Chapter 42
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 42
Chapter Title: The One Who Should Not Be Suspected, Therefore Must Be Suspected the Most
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Thud.
A piece of red tart fell from Kairun's fingertips to the floor.
That tiny sound, that faint noise, crushed the silence that had settled over the room even heavier.
Karla stood frozen at the door, barely able to breathe.
Her eyes darted uncontrollably between the tart on the floor and Kairun's face.
Gazing at his mother's unfamiliar expression, Kairun suddenly recalled his teacher, the Eisen Baron's, lesson.
“Young master. When dealing with people, there is a type you must be most cautious of.”
The Eisen Baron's characteristically cold voice echoed in his ears.
“Those who use ‘one-sided guilt-tripping rhetoric’ against their opponents.”
‘One-sided guilt...’
“Of course, someone as noble as you, young master, would quickly notice if inferiors tried such tricks. But... those who enter marriages, sharing the same eye level... or the imperial family... and one's own parents.”
The closest people—those who should not be suspected, and thus must be suspected the most—could be the deadliest when employing such rhetoric.
‘Mother...’
Had she treated him and brother Karl that way all this time?
No.
She was not one to use such insidious tactics.
His mother was a kind woman.
That was why her current expression...
‘Felt so utterly alien...’
She was free of the colors of such vile schemers.
Yet why did his heart ache so fiercely?
Why did her eyes hold the gaze of a cornered beast?
“...Mother?”
Karl, seated in his wheelchair, turned in surprise.
“What brings you here without even knocking...”
Karla flinched and shifted her gaze to Karl.
Her pupils trembled anxiously, lost for direction.
“Ah, uh... the plate... Right, I came to collect the plate. To see if you'd finished... like old times...”
“Ah...”
Karl gave a bitter smile and lowered his head.
“I'm sorry, Mother. I lost my appetite again and left some. You go to such lengths every time... I have no face to show.”
His brother's kind apology stabbed Kairun's heart like a dagger.
Unaware that the poison he'd ingested had ruined his appetite and broken his body.
Instead, his brother was apologizing to the culprit.
But Karla seemed deaf to her son's apology.
Her nerves were fixed entirely on the tart fallen to the floor—and the pieces still on the plate.
‘Kairun... can't eat that.’
Karla poured out frantic excuses in a trembling voice.
“Ah, no... More importantly, I checked the grapefruits in the kitchen earlier... Some looked spoiled...”
She stammered, glancing at Kairun's reaction.
“Just... you seemed off, Karl... No stomach pains or anything? I was worried...”
A lie.
Kairun bit his lip.
‘Spoiled grapefruits?’
Absurd.
His mother was a perfectionist with desserts.
The chance of spoiled ingredients in food for her sons was near zero.
Moreover...
That trembling was far too clumsy.
For executing the scheme swirling in his mind now—the meticulous, cruel plan to slowly kill his brother and elevate him to grand duke—his mother's reaction was overly immature and sloppy.
As if she couldn't even bear the weight of what she'd done.
The excuse about spoiled food lost all power.
To begin with, Kairun himself had eaten the tart today.
The sweetie version, but made from the same grapefruits bought today.
If the grapefruits were truly spoiled...
She should worry about his stomach too.
He had to confirm it.
Turn this cruel suspicion into certainty.
Kairun slowly reached out.
His hand picked up another piece of tart from the plate.
Red-fleshed, living bitter version.
“Ka, Kairun! No!”
His mother screamed.
“Don't eat it! It's spoiled! Can't you hear me?!”
His mother rushed forward desperately.
But Kairun didn't hesitate.
He brought the tart to his mouth.
“Kairun?”
He ignored even his brother Karl's startled call.
Crunch.
He put the tart in his mouth and chewed.
Crack.
The tart shell crumbled, and bitter grapefruit flesh burst forth.
And then.
Gulp.
His Adam's apple bobbed as the red flesh—and the poison hidden within—slid down his throat.
“......!”
His mother screamed and staggered.
She nearly collapsed, clutching the doorframe.
Kairun chewed slowly and swallowed.
‘Bitter.’
Even for him, the bitter version was tongue-numbingly sharp.
