Chapter 49
"Thanks to the poison tasters, I’ve been fine so far. But if it’s a slow-acting poison... well, I’d have no idea what’s coming next. I ordered a full investigation, assuming someone slipped it in, but neither the royal guards nor the police have found a single lead."
At King Alban II’s words, Josée fell into deep thought.
"You’re investigating under the assumption that it’s someone on the inside?"
"Precisely. Since the poison is getting into food prepared inside the palace, it’s only natural to suspect palace staff."
"......"
It was a common trap—when a case couldn’t be solved, it usually meant the initial assumptions were off.
(It’s not impossible to introduce poison from outside... It doesn’t have to be direct, hand-to-plate.)
Josée stole a glance at Nol. Even back when she was a court lady, Nol had been beautiful, but now, adorned with makeup in the Tranlene style, her face was nothing short of stunning. It was unclear how she had grown so close to Alban II, but her beauty alone seemed explanation enough.
(Nol... could you be the one behind the poisoning?)
Alban II spoke again.
"Well then, enjoy yourself today. If anything else comes up, I’ll summon you back to the palace. Come alone next time."
Behind her, Serge furrowed his brows, protective as ever, and slipped a reassuring arm around Josée’s back.
Nol turned her gaze toward Serge, her eyes carefully studying him.
"I am honored, Your Majesty," Josée replied.
With that, she stepped back and lightly placed her hand on Serge’s arm.
Nol quietly watched the two of them as they turned and exited the audience chamber.
"Phew, that was nerve-racking..."
"Sorry to break your tension, but next up is the dance, Josée."
Hearing that, Josée leaned her forehead against Serge’s shoulder with a sigh of weariness. He looked down at her fondly, like a doting grandfather watching over his granddaughter.
The two lined up at the entrance to the ballroom.
"By the way, who was that woman with His Majesty? A high-class courtesan?"
"I think so... She’s very clever."
"You know her?"
"Sort of. It’s been a while since I’ve seen her at an event like this, so I thought we might catch up."
Josée skipped over the details, but Serge understood immediately.
"It’s nice having familiar faces around, isn’t it?"
"...Yes, it is."
"If you get the chance, try talking to her. Could be a good opportunity to build new connections."
As the two continued chatting—
"If you’re looking for someone you know, there’s one standing right here."
Startled by the sudden voice, Josée flinched. Serge, too, recoiled slightly at the unexpected arrival.
"Whoa, Bernard!"
"Whoa? That’s rude."
Bernard looked slightly irritated, though his expression softened as he gestured to the tall, freckled woman beside him.
Josée squinted playfully, prompting Bernard to clear his throat and introduce her.
"Sorry to disappoint. This is Officer Ginette. We’re mingling with the guests while keeping an eye on palace security."
Ginette gave Josée a polite nod. After seeing nothing but fawning courtesans all evening, the policewoman’s vibrant, grounded presence was almost dazzling.
"Wow! Guard duty, huh?"
"Since His Majesty summoned you, I take it you’ve heard about the attempted poisoning?"
"Yes, just now. He’s asked me to look into it."
"Hmph... Even His Majesty’s getting involved, huh."
Bernard pouted, while Ginette offered a wry smile.
"If we get called ‘useless,’ that’s the end of the line. We’ve got to prove ourselves too."
"Yeah... you’re right."
As the two spoke like seasoned comrades, Serge muttered thoughtfully.
"There are women among the soldiers and officers, but not among the representatives."
"That’s true."
"Something has to be done about the older generation’s stubbornness. Especially in parliament—there’s no retirement age, so it’s just a bunch of crusty old men clinging to power."
"If women, who are physically weaker, can serve as soldiers and officers, then surely the number of female representatives should increase too."
"I’m going to change that someday. If even the government is bound by rigid patriarchy, there’s no hope for anyone."
In stark contrast to their heavy conversation, the glamorous ball began.
Unmarried young men and women were the first to enter, greeted by a round of applause. Josée looked up at the dazzling ceiling of the underworld she had long sought to infiltrate.
At last, she had made it this far.
As the court orchestra began to play, Serge gently pulled her by the waist. Feeling his warmth, Josée became acutely aware of his solid frame, his weight, his scent. She breathed it in deeply, filling her lungs.
His arm trembled slightly—just as it always did when supporting her. As their steps gradually fell into rhythm with the music, their once-awkward movements began to harmonize.
The sensation of being guided by Serge, of moving in sync with him, filled Josée’s heart and soul in a way she couldn’t quite explain. The emptiness that had always lingered inside her was quietly being filled.
(...Ah. I see now.)
As they danced in graceful unison, Josée understood what had been filling the space in her heart.
(I can trust this person.)
There was no other man she felt so at ease with. Even when being led, if it was by him, she felt completely safe.
She looked up on impulse—and Serge was already looking down at her.
Their eyes met. He smiled.
As if he’d been waiting for her to notice.
Seeing that, Josée felt something inside her lighten.
His feelings—pure and transparent—shone through his gaze, gently washing over the frayed corners of her heart.
And then, Josée understood.
(...So this is what it feels like to fall in love.)