Guidelines for the Perfect Goodbye - Chapter 39
“The Young Marquis?”
“Yes. The butler thinks he looks seriously ill and has asked to gather Count Lasphilla and all the Rosencrantz guests.”
“Is that so?”
Ulysses didn’t even bat an eyelid, as if he was hearing about someone else’s family. Still, as a member of the Rosencrantz household, he stood up to respond to the summons.
Cecilia, with eyes wide like a startled rabbit, asked the footman.
“Is he alright?”
“The doctor hasn’t arrived yet, so we can’t be sure.”
“That’s serious…”
She looked at Ulysses with a troubled expression.
“Shall we go together?”
“No. This has nothing to do with you.”
Cecilia nodded timidly.
“Alright. Go ahead.”
Of course, her outward expression was mere pretense. In truth, she was all too pleased with Ulysses’s cold reply.
Indeed, it was none of her business.
“Go ahead?”
Ulysses repeated, smirking. Something about it seemed amusingly out of place for the situation.
(T/N: In Korean, the line is usually quite perfunctory and mostly said out of politeness, but literally means ‘go and come back’, which is why Ulysses reacted that way.)
“Lord Ulysses.”
The footman urged him.
“Please go now.”
Once Ulysses left, Cecilia, alone, sipped the cold tea like a thirsty person. Then, smiling faintly at the tea leaves settled at the bottom, she thought, a storm is about to hit Coffret Manor.
***
Nigel lay ill, delirious from early evening into the next day. A doctor summoned by Adam cautiously gave his opinion.
“It seems like he’s been poisoned.”
“Poison?”
Adam was incredulous.
“Who would dare poison the Young Marquis?”
Nigel Rosencrantz, being the heir to the dukedom and the youngest person to have ever taken the post of vice-captain of the Royal Guard, would have detected any common poison.
To poison such a man was no small feat.
It could be a misdiagnosis, but if that were the case, who would benefit from his death…
Adam’s eyes met Guinevere’s, and he internally dismissed the thought.
‘Impossible. How could my frail sister do such a thing?’
Yet his rational mind spoke up.
What if it’s true? If Guinevere poisoned the young marquis to pass the title to her son?
That’s fine. Ulysses was Caroline’s fiancé, and if he ended up inheriting the Rosencrantz dukedom, it would also be beneficial for House Lasphilla.
But what if…
What if the target would not only be Nigel?
Ulysses was the second heir to the Lasphilla estate. And just three years ago, before Nathan was born, Ulysses was the first in line to the Lasphilla County.
How different was his sister then from now? Was there any difference?
No, none at all. She genuinely celebrated Nathan’s birth and even shed tears at that moment.
I don’t suspect her.
“Butler.”
I’m not doubting her.
“Did you call for me, sir?”
It’s just to be sure. So that no one can suspect her. So that no one could belittle her.
To protect her.
“Search the mansion.”
“As you command, Master.”
The search began, even more thorough than when searching for Nigel’s pendant. This time they rummaged through not just the rooms, but personal belongings and clothes as well.
Adam looked troubled as he glanced at Guinevere.
“Sister, I…”
Guinevere gently covered his hand with a faint smile.
“It’s okay, Adam.”
“Sister.”
“Trust me.”
How could she comfort him with such a broad heart even when he was momentarily swayed by treacherous suspicion! She must be a saint. Such a woman couldn’t have used a dangerous poison.
It must be a misdiagnosis by the doctor. Certainly, he must have made a grave mistake…
“The poison has been found!”
A footman shouted. Adam was about to ask where when Guinevere beat him to it.
“What?”
Her voice was so sharp, it could have cut through glass. She quickly composed herself and asked.
“Oh my, where was such a dreadful thing found?”
The footman replied.
“It was found in Master Ulysses’s belongings.”
“…Ulysses?”
Guinevere’s expression turned blank before she laughed hollowly.
“Ha-ha, what? Ulysses? Ulysses?”
“Sister?”
Guinevere’s expression changed rapidly. Finally, with a grotesque smile stretching to her temples, she slowly raised her hand to her head and, gripping her hair, collapsed.
“Aaaah!”
“Sister! Are you okay?”
How could it be him!
‘It’s that bastard that keeps blocking my path! A useless dog who’s never been any help in my life!’
It couldn’t be Ulysses. He’s never been one to aid her plans; instead, he’s always been a hindrance.
He was the same when she wanted to kill Nigel’s mother and when she tried to kill Nigel. How many of her plans had failed because of him?
So, it couldn’t have been him who carried the poison. The culprit must be someone else.
Someone who planted the poison in his belongings to frame Ulysses.
