TFLMLD 56

Chapter 56 It Was the Madam Who Put Poison in It, Wasn’t It?

Macaron collapsed on the very morning Calypse had left for Madam Marie’s estate.

The absence of Calypse was heavier than anyone had expected, and the servants in the mansion soon realized it. But thanks to Calypse, who had meticulously arranged everything before her departure so that no mistakes would occur, the household continued to run as smoothly as if she were still there. Everyone knew well that it was entirely her doing.

In her absence, Momont carried the tea tray in place of Calypse and headed to Macaron’s office. He knocked several times, but there was no reply. Feeling that something was wrong, Momont quickly stepped inside.

And there—he saw Macaron collapsed on the floor, unconscious.
A teacup, not the one Momont had brought, lay shattered on the ground.

“Your Highness! Your Highness!”

He called out urgently several times, but Macaron did not wake.

The family doctor of the Creid territory was summoned in haste and busied himself with examinations. Not long after, the conclusion that came from the doctor’s lips made everyone present gasp in shock.

“…It seems His Highness has ingested poison.”

At this, Aint stepped forward, frustrated.

“Surely you’ve misdiagnosed? Why would His Highness…?”

The doctor shook his head.

“I checked several times.”

Agitated, Aint pressed him as though the doctor himself had poisoned Macaron.

“So—are you saying he can be saved, or not?”

The doctor bowed his head instead of answering immediately. At last, with difficulty, he spoke again.

“It is Raidique.”

Raidique—one of the deadliest known poisons, with the highest mortality rate. Moreover, it was infamous for causing the most excruciating death, used only by the Empire when executing the vilest criminals.

“What are you saying…? Then, does this mean my lord will die?”

“All I can do is lessen his suffering.”

Bowing deeply, the doctor excused himself to fetch medicine.

Left behind, Momont and Aint could only sit in despair by their master’s side. The faintly breathing Macaron’s face was already turning ashen gray.

The first to regain composure was Momont.

“We should at least inform Madam.”

“Yes… of course. But…”

Momont remembered something one of the attendants had said that morning and tilted his head slightly. An ominous feeling hung over him, but he soon dispatched a letter via a familiar.

‘Madam would never do such a thing.’

Aint, noticing his hesitation, spoke up.

“Have you something to say?”

“…No.”

When Momont returned to the west annex after sending the letter, he sat gloomily, watching the still-sleeping Macaron. The silence was heavy; outside, the fields bloomed beautifully beneath the clear sky, as if mocking their misfortune. Only the two of them remained, keeping quiet vigil before their master, who seemed trapped in a frozen moment of time.

At last, Momont broke the silence.

“Perhaps we should summon a mage or a saint?”

“You know that would be useless.”

Momont’s anger flared despite knowing it wasn’t Aint’s fault.

“Then tell me another solution!”

“…”

“Are we just to sit here and watch him die?”

Their grief and helplessness erupted into a near quarrel. Each vented frustration on the other for failing to protect their master.

“His Highness is not someone who would die so easily.”

Desperation had taken two different forms. They both knew such arguments were pointless, yet couldn’t help themselves.

And then—a faint tremor brushed against Momont’s hand.

“Y-Your Highness?”

Macaron’s hazy vision cleared enough to make out the two men weeping at his side.

‘Momont, yes… but Aint too?’

His sight grew clearer until his gaze met Momont’s.

Seeing his lord awaken, Momont rubbed his eyes in disbelief, checking again and again.

“I-I’ll fetch the doctor at once—!”

“No need. I’m fine.”

Macaron understood his condition better than anyone. The last thing he drank had been Raidique. By all rights, he should have died. The fact that he was still alive at all was nothing short of a miracle—and not only alive, but strangely well.

It didn’t take long for him to realize why.

‘Could it be… Calypse?’

Breathing with difficulty, he grasped Momont’s hand.

“But, Your Highness—”

“Don’t make a fuss. And tell no one of my condition.”

The head of a great house could never have his weakness known publicly. Especially now, with the Crown Prince selection trial imminent. If rumors spread that the prince was dead, the impact would be catastrophic.

“I’ll silence the physicians first, then.”

“Leave them.”

“But… if word spreads that Your Highness is dead, many nobles will bare their fangs.”

“All the better. A perfect chance to separate allies from enemies. Why waste such a useful chess piece?”

“But the chaos could cost us much.”

“The gains will outweigh the losses.”

