Chapter 34
Chapter 34
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: uly
Chapter: 34
Chapter Title: Lizbet's Magic Tea
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Imperial Capital.
Upon returning to the palace, Lark immediately sought out the office of his aide, Ren.
Rubette's advice echoed in his mind—no time to waste.
“I remember the verdict when Your Highness’s aide was sentenced to beheading.”
“What was it like?”
“He never admitted to conspiring in treason, even with all the evidence staring him in the face. He owned up to possessing all the proof, but insisted he hadn’t plotted rebellion...”
“Ren didn’t make excuses for something he didn’t do? He didn’t defend himself or claim he was innocent?”
“Sometimes in life, even when you have a mouth, there are times you can’t speak—or shouldn’t. Maybe that’s what Your Highness’s aide was facing?”
“......”
“It’s up to Your Highness to figure out what he’s not saying.”
Ren’s office was inexplicably empty when Lark arrived.
He asked Ren’s valet.
“Hey. Where’s Ren?”
“Lord Ren left ten minutes ago, saying he was heading to Asto Palace.”
“......What? Asto Palace?”
Lark’s eyes narrowed at the unexpected destination.
* * *
Asto Palace.
This lavish, grand palace—named after the word for “star”—housed dozens of unmarried female royals.
The 5th Princess, thirteen-year-old Lizbet van Rashumah Decard, was one of the princesses residing there.
She was the Empress’s only daughter and Lark’s sole full-blooded sister.
‘Ugly...’
Lizbet pouted in front of the mirror.
Her neatly braided silver hair and big eyes were fairly cute, but her short stature and chubby hands and feet left much to be desired.
“Hmm... Well, for a princess, you’re pretty cute, I suppose. Not as chubby as Rubette, at least.”
“I’m... cute?”
“Yeah, sure. Though I prefer slender women myself.”
“......!”
Lizbet was utterly sincere toward the boy who had rejected her dozens of times outright.
The one who had set her young heart ablaze was none other than Riki Diorus.
Ever since first laying eyes on him at a noble social gathering last month, Lizbet had been consumed by fervent puppy love.
‘He’s so handsome...’
His soft golden hair and snow-white skin made him look like a youthful angel boy.
‘My oppa’s famous for his looks too, but honestly, he’s got nothing on Young Master Riki.’
Lizbet shook her head firmly as she thought of her full-blooded brother, Lark.
Then, with a resolute expression, she clenched her fists tight. Today was the day she had to finish what she’d been constantly interrupted from doing.
‘I have to give that gift to Young Master Riki at this social party. Without it, I can’t even attend...’
Social party.
This secretive gathering, hosted monthly in rotation by the capital’s most prominent noble ladies and heirs, wasn’t open to just anyone.
True to its purpose of flaunting wealth and fostering connections, the one-day event was enormous in scale, with strict entry controls—no invitation, no entry.
But even an invitation didn’t guarantee admittance.
“Huuu...”
Lizbet sighed as she unfolded the luxurious invitation on black paper with gold leaf accents.
You are invited to the August social gathering.
‘Parma Crystal’
-Host: Riki Diorus
Riki was hosting this social party, and Lizbet had received an invitation.
But there was a problem.
‘Parma Crystal...’
Each invitation listed a gift demanded by the host, and invitees were expected to procure it to attend.
What Riki had requested from Lizbet was the ‘Parma Crystal’—an imperial treasure...
‘Oppa would never give me something like that.’
Currently in the possession of Crown Prince Lark.
He was affectionate and generous toward his one and only full-blooded sister, but he drew a clear line between personal and official matters.
He rarely refused her tearful pleas...
But asking him to hand over a national treasure just for a friend’s gift?
She’d get shot down flat, then lectured for an hour straight about her immaturity.
And Riki surely knew that.
‘It’s his polite way of telling me not to come.’
