Reborn as the Psycho Villainess Who Ate Her Slave Beasts' Contracts

"Minimal. Just a graze."

"That might save you. Dose-dependent lethality." She looked around frantically for the physician.

This wasn’t part of the plan. Duke Romian wasn’t supposed to be the target. He was supposed to protect her, not get injured protecting her.

The physician arrived running. He examined Duke Romian’s hand, then immediately pulled out a vial and poured it over the wound.

"Neutralizing agent," he said quickly. "Your Grace, did any of the poison enter your bloodstream? Did you feel the needle pierce skin?"

"Just scratched the surface. Barely broke skin."

"That might be enough exposure to save you. But we need to monitor closely." The physician pulled out more vials. "Drink this. All of it."

Duke Romian drank without arguing.

Elara watched, her mind running calculations she didn’t want to complete. If Duke Romian died because of poison intended for her, she’d lose her primary ally. The marriage would never be formalized. Military protection would vanish.

And she’d be responsible for the death of someone who’d been trying to help her.

That thought created a strange sensation in her chest. Not quite guilt—she didn’t experience guilt normally. But something adjacent. Awareness of negative consequences caused by her presence.

"He’ll survive," the physician said after several tense minutes. "The exposure was minimal and the neutralizing agent was administered quickly. He’ll need observation tonight, but barring complications, he should be fine."