Chapter 16

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: A Cure and Its Cause
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#16

“Well, I can’t know the potential of the woman accompanying the Grand General, so I believe it’s too early to make a decision.”

Marquess Rutherford, having just entered the conference room, skillfully interjected as she took her seat. The duke who followed her in shot her a wry glance before gracefully sitting opposite her.

Unlike the day before, when the room had been packed to the gills, today there were empty seats scattered about.

The marquess surveyed her surroundings, noticed a common thread among the empty seats, and smirked. The other lords, seemingly having noticed as well, exchanged troubled glances.

About ten minutes later.

“Arsinoe has arrived.”

The main architect of the turmoil entered the quiet yet strangely excited conference room.

Should I stand, or should I not?

Marquess Rutherford’s deliberation ended when she saw Walter standing ramrod straight behind the woman. She concluded that, setting aside courtesy for the woman, it would be best to show respect to the Grand General.

As Rutherford rose to her feet and bowed, the other lords, led by Duke Witten, also stood and discreetly lowered their heads.

“It is good to see you all again.”

Lucy acknowledged their greeting with a slight nod and sat down.

Dressed in a wine-colored gown, she exuded a much more imposing and mature aura than the day before, whether due to her attire or her cool expression.

“It seems the master of the Twin Mountains cannot accept me as king.”

Seated in the chairman’s seat, Lucy tapped the armrest and spoke in a light tone.

The master of the Twin Mountains.

It was a moniker for the head of the Kill duchy. The empty seats belonged to nobles with strong ties to Duke Kill. Lucy looked at the vacant chairs and smiled.

“As I said yesterday, those who have left will be deemed traitors and will receive their due punishment. Those who remain, I will trust as loyalists who support me. If any object to this, speak now.”

“I have a question.”

To everyone’s surprise, Marquess Rutherford raised her hand with a composed expression. Amid the astonished gazes, Lucy gave a silent nod.

“What is your question, Lady Rutherford?”

“We only just met Your Majesty yesterday. You may know us well, but we do not know you. Even an arranged marriage requires at least three meetings. I would like to ask if it is truly right to speak of loyalty to Your Majesty in this state.”

At the blatantly opportunistic remark, Duke Witten clicked his tongue, looking caught off guard. Lucy, on the other hand, curved her lips into an interested smile.

*Tell me about yourself, and I’ll be loyal.*

For the nobles who didn’t know Lucy, it was a golden opportunity to learn about her, and for Lucy, it was a question that allowed her to naturally explain herself.

Lucy opened her mouth, a friendly smile on her face.

“I trust you all know of my parentage… I was in the detached palace until I was twelve, and thinking I might be of service to the country, I entered the military academy. After graduating, I was briefly stationed in Pomnos.”

At the mention of the military academy, Rutherford’s eyes lit up. She had wondered where Lucy and Walter had met, and it seemed the academy was the connection.

The military academy.

She was suddenly reminded of the child from a marquess’s family for whom she was a godmother. They were of a similar age and both had attended the academy; perhaps that child and Lucy were even schoolmates.

“Isn’t Pomnos a city of the Raphi? May I ask why you went to such a distant place?”

She had heard rumors that the beloved concubine and her daughter had fled somewhere, but it was the first she’d heard of them ending up in Pomnos.

At Rutherford’s question, Lucy replied with a bitter smile.

“It is shameful for me to say, but the former king’s obsession with my mother was… unusual, so we fled to Pomnos. It was the only way to live away from the royal palace. I thought I would never set foot in Parnas again, but… I was compelled to stand here by the Grand General’s entreaty.”

As Lucy murmured with seeming regret, her face showed not a speck of greed for the throne. The gaze Rutherford fixed on her softened considerably.

When she thought about it, she was just a young lady who had barely crossed into adulthood.

She had never been educated to be a monarch, and her mother had been secretly oppressed by the royal family.

That a young lady, untouched by the world, had become a soldier for her country, then fled the royal family for her mother, only to be dragged back to this position because there was no one else to inherit the throne…

Perhaps the authoritative demeanor she had shown yesterday was her desperate attempt to survive in this place where she had no one to protect her.

Even now, her struggle to appear solemn while playing the role of a king she was ill-suited for reminded Rutherford of her own bedridden eldest daughter.

“How is Your Majesty’s mother?”

Someone at the end of the table posed a question. Lucy answered, her smile unwavering.

“My mother is still in Pomnos. She is taking care of the Raphi children.”

“Why did Your Majesty come alone?”

“I urged her to come with me, but she refused, saying her presence would cause misunderstandings and that she did not wish to be seen as a wicked person. Looking back now, I believe it was a wise decision.”

The noble who had asked the question fell silent, looking abashed.

The speculation that a pretty-faced concubine was using her daughter to control the country vanished like old dust being swept away.

