Beneath the Surviving Princess's Joyful Facade - Chapter 160

The first thing he noticed was a neatly folded piece of paper. Beneath it, he could make out two small glass bottles nestled in dry straw to prevent them from breaking.

Should he open the paper? No, something felt off. The fact that the antidote was split into two small bottles was suspicious enough. Eirik decided to close the box carefully and went to the next room.

“Count, I need you to verify something.”

“Hmm? Sure, come in.”

At Eirik’s knock, Count Semenov opened the door without hesitation. Eirik strode in and placed the wooden box on the table.

“I opened it just to check, but something seems wrong.”

“Let me see.”

Count Semenov opened the box and examined its contents, frowning in confusion. Then he unfolded the paper.

The paper contained symbols, likely a cipher. As Count Semenov studied it, his face grew increasingly tense.

Eirik waited patiently, but as the silence dragged on, his anxiety grew. Could the count not understand the cipher? His frustration mounted.

“Do you know what it says? Does it specify which of these is the antidote?”

Uncharacteristically impatient, Eirik pressed the count. The arduous process of obtaining the antidote had drained his legendary patience.

“…I don’t even know how to explain this.” Finally, after a long pause, Count Semenov sighed and muttered under his breath.

Then, he looked up at Eirik with difficulty and spoke, “This antidote… it’s meant for the queen of Esquillir, isn’t it?”

Though Eirik didn’t doubt Count Semenov, he struggled to find the words to answer. When Eirik said nothing, the count drew his own conclusion.

“Of course, it must be. You risked your life to obtain it, so surely this antidote is for your queen and wife.”

Count Semenov now understood the full situation. He was also acutely aware of the potential consequences that even a single word from his mouth could trigger.

If the monarch learned of this, he would not survive. His entire family might even bear the consequences, their name wiped from history.

But could he remain silent?

Time passed slowly. After wrestling with his thoughts, Count Semenov made his decision. He couldn’t ignore the fate of the girl named Miesa, who had suffered so much at the hands of that monster, Vermelique II.

Yes, if poor Anika were still alive, she would agree that this was the right choice. Reaching this conclusion, Count Semenov asked Eirik, “Do you trust me?”

“I do, Count,” Eirik Cladnier answered without hesitation.

The count, seeing the sincerity in Eirik’s steady gaze, felt confident in his decision.

“Then listen carefully.”

Eirik turned his eyes to the contents of the box, trying to determine which of the bottles contained the antidote.

But the count shook his head. “Neither of these is the antidote to Finime.”

Eirik’s eyes widened in shock.

All the hardship he had endured—what had it been for? A vein pulsed on his forehead as he struggled to contain his rage, but the count continued in a calm voice.

“Both of these are poisons. This thick brown liquid appears to be a new form of Finime.”

“That can’t be…”

“I can’t teach you how to decode the cipher, but I can tell you what it says.”

Count Semenov pulled Eirik into a chair as he stood there, dumbfounded.

“The red bottle is Finime—it grants three years of survival. The blue one causes instant death.”

“Why…?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Since you disappeared with me, they must suspect I am being coerced. They likely sent these poisons to ensure my death.”

Eirik had watched Count Semenov write the letter to Sidate’s ruler. He had written every word exactly as dictated. Yet instead of sending the antidote, they had sent poisons. Did the ruler of Sidate no longer trust the count?

No, they must think that since the count had ingested Finime, they had three years to deal with the situation, giving them plenty of time.

Eirik stared blankly at the paper. He couldn’t believe what was happening. After everything he had gone through, the box held nothing but poison.

But Count Semenov didn’t give him time to wallow in despair.

“However, there’s still a hidden clue.”

“A clue?”

Eirik looked down at the paper. But there was no way for him to decode the enemy’s cipher.

Smiling faintly, the count explained, “It says, ‘Eat the Martilip.’ Do you know who Baron Martilip is?”

“I’ve heard of Sidate’s warrior leaders, but—”

“Of course, you wouldn’t know. Baron Martilip is known as ‘the Chaff,’ a withered man who looks like a husk.”

“The Chaff…”

Eirik glanced at the dried plants stuffed around the bottles in the box.

“Could this be it?”

Sure enough, these weren’t just any ordinary plants. As Eirik carefully sifted through them, the pungent scent of medicinal herbs hit his nose.

“If you take this with you, Esquillir will have the complete antidote to Finime.”

