TIRS 80

CHAPTER 80

. The Secret of the Greenhouse Garden

The reason I abandoned the Ancelot I once loved, just to become Arno’s consort.

Wasn’t it so that I could become the Crown Princess, then Queen, and eventually the mother of the new king of this country?

“I… I’ll try to do something about it.”

Arbella answered, hiding her trembling voice.

After Titarus left, Arbella immediately stood up.

There was no need to wait until dawn.

Since childhood, she had followed her mother—the wet nurse of Ancelot—frequently in and out of his palace.

Arbella slipped into Ancelot’s chambers through a secret passage.

The lights were on, but Ancelot was nowhere to be seen.

She decided to wait for him there.

Not long after—

Click.

With the sound of the door opening, Ancelot appeared.

Fresh from a wash, drops of water slid down his body and hair, only covered by a thin robe.

“Ancelot.”

Sitting on his bed, Arbella called out to him in a delighted voice.

Ancelot froze in place, then slowly furrowed his brow.

He pressed his temples with an exhausted sigh, as if annoyed.

“What now…”

“Ancelot!”

His dismissive, irritated tone pushed Arbella past her patience, and she cried out his name.

“Why—why are you ignoring me? Is it because of Princess Luivel?”

“What?”

The moment she uttered Luivel’s name, Ancelot’s face twisted with blatant displeasure.

“Ancelot…”

Just like long ago, Arbella called his name tenderly and stepped closer.

“I know you still haven’t forgotten me. But because of Princess Luivel, you’re avoiding and rejecting me, aren’t you? You have no choice.”

Speaking sorrowfully, like a tragic heroine, Arbella dabbed at her tears.

“…You’re utterly insane.”

Ancelot’s face twisted with harsh disgust as he muttered.

Arbella blinked in shock.

She knew her actions had once driven him mad, but… surely those vulgar words weren’t directed at her?

At that moment, glowing white spheres bloomed around Ancelot with a pop.

They writhed, lengthened into ropes, and suddenly coiled around Arbella, hoisting her into the air.

“Kyahhh!”

Startled by his sudden attack, Arbella screamed.

The ropes hurled her straight into the corridor outside.

“Ouch!”

Crashed to the ground, she groaned in pain, tears springing to her eyes.

A large shadow loomed over her.

Standing above her, Ancelot looked down with cold, merciless eyes, like one staring at an insect. His voice was chillingly sharp:

“If you hover around me again…”

“……”

“…you’ll never walk comfortably on two legs again.”

“Why, why are you doing this…? Is it because of Lui—”

Snap!

His rough hand clamped hard around her jaw.

“And if you dare to put Luivel’s name in that filthy mouth one more time—”

“Mmmph…!”

A muffled groan escaped her clenched teeth.

“I’ll make sure you’ll never utter it again.”

Ancelot’s eyes gleamed with murderous red light.

“Ughh…”

He released her, and Arbella collapsed onto the corridor floor again.

Without another glance, Ancelot turned and—

Bang!

—slammed the door shut.

Thrown out of his chambers, Arbella instantly became the spectacle of the palace servants.

“Isn’t that Lady Arbella?”

“Oh dear…”

“Lady Arbella sneaked into Prince Ancelot’s bedchamber…”

The murmurs reached her ears.

“No matter how deep their past connection was…”

“She shouldn’t, out of respect for the late Prince Arno.”

“Especially when Princess Luivel, his lover, is here now…”

“She has no shame.”

Arbella’s face flushed crimson.

She fled back to her quarters, clenching her fists.

“This is all because of Princess Luivel.”

There could only be one reason Ancelot spurned her so harshly: Princess Luivel.

She must have him under her control.

Otherwise, how could Ancelot—the man who had gone mad from his love for Arbella—treat her this way?

Pity welled in her heart for him.

“Poor Ancelot. I’ll help you.”

Staring out toward his palace, Arbella whispered:

“Just as I removed your previous fiancées, I’ll remove Princess Luivel too.”

By now, Titarus’s request had slipped from her mind. All that consumed her was the thought of driving Luivel away.

In a cold voice, she ordered her maid:

“Doris, prepare. We’re going to the greenhouse.”

The next day, Arbella invited Luivel to the greenhouse garden.

Surely, by now, Luivel had heard about her past with Ancelot—there was no way she’d ignore the invitation.

