obsession chapter 23

Shariette recalled the information Nox had briefly shared with her on their journey. The gentle woman before her, with her golden hair and blue eyes, was the Duchess, Marianne Rubelot. The woman with the same raven hair as Nox was his sister, the Lady Nixia Rubelot. Shariette glanced between the Duchess and her children, who shared as much resemblance as a rosebush and a lily. 

She could almost picture the unseen Duke. As expected of the Rubelots, even their genes are potent. The epitome of those potent genes, wearing the most serene expression, spoke. “I’ve returned. This is the apothecary, Miss Shariette Verdett, whom I mentioned in my letter.” 

Nox, his smile painted on, pulled Shariette’s shoulder slightly, urging her forward. “I’ve brought her on with great difficulty as my personal physician, so I expect you to treat her accordingly.” The beautiful mother and daughter exchanged dubious glances. It was understandable, considering the message delivered three days prior contained a single sentence: Acquiring a new physician. – From Willowhill. They must have thought I was kidnapped. 

Yet, Nox’s respectful demeanor and emphatic tone made it seem as if he had genuinely “brought her on with great difficulty,” as if speaking of a prized possession, be it sister or son. Marianne was the first to greet her. “Welcome, Miss Verdett. My son is greatly indebted to you. I trust your journey was comfortable?” – If you were dragged here against your will, signal me. 

“Greetings, Madam. It was the most comfortable carriage ride I’ve ever experienced.” 

– Your carriage had lovely seats. Though her response was a veiled one, the thoughtful Duchess gave no outward sign and turned to her daughter. 

“Thank you for coming. I’m Nixia Rubelot. If Nox gives you any trouble, let me know. I’ll take care of him.” Nixia stepped toward Shariette with a light smile. She was the spitting image of her brother, especially in her crimson eyes and alluring aura. 

“Shariette Verdett. Thank you.” Shariette replied calmly, though she nearly bit her tongue. This was the very person Blanche had repeatedly, and unsuccessfully, plotted to kill! On days Blanche returned from social gatherings or balls—Shariette had no idea what those were like, having never attended one—six times out of ten, she would fly into a rage. 

“Agh! That damned Nixia! Always in my way! Sasha! Where are you, Sasha!” Shariette was the one who bore the brunt of it. She had always wondered what sort of person could provoke Blanche so consistently, and now, here she was. But why does she still seem afflicted? Nixia’s complexion was radiantly healthy at first glance. However, during her ten years at the Marquis of Argent’s estate, Shariette had handled countless medicines and poisons. She could distinguish most toxins and their effects even with her eyes closed. 

Especially this scent. I can’t mistake it. As Nixia drew closer, the scent became unmistakable. Faint when mixed with water, it was undetectable to most. Difficult to distinguish from the perfumes commonly used by nobles, Shariette, who had smelled, touched, and even tasted it, recognized it instantly. Paynil poison. Developed just before the Argent family’s utter ruin, its lack of symptoms until a certain level of toxicity earned it the moniker, “the silent killer.” 

The primary symptoms: high fever, cardiopulmonary failure, muscle rigidity. In severe cases: delirium, confusion, hallucinations. A slow, agonizing decline of bodily functions, culminating in death. Perfect for disguising assassinations as rare or incurable diseases. It had been developed for that very purpose. Feigning a nod of greeting, Shariette subtly shifted a step or two closer to the Duchess. She detected the same scent on her. 

Nox didn’t have the scent, so it seems Nixia and the Duchess were targeted. Since the scent lingers, the medium was likely perfume, cosmetics, or something they frequently touch, rather than food. The culprit must be someone with regular access to them. As Shariette racked her brain, Marianne offered a gentle suggestion. “I’ve instructed them to prepare a meal fit for honored guests. Please join us.” The new challenge abruptly interrupted Shariette’s contemplation. Was the knife held in the right hand, or the left?