MCFPM 27

Her throat felt parched.

Cherylot slowly rolled her eyes around, taking in her surroundings.

How long have I been unconscious?

She blinked sluggishly.

Falling off a horse and being poisoned — what a miserable life. She shook her head bitterly and was just about to sit up when the bedroom door suddenly burst open.

“Cherylot…!”
“…Huh?”

How did he even know I was awake?

Startled, Cherylot frowned deeply as Eonian strode quickly toward her.

His face was flushed red. He looked very angry.

Though she hadn’t done anything wrong, she couldn’t help feeling a pang of guilt. Avoiding his eyes, she muttered,

“How long was I out…?”
“Three days.”
“Oh…”

Cherylot whistled softly in surprise. She murmured without thinking,

“That’s better than last time.”
“What?”
“Ah.”

Her lips snapped shut. Oops. Sweat started to bead at her temples as she tried to dodge his sharp gaze.

That didn’t last long. Eonian dropped heavily into the chair beside her bed, eyes fixed intently on her.

“…Stop staring. It’s uncomfortable.”
“So it is uncomfortable, huh?”
“…”

Cherylot sighed.

“Fine, it was a big deal. I get it.”
“It was your life on the line. Doesn’t feel like something to brush off.”
“Yeah, well… all we have to do now is find whoever poisoned me.”
“‘Last time’? What do you mean by that?”
“…”

His blunt question about her past made her freeze.

Last time, huh…

“Eat it.”
“…What?”
“I said, just eat it already.”

Cherylot hesitated, wondering if she should tell Eonian about her past experience. Her decision came quickly.

I’ll tell him. There’s a magical restriction anyway.

When they’d sealed their marriage contract, a magical vow had been placed on them — either party would be unable to intentionally leak classified or sensitive information to outsiders.

So this much should be fine. Clearing her throat, Cherylot began,

“Back when I lived at the Grand Duke’s estate, there was a snack that was supposed to go to Lord Freyieu.”
“And?”
“My brother didn’t want it, so he gave it to me instead.”

Eonian’s gaze sharpened. When he gave her a small nod, silently urging her to continue, she exhaled faintly.

“And after I ate it, I collapsed.”
“How long were you out then?”
“Hmm… about a week? No, maybe longer — I was still in my early teens then, so it must’ve hit harder.”

Cherylot flexed her arms and legs, blinking rapidly. Fortunately, everything seemed to be functioning normally.

“Anyway, this time’s better. Only three days down.”
“How fortunate.”
“Oh? Were you worried about me? You’re even being sarcastic.”

Eonian didn’t respond right away. Then quietly—

“…What do you think?”

At that, Cherylot realized his eyes were slightly red at the corners.

She frowned. Was I imagining that? Before she could look closer, he pulled a stack of papers from his coat and spread them across her bed.

“…What’s this, suddenly? A list of names?”
“Suspected culprits who could’ve been involved in your poisoning.”

Why are there so many?

Baffled, Cherylot pointed at names like “Stablehand” and “Chimney Sweep.”

“Wait, why are these people on the list? They don’t even go near the dining hall.”
“They could be middlemen. I tested everyone with a holy relic.”
“And everyone who reacted painfully was detained?”
“Yeah.”

Even then, that’s too many! This looked like the entire staff roster of Lavre Castle.

“Eonian, seriously?”

When she asked suspiciously, his stern face suddenly broke into a grin.

“You actually believed me?”

That bastard!

Cherylot lunged for his collar, but he dodged back just in time. She crossed her arms tightly, tail flicking for balance.

“Then why’d you arrest so many people?”
“Thought I’d catch some spies while I was at it — a good chance to clean house.”
“So there were shady people even if they weren’t spies?”
“Right. And it helps to remind the staff who’s in charge.”

He’d apparently heard from dancers, jesters, and tavern owners that some servants, though not guilty of poisoning, had been abusive toward maids and acted poorly.