As expected.

At the mention of discussing Prince Ancelot, Princess Luivel agreed to come at once.

“What do you have to discuss about Ancelot?”

Luivel asked bluntly, seated with arrogant poise.

‘The haughty princess of Azester.’

Even the way her eyes lingered felt condescending.

Arbella, suppressing her hostility, spoke softly.

“Do you know about my relationship with Prince Ancelot?”

“That you stabbed him in the back and set up house with another man while he was at war?”

Luivel answered coolly, crossing her arms with a raised brow.

Her attitude resembled the irritated look Ancelot had shown Arbella not long ago. It unsettled her.

“…So you do know. Then you must also know that he lost his mind because he couldn’t forget me.”

“I heard the crazy one wasn’t Ancelot, but you.”

Arbella’s lips twitched at Luivel’s refusal to back down.

Still, she forced a smile and continued.

“There’s not a single soul in Luenhart who doesn’t know our tragic love story. Songs, paintings, and tales spread it everywhere.”

“Oh, really?”

Luivel replied indifferently.

“This is one such painting of us, by Luenhart’s artists.”

Arbella handed her a portrait.

Luivel glanced at it—then froze.

“This… is supposed to be Ancelot?”

Her voice wavered with surprise.

‘Hmph. Of course.’

The portrait depicted her and Ancelot as the perfect, beautiful couple.

‘Now she’ll know she doesn’t belong between us.’

Pleased, Arbella glanced at Luivel’s stiff expression.

“You seem… shocked.”

“…May I keep this?”

As Luivel’s grip crumpled the edge of the portrait, Arbella sneered.

“Of course.”

No doubt she planned to confront Ancelot with it.

Watching the two quarrel over the painting would have been amusing…

‘But sadly, I won’t have the time to enjoy it.’

Arbella’s smile deepened as she looked around the greenhouse.

This garden, gifted to her by Prince Arno upon their marriage, was her most cherished place in the palace.

Exotic flowers filled the space. To most eyes, they were simply beautiful—yet many were poisonous.

No one, not even her family, knew that Arbella, the pitiable princess consort, was also a secret master of poisons.

The previous night, she had gathered one such plant.

Ground into powder and mixed into tea, it caused vomiting of blood and deathly pallor—though it inflicted no real harm.

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t true poison, but a fake designed to mimic poisoning.

Arbella had ordered Doris to mix it into her own cup during tea with Luivel.

If she collapsed, suspicion would inevitably fall on Luivel.

“Lady Arbella, the refreshments are ready.”

At the perfect moment, her maids arrived with tea and sweets.

Plates clattered softly as they set them on the table.

“Shall we have tea first? Luenhart’s blends differ from Azester’s.”

Once the maids withdrew, Arbella lifted her cup, feigning an inviting smile.

Luivel nodded stiffly.

‘Hah, how naïve.’

Arbella mocked her inwardly.

So what if she had manifested sword aura by luck?

Compared to Arbella, who had clawed her way up with her own effort, Luivel was nothing.

Arbella chuckled softly and sipped the poisoned tea.

‘Huh?’

Nothing happened.

The tea was simply delicious.

‘What?’

Puzzled, she drained the cup—

“Cough!”

Suddenly, Luivel, seated opposite, began to cough.

“Cough, cough…”

“Princess Luivel…?”

“This tea… something’s… urghh!”

Blood spurted from her lips as she collapsed!

Arbella’s eyes widened in shock.

“Wh-what is happening! Doris!”

She looked for her maid in panic—

But Doris was nowhere to be found.

“Has anyone seen Doris?”

“No, Lady Arbella, Doris was… kyahhh!”

The servants who rushed in screamed at the sight of Luivel’s bloodied collapse.

“P-Princess Luivel… she’s d-dead…!”

“What? The princess of Azester is dead?”

As rumors spread, Arbella lost all composure and shrieked:

“No! She’s not dead!”

At that moment, pushing through the gathered servants came a blond knight from Azester—Luivel’s escort.

“What’s this commotion—”

He froze at the sight of her.

“Her Highness Luivel…”

Thud.

Klaus dropped to his knees.

“Your Highness…”

“No! No, she isn’t dead!”

Arbella’s face turned pale.

‘It isn’t even real poison—why isn’t she getting up?!’