| Chapter 10

Ignoring Yanken, who was quietly muttering while looking at him, Lars picked up his teacup. A stale aroma wafted from the cooled tea. As he wrinkled his nose, Yanken threw out in a nonchalant tone.

“More important than whether she did it or not is whether she’ll reveal the existence of the kind ‘priest’ who escorted her home while explaining what happened that day. As we all know, the captain’s appearance is quite… distinctive.”

That day, it was Lars who had stopped him from suggesting they kill Lucienne, who might have overheard their conversation. Anticipating the start of the same argument, Lars’ face took on a cynical expression as Yanken added, looking directly at him.

“Wouldn’t it be better to deal with her before she spoke any unnecessary words?”

“Yanken. We’re not butchers.”

Spitting out the words in a cold tone, Lars quietly looked at his loyal guard. Though it seemed he had something to say, Yanken didn’t speak further. He knew the outcome of the argument was already determined.

“If such rumors have spread, it means quite some time has passed since she was taken.”

Breaking the awkward air, Lars put down his teacup, and Yanken bowed his head.

“It seems about two hours have passed.”

“She must be undergoing interrogation by now. Plant someone in the guard. Keep an eye on the Count’s movements too. If Balshwin killed Bickman, he’ll be trying to contact Freemont by now. And we…”

Lars, who had risen from his seat, grabbed the cloak hanging on the wall. He nodded towards Yanken, whose eyes were sparkling.

“Let’s go buy some firewood for now.”

Yanken blankly stared at Lars’ back as he left the room, donning his cloak. It was only a moment later that he understood what the firewood meant.

* * *

The prison was a bit cold. Maybe it was because of the atmosphere. In that place surrounded by stone walls on all sides, only the shadows of torches flickered, and among the smells of earth and oil, there was a mixture of what seemed like an old fishy odor.

From afar, someone’s agonizing scream could be heard faintly, as if in a dream. I quietly clasped my trembling hands together. Peterson, the small-built man who had introduced himself, was sitting in front of me, grinning and staring at me intently.

“I don’t know if you’re aware, but when someone who handles poisonous herbs uses them on a person, the execution is unconditional, regardless of the reason. It’s to maintain order, you see.”

“I don’t work at the herb shop. I just helped the lady a few times. All I know is that if you touch that herb with bare hands, blisters form.”

“That’s the same thing. Don’t think you can escape with wordplay.”

As Peterson spoke, twirling his mustache with his finger, I swallowed dry saliva. My lips were becoming parched.

“I don’t even know who that person is. Really.”

Peterson clicked his tongue and lightly tossed something. My gaze fell on a golden badge that spun around with a metallic sound.

“This came from the drawer where your things were kept. The bull emblem engraved on this badge is the symbol of Baron Bickman’s family. Why don’t you explain why this was in your drawer?”

The trembling intensified. Thinking that showing my nervousness would make them more suspicious of me, I clenched my fists so tightly that my nails dug into my palms.

“…I found it while cleaning the house. I thought someone had dropped it, so I was planning to find the owner someday.”

“Find the owner? While hiding it in your drawer?”

Sneering, Peterson started circling around me.

“Here’s what I think. The baron, drunk, went to visit his lover, but his lover had gone to see another lover. Whether he mistook you for Mrs. Almon or targeted you from the start, we can’t know since the dead don’t speak, but anyway, the baron must have pounced on you. Well, he was known to be quite the embodiment of lust.”

Smiling sickeningly, he stroked his mustache. His lips, glistening with saliva, made me shudder.

“During the struggle, the badge fell off. You couldn’t win with strength, so you soothed the baron and fed him the poisonous herb. You might not have intended to kill him, but when he died, you panicked and hid him in the closet, right?”

I looked at him with astonished eyes. I thought it might be a joke, but surprisingly, he seemed to be serious.

To kill someone and then just put the body in a closet. Peterson clearly thought I was about ten years old. My lips trembled as I finally managed to speak.

“Nothing like that happened. When I returned that day, the house was quiet as usual, and I was tired, so I went straight to sleep. I didn’t even know Mrs. Almon wasn’t there.”