At last, Eirik realized the gravity of Count Semenov’s decision. He had handed over the secret ingredients and formula for the antidote to an enemy nation.

“If you ingested the poison, so officially, Esquillir will not be able to disclose the antidote.”

“Well, yes. If Finime fails to work the next time, my head will roll.”

“I heard it takes thirty years to make just one dose, using a rare lizard and a difficult-to-bloom plant.”

“Is that so? Well, you seem to know more than I do. In that case, I should be safe for the next thirty years. By then, I won’t mind if I die.”

Count Semenov smiled faintly. But when their eyes met, a quiet contentment settled over the count’s expression.

The days in the consulate passed slowly, though not as slow as the time spent in the mountains.

“We have two options for the ship.” A week before their departure, the consul explained cautiously, “The ship bound for Esquillir, which will take about a month, will surely be monitored by Sidate for any excuse to check the passengers.”

“Of course.”

Eirik reassessed the consul. Perhaps he wasn’t entirely incompetent.

“The other option is a detour to the island of Dea, which will take about a week. From there, you can set off on a five-week journey to Esquillir.”

“A week to the island, and then another five weeks. It can’t be helped.”

Eirik frowned. He had one other plan in mind.

“There’s a slave trading operation nearby. Tomorrow night, have the soldiers set fire to their building and cause a commotion.”

“…Understood.”

“And don’t let the villagers we rescued stay in the consulate. Find them a different place to stay beforehand.”

“About twenty people, you said. Alright, I’ll take care of it.”

The next night, the slave trading building burned down. The slave trader received only a packet of tobacco as compensation, likely purchased by that troublesome black-haired man himself.

As Esquillir’s consulate staff and soldiers pretended to search the ruins, creating a spectacle, the attention of Sidate was distracted. The Sidatean consul tried to make contact, but the Esquillir consul, following Eirik’s instructions, remained silent.

Six days later, Eirik and Count Semenov boarded a small boat. By then, the number of soldiers patrolling the harbor had noticeably decreased.

***

Three weeks later, Eirik and Count Semenov were already on a ship headed for Esquillir, having switched vessels at the island of Dea. This was two weeks before Grand Duke Hagail was set to arrive in Trea.

The messenger who left Trea immediately after the fire at the slave trading company reported the situation to the ruler of Sidate, claiming that Eirik Cladnier and Count Semenov had likely perished in the disaster.

Sidate was thrown into chaos, uncertain about the truth. Thanks to this confusion, the ship carrying Eirik was able to sail without any interference. However, the problem lay in the fact that the spies planted by Madam Cladnier had proven to be excessively competent this time.

Two weeks later, a messenger from the Cladis region arrived at the Central Palace in the capital of Esquillir.

“Your Majesty… Madam Cladnier has ordered me to report that Sidate’s movements seem unusual.”

“Unusual in what way?”

Miesa, calculating in her mind which regional lord to request reinforcements from, immediately froze when she heard the messenger’s hesitant words.

“They… they’ve received word that the two individuals in a third country have been reported dead, and Sidate is discussing countermeasures….”

There was no need to ask who the “two individuals” were. Miesa sat still, not even blinking.

“……”

After a long silence, Miesa finally spoke, her voice calm and measured. She gave an order to Duke Salachez, who had been anxiously waiting. “Summon Marquise Crispin. We must discuss our own countermeasures.”

“Understood.”

Unable to endure the stifling atmosphere any longer, Duke Salachez hurried out of the room. The oppressive silence lingered in the office until the queen’s quiet voice finally broke it.

“And Madam Cladnier?”

“She fainted upon hearing the news, but had regained consciousness by the time I left.”

“The front lines?”

“The former margrave, along with Sir Emmerich Cladnier, is holding the Fort of Oeneka and Batina Castle. The battle is in a temporary lull.”

“…I see.” Miesa nodded without expression, sitting motionless for a moment.

“Also… Madam Cladnier has sent a doctor named Harfindel, whom Your Majesty is familiar with.”

“I have no need of him. Send him back to the front lines. He’ll be much more useful tending to the wounded knights than me.”

With that, the queen’s orders were complete. As Tilberg quietly dismissed the trembling messenger, Duke Salachez returned to the office, offering a suggestion.

“Your Majesty, how about we conclude the schedule here for today?”

Miesa nodded in agreement. “Leave me alone for a while. Everyone, please step out.”

At the queen’s command, Duke Salachez, the commander of the royal guard, and even Madam Manere all exited the office.