To Winfred, who was gripped by the fear of death, her voice felt like the only lifeline connecting him to this world.
He drank the liquid in the glass in one gulp, as Aila had instructed.
It would be okay soon. There was no doubt in his mind that it wouldn't be.
Because Aila said so.
And a moment later, Winfred felt something rise up inside him and retched, then vomited a large clot of blood.
The anxiety that the prescription might be wrong only lasted for a moment.
As Aila wiped his mouth with a handkerchief, Winfred's breathing became noticeably easier.
“Winfred...”
Hiram, who had been so terrified that he couldn't even breathe, finally relaxed, came over to his son's bed, knelt down, and lowered himself to his son's level.
“Winnie, my son...”
“...Ah, Father.”
Hiram stroked his son's cheek, which had turned pale in an instant.
There were so many things he wanted to say, but he couldn't bring himself to open his mouth. All he could do was let the tears fall.
“Your Majesty, I will take a look.”
The court doctor, who had been waiting for Hiram to calm down, spoke hesitantly.
Although the Crown Prince's condition seemed to have improved on the surface, it was necessary to check him again.
“Oh, that’s right.”
As Hiram quickly left the hospital bed, the doctor carefully examined Winfred's condition.
"You seem a little weak, but there doesn't seem to be any major injuries. I think you'll feel better soon after a few weeks of rest."
The director of the academy and the palace staff both felt the Crown Prince's pulse several times with suspicious expressions, then stepped back with surprised expressions.
It was a situation that he couldn't believe even after seeing it with his own two eyes.
"Thank you so much, Aila. I dread to even imagine what would have happened without you. I don't know how I can ever repay this kindness."
Hiram expressed his gratitude, as if he would even crown Aila with the Emperor's crown if she so desired.
In fact, he was curious about how she knew the antidote that even the most renowned scholars didn't know about, but he didn't want to bother the benefactor who saved his son's life by asking her something difficult to answer.
"Thank you. I'm just glad Winfred is safe."
Aila ran her palm down her face. It felt like a decade had passed since Winfred's collapse, just hours later.
"I'm even more grateful when you say that. I'll never forget this favor and will definitely repay it. I truly owe you a great debt."
Hiram squeezed Aila's hand and thanked her again. It was late, so he offered her a room to sleep in the palace.
Everyone was leaving so the patient could rest, but Aila cautiously opened her mouth as if she still had something to say.
“I... can I talk to Winfred alone for a moment?”
"Well, if that's what you want, why not? Come on, Roderick."
He was willing to give up the entire palace, but what was the point of stepping aside for a moment? Hiram even took care of Roderick, who hesitated and trembled, and left the children alone.
Alone in the quiet bedroom, Winfred scratched his cheek awkwardly and expressed his gratitude. This was already the second time she had saved his life.
“Aila, thank you so much...”
But he couldn't finish his sentence because Aila hugged him tightly.
“Eh, Aila?”
“...Thank you, Win. Thank you for not dying.”
There was a hint of moisture in her voice, and he could feel the shoulder she was burying his face in becoming damp.
Winfred, at a loss, patted Aila on the back.
“Oh, don’t cry, Ayla.”
Aila, who was holding Winfred tightly, wiped away the tears that were falling and looked into his eyes.
"You know, Winfred. I think I like you. I can't imagine a world without you."
Winfred hiccuped, startled by her sudden confession. It was truly unbelievable.
He began to wonder if he had died from poisoning earlier and if he had already gone to heaven.
“What, what did you say?”
“I like you.”
At the sight of Aila once again powerfully expressing her love, Winfred cautiously pinched his cheek. Judging by the pain it felt, it didn't seem like a dream or an illusion.
As the reality of her words slowly began to sink in, his face began to flush red. It wouldn't have been surprising if he had burst out laughing.
“Me, me, me, me too...! I like you too! I liked you from the moment I saw you!!”
Winfred stuttered as he poured out his heart.
It was truly a dreamlike situation.
Of course, this wasn't the confession he'd dreamed of. He wanted to confess in a romantic setting, like the handsome male protagonist in a romance novel.
It was a situation he could never have imagined being the first to confess to Aila.
But what if she likes him?
"So, Winfred. Don't get sick like you did today. Got it?"
“...Uh, uh! I’ll never get sick. I’ll exercise every day and eat a variety of foods!”
At her command, Winfred nodded vigorously.
Maybe it was because he had just nearly died, but he felt a little dizzy from the extreme movements, but he was so happy that he didn't care about such trivial things.