“What time did you arrive home?”

As Peterson asked with a snort, I lowered my gaze.

“I didn’t see a clock, but it wasn’t past midnight.”

“And why did you run away from the theater?”

“I didn’t run away…”

“You deliberately made plans with that little kidMark to pretend you were at the theater! Mark already told us everything, how you usually didn’t pay him any attention, but that day you suddenly wanted to go to the theater and it surprised him! How long are you going to keep up this act?”

If I had intended to pretend I was at the theater, why would I have said with my own mouth that I went home?

Finding Peterson’s aggressive questioning absurd, I gathered courage and refuted.

“If that’s true, then you’re saying I made plans with Mark in advance to create an alibi, knowing the baron would come to the house. Does that mean you think I had planned to kill the baron with poisonous herbs beforehand? Even before he pounced on me? That doesn’t make sense, does it?”

I should have known that someone like Peterson would hate being directly contradicted more than anything. Peterson’s eyes rolled back, and his voice grew even louder.

“Someone died, and seeing how you can talk with your eyes wide open, it must be true that you killed him. Such impudence from a young thing. And look, it’s true that the baron pounced on you, right? You just said so yourself. Hey, scribe. You heard that too, right? Make sure you write it down properly.”

“No, that was just a hypothetical…”

“You knew the baron was targeting you. So you were carrying aponin grass, ready to kill him whenever he pounced on you! Why can’t you tell the truth?”

The sound of him slamming the desk hard made me jump. My heart was pounding.

Peterson’s words were utterly chaotic, but my thoughts were so tangled that I couldn’t figure out where to start explaining, and my mouth wouldn’t move well. A vile smile appeared on Peterson’s lips.

“You must have sneaked back home alone, leaving the naive Mark at the theater. With the intention of killing the baron who kept pestering you at every opportunity that day. An angel-faced murderer. It’s chilling.”

“I didn’t return alone that day!”

Unable to bear it any longer, I shouted after finding a gap in Peterson’s words. Suddenly, Peterson’s eyes, which had been excited with a flushed face, narrowed like threads.

Eyes like a snake flicking its tongue after discovering new prey. The corners of his mouth slowly rose.

“So you had an accomplice? Who might that be?”

For a moment, I felt a chill as if all the blood in my body had drained at once. The cogs in my empty mind began to spin rapidly.

The priest is sufficiently suspicious. Because he was at the theater full of depraved people at such a time. And the fact that I returned home with someone doesn’t help at all in proving my innocence. Because we didn’t go into the house together to check the situation.

Moreover, given Peterson’s coercive attitude, perhaps the priest could be implicated as an accomplice in the baron’s murder just for accompanying me. It seemed more than possible.

…That must not happen.

Absolutely not.

My open lips closed defensively. Seeing my rolling eyes in confusion, a satisfied expression appeared on Peterson’s face. He lowered his body and whispered, breathing out a disgusting breath.

“Your small tongue was rolling so well, as if oiled, but now you’ve become mute as if you’ve eaten honey. Answer me, Lucienne Gwynter. Innocent people have nothing to hide.”

Dry saliva seemed to stick in my throat like a stone. I barely managed to move my lips.

“I wasn’t the only one on that road. There were people stumbling around drunk, though I don’t remember their faces, and there were also wild animals.”

Clicking his tongue and laughing as if my intimidated voice was ridiculous, Peterson suddenly grabbed my hair.

“Ugh!”

My neck painfully bent backward as he pulled hard. Pushing his face close, with the smile gone, Peterson said in a low voice.

“You don’t seem to understand the situation, so let me explain. A noble gentleman has died, and a poisonous herb that shouldn’t be used on people was used. You’re going to be executed anyway. If you at least say you had no choice because of the baron’s assault, you might be able to die quickly. The world might even sympathize with you a little. But if you keep denying your crime like this…”

I heard a clicking sound and lowered my gaze. In Peterson’s hand was a long, thin blade.

The knife wasn’t clean. The dark red stains on the handle seemed to be screaming.