SMR | Chapter 83

~Chapter 83~

“I don’t know,” Cedric muttered shortly as he poured himself another cup of water.

He wasn’t sure how much of the drug he had taken, and honestly, he didn’t really care. He understood why Edgar seemed worried and anxious beside him—anyone would be if their friend had just been drugged in the middle of a high-society party.

But Cedric wasn’t concerned with identifying the exact drug or investigating its effects.

He was simply relieved that whatever had been in his glass wasn’t poison.

Death didn’t frighten him. What mattered was that if he died suddenly—without an heir—the noble house of Kailas, which his father had worked so hard to build up, would crumble like dust. That was the only reason he couldn’t die yet.

‘My butler is going to lose his mind over this. He’s already worried about me checking everything I eat or drink. This’ll drive him mad.’

He reached for his water again, but a wave of dizziness washed over him.

“Damn it.”

Cedric pressed his fingers against his head, grinding out a low curse.

Thanks to Harriet’s advice—to drink lots of water and use the restroom—he didn’t feel as out of control as before. The drug-induced haze, the overwhelming heat in his body, had subsided. Still, his speech and thoughts weren’t back to normal. He moved and spoke more slowly than usual, like his limbs were weighed down.

Edgar sat beside him, staying as close as possible to keep Cedric from public view as much as possible. His friend was shielding him not only physically but also from the inevitable stares.

“Man, it’s lucky Harriet was the one with you. If it had been anyone else, this would’ve been a massive scandal. I mean, who would reject spending a night with Cedric Kailas?” Edgar added teasingly.

Cedric responded with a dry scoff.

Edgar wasn’t wrong, but he didn’t know the full story. That gazebo hadn’t been a coincidence. Harriet hadn’t just happened to be there—Cedric had followed her there—not by coincidence, not by accident. He had chased after her.

‘Did she meet Tez Roark by coincidence too…? Or was it something planned?’

He didn’t want to believe Harriet would arrange to meet a man like that in such a secluded part of the garden. Tez had a reputation—a womanizer, notorious for his seductive ways. If Harriet had really wanted to meet him for that kind of reason, she wouldn’t have looked so furious when Cedric had shown up.

‘Stop it. I’m thinking nonsense again.’

Cedric downed the rest of his water.

Cold water wasn’t enough to clear his head. Harriet—her face, her voice, her touch—still filled his thoughts.

Oddly enough, the one to distract him from that was another woman.

While Edgar had gone off briefly to fetch a fresh water bottle, Cedric heard a familiar voice at his side.

“Your Grace. I was worried when you suddenly disappeared. Where did you go?”

It was her. The black-haired woman with pale skin and striking red lips—the one who had pulled him toward the greenhouse earlier.

‘Ah, right. Leslie. That was her name.’

She had been one of Albert’s so-called “friends.” A pawn in his twisted plan.

Without hesitation, she moved closer and gently brushed her hand down Cedric’s forearm.

“Why don’t you come with me? It’s boring here.”

What had sounded hot and tempting earlier now grated on his nerves. Just the sound of her voice annoyed him.

But strangely enough, recalling the moments just before he found Harriet—his body heating up, the haze in his mind—was helping him regain clarity.

Cedric clenched his nearly empty water glass tightly and spoke with cold precision.

“Go back to Albert and tell him this: making me angry will cost him more than he can afford.”

Leslie blinked, caught off guard. “Pardon?”

Cedric didn’t reply. He simply turned his head and shot a cutting glare in Albert’s direction before rising to his feet.

Just then, Edgar returned with the water.

“Let’s head out, Edgar,” Cedric said. “We should find Lord Laurel and say our goodbyes.”

“Huh? You’re leaving already?”

Without explaining further, Cedric pulled Edgar with him to find their host.

Behind them, Leslie bit her lip in frustration and stormed back to Albert.

“I told you this would happen! He knows it was you—he even sent a message! I said I didn’t want to do it!”

Albert, who had insisted she go back to try again with Cedric, looked stunned. He had believed the drug would still be working.

