Chapter 23. After the invitation

“Pseudo-slave?”

Hearing such an insult for the first time in her life, Serenia couldn’t even muster anger. She simply froze in place.

Raskal looked down at her with shadowed eyes before turning with a slight smile. He took a few steps toward the hospital room door but then paused.

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“Come to think of it, there are nine days left before the bank seizes the estate, aren’t there?”

“…”

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“I’ll generously give you that time to sort things out with your lover. It should be enough.”

“…”

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“But remember this. If you take any longer, it won’t just be your house you lose. This room—no, this entire hospital—will be gone as well.”

With those final words, he left the room.

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Serenia crouched on the floor beside her father’s bed, clutching her trembling hands tightly to her chest.

Strangely, tears began to flow.

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He hadn’t even said anything that was untrue.

“Why do you just lie there, Father, listening to all that?”

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She directed her frustration at her unconscious father.

“He runs his mouth however he pleases… shouldn’t you at least get up and teach him some manners? Beat some sense into him if you have to…”

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Muttering complaints, Serenia huddled in a corner of the room and allowed herself a brief, quiet sob.

—

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Serenia didn’t return home.

After hearing such threats about the hospital, she couldn’t bring herself to leave her father’s side.

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She spent days sitting on the makeshift chair by the bed, staring blankly at the clouds drifting past the window.

There was nothing else she could do. She had no way to heal her father, no way to make Raskal withdraw the marriage proposal.

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Though she might have had the courage to storm into the duke’s mansion and hold a blade to his throat, she knew that wouldn’t make him change his mind.

Serenia muttered bitterly to herself, “Well, that’s what it means to be a pseudo-slave…”

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Just then, a nurse slipped quietly into the room.

Startled, Serenia thought it might be time for treatment, but the position of the sun suggested otherwise.

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The nurse approached her with a quiet demeanor and handed her a note.

“A carriage is waiting for you in front of the hospital,” she said.

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Serenia opened the note.

 

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<Let’s have a chat.>

 

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The elegant handwriting and the large yellow petal placed on the note were unmistakable.

A dahlia flower.

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Light returned to Serenia’s dull, weary eyes.

Finally, the last chance she had been waiting for had arrived.

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By the time she looked up, the nurse was already gone. Serenia stood abruptly, ready to leave the room, but she hesitated when she looked back at her father.

Closing her eyes tightly, she stepped forward.

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The carriage carrying Serenia headed straight for the duke’s mansion.

As she stepped out of the carriage and stood at the mansion’s entrance, the servants began whispering amongst themselves.

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But Serenia paid them no mind and followed the head maid inside.

She was led to a parlor used exclusively by Dalia Admancanon.

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Despite her disheveled state, a result of sleepless nights and skipped meals, Serenia walked into the room with unwavering dignity.

The parlor was resplendent, and a lavish tea table was set up in front of her.

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From cookies and cakes to sandwiches and other light dishes, the table was piled high with food. Seeing the elaborate spread, Serenia thought to herself, ‘She’s going all out.’

In the capital’s social circles, there was a saying: “Never swallow even a sip of water at the Admancanon mansion.”

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This wasn’t just a metaphor but a grave warning.

Here, food was often poisoned—not intentionally, but even mistakes were frequent.

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The massive mansion housed storerooms filled with poisonous concoctions passed down through generations, as well as laboratories and facilities operating around the clock to create new toxins.

Despite strict management, incidents involving toxic gas leaks were not uncommon.

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The servants of the mansion were paid nearly five times the standard wage, but many left in stretchers and never returned.

Why, then, did the duke’s household face no repercussions? The answer was simple.

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The Admancanon family produced more medicine than poison.

Everything in this world could be a poison or a cure depending on its use.

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The Admancanon family ran a pharmaceutical company, Medicannon, directly based on their research.

Thanks to the countless medicines they produced, tens of thousands of lives were saved each year.

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“You’ve arrived. Take a seat,” Dalia said, gesturing to the chair opposite her.

Without a word, Serenia pulled out the chair and sat.

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No sooner had she settled in than red tea was poured into the white teacup before her.

The vivid crimson liquid filling the porcelain cup sapped what little appetite Serenia had left. Staring down at the table with a displeased expression, she noticed Dalia lifting her own cup first.

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Dalia took a sip of tea, her movements elegant yet exuding a chilling composure. A faint, cruel smile formed on her lips as she looked at Serenia.

“Why aren’t you drinking?”

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Reluctantly, Serenia lifted her teacup. There was no unusual smell or color, but it was clear something had been added.

For a moment, she hesitated, wondering what kind of poison it might be. Would it be a deadly toxin that would kill her in one sip, or a mild one that caused nothing more than stomach pain?

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As various possibilities ran through her mind, Serenia glanced at the woman sitting across from her.

Dalia Admancanon. Raskal’s mother.

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Serenia knew one thing for certain: Dalia’s priority was always herself. Even though she seemed obsessed with meddling in her son’s affairs, it was because she, too, was a noblewoman. Without her son, she would likely face the same fate as Serenia—a life as a so-called “pseudo-slave,” as Raskal had so cruelly put it.

Dalia would do anything to break off this engagement, but she would never choose a path that would harm herself irreparably.

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‘Then it can’t be a deadly poison,’ Serenia concluded.

Without hesitation, she took a sip of the tea.

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There was no strange taste. It seemed this particular poison had been carefully prepared. The thought made Serenia chuckle softly to herself.

She could already see what would happen next.

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In a few hours, when she collapsed from poisoning, everyone would suspect Dalia Admancanon.

The future mother-in-law poisoning her potential daughter-in-law in broad daylight—it was an unthinkable scandal. In such a case, Raskal would have no choice but to apologize to the Barishart family and withdraw the proposal.

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As for Dalia, she would retreat to a monastery in her territory under the pretense of self-reflection.

Why not prison? Because Serenia would recover swiftly after being given an antidote from the Admancanon household.

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In a world where even murder could be pardoned with money, there was no way someone of Dalia’s status would face jail time for attempted poisoning.

After five years of quiet in the monastery, she would return to high society, as radiant as ever.

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‘Except I’m not a mistress. How unfair.’

Serenia thought bitterly, finishing her tea in one gulp.

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She set the teacup down with a sharp clink, and Dalia let out a derisive snort.

“Even in a place like this, you show your lack of refinement.”

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“Indeed,” Serenia replied curtly. She grabbed a nearby cookie, biting into it with a loud crunch.

One by one, she took bites from every dessert within reach, then brushed her hands off and added coldly, “But I’ve eaten and drunk everything you offered. I’d say I’ve done my part.”

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“Your part?”

Dalia let out a hollow laugh.

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“No, my dear. Aren’t you using me, too?”

“Using you?”

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Serenia feigned ignorance, her expression blank.

Dalia stared at her with piercing eyes before tossing a stack of photos onto the table.

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The photos depicted a man and a woman walking along the Pfenn River.

One showed them stopping to face each other, seemingly deep in conversation.

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Another captured the two standing so close under the gaslights that they appeared ready to embrace.

And the last… their faces pressed together, lips meeting.

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The sequence of images, like a storyboard, drained the color from Serenia’s face.

‘What? Why do the photos look like this? We only whispered to each other—how does it look so indecent…?!’

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But she quickly realized this was no time to dwell on her indignation.

 

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