”
“That’s impossible!” Cleo shouted before she could stop herself.
It was impossible. She had overseen every step of the preparations. Every dish, every glass, every drop of wine had passed her inspection. Especially the Emperor’s toast glasses — she had been meticulous. Elaine’s had been filled with little more than water, and the Empress’s was just ordinary wine.
How—?
Her eyes snapped toward Titania.
Titania looked stricken, almost tearful, pacing around Elaine as if in distress.
…Could it be that she wasn’t behind it?
Cleo’s thoughts tangled.
“Your Majesty! Are you unharmed?”
“I’m fine—but the Empress, and Elaine…!”
The royal physician arrived, bending over the two fallen women. After a moment’s examination, he declared that their lives were not in danger.
A priest arrived soon after, performing blessings and minor healing spells. Still, neither woman awoke. Their breathing was calm, their faces serene — as if merely in a deep sleep.
The mood in the hall plummeted into dread. Some nobles eyed their own glasses with suspicion. The royal guards tightened their ranks around the Emperor.
Then Adrian shouted:
“Your Majesty! My mother has been attacked by a vile curse!”
Gasps rippled through the room. Adrian lifted the Empress’s sleeve. Her hand, at first glance normal, showed blackened fingernails — like she’d been touched by poison.
Immediately Titania darted forward and took Elaine’s hand for everyone to see. The same dark discoloration marked her fingertips.
“Y–Your Majesty,” Titania cried, trembling, “Elaine too…! What should we do? Why won’t they wake?”
Cleo bit her lip until she tasted blood.
So that’s your play…
Of course — this was a setup. She was the one who organized the entire banquet, so she would be the natural scapegoat.
“Your Majesty!” Cleo’s voice rang out. “This ill omen cannot go unpunished! We must secure every glass and begin an immediate investigation—”
“Your Majesty!”
Titania dropped to her knees before the Emperor.
Cleo’s instincts screamed. Don’t let her speak!
“Princess! What are you doing? This is no time for theatrics!” Cleo barked.
“Your Majesty, please—save my mother!”
Tears welled in Titania’s eyes, her frail body trembling pitifully. The Emperor, dazed by the chaos, focused on her tear-streaked face and regained his senses.
“S–Save her? What do you mean?”
“The priests and doctors can’t wake them, Your Majesty! It must be a curse. If we don’t break it soon…” Titania’s voice cracked, “…Elaine won’t survive…”
Her tears fell like pearls. Her desperate plea silenced the hall.
Cleo clenched her teeth hard.
That cursed word again — “curse”! What convenient magic! Just cry ‘curse’ and everyone forgets logic!
But there it was — the faint golden glow of the sword at Titania’s waist. The same sacred weapon that had turned monsters to ash before their eyes. The Emperor’s expression shifted.
“Titania,” he said slowly, “do you have some idea what’s happened?”
“You remember the gift I presented to Your Majesty.”
“The sacred platter… yes.”
“If we take the World Tree leaf stored within it and give it to them, it should break the curse. Whatever afflicted them, the divine energy in that leaf will drive it away. But…” she hesitated delicately, “…that was meant as a gift to bless Your Majesty’s long life…”
The Emperor hesitated for barely a second before raising his voice.
“What nonsense! What is a husband who hesitates to save his wife? Bring the platter! At once!”
“Yes, Your Majesty!”
Soon, attendants carried in the holy vessel. The priest crushed the shining leaf and mixed it into consecrated water. Its fragrance filled the air. Bits of the leaf were carefully placed into each woman’s mouth.
Moments later, both women stirred.
“Mother!” Adrian cried, his voice breaking. Nobles murmured in awe at the sight of the dutiful son.
Titania knelt by Elaine’s side, brushing her gown with trembling fingers, tears streaming down her face.
Before long, the Empress and Elaine both awoke, the black marks on their fingers fading away as though they’d never existed. The priest and physician examined them again and confirmed that they were stable.
Relief rippled through the hall.
“Both Her Majesty and dear Elaine are safe…” Cleo said, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief as she approached Elaine. “I was so frightened. Truly, what a miracle. Elaine, are you quite well?”
She took Elaine’s hand. It was cold, lifeless. Cleo whispered quietly so no one else could hear.
“Can we proceed with the plan?”
Elaine gave a small nod. That was all Cleo needed.
Good. She didn’t betray me.
Whatever trick the other side had pulled—poison, curse, or illusion—it didn’t matter. Without proof, no one could be accused tonight.
And their main goal remained unchanged: Elaine’s official request to leave the palace for recovery.
After such a “terrifying incident,” who would deny a frail woman’s plea to rest? Especially when she asked to take her daughter along.
Clever girl, Titania, Cleo thought grimly. You’ve just made it easier for us.
She composed herself and began to speak.
“Your Majesty, if I may…”
But at that moment, the chamberlain burst into the hall, out of breath. He whispered something urgently into the Emperor’s ear.
The Emperor’s eyes widened in surprise. After a brief exchange, he nodded slowly, his face unreadable.
Cleo’s heart sank with dread.
What now? she thought. Wasn’t it over already?