Winfred smiled happily and hugged Aila tightly. He felt like he had won the world.
A week later.
Winfred, who had been resting comfortably to recuperate, got up from his sickbed.
The day after taking the poison, he was shocked to hear from Hiram that it was Binka who had poisoned him and that she was Byron's daughter.
He blamed himself for his foolishness in trusting and following Binka, who approached him with bad intentions.
To such a son, his father, Hiram, told this story.
"It's not your fault for believing in the goodness of humanity; it's the evildoers. The ability to discern who can be trusted and who cannot is something that develops naturally with age, so don't blame yourself too much. And no one is perfect. I hope you'll be as forgiving of your own mistakes as you are of others."
As his father said, accepting and forgiving his mistakes generously was not as easy as I thought.
But he decided to forgive himself, using this incident as a stepping stone to further growth.
“Your Highness, it is time to depart.”
Joseph cautiously called Winfred.
In fact, he was worried that the Crown Prince, who had almost died just a week ago, was already going out, but today was an important event that Winfred couldn't miss, so he was helping him prepare to go out without saying a word.
“Yes, let’s go.”
Winfred put on his coat and got into the carriage.
Because today was the day when Byron and the traitors involved in his treason were sentenced.
Because the sentencing and execution were to take place simultaneously, the gallows were already lined up in the wide square, and the people gathered around them to watch the execution of the most heinous traitors.
And among the crowd, Aila stood with a cold expression on her face, her thoughts unreadable.
Winfred cautiously approached her. Aila, who turned her head at the sound of someone approaching, met his eyes and smiled faintly, expressing her delight.
Winfred, who had come over and taken a seat next to Aila, gently took her hand.
In fact, he was worried whether Aila would be okay with witnessing this scene today. It wouldn't be a pleasant sight, would it? Many people would die, and everyone would cheer at the sight of such a brutal scene.
Although he was greedy and wanted to show her only beautiful and happy things, Winfred said nothing.
Because he knows how much Aila has waited for this day, for this day to come.
The suffering she had endured because of Byron was not something Winfred could easily understand.
She just hoped that today, at this moment, Byron would pay the price for his sins and her heart would be lightened even a little.
And a little later.
A line of carriages carrying prisoners began to enter through the noisy crowd.
Byron, his daughter Binka, and the nobles who supported him with weapons, troops, and funds.
Among the gaunt faces of those who had suffered greatly during the investigation, Aila encountered two familiar faces.
It was Laura and her uncle Cloud, who had been close for a long time.
“...”
Cloud bowed his head before Aila with a pale, pale face.
Laura, who was supporting her uncle, bit her lower lip in anger when their eyes met, but she didn't raise her eyebrows as venomously as before.
She had been in a daze all day, speechless, like a woman who had lost her soul after seeing her mother die right before her eyes, but she seemed to have regained some of her energy after Cloud woke up a few days ago.
"I have to go now, Aila. I'll be back."
“...Have a nice trip.”
Winfred let go of Aila's hand, which he was holding tightly, and stepped onto the podium to pronounce a sentence on the traitors.
Sentences were handed down one by one, starting with those simply implicated in minor crimes. Most cases involved confiscation of property and titles, exile abroad, or forced labor.
And as more and more people began to commit serious crimes, more and more were sentenced to death and stood before the gallows. Marquis Caenis was one of them.
“Cloud Air, Laura Air.”
As their names came out of Winfred's mouth, Cloud and Laura came to the podium and knelt.
"These two individuals were the closest associates of the traitor Byron Lionel Vito Peles, who usurped the throne, and were deeply guilty of aiding and abetting his treason. However, they are deeply remorseful and have actively cooperated in uncovering their other crimes, so their sentences are reduced."
Although she had already heard that her life was guaranteed, Laura, who was still tense and couldn't breathe properly due to the fear of being sentenced to death, let out a sigh at the mention of a reduced sentence.
“Exile them to the north and order them to be exiled to Wirianchi.”
At the Crown Prince's pronouncement, Laura and Cloud prostrated themselves on the floor in gratitude. They would be confined to their cramped quarters, unable to move, but at least their lives were spared.
After sentencing Cloud and Laura, Winfred turned the page to call out the next criminal.
Then, frozen for a moment, he looked down at the writing on the paper. It was the name of the person who had hurt him so deeply.
He sighed softly, calmed himself, and opened his mouth cautiously.
“...Binka.”
A short name of just two letters.