“Of course, it’d be risky to keep dragging this out.”
“Obviously. If your coworkers keep vanishing into the basement, who wouldn’t panic?”
“That’s why I’m releasing anyone innocent little by little.”
“That’s good, but still…”

Then who’s the real poisoner?

As that thought crossed her mind, something clicked.

“Hey, Eonian.”
“What?”
“I just remembered something.”

She groaned softly, then continued.

“When I first came north, I told the knights to organize some ledgers and bring them to me.”
“And?”
“I specifically said I wanted people who could read to handle it.”

“True, reconnaissance work is easier than sorting through ledgers…”

“Then why did Rodier claim to have checked them himself before the instructors even arrived?”
“…”
“Rodier can barely read.”

Eonian’s pupils widened. Almost simultaneously, both their gazes dropped to the list of names.

The person who’d taken those orders back then was—

[Lea Marcel]

“…”
“…”

Cherylot and Eonian looked up at each other. Then he chuckled and tapped the name.

“Looks like we agree?”
“…Annoying.”
“Ha!”

Laughing heartily, Eonian brushed his bangs aside.

“But that’s not all.”
“What now?”
“Lea Marcel is close with Cecil Draken — suspiciously close.”

A deep crease formed between Cherylot’s brows.

Cecil was only in her twenties, but already a veteran in the Grand Duchy’s service. Most older staff had either died to monsters or illness, or retired early due to the brutal cold.

If Cherylot were ever to appoint a head maid to lighten Clément’s administrative burden, Cecil would be the most likely candidate.

“I heard her younger brother even helped Cecil with chores a few days ago — at the abbey near the washhouse.”
“…Don’t tell me—”
“Yeah. Exactly.”

Eonian nodded grimly.

“The ones who tried to poison you are the Marcel siblings.”
“…”

Cherylot’s lips parted soundlessly.

Len Marcel — he wasn’t exactly close to her. He was a male servant, handling mail. But Lea… Lea Marcel—

‘My lady, you’re the first noble who’s ever treated a mere maid so kindly.’

She could still recall the way the girl had blushed shyly, speaking so sweetly of Eonian.

Had that innocent act — even being pushed over by the merchant Martino — all been calculated?

Cherylot lowered her gaze and stayed silent.

“You alright, Cherylot?”

She rubbed her face a few times, then lifted her head.

I have to get used to this. Otherwise, I’ll never rebuild my family, avenge the East, or find my parents.

“Should I… come back later?”

Now that she’d calmed down, Eonian looked the one who was nervous, tail curling anxiously.

“Guess I pushed you too soon after you woke up?”
“…Why are you acting all timid and wagging your tail? I’m fine.”

She flicked her hand impatiently.

Eonian stopped fidgeting and sat back down, gathering the documents again.

“Then the next thing is figuring out who’s backing them.”
“You have someone in mind?”

That’s obvious. She answered without hesitation.

“Duke Leonart.”
“What?”
“Though Peregrine might be involved too.”

Eonian’s eyes sharpened even further.

“…Two masterminds?”
“Bingo.”

She tilted her chin, gesturing for him to think.

“Leonart’s the obvious one. I recognized the scent — that distinct spice or herb blend he always used in his lab at the ducal manor.”
“So he practically announced his identity.”
“Exactly. This time, I was the test subject. He probably had the Marcels administer the poison to see how long I could survive.”

“…”

Eonian’s hand clenched tightly. His voice dropped to a dark growl.

“I’ll grind his bones to dust…”

His fury was raw, genuine — and it reached her.

Cherylot blinked, a little taken aback.

Since waking up, she’d noticed that Eonian was fully invested in her affairs, which surprised her.

Sure, they had a contract marriage, but from the start, he could’ve just given her some assets and treated her as a convenient shield — “a wife” in name only.

Yet, Eonian was going all in — asking about her past, taking charge of the investigation, acting like her ally.

Maybe even a contract family is still a kind of family.

Lost in thought, she found herself staring at his face longer than usual. Then she added belatedly,

“Oh, right — one thing you should know.”
“What is it?”
“Leonart didn’t mean to kill me with the poison.”