Chapter 7
[That damn alcohol! Can’t you stop drinking already?]
[And if I do, then what?]
Armin would say that while looking at Diana Isla, who pleaded for him to quit drinking.
[What would change?]
Would our relationship improve just because I quit drinking?
Would the future of the territory suddenly brighten up if I stopped?
Would this humiliation disappear just because I stopped drinking?
He never said those words out loud out of minimal courtesy toward Diana Isla, but she could read them clearly in his twisted smile.
Even so, Diana Isla truly believed alcohol was the root of all problems.
If only she could talk to Armin while he was sober—
If only—
She believed that throughout their marriage, but I already know how her wishful thinking ends.
“Nothing would’ve changed.”
In the end, she never let go of Valther.
Even as her husband risked his life to save her, she ran to Valther.
Even when she died miserably, she couldn’t let go of that attachment.
In short, their relationship was irreparable.
Not unless one of them died.
And there’s one more thing—
Armin had another reason why he couldn’t stop drinking.
“I guess Diana Isla never figured that out.”
“How did you find out?”
Armin asked me in a slow, relaxed voice.
He still held the poisoned cup in his hand.
“A man about to die sure asks a lot of questions.”
“Well, curiosity is still curiosity.”
He smiled at me after saying that.
But I didn’t smile back.
Seeing that, he wiped the smile from his face slightly and asked,
“If you’re the one who poisoned this cup, wouldn’t your life be in danger too? Doesn’t that bother you?”
A subtle question.
In other words…
“You don’t think I’m the one who poisoned the cup.”
That’s why, even in the previous life, he drank the poison right in front of Diana Isla without hesitation.
Because even if he died, he thought nothing in her life would truly change.
Or perhaps—
[Then go ahead, stab me.]
Perhaps he thought her life might actually improve without him.
Regardless of what he hoped for, one thing is certain—
The man before me is insane.
“The poison on this cup is made from dried and steamed Ophiur thorns, native to the North. Only someone very familiar with the area could’ve used it. It’s hard to believe you planted someone in the North in advance for a marriage that was arranged barely two months ago.”
He even knows the name of the poison—yet still won’t put down the cup?
I really want to kill him.
With my own hands.
Preferably with my broken Gram.
“So you’re saying someone from a nearby territory was behind this—”
“No more answering questions with questions.”
As if he knew I was stalling for time, he cut me off.
“People will be coming soon. To collect evidence of our marriage.”
“Evidence, meaning—”
“Virgin’s blood.”
I frowned deeply at those words.
Sensing my contempt, he chuckled.
“What did you expect from the North? This is a place where savagery breathes, madam.”
“……”
Doesn’t matter.
What matters now is getting that damned poisoned cup out of Armin’s hand.
I pointed to the sword mounted above the fireplace.
My Gram.
“First of all, that sword.”
“……?”
He raised an eyebrow.
“What kind of lunatic keeps a broken sword in the marital bedroom? If it were me—”
I scowled as my throat burned.
“If it were me, I’d have thrown it away immediately. Especially if it’s a painful reminder of defeat.”
Even if that sword was my Gram.
Naturally.
I made it, but it’s still a useless sword.
It was created solely to surpass my father’s Gram—
Yet it lost in a single clash.
If it hadn’t been for Armin’s exceptional skill and cowardly Valther’s hesitation,
The moment my Gram broke, the one holding it should’ve lost their head as well.
So what I made—
The five years I poured into crafting that blade—
All trash.
“But you hung it there. That’s like a lord mounting his own decapitated corpse on the castle walls. If anyone wants to display their shame, they must be one of two types.”
The smile disappeared from his face.
“Either they’re used to humiliation, or they want to disappear from this world.”
“……”
“And you…”
I looked at the poisoned wine in his hand and continued.
“You clearly look like the former.”
At that, Armin gave a faint smirk.
But I didn’t stop.
“And maybe, just maybe, you want to die before that humiliation becomes too familiar.”
A faint crack appeared on his expression.
But he quickly composed himself.
