obsession chapter 26

He’d been introduced as Eden, but his real name was Franz. He was a researcher who had worked under Matthias Argen. Those who only knew Sasha by sight wouldn’t recognize her, but Shariette knew him instantly. The mystery of the Duchess and Nixia’s subtle poisoning suddenly became clear. The precise, long-term dosage, leaving no trace… a poison only Argen could create. He must be the culprit. But Argen, who would have ordered the assassination, was already dead. Why? If it was revenge, why prolong it? Shariette’s mind raced, swiftly and calmly calculating.

Meanwhile, Eden, pale and sweating, offered a perfunctory greeting to the woman before him. 

“Eden Evans. Pleased to meet you.” Of course, it was an empty formality. This young woman had cured the Young Duke’s insomnia, something even he had failed to do? Impossible. It must have been a trick, or sheer luck. Well, she’s pretty enough. I suppose she could warm a bed. That’s a kind of treatment, isn’t it? The woman, as white as her own hair, avoided his gaze, stiff and trembling. Is she afraid her charade will be exposed? But then, her eyes met his directly, and instead of a greeting, she retched.

“Ugh!”

***

After the chaotic episode of heaving, silent screams, and quiet curses had subsided, Shariette, having ransacked the apothecary in her insistence on personally preparing a digestive aid, reached a conclusion. As expected, there was no evidence in the apothecary. I’ll have to search his room, or force him to reveal it. She decided to start with what she could confirm. Fortunately, I can make the antidote with the ingredients here. I need to buy myself some time. Now that her stomach had settled, her mind was sharper.

“This sort of behavior is unacceptable.” Eden, who had been glaring at the unwelcome newcomer with undisguised contempt, spoke through gritted teeth. “Regardless of your background, refrain from tarnishing the Young Duke’s reputation.”

Shariette almost choked. It was ludicrous to hear Argen’s lackey speak of the Rubelot’s reputation. He couldn’t have reformed, could he? Was he simply committed to the performance?

“Yes, I’ll be careful.” She replied casually, then extended her hand. “I might need to use the apothecary when you’re not around, so please give me a spare key.”

Eden’s dark olive eyes raked over Shariette, then flicked to the spot where she had been sick. His expression clearly conveyed his reluctance to entrust this madwoman with a key. However, he couldn’t refuse a reasonable work-related request in front of the head butler. Two keys were placed in Shariette’s hand: one for the apothecary door and one for the medicine cabinet. Eden practically ground his teeth as he warned, “I’m telling you now, this place must remain absolutely, unequivocally pristine.”

Shariette nodded. She knew. She knew he wasn’t just talking about cleanliness, but about order. If Eden, Franz, was the genius recognized by the Argen family, then Shariette was a genius they couldn’t bear to kill, at least not in this space, in this field. No one understood the importance of order in an apothecary, a place governed by observation, measurement, laws, and calculations, better than she did. And no one knew better how to provoke Argen’s pawn into revealing his weaknesses. Of course, those who might have known were, in fact, all dead.

***

The incident of the newly arrived Young Duke’s physician vomiting in someone’s face was, even for a butler with twenty-one years of experience, rather shocking. However, the dutiful butler maintained his composure and continued to fulfill his responsibilities.

“Your room, Miss Shariette, has been situated near the Young Duke’s chambers to ensure your prompt response should he require your services.” It was time to reveal the final room, Shariette’s own.

“Yes.” So I’m to be a readily available servant, Shariette thought, unimpressed. Still, it was better than being summoned from the basement to the third floor at all hours by those Argen brutes. But when the butler, shoulders squared and posture dramatic, flung open the door, Shariette froze, her jaw dropping in astonishment.

Pleased with her reaction, the butler’s mustache twitched. I never imagined Master Noxian would allow this room, prepared two years ago, to be used in this way. But what did it matter? A room only gained value when occupied.