Chapter 24
Luckily, Calliope, having returned with all her memories, could easily solve the problems Kaphir struggled with. To a child, that must’ve seemed impressive—his attitude toward her noticeably softened.
“Have a good visit.”
Jack bowed as Calliope left the room with Susan. Today again, she had to endure time with the ever-tiresome Ditron. Thankfully, his poor health meant he couldn’t sit for long. That was a blessing. Calliope sighed deeply as she made her way to the annex.
And indeed, today’s meeting ended quicker than usual—thanks to Ditron feeling particularly unwell. As always, half of what he said was complaints about the Marchioness, and the other half was about how she absolutely must accept him as her mentor.
Calliope always responded with a polite smile and a “Of course.” But the repetition was wearing thin—it was getting harder to keep nodding through the same speech. Now, she was walking him back to his room, offering support as he stumbled.
“Granduncle, are you getting worse?”
“It’s all because I’m stuck living in this dusty annex. The air’s terrible, no wonder my body won’t recover.”
Their conversations were always like this. He leaned on a servant for support, staggering with each step. Calliope, hiding her distaste, offered her arm on the other side. She hated even touching him—but she could endure anything for her goal.
“Have you tried calling a healer?”
“I spent all my allowance for the month. I can’t call one again until next week.”
He played the pitiful, neglected elder well. But Calliope knew the truth—he received more than enough. Maybe not as much as the other direct heirs, but certainly enough to afford a healer. He just didn’t know his maid had been skimming from him for a while.
That’s a new outfit too, she thought, barely stopping a smirk from showing.
“I’ll call a healer for you this week. I don’t spend much, so I’ve got money left over.”
“Would you really? Ah, you’re the only one who truly cares about me.”
Calliope escorted him back to the annex and helped him into bed. Once he was down, his servant gave him some painkillers and turned off the lights. On days when he was this sick, it was best to let him sleep undisturbed—hanging around only invited things being thrown.
“You’re working hard,” she said to the sweating servant wiping his forehead.
He blinked and smiled awkwardly. After all, he couldn’t exactly say Serving nobles is hell out loud.
“Well, it’s just my job.”
“Is that so? What will you do now?”
“Oh, when he sleeps like that, he won’t wake for three hours. I was going to rest a bit.”
“Come with me.”
She walked ahead, and the man—looking confused—followed. Susan walked beside him silently, ready to assist with whatever her mistress had planned. The servant, Philip, felt like he was being escorted through the annex in some sort of soft ambush. After about ten paces, Calliope finally spoke.
“Is the work hard for you?”
“Huh? Oh, no, not really.”
“It’s alright. You can be honest with me.”
Philip hesitated. Servants weren’t supposed to complain to noble ladies. But something about Calliope’s gentle tone made him falter. Rumor had it she’d lived more like a commoner before joining the household. Maybe… maybe she’d understand.
“Well… Elder Ditron is very particular. It’s difficult, sure. But I’m paid fairly well, so I endure it.”
Calliope nodded, encouraging him.
“Of course. I rely on him a lot, but even I know he’s fussy and temperamental.”
Philip finally allowed himself to nod.
“Yes. If it weren’t for the money I need for marriage, I’d have left long ago.”
Susan frowned slightly. Sharing something so personal with a noble lady? Still, she held her tongue. This was exactly the kind of moment her mistress had orchestrated.
Calliope stopped walking and turned to face him. Startled, he looked down at the girl who was much smaller than him.
“You’ve worked hard. I’d like to help you.”
“…Sorry?”
Philip blinked, completely baffled. Meanwhile, Calliope’s smile grew a little deeper. From what she’d seen, he wasn’t particularly loyal to the family, and he seemed thoroughly fed up with Ditron. That made him easy to work with.
I didn’t expect him to be so quick to take the bait.
As Susan and Calliope entered the main house, she muttered with a sigh.
“Honestly, who’d want to stay by his side for long?”
Calliope had, under the guise of kindness, offered Ditron’s servant a generous severance package equal to his “wedding savings,” along with a letter of recommendation.
