How the Villainous Consort Avoids His Death Ending - Chapter 8.2
Faint moonlight illuminated the graveyard. Despite the cloak wrapped around me, I shivered from the cold, damp air.
As I trudged through the Grand Duke’s family cemetery, I couldn’t stop grumbling. My heart pounded so fast that I felt like something would leap out at any moment if I didn’t at least mutter to myself.
It might not have been a baseless fear. In this world, ghosts, spirits, or even vampires might actually exist. The original story never mentioned them, but they could have been part of the hidden lore.
Even as I thought that, my eyes continued scanning the ground.
“Corpse flower… It must grow near graves, right?”
I guessed the name came from how it bloomed by feeding on corpses or sprouted beside them. Since I couldn’t exactly tell Tristan to look for a so-called corpse flower—especially when he didn’t even trust me—finding the ingredient was naturally my job.
The problem was that I was practically under house arrest, so I had to sneak out in secret. Given the place I was going, I would have needed to sneak out anyway, even if I had more freedom.
That was why, every night, I ended up sneaking out from the second-floor window of the Grand Consort’s chambers for what could only be called a bizarre midnight stroll. In other words, I had started wandering around the graveyard at night.
And not just any graveyard—this was the Grand Duke of Hezekia’s family cemetery.
There was no way a poor territory like this would have a separate burial ground for commoners or minor nobles, so there was nowhere else to go. I knew exactly what kind of trouble I’d be in if I got caught snooping around here, but even so, I had been sneaking in and out of the Grand Duke’s cemetery for ten days now. And still, not a single clue.
‘What should I do? Maybe the original story really can’t be changed.’
I sighed as Constantine’s increasingly pale, frail face came to mind. A dry twig snapped loudly under my foot.
“Please stop, Your Grace the Grand Consort.”
That was when I felt the cold edge of a sword against my back. My heart dropped to my stomach.
❖ ❖ ❖
A witch has appeared in the Grand Duke’s cemetery.
That was the rumor spreading rapidly throughout the territory these past few days. People claimed a witch, cloaked in black, had been seen digging up graves.
And it wasn’t just any graveyard—it was the Grand Duke’s own family cemetery. Tristan didn’t believe in witches, but he couldn’t ignore the unrest among his people. It was most likely a grave robber after hidden treasures. Outsiders might not know that no gold or jewels were buried with the Grand Duke’s ancestors.
Thinking it was nothing serious, Tristan ordered his knights to keep watch. They were surprisingly efficient; the petty thief was caught within a single night.
“……”
“……”
When the supposed thief—cloaked entirely in black and mistaken for a witch—was dragged into the underground prison, Tristan fell silent. It felt like he had been at a loss for words a lot lately.
The faint light of the lantern hanging on the stone wall flickered, and beneath it stood the old butler, Wilhelm, his eyes blazing as he interrogated Ruellin.
“For what reason did you desecrate the late Grand Duke’s grave? Speak the truth at once.”
Beside him, the knights Fornyak and Damon clenched their jaws, glaring daggers at Ruellin. He muttered weakly, looking dispirited.
“I didn’t dig it up…”
“Did you not tear through the bushes and uproot the plants?”
Tristan pressed a hand to his forehead. Maybe it was just him, but he’d had a headache since seeing Ruellin sitting on the dungeon floor with that blank, lost expression. He had only just been released a few days ago, and now he had gotten into trouble again.
Ruellin spoke in a weary voice, his shoulders slumped.
“I was looking for herbs to make an antidote for Prince Constantine…”
“Do you call that an excuse!”
Wilhelm’s cold, thunderous voice echoed through the dungeon. Tristan narrowed his eyes slightly.
An antidote, huh…
“Your Grace the Grand Consort! Are you still insisting on that nonsense about poisoning? Rumors are spreading all over the territory that you’ve borrowed a witch’s power. Speak the truth at once!”
Wilhelm, who had been barely keeping his composure, finally lost it. Ruellin flinched, lips trembling as if to defend himself, but he seemed far too exhausted to say anything.
“The Grand Consort is no witch. That’s enough, Wilhelm. Stand down.”
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