He looked at me with a subtle expression.
“I never asked you why I want to die. I asked how you knew this cup was poisoned.”
He looked irritated now.
And as he said, his time was running out.
Soon the priest would arrive.
To confirm the blood on the bedsheets—or the blood pouring from Armin’s body.
“What does it matter? As you said, you’ll be dead soon, and I’ll be there when it happens. Suspicion is inevitable anyway.”
I glared at him with fury.
Diana Isla never escaped suspicion for nearly two years.
It’s not that she did everything wrong.
I can’t say there wasn’t a part of her that hoped her husband would die and the marriage would be annulled.
But still.
You, who drank the poison despite knowing everything that night—
You’re the coward.
“You’ll still go through with it, won’t you? Leaving me behind. This castle. The people who trust only you.”
“You’re the one who wanted me dead.”
Then, in a low voice, Armin spoke.
His eyes still looked drowsy, but his voice was more serious than ever.
[If it were me, I would’ve just died.]
Only then did I remember what Diana Isla—what I—had said at the engagement ceremony.
“If it were me, I would’ve rather died. Better that than live in disgrace.”
I had said that while slapping his cheek.
Right.
That was me.
I, Diana Isla.
Damn it.
To accept that so soon—
It’s disorienting, but—
“It’s not impossible.”
“What if I’ve changed?”
I raised my eyes.
Glaring at him, I said:
“What if now, I want someone else dead instead of you?”
“Like who?”
He gave a faint smile.
I answered:
“Valther Kainen.”
“……”
“The Emperor of this damn empire.”
I clenched my teeth as I stared him down.
“You’re telling me that now—”
“If you don’t believe me, that’s fine.”
I stood up.
Then approached him.
Pointing to the cup in his hand, I asked:
“Then how do you think I knew it was poisoned?”
I bit my lip.
Yes. Like you said, I could give up and run.
Or, like you, I could give up everything and die.
Maybe another Diana Isla might have chosen that.
But I’m not that Diana Isla.
I am Diana.
Goddess of the Moon.
Daughter of the empire’s greatest blacksmith.
I can do anything. I can create anything.
That’s who I am.
“My father killed your father.”
“……!”
“Marquis Isla believed Valther would make me Empress. He did a lot of dirty work. Including this.”
I pointed to the poisoned cup in his hand.
At my words, he looked at the cup with interest.
Then turned his eyes back to me.
“Quite a tale, madam. But—”
He stood up.
Before I could stop him, he downed the poisoned wine.
“……!”
My face twisted in horror.
As I reached for him, he flung the cup away and laughed.
“Even if your love changed now, what good would that do?”
He wiped the wine from his lips with the back of his hand.
I clenched my fists.
What good would it do?
With such a disgraceful love—
How could I change this humiliating situation?
You’re asking me that?
You’re asking Diana Isla that again?
Then—
“I’ll answer you.”
I grabbed Armin Wilhelm’s shoulder, now slightly unsteady.
Even a sword master can’t resist poison once it’s in their system.
I rose on my toes and pressed my lips to his.
As his lips parted in surprise, I seized the moment.
Like a swordsman aiming for an opening, it was precise and swift.
My tongue, like a finely-forged blade, pierced through his defenses.
Clumsily but persistently, it explored his mouth.
Soft flesh, hard teeth, rough palate—
I ravaged them.
I thought the process would be ridiculous.
But it wasn’t.
There was heat.
Your flesh burns, just like mine.
Your blood runs hot too.
You have a fire in your heart, don’t you?
I knew it instantly.
And when I pulled back, having sucked away every trace of the poison—
His eyes had widened.
The world spun.
The floor wobbled, tilting toward me.
Something firm caught me around the waist.
“What are you…?”
His voice sounded faint.
Of course.
Even if Armin Wilhelm had some resistance to poison, this frail body of mine did not.
The Ophiur poison spread like wildfire.
I gave a ragged laugh.
“At least… we’ll die together.”
The one thing Diana Isla was never able to do in her lifetime.