“…”

“Reiner will surely celebrate prematurely. He won’t make any more moves against House Creid for the time being.”

At this, Momont finally understood Macaron’s intent and lowered his eyes respectfully.

“Every time, I’m reminded… Your Highness is brilliant at such things.”

“At such things?”

Macaron’s sharp gaze silenced the rest of his words.

“…Nothing.”

Macaron grimaced faintly and reclined again.

“Reiner will enlarge the board himself. All we need to do is scatter ash across it once it’s grown.”

A predatory glint flickered in his crimson eyes. Momont nodded firmly.

“We’ll devote ourselves fully to preparing for the trials in the meantime.”

Silence settled once more, thick and suffocating. Then, in a tone colder and more ruthless than before, Macaron murmured:

“Quietly find the culprit as well.”

The icy words carried a murderous aura as sharp as his red gaze. No one spoke aloud, but no one doubted the mastermind behind this. With the Crown Prince selection trial so close, only the First Prince could have orchestrated this.

“No signs of intrusion from outside,” Aint reported.

Macaron muttered under his breath, “Then the culprit… is inside.”

An enemy within.

Something flickered across Momont’s mind, but he swallowed his words upon seeing Macaron’s frailty. Still, Macaron caught his hesitation instantly.

“If you have something to say, speak.”

Resigned, Momont began his report, recounting everything in order from Macaron’s tea time. He spared him the detail that the poison was Raidique, or the doctor’s grim prognosis, but Aint soon filled in the gaps. Thus, the entire picture emerged.

What baffled them most was Macaron’s reaction. He listened as calmly as though they were telling him some distant foreign princess’s tale. Ordinarily, even the false rumor of impending death would shock someone deeply—but not him.

Later, after an episode of coughing up dark blood, Macaron’s complexion even began to return.

Momont finally let out a relieved sigh, though he himself was utterly drained. Macaron, meanwhile, remained as composed as a languid predator.

Perhaps he’s used to standing at death’s door, Momont thought, but soon realized something else.

“Your Highness… did you already know this would happen?”

“No. But someone else seemed to know…”

Since regaining consciousness, Macaron’s thoughts had been fixed on Calypse. If not for her, he might have died just as the doctor had predicted. A strange, subtle emotion tinged his voice—though Momont could never have guessed it.

“…Pardon?”

“Nothing.”

An unreadable smile crossed Macaron’s face.

At that same moment, the carriage raced swiftly into the estate.

The instant I heard Macaron had collapsed, only one thought shot through my mind: the poisoning incident.

The timing was a little different, but around this period—in the original story—I, Calypse, was beheaded.

In the source material, after marrying Macaron, Calypse’s feelings grew deeper. But her unrequited love twisted into obsession, and in the end, into hatred. At last, she accepted the First Prince Reiner Creid’s instigation and poisoned Macaron.

Macaron fortunately saw through the plot and survived. But Calypse, exposed for attempted murder, was executed.

Yet as long as I am Calypse now, I swore that incident would never happen. And even if it did, since I would be the one bribed, surely I’d know first.

But…

Did Macaron really drink poison, just like in the original?

The thought made my head spin.

If Reiner Creid’s goal was to kill Macaron and take the throne, he would’ve used a powerful poison. I couldn’t be sure it was the same incident as the original, but the timing fit perfectly.

On the day nobles were invited under the guise of a birthday banquet—though unannounced, every noble knew its true meaning. Moreover, it was the first event where Macaron, who had kept himself hidden, appeared openly. It was both a show of force and a declaration of war. There was no way the First Prince hadn’t heard of it.

If he really tried to kill Macaron…

I’d already seen his cruelty during the monster attack. This only pointed more strongly to him.

Surely no assassin could have snuck in just to place tea. Which meant… there had to be a dog of Reiner’s inside.

And yet, I hadn’t thought of that.

It was likely he already knew about my relationship with Macaron and therefore hadn’t approached me directly.

The only consolation was that I had made some preparations beforehand, “just in case.” But they were never enough to guarantee Macaron’s survival.

As the carriage sped toward the estate, my heart sank into an icy pit.

If the message said he had collapsed, then he still hadn’t woken…

My vision darkened; tears welled up.

The horses ran faster than ever, through the city center, then out to the quiet countryside, until at last the grand mansion came into view.

I leapt from the carriage and rushed straight toward the west annex. Practically running, I reached the room—just as I heard Macaron’s voice.

Opening the door, I found him sitting upright.