A faint tingling that numbed the tip of his tongue.
This was the taste of the pain his brother swallowed daily.
This was the taste of the deadly poison his mother had wrapped in the name of love.
But Kairun didn't furrow his brow.
He showed no sign of pain or surprise.
He simply stopped his brother from rising from the wheelchair and approached his mother Karla.
Step, step.
His footsteps echoed through the room.
Karla backed away in terror.
Her son had eaten the poison.
But.
‘No... It's fine...’
A flicker of reason returned to Karla's fear-consumed eyes.
The poison she used wasn't an acute toxin that made one vomit blood and collapse immediately.
It was a vicious, insidious one that slowly numbed nerves and gnawed life force over time, disguised as illness.
Since she'd been feeding Karl minute doses for so long, the effects were gradual.
So Kairun wouldn't die from just that one piece.
No blood vomiting or bloodshot eyes.
Kairun would be fine.
But.
‘Too late...’
Reason returned, but it was far too late to salvage the situation.
She had screamed and lunged to stop her son.
That overreaction alone was a confession that ‘something was wrong with the food.’
More than that, Kairun's eyes.
Those calm, cold eyes staring at her without a flicker of expression said it all.
I'm not your puppet dancing to your plan.
‘I... failed to become a monster.’
Karla despaired.
She knew better than anyone the poison she'd fed Karl.
She had smiled without batting an eye, feeding it to her stepson Karl for years.
She was a woman who had chosen to become a monster for her goal.
Yet.
At just one drop of poison on Kairun's lips, all her masks and composure crumbled.
Love for her own son.
That shallow, tenacious emotion had tripped her up.
Failure.
Total failure.
Looking at his trembling mother, Kairun etched the Eisen Baron's teaching into his mind once more.
“Those who use ‘one-sided guilt-tripping rhetoric’ against their opponents.”
He was now turning that tactic back on his mother.
Unfilial or not, it was the only weapon to unearth the truth.
“Are you alright, Mother? You look quite shocked.”
Kairun asked in an utterly serene voice.
Then he gripped his mother's trembling shoulders.
“Doesn't seem spoiled. Just... a bit bitter.”
“Ka, Kairun...”
Karla's lips quivered.
“Brother.”
Kairun turned to his brother.
“Mother seems dizzy. Probably overdid it baking the tart. I'll escort her to her chambers.”
“Ah... yes. Please do. Take care, Mother.”
Karl sent a worried look, clueless to the truth.
“Don't worry.”
Kairun hooked his arm through Karla's.
To any onlooker, a dutiful son supporting his mother.
But Karla knew.
Her son's grip on her arm was harder and colder than ice.
She couldn't shake it off.
Kairun half-dragged his mother out of the study.
Click.
The door shut, leaving them in the corridor.
Out of his brother's sight.
The long hallway was empty.
Only their footsteps broke the stillness.
Kairun walked slowly, supporting his mother.
His stomach churned—whether from the poison or betrayal, he wasn't sure.
But he kept the mask on to the end.
“......”
“......”
After a long stretch of suffocating silence, Kairun spoke softly.
In a low voice laced with moisture, audible only to his mother.
“So... you do love me.”
“......!”
Karla halted with a jerk.
She looked up at her son with terror-filled eyes.
Kairun gave a wry smile.
“You freaked out and blocked me when I tried to eat it... even screamed.”
The poison meant to kill his brother.
When he tried to eat it, his mother instinctively intervened.
Risking exposure.
Paradoxically, proof she loved her own son just as fiercely.
Twisted and wrong as it was.
“Your unchanging love, confirmed. Thank you, Mother.”
“Ka, Kairun... Kairun...”
“Shh.”
Kairun pressed a finger to his lips.
“Not here. Someone might hear.”
He pulled his mother's arm again.
“Let's go. In your bedroom... we'll talk intimately.”
Kairun's eyes blazed red.
In Karla's gaze, his crimson eyes seemed to burn even brighter amid the smile.
Like the red sunset over the mountains.
And his supporting shoulder felt... broad.
Like... Karl's shoulder when he had supported her...
Kairun had grown.