“No way. The effects shouldn’t have worn off yet.”

“He’s been drinking water nonstop. He probably knows how to flush it out. And he warned you.”

Hearing that, Albert swallowed hard.

Still, after a moment, he shook his head. “He has no proof. He can’t accuse me of anything publicly. He doesn’t have any evidence.”

That much was true.

Without solid proof, Cedric couldn’t take legal action or publicly shame him.

“I should’ve used the Kaberdeen,” Leslie muttered. “We won’t get another chance like this.”

“Dying isn’t enough,” Albert replied. “He needs to be ruined first. His name, his reputation—everything.”

Leslie had suggested using Kaberdeen—a deadly poison from the kingdom of Firma. It was colorless, tasteless, odorless—perfect for assassinations. But it was extremely expensive to harvest, and a single small bottle could cost a lot of money.

Albert had managed to get three bottles and refused to waste them on what he called a “test run.”

It wasn’t that he was afraid of killing Cedric—it was that he wanted Cedric to fall from grace before he died.

“You’re going to regret this failure,” Leslie warned.

“Let’s call it a practice round,” Albert muttered, trying to sound confident.

He raised his glass again and forced a laugh with his companions, but his right leg twitched uncontrollably under the table.

Leslie didn’t hide her disgust. She glared toward the ballroom exit where Cedric had disappeared.

***

SLAM!

The door burst open with a loud bang.

Leslie threw off her shawl and tossed it onto the couch in a fury. She was clearly fuming.

“What now?” barked a rough male voice.

An older man looked over at her from the corner of the room. Officially, he was known as her father. In reality, he was not related to her by blood at all. Like her, he was a spy and assassin sent from the kingdom of Firma.

“Albert’s useless,” Leslie spat. “He doesn’t want Cedric dead. He wants to toy with him. Make himself feel superior.”

“I told you he wasn’t reliable,” the man grunted.

“I could’ve killed Cedric tonight if it weren’t for him!”

That caught the old man’s interest. “What happened?”

Leslie relayed the entire story: the elegant plan, the use of concentrated Anghelic, how Cedric had almost lost control, how it had nearly worked.

“I begged him to let me use Kaberdeen,” she added. “But he insisted on using his precious drug.”

“He’s obsessed with that stuff,” the man muttered. “But you—why didn’t you go ahead and use Kaberdeen anyway?”

“Because I already used my emergency dose on some idiot who got too close!” Leslie snapped. I was counting on Albert to use his, but he wouldn’t give it up.”

“You should’ve found a way to take it from him,” the man said, his voice turning cold. “Don’t tell me you’re going soft. Thinking of betraying your homeland?”

“Are you insane? Don’t even joke about that!” she shouted. “You’re the one lounging around here while I deal with all the filth outside!”

Their eyes locked, full of hostility.

They weren’t just colleagues—they were watchdogs over each other. That was the nature of their relationship.

A moment of silence passed between them.

Then, footsteps echoed from the staircase.

“Ugh. Can’t you keep it down? I can’t even sleep with all this yelling.”

A woman appeared—elegant, sharp-eyed. She was their leader in disguise, currently playing the role of Baroness Auger.

“I’m getting tired of being constantly accused,” Leslie muttered. “I’ve endured enough tonight, and I still intend to complete my mission.”

The baroness chuckled lightly. “Don’t be too hard on our dear daughter. She’s vital to the mission.”

“I only meant to keep her focused,” the old man grumbled.

The baroness retrieved a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet—imported from Firma—and poured three glasses. She passed them around.

Leslie grabbed hers and downed it in one gulp.

The baroness took slow, delicate sips and then said thoughtfully, “I actually understand Albert’s reasoning. Sometimes, simple death is too merciful. I kind of admire the desire to utterly destroy someone before the end.”

Leslie and the man turned to her, surprised.

She smiled faintly.

“Cedric Kailas must die. But if he dies now, the Empire will paint him as a hero and come down on Firma like a storm.”