Chapter 68
His silver hair caught Elysia’s eyes.
Marcelli’s hair, neatly braided behind his right ear, hung just to his shoulders.
Elysia liked his silver hair.
That dull, rough silver hair reminded her of someone.
‘Eden’s was white, though.’
And besides, Eden was never this frivolous.
In her memory, Eden was still just a young boy.
Marcelli, the ruler of the slums, had once been a slave.
And not just any slave, but one who repeatedly found his way back to the slave market.
The scars on his back bore witness to that cycle of being bought and returned.
He had been returned five times.
Or, more precisely, he had killed the noble who bought him five different times.
It wasn’t that he excelled in combat. But in assassination, there was no one more skilled.
Elysia valued that above all.
She had deliberately bought Marcelli back after a return and installed him as the leader of the slums.
“You’re so frivolous about everything, yet somehow your mouth stays shut. I’ll never understand it.”
Elysia, arms crossed, sighed as she spoke.
Marcelli laughed heartily.
“Come on, Risa. If I were loose-lipped, you’d have killed me already.”
Leaning back, Marcelli raised a bottle of liquor to his lips. Elysia didn’t deny his words.
He called her Risa.
Since he wasn’t allowed to call her by name, Marcelli had coined his own way of addressing her.
He was lighthearted, but clever, and quick on the uptake.
He didn’t even know his own age, so Elysia could only guess he was around the same as her.
Neither completely young, nor fully grown.
Still, his years of hardship had sharpened his sense for survival, and she thought that was a blessing.
Elysia was thoroughly satisfied she had brought him in.
“Here. This is everything I’ve made so far.”
Rummaging under the table, Marcelli placed a leather pouch before her.
Lisbeth tucked it away on Elysia’s behalf.
“Combine this with what you already have, and he’s done for. Your father, that is.”
Marcelli drank deeply as he spoke.
“Good work. I won’t be seeing you for a while.”
Since this was enough to reach a lethal dose, unless new reasons arose, Elysia wouldn’t need to come back to him.
“Cold as always. And that’s exactly why we work so well together.”
Knowing his own looks were striking, Marcelli even liked the fact that Elysia never succumbed to them.
He often joked she should be careful not to fall for him.
Elysia always ignored him stone-faced, and Lisbeth usually responded by gagging and flipping him off.
“Marcelli. Don’t think you’re my equal.”
She knew he wasn’t a fool who couldn’t see his place.
Elysia rose from her seat as she spoke.
Then the hulking men behind Marcelli scowled, rolling their shoulders forward.
“Hey, miss. You’ve been acting real cocky. Don’t care what noble house you crawled out of—if you don’t know how scary the world is, your head and your body’ll get separated real quick—”
Before the brute could finish stepping forward, Marcelli shot up and smashed a bottle over his head.
Glass shattered. The man crumpled forward.
Liquor splashed across Marcelli’s cheek.
He wiped it away with a finger, still smiling.
Sitting back down, he said,
“Sorry, sorry. He’s new. Doesn’t know any better yet.”
“……”
Elysia stared icily down at the unconscious man.
“Want me to kill him if he bothered you?”
“Forget it.”
She sighed deeply and turned away.
“As if you’d really do it.”
She didn’t even glance at him as she spoke, then walked past Lisbeth at a leisurely pace.
Lisbeth gave the liquor-soaked brute a passing glance before following after Elysia.
“You catch on quick, don’t you.”
Marcelli chuckled behind them.
Had he been a little slower, the one losing his head would’ve been that brute.
Not by Marcelli’s hand, but by Lisbeth’s, standing like a wall at Elysia’s back.
Marcelli let out a breath of relief inside.
And then, to smooth things over further, he shared the tidbit he had saved for just such a moment.
“Oh, right! Risa. Someone from your family’s been buying drugs from us lately. That okay with you? Don’t worry, not close family—someone from another estate.”
At that, Elysia stopped mid-step.
She turned her head slowly toward Marcelli.
“Of course, it’s not the same stuff I sell you. This batch is yours alone, as promised.”
His eyes curved slyly, like a snake. He was carefully gauging her reaction.
The only thought in his head was not to anger her.
“He buys narcotics monthly. Should I keep selling?”
It meant he was ready to stop if she said so.
