Chapter 8

“My head… it hurts.”

My head was spinning. I scraped together every bit of memory buried in the back of my mind.

‘Calm down, Lepina Clies. Sort things out. The one who drank the poison wasn’t me— it was Evan. I just have to make the antidote. I’ve played the game. Calm down. Gather information. Think. I can make it.’

I murmured the words with my face buried in my hands, as if reciting a spell.

But reality wasn’t merciful.

To create the antidote, I would have to discover new herbs and figure out the recipe. Lying here wouldn’t magically solve anything. If that were the case, Lepina would’ve recovered ages ago in the game. Not a single physician managed to cure Lepina, who had been poisoned by the Alosi plant.

Only the player—the heroine—ever made the antidote.

I made up my mind. I would save Evan.

It had been more than ten years, but if I organized my memories carefully, I believed—no, I had to believe—that I could make the antidote. And I had to find her, the player, the heroine. I remembered exactly which village she lived in.

Piote’s bad ending was the day Lepina died. Her age then was eighteen—meaning I had six years of leeway.

***

“Is our lady truly all right? How is she?”

I half-listened to Mary fussing beside me while the family doctor carefully examined my pulse.

“Let me take a look at your throat, my lady.”

“Ahh.”

I opened my mouth as instructed. When Evan shoved his fingers down my throat to make me vomit, I’d been scratched, and as the poison went down and came back up, my esophagus had torn.

The poison was strong—strong enough to rot organs. Fortunately, thanks to quick action, it hadn’t entered my bloodstream.

It helped that I’d only tasted a very small amount to check the flavor, but Evan had also realized immediately it was poison the moment it hit my throat, and fought desperately to make me spit it out.

Poison always needs time to take effect after ingestion. That’s why I was even more worried about Evan. Unlike me, he’d drunk several full sips and hadn’t been able to expel any of it.

My teeth clenched hard.

‘I have to see Evan as soon as possible…’

But my throat had only just healed enough for my normal voice to return.

“Well? Does it look fine?”

After thoroughly checking my mouth, the doctor finally spoke.

“Yes. Your strength is returning. Please take this, my lady.”

His face looked brighter. He hadn’t been sleeping properly and had rushed over every time my condition changed. I felt guilty about it.

The medicine he handed me was pitch-black—like execution poison. It was meant to purge any lingering toxins and restore my stamina.

The taste was horrible enough to make me flinch, but I forced it down for Evan’s sake. I gripped the bowl and swallowed it in big gulps.

Mary laid me down again and pulled the blanket up.

“Can I move around today?”

“No.”

“You cannot.”

I pouted. They were too firm, both of them.

They told me firmly I wasn’t healed yet and needed bed rest. I sighed and looked out the window.

‘Do you know how many times you’ve said that?’

I hated being stuck in bed when all I wanted was to move. My chest no longer throbbed constantly. I was still weak, but I could stand if I pushed myself. But everyone insisted I wasn’t to get up.

I grabbed Mary just before she left the room.

“What’s Father doing?”

“The Count is meeting a guest.”

“With who?”

“…Someone you don’t know, my lady.”

Mary dodged the question.

‘She’s definitely hiding something.’

I narrowed my eyes at her; she quickly avoided my gaze. Suspicious.

“There’s something I need to say. It’s about the poison.”

At the word poison, Mary’s expression hardened. I nodded, confirming I knew something.

As my body recovered, my mind had spun nonstop. I felt like I’d used up an entire year’s worth of brainpower in a few days. And I remembered—the Alosi poison, and the larger framework of the game.

“You want to catch the culprit, right? Then you need to hear what I know.”

“A culprit?! You suspect someone?”

I nodded. Mary grew even more serious, then assured me she would handle it and begged me to stay in bed.

“I’ll ask the Count. Please rest, my lady.”

“All right.”

If my father came himself, that would be fine. I gave Mary a small, apologetic nod.

Time passed, and then—knock, knock.

When Father entered, my face brightened—until I saw the unfamiliar man behind him.

“Father…? And who is that…?”

A middle-aged man I’d never seen before stood behind him.

“Count Clies. Is this the girl?”

He raised a brow, scrutinizing me. His presence was imposing enough that I nearly recoiled, but I gripped the blanket tightly and held firm.

‘Silver hair… no way…’

I caught a faint trace of Evan in the man’s features.

“Duke Weiss?”

His face was harsher than Evan’s, but the resemblance was unmistakable. Evan had been a bit sharp in the game too, so it wasn’t hard to connect the dots.

‘Like father, like son. No wonder Mary was acting strange—she knew I’d blame myself even more if I saw the Duke.’

I let out a bitter smile. I tried to climb out of bed to greet him, but he stopped me with a raised hand.

“I don’t make sick children stand.”

He wasn’t wrong—moving still hurt. I accepted his consideration.

“Your Grace,” Father said stiffly, “my daughter still needs rest. Whatever information she has, I’ll convey it to you.”

He looked tense, repeatedly glancing at me in worry.

The Duke must have overheard that I knew something about the poison—of course he came in person.

If the Duke joined forces with us, maybe we could find clues to the antidote faster. He’d want his son cured. And together, we could strike down the ones responsible.

‘Those bastards deserve worse than death.’

Anger surged, but I forced myself to stay calm.

This was noble society—strictly hierarchical. We were counts. He was a Duke. His son had been poisoned in our estate. He had every right to accuse me. He could claim I poisoned Evan myself.

‘All because of me…’

I bit my lips. First, I owed him an apology—this happened by my hands.

I bowed my head deeply, still leaning against the bed.

“I’m terribly sorry. Because of me, your son—”

“He made that choice himself.”

Instead of the harsh rebuke I braced for, the Duke brushed it off. I blinked, then cautiously asked about Evan.

“Is he… all right?”

“Well, he has some poison resistance. He won’t die easily.”

Poison resistance? My face drained.

I had hoped to hear he was recovering, but… poison resistance? I supposed that counted as something.

But then—

“More importantly.”

I looked up instantly. The Duke stroked his chin, then shot me a sharp gaze.

“You said you had something to say about the poison.”

I nodded.

As my body recovered, I remembered a certain storyline—about the crown prince. Another capture target, like Piote and Evan. And closely tied to the person behind all this.

The Chaoka family was also a victim. The poison wasn’t meant for Evan. A mistake during storage caused the poisoned tea leaves to mix with the normal ones—only lightly, so the dosage was small. That’s why he didn’t die instantly.