Too much for his mother to hold.
But ironically, red tart crumbs still dusted his lips.
Even Kairun wasn't fully rational now.
His heart clenched so tight he'd forgotten his mother's scoldings to wipe his mouth.
But in Karla's eyes, those scattered red flecks looked like bloodstains.
Bloodstains she had spilled.
As Kairun supported Karla out, cold silence returned to Karl's study.
Karl stared blankly at the closed door.
“......”
A faint, bitter smile tugged at his lips.
“You've really grown up now, Kairun.”
His brother's back, supporting their mother, looked so reliable.
Something he loved most but could no longer do.
Standing to wrap an arm around their mother's shoulders, matching steps.
It reassured him, yet a corner of his heart grew heavy as lead, feeling like a burden on his brother.
That was when.
Karl's gaze stopped on a spot on the floor.
“...What's that?”
A small glass vial rolled on the carpet near the door.
A transparent bottle the length of two finger joints.
It must have fallen from his mother's pocket when she staggered earlier.
‘Mother's medicine? I should return it.’
Karl wheeled over to where the vial lay.
Up close, clear liquid sloshed inside.
‘Mother's not well either. No wonder, with how she overworks.’
Karl leaned forward to pick it up.
His fingertips nearly brushed it.
Just a bit more.
“Ugh...”
Karl groaned.
His legs lacked strength, making balance hard.
In the old days, he'd have held steady with his core and snatched it easily.
Lately, his body had weakened drastically.
Almost no sensation below the waist, even his upper body muscles melting away.
His arms trembled.
But Karl didn't give up, stretching further.
In that instant.
Thud!
“Ack!”
The wheelchair tipped as he lost balance, and Karl tumbled to the floor.
The rug's rough texture scraped his cheek.
His body jolted from the impact.
No scream came.
It didn't hurt.
That numbness crushed him, reminding him of his wretched reality.
“Hah... hah...”
Karl lay sprawled, breathing raggedly.
He had to get up.
He pushed against the floor with his arms, trying to lift his torso.
But his lower body clung like lead glued to the floor, unmoving.
The weight dragging from his legs felt like a thousand tons.
In that helplessness, a past memory surfaced.
A conversation with his father, the Northguard Grand Duke.
“Kairun's still too young. Talented, yes, but sending him to the academy three years early is too much.”
His father had opposed it.
“And above all... his personality's still childish. I doubt he can survive among imperial nobles.”
But Karl had shaken his head.
“Please send him, Father. Kairun can do it. His talent will surpass mine.”
“Karl, I know you cherish your brother, but...”
“I beg you.”
The old Karl had knelt before his father, pleading.
Back then, he had the strength to leave the wheelchair and kneel.
After that day, the grand duke furrowed his brow whenever he saw Karl.
In truth, Kairun had no strong feelings about the academy.
It was his own impatience.
And he'd subtly nudged Kairun to whine to their father about it.
‘My body...’
Karl crawled across the floor, biting his lip.
‘Until Kairun graduates at his proper age... I can't be sure it'll hold out that long.’
Life force draining day by day.
A vague terror that one day he might not wake.
So he'd hurried.
So he'd been clumsy.
He wanted to see his brother standing proud in uniform, even a little sooner.
Before he himself collapsed completely.
Only then could he rest easy and close his eyes.
Scrape.
Karl called for no one.
A servant would help him back to the chair, but he didn't want them seeing his pathetic state.
Biting his lip until it bled, he dragged himself forward with his arms.
And finally grasped the fallen vial.
“......”
To pick up this one tiny bottle was so grueling.
Karl gave a wry smile and pocketed the vial.
Then, with shaking arms, he gripped the wheelchair frame.
“Nngh...!”
Veins bulging, he strained mightily—oh so mightily—to haul his body up.
Thump.
Barely back in the wheelchair, Karl was drenched in sweat.
He panted heavily, gazing at the red sunset outside the window.
The sun setting like his own life.
‘Just a bit more...’
He prayed inwardly, over and over.
‘Hold on just a bit longer, my wretched body.’
Until Kairun fulfilled his role.
Long shadows stretched across the study.
The shadows draped in sunset.