“Leave it. I already figured he’d fall into that.”
“Oh-ho. So I keep selling?”
“Yeah.”
Elysia had already guessed. In the original story, Bon Aste had become addicted too.
Especially now—once Duke Partin’s health had started declining, word of his reliance on Elysia would’ve reached the Aste viscount’s ears.
And now that she had formally become the young duke, Bon’s jealousy was surely eating him alive.
The viscount had been sending her letters constantly, clearly shaken by the news.
A smile spread across Elysia’s lips.
“I’d love it if that bastard overdosed and died.”
Her red lips whispered a curse.
Her feelings toward the Aste viscount weren’t anger, but something closer to revulsion.
Her smiling eyes glinted with murderous intent.
Marcelli’s cheek twitched.
He could never quite tell whether Elysia was in a good mood or not.
“Don’t harass the townsfolk just because I’m not around.”
She spoke as if this time she truly meant to leave.
Relief washed over Marcelli’s face.
“Of course.”
He had no intention of pushing his luck. He had no desire to return to slavery.
He was lucky enough to be acknowledged for his talents and live as the slum’s ruler. He liked it this way.
Best to cling to the right power.
That was the one lesson he’d learned from killing nobles.
Waving them off, Marcelli watched Elysia and Lisbeth leave.
Once they were gone, he collapsed back onto his sofa.
The whole thing had been mentally exhausting.
Marcelli usually killed with drugs.
His concoctions could worsen existing ailments, or magnify trivial illnesses into deadly ones.
In short, they left no evidence.
It was an incredibly useful skill.
How a man who’d lived as a slave all his life had learned such knowledge was a mystery, but Elysia only cared about results.
But there was one problem.
Duke Partin had no illness.
He was annoyingly healthy.
So Elysia devised another way.
Create an illness.
A disease beyond current medical understanding.
An illness no physician had ever heard of.
At first, the request gave Marcelli a headache—but soon, he found himself enjoying the challenge.
Sometimes, watching him work, Elysia thought he seemed like an eccentric.
“Lisbeth. I think it’s time you kept that promise you made me.”
Stepping down from the carriage at the mansion, Elysia spoke.
Lisbeth immediately grasped what she meant, straightening her posture.
“Commander Dale’s strength doesn’t fade even with age. It’s becoming troublesome.”
She was now vice-captain.
That was the fruit of five years’ work.
But since she still couldn’t surpass Dale, that was where she remained.
Her confidence was even beginning to crumble from losing every sparring match.
“Do your best.”
Elysia patted her back.
Lisbeth flinched as though a stag beetle had landed on her.
‘I knew she wasn’t strong, but this little…’
She wondered if she should insist Elysia at least carry a dagger for self-defense.
Just then—
“Where, where did you two go without me!”
A wounded cry assailed them.
Elysia turned toward the sound with a sheepish smile.
Not far away, Ariel was running toward them.
“Ariel. I told you not to run, you’ll hurt your leg—”
Before Elysia could finish, Ariel threw herself straight into her arms.
“Waaah! How could you! You went out together and left me behind!”
She sobbed into Elysia’s chest—though clearly only pretending.
“It was business today, Ariel. That’s why we couldn’t take you.”
Elysia stroked her hair as she explained.
It was the plain truth. Yet still, guilt pricked at her.
“Lisbeth… Lisbeth, you even promised me…”
“Ah…”
“You promised we’d go out together…”
“Just the two of you?”
That was news to Elysia.
They almost always went out as three. The idea of just the two of them making such a promise never crossed her mind.
Her puzzled look made Lisbeth scratch the back of her neck.
“I… might have said it in passing…”
Yes, she had.
“I thought it was an order to escort you, my lady.”
From her perspective, that was all it had been.
Who would’ve thought Ariel had meant it as an invitation to spend time together.
Lisbeth’s reaction, as if hearing it for the first time, left Ariel gaping in shock.
She looked devastated.
“I hate you…”
Her clenched fists trembled, her voice thick with real tears this time.
“I hate you both!”
She wriggled free from Elysia’s arms and stormed off, running back the way she came.
Once again, Elysia and Lisbeth were left alone, staring at each other in confusion.
They had no way of knowing just how much courage it had taken Ariel to invite Lisbeth out in the first place.