Though the servant had seemed slightly skeptical at first, she explained that, since Ditron’s health was declining, she wanted to assign someone with medical knowledge to his side. That was reason enough to convince him. Ditron, after all, could no longer afford to maintain multiple attendants.
“But I can’t just throw you out, after all your time with Granduncle. That wouldn’t be right, would it? I’ll make sure it’s handled properly—so would you be okay with this?”
“Of course!”
Despite her vague excuse, he accepted easily. He seemed to think he’d been given just enough justification to step aside. He even agreed to keep it secret—so Ditron wouldn’t be offended.
How little respect must they have shown him for him to follow along with someone he barely knows like this?
When Calliope arrived back at her room, she bumped into Jack, who had just returned.
As soon as they stepped inside, he reported:
“Deyloren accepted.”
“What did she want in return?”
“Support for her injured sister.”
“That’s an easy one. As soon as the current servant leaves, make sure she becomes Ditron’s new maid.”
Calliope flicked her fingers. Susan, understanding instantly, placed a pen in her hand. Calliope sat on the sofa and quickly sketched something on a blank piece of paper. From the shape, it was clearly a plant—an herb.
Susan tilted her head, inspecting the drawing.
“My lady, what is this?”
“Give this to Deyloren. Tell her to find this and mix it in with the Ronz he uses. If she can’t find it, tell her to come back to me.”
Calliope leaned back, resting her head against the sofa.
The plant she’d drawn was commonly used among commoners to treat internal injuries. The problem was—she knew what it looked like, but not what it was called.
No need to rush.
Ronz was an expensive herb used by nobles. Brewed into tea, it calmed the nerves and stabilized the body. As a powdered salve, it worked as a pain reliever. Ditron used it often.
But when combined with that plant, it became a slow-acting poison.
Calliope propped her elbow on the armrest and rested her chin on the back of her hand.
A toxin that drains vitality, disrupts digestion… over time, it causes internal sluggishness and paralysis. If I remember right…
Susan stayed quiet, sensing that her mistress was deep in thought. Calliope stared at her drawing.
No one had discovered the reaction before. Nobles would never combine a high-grade herb like Ronz with some weed commoners used.
The plant didn’t even have enough potency to be classified as a true herb. The combination had only been discovered later—by a Saintess during the Demon King’s subjugation campaign.
They had brought Ronz with them for personal use, and when one of them was injured, they combined it with a few common plants said to treat internal damage. That mistake cost them dearly. The victim had been Isaac—him.
Calliope let out a faint, bitter smile.
When the Saintess returned from the campaign, she published a book chronicling their journey. The story of Ronz and that herb was in it. She hadn’t been able to identify the plant’s name, but she drew its shape beside the warning to ensure no one else would repeat their mistake.
Calliope had read that book over and over—so many times that she could now perfectly replicate even the Saintess’s crude sketch. She read it not for the plant—but for Isaac’s final moments.
She slowly opened and closed her eyes.
I never thought I’d use that information this way… but in this situation, there’s nothing better.
“Anything else happen today?”
Jack answered.
“Ah—Young Master Kaphir and Lady Carolie stopped by.”
“Weren’t they supposed to come tomorrow?”
“They said they’d return at ten tomorrow morning, since you weren’t in.”
“I thought I was just lounging around this house, but apparently, I don’t get a break.”
Calliope sighed dramatically but stood from her seat. It was time to meet with Illan, as he’d requested earlier. Jack, quick to understand she was preparing to leave, followed her closely. As Calliope stepped out of her room, she made up her mind—I’ll just speak with Father and rest properly afterward.
When she arrived outside Illan’s office, someone happened to be exiting. She glanced up and immediately recognized the face.
Ah, one of the Marchioness’s maids.
The maid had an unremarkable appearance, but she didn’t just pass Calliope by. She paused, offered the polite nods required of a noble, then—seemingly seizing the opportunity—spoke after getting permission.
“The Marchioness asks if you’ll join her for dinner tomorrow evening.”
“The Marchioness?”
Calliope tilted her head slightly. She had assumed their last conversation would be their final private exchange.
But then she nodded.
She did, after all, have something else to ask.
“Please let her know I’ll be there.”