When a host from a declining house no longer wanted a noble’s presence at these gatherings, or needed to invite someone out of courtesy whom they didn’t actually want there...
They’d demand something outrageous like this to deter attendance.
Lizbet knew it too. That Riki, who found her burdensome, was indirectly telling her to stay away.
‘But I’m going anyway. I want to go. I want to get close to Young Master Riki...’
Undeterred, Lizbet had found one solution.
“I’ll make it work today.”
Steel resolve in her eyes, Lizbet clumsily began handling the tea set on the table.
Hot water poured over the green tea leaves released a fragrant aroma right away.
‘Magic tea leaves! If oppa just drinks this, he’ll definitely give me the Parma Crystal. The sorcerer said he’d nod yes to any request.’
Since this had to be done in utmost secrecy, she’d dismissed all her maids and prepared the tea herself.
Finally, holding the teacup precariously, Lizbet stepped out to find Lark.
Creak—the door opened.
“Eek!”
She flinched at the sight of a man standing there, arms crossed, as if he’d been waiting.
“Re-Ren?”
“Phew.”
It was Lark’s aide, Ren.
With a tired expression, he swept back his blond hair and snatched the teacup from her hand in one swift motion.
“Ah! Give it back!”
“I knew it’d be something like this.”
Ren shut the door behind him, set the teacup on the table, and turned to face her.
“Yeah. I figured you had more after I took the last ones. How many do you even have?”
“How rude!”
“All cursed tea leaves are confiscated. Hand over the rest. Now.”
“There aren’t any more! That was the last one!”
“Don’t lie.”
Lizbet flinched and teared up as Ren sharply narrowed his red eyes.
“I said there aren’t any... Why do you keep getting in my way like this?”
“Your Highness.”
Ren knelt before her to meet her gaze, pointing at the teacup on the table.
“I told you. That’s not some magic tea leaf. It’s poison grass. Poison.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
“Don’t believe me? I already looked into what those leaves are. They’re not for drinking. Drink them, and you die. You want your oppa to drink that and drop dead?”
Lizbet crossed her arms and lifted her chin defiantly.
“You’re just trying to scare me. I know it’s not poison. I drank some myself.”
“What? Are you insane?”
“I’m not insane. And stop lying. You said it’d make you vomit blood and die, but look—nothing happened.”
“Haa...”
“Ren, just help me this once. If it’s not magic tea and doesn’t work, oh well. No loss, and it’s not poison anyway. Let me try it on oppa just once. Please?”
Ren closed his eyes and sighed deeply at the childish princess’s plea.
Did this young princess realize that what she blindly believed to be magic tea leaves was actually a deadly poison?
“Absolutely not. Hand over the rest now, and tell me exactly when, where, and from whom you got this.”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Your Highness!”
Lizbet burst into tears in the face of Ren’s stern scolding. He softened his tone to soothe her.
“Please. Be grateful it’s just me who found out. Bringing something like that into the palace is a grave crime. If you get caught, you’ll end up in the underground dungeons with terrifying prisoners.”
“It’s not poison! It doesn’t kill!”
“It’s not about dying...!”
Ren bit his lip, cutting off his shout.
From what he’d learned, the tea leaves were indeed a type of poison grass. True, not directly life-threatening as Lizbet claimed...
‘How the hell did she even get this?’
A poison that rendered a man infertile, turning him into a eunuch.
No issue if a woman like Lizbet drank it, but for Lark? Completely different story. For the imperial heir, it was catastrophic.
A man without fertility would naturally be disqualified from succession. Even the first in line, the Crown Prince.
“Then you get me the Parma Crystal!”
“That’s a national treasure. Your Highness, do you have a brain or not?”
“Ugh, I don’t know! I need it, that’s all!”
“Seriously, enough!”
Just then.
“......What’s all this racket?”
At the familiar voice, Ren and Lizbet both froze. Ren swallowed hard and looked up.
Lark stood leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, having entered without a sound.