If it weren't for this situation, the surname 'Vito Peles' might have followed the name 'Binka'.
He drank the liquid in the glass in one gulp, as Aila had instructed.
It would be okay soon. There was no doubt in his mind that it wouldn't be.
Because Aila said so.
And a moment later, Winfred felt something rise up inside him and retched, then vomited a large clot of blood.
The anxiety that the prescription might be wrong only lasted for a moment.
As Aila wiped his mouth with a handkerchief, Winfred's breathing became noticeably easier.
“Winfred...”
Hiram, who had been so terrified that he couldn't even breathe, finally relaxed, came over to his son's bed, knelt down, and lowered himself to his son's level.
“Winnie, my son...”
“...Ah, Father.”
Hiram stroked his son's cheek, which had turned pale in an instant.
There were so many things he wanted to say, but he couldn't bring himself to open his mouth. All he could do was let the tears fall.
“Your Majesty, I will take a look.”
The court doctor, who had been waiting for Hiram to calm down, spoke hesitantly.
Although the Crown Prince's condition seemed to have improved on the surface, it was necessary to check him again.
“Oh, that’s right.”
As Hiram quickly left the hospital bed, the doctor carefully examined Winfred's condition.
"You seem a little weak, but there doesn't seem to be any major injuries. I think you'll feel better soon after a few weeks of rest."
The director of the academy and the palace staff both felt the Crown Prince's pulse several times with suspicious expressions, then stepped back with surprised expressions.
It was a situation that he couldn't believe even after seeing it with his own two eyes.
"Thank you so much, Aila. I dread to even imagine what would have happened without you. I don't know how I can ever repay this kindness."
Hiram expressed his gratitude, as if he would even crown Aila with the Emperor's crown if she so desired.
In fact, he was curious about how she knew the antidote that even the most renowned scholars didn't know about, but he didn't want to bother the benefactor who saved his son's life by asking her something difficult to answer.
"Thank you. I'm just glad Winfred is safe."
Aila ran her palm down her face. It felt like a decade had passed since Winfred's collapse, just hours later.
"I'm even more grateful when you say that. I'll never forget this favor and will definitely repay it. I truly owe you a great debt."
Hiram squeezed Aila's hand and thanked her again. It was late, so he offered her a room to sleep in the palace.
Everyone was leaving so the patient could rest, but Aila cautiously opened her mouth as if she still had something to say.
“I... can I talk to Winfred alone for a moment?”
"Well, if that's what you want, why not? Come on, Roderick."
He was willing to give up the entire palace, but what was the point of stepping aside for a moment? Hiram even took care of Roderick, who hesitated and trembled, and left the children alone.
Alone in the quiet bedroom, Winfred scratched his cheek awkwardly and expressed his gratitude. This was already the second time she had saved his life.
“Aila, thank you so much...”
But he couldn't finish his sentence because Aila hugged him tightly.
“Eh, Aila?”
“...Thank you, Win. Thank you for not dying.”
There was a hint of moisture in her voice, and he could feel the shoulder she was burying his face in becoming damp.
Winfred, at a loss, patted Aila on the back.
“Oh, don’t cry, Ayla.”
Aila, who was holding Winfred tightly, wiped away the tears that were falling and looked into his eyes.
"You know, Winfred. I think I like you. I can't imagine a world without you."
Winfred hiccuped, startled by her sudden confession. It was truly unbelievable.
He began to wonder if he had died from poisoning earlier and if he had already gone to heaven.
“What, what did you say?”
“I like you.”
At the sight of Aila once again powerfully expressing her love, Winfred cautiously pinched his cheek. Judging by the pain it felt, it didn't seem like a dream or an illusion.
As the reality of her words slowly began to sink in, his face began to flush red. It wouldn't have been surprising if he had burst out laughing.
“Me, me, me, me too...! I like you too! I liked you from the moment I saw you!!”
Winfred stuttered as he poured out his heart.
It was truly a dreamlike situation.
Of course, this wasn't the confession he'd dreamed of. He wanted to confess in a romantic setting, like the handsome male protagonist in a romance novel.
It was a situation he could never have imagined being the first to confess to Aila.
But what if she likes him?
"So, Winfred. Don't get sick like you did today. Got it?"
“...Uh, uh! I’ll never get sick. I’ll exercise every day and eat a variety of foods!”
At her command, Winfred nodded vigorously.
Maybe it was because he had just nearly died, but he felt a little dizzy from the extreme movements, but he was so happy that he didn't care about such trivial things.