“Having said all this, I feel ashamed of what an unremarkable person I am. It would have been wonderful if the Crown Prince were still alive… But as we were born of the same blood, I will strive to think and act as a person befitting the throne.”

As she concluded her words with humility, the nobles’ cold gazes all vanished. All that remained were expressions of pity for the young lady who had to bear such a heavy burden.

“Has your question been answered, Lady Rutherford?”

“…It is more than enough.”

“That is enough reminiscing about myself. Let us move on to the main topic.”

Lucy gestured to the table and nodded her head. Walter approached the door and gave instructions to the soldiers.

A moment later, soldiers entered with several small silver trays and placed one before each of the lords.

On each tray lay six or seven herbs and dried fruits. Beside them was a palm-sized piece of paper with a recipe, listing the names of the herbs and their mixing ratios.

“Lady Rutherford.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“I heard your eldest daughter’s illness is particularly severe. Do you remember her initial symptoms?”

Rutherford bit her lip and answered with a dark expression.

“The very first… was a tremor in her hands. My daughter doesn't touch alcohol, so I couldn't understand it and called the personal physician. He diagnosed it as a neurological issue, and I sent her away to recuperate…”

“And then?”

“Blisters formed on her skin, and her hair began to fall out. Now, she is so weak she cannot move from her bed.”

“Everyone likely started with similar symptoms. After that, fingernails and toenails fall out, speech becomes slurred, and memory fades.”

Lucy, who had been carefully examining the herbs on the tray, lifted the recipe and gave it a little shake.

“Still, your daughter’s illness is not too advanced. If you prepare the medicine according to this, she will recover quickly.”

Realizing what the tray held, Rutherford’s eyes widened, and she held her breath.

Her trembling hands fumbled with the herbs as she rapidly glanced between the recipe and the faces of the other nobles. They too were murmuring to themselves in disbelief.

“To think this can truly cure the illness…”

“You mean to say this plague can be suppressed with such paltry herbs?”

“Perhaps we should try it before we decide…”

“How can you speak of eating it so rashly, without knowing what it is?”

A mix of doubt and elation, worry and joy, erupted. Rutherford, who had been breathlessly reading the recipe, moved her lips and finally managed to speak.

“Can I really… can I truly save my daughter by making this medicine?”

“If you have doubts, you may leave this instant and give her the medicine. It will take some time, but an illness of that degree will be fully cured in a couple of months. And the most important precaution is this.”

Lucy reached into her clothes and pulled out a finger-sized glass vial.

Inside the vial was a silver liquid that gave off a brilliant reflection. After gazing at it for a moment, Lucy raised the vial high above the table.

The viscous liquid sloshed back and forth with her movement. The faces of the lords watching it slowly turned ashen.

“It seems quite a few of you are familiar with this. To put it simply, this liquid is the cause of the illness. Do not use it ever again.”

⚜ ⚜ ⚜

Though the meeting had ended more than ten minutes ago, Vanessa Rutherford remained seated, staring blankly into space.

She wasn’t the only one. In the scattered empty seats, many other nobles were staring at the herbs with a similar entranced expression or poring over the recipes.

Unable to watch any longer, Viscountess Elizabeth Comte took Rutherford’s arm and spoke to her.

“Lady Rutherford. What are you thinking so deeply about?”

“……Ah, yes. The meeting is already over. Yes. I’ll get up.”

“You seem to be in a daze. Shall I have someone bring you some water?”

Rutherford said she was fine and rose from her seat. However, the way she staggered to her feet looked anything but fine.

Viscountess Comte had her sit back down and continued in a soothing tone.

“It’s understandable to be shocked. That medicine was rumored to be wonderful for one’s beauty. It was used in many cosmetics… To think such an expensive item was the cause of the illness. Really. I’m speechless.”

The liquid Lucy had shown them was a famous elixir rumored to be good for beauty and health.

It was said to be extremely difficult to extract, so it was sold only in small quantities, and its price was astronomical. Nevertheless, buoyed by rumors that applying it made one’s skin fair and lovely, it had spread like a trend among the nobility.

“Come to think of it, I believe the late king also drank that medicine from time to time… Could that have been the cause of his death?”

“He drank a liquid that caused illness just by touching it, didn’t he? He took so much of it, calling it an elixir of immortality… Later, he even brought in a raw material called cinnabar or something, burned it whole, and inhaled the vapors.”

There was no way the royal family would have missed the rumors about the elixir. After all, the first queen was the one who had made such a fuss, claiming it made her skin turn white.

Perhaps it was because the king’s concubine had remarkably fair skin.

The queens were strangely obsessed with fair skin. They made the young princes and princesses drink and apply the silver liquid, and the sicker they became, the more they urged them to consume it.

And that was…