Winfred smiled happily and hugged Aila tightly. He felt like he had won the world.
***
A week later.
Winfred, who had been resting comfortably to recuperate, got up from his sickbed.
The day after taking the poison, he was shocked to hear from Hiram that it was Binka who had poisoned him and that she was Byron's daughter.
He blamed himself for his foolishness in trusting and following Binka, who approached him with bad intentions.
To such a son, his father, Hiram, told this story.
"It's not your fault for believing in the goodness of humanity; it's the evildoers. The ability to discern who can be trusted and who cannot is something that develops naturally with age, so don't blame yourself too much. And no one is perfect. I hope you'll be as forgiving of your own mistakes as you are of others."
As his father said, accepting and forgiving his mistakes generously was not as easy as I thought.
But he decided to forgive himself, using this incident as a stepping stone to further growth.
“Your Highness, it is time to depart.”
Joseph cautiously called Winfred.
In fact, he was worried that the Crown Prince, who had almost died just a week ago, was already going out, but today was an important event that Winfred couldn't miss, so he was helping him prepare to go out without saying a word.
“Yes, let’s go.”
Winfred put on his coat and got into the carriage.
Because today was the day when Byron and the traitors involved in his treason were sentenced.
Because the sentencing and execution were to take place simultaneously, the gallows were already lined up in the wide square, and the people gathered around them to watch the execution of the most heinous traitors.
And among the crowd, Aila stood with a cold expression on her face, her thoughts unreadable.
Winfred cautiously approached her. Aila, who turned her head at the sound of someone approaching, met his eyes and smiled faintly, expressing her delight.
Winfred, who had come over and taken a seat next to Aila, gently took her hand.
In fact, he was worried whether Aila would be okay with witnessing this scene today. It wouldn't be a pleasant sight, would it? Many people would die, and everyone would cheer at the sight of such a brutal scene.
Although he was greedy and wanted to show her only beautiful and happy things, Winfred said nothing.
Because he knows how much Aila has waited for this day, for this day to come.
The suffering she had endured because of Byron was not something Winfred could easily understand.
She just hoped that today, at this moment, Byron would pay the price for his sins and her heart would be lightened even a little.
And a little later.
A line of carriages carrying prisoners began to enter through the noisy crowd.
Byron, his daughter Binka, and the nobles who supported him with weapons, troops, and funds.
Among the gaunt faces of those who had suffered greatly during the investigation, Aila encountered two familiar faces.
It was Laura and her uncle Cloud, who had been close for a long time.
“...”
Cloud bowed his head before Aila with a pale, pale face.
Laura, who was supporting her uncle, bit her lower lip in anger when their eyes met, but she didn't raise her eyebrows as venomously as before.
She had been in a daze all day, speechless, like a woman who had lost her soul after seeing her mother die right before her eyes, but she seemed to have regained some of her energy after Cloud woke up a few days ago.
"I have to go now, Aila. I'll be back."
“...Have a nice trip.”
Winfred let go of Aila's hand, which he was holding tightly, and stepped onto the podium to pronounce a sentence on the traitors.
Sentences were handed down one by one, starting with those simply implicated in minor crimes. Most cases involved confiscation of property and titles, exile abroad, or forced labor.
And as more and more people began to commit serious crimes, more and more were sentenced to death and stood before the gallows. Marquis Caenis was one of them.
“Cloud Air, Laura Air.”
As their names came out of Winfred's mouth, Cloud and Laura came to the podium and knelt.
"These two individuals were the closest associates of the traitor Byron Lionel Vito Peles, who usurped the throne, and were deeply guilty of aiding and abetting his treason. However, they are deeply remorseful and have actively cooperated in uncovering their other crimes, so their sentences are reduced."
Although she had already heard that her life was guaranteed, Laura, who was still tense and couldn't breathe properly due to the fear of being sentenced to death, let out a sigh at the mention of a reduced sentence.
“Exile them to the north and order them to be exiled to Wirianchi.”
At the Crown Prince's pronouncement, Laura and Cloud prostrated themselves on the floor in gratitude. They would be confined to their cramped quarters, unable to move, but at least their lives were spared.
After sentencing Cloud and Laura, Winfred turned the page to call out the next criminal.
Then, frozen for a moment, he looked down at the writing on the paper. It was the name of the person who had hurt him so deeply.
He sighed softly, calmed himself, and opened his mouth cautiously.
“...Binka.”
A short name of just two letters.
If it weren't for this situation, the surname 'Vito Peles' might have followed the name 'Binka'.
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