May Every Wound Be Fatal - vanish into fiction

The look in Elizer’s eyes as he regarded him clearly conveyed the message to stop bothering him and get lost. Alberic, finding it amusing, let out a loud laugh.

“There’s no need for such wariness, Your Majesty. I have no intention of troubling you. You may not remember, but my daughters were married over twenty years ago, and even my granddaughters are already taken.”

“…….”

“Oh, I do have a great-granddaughter who has just started taking her first steps, but I suppose you wouldn’t be willing to wait for her.”

The old duke, who had rattled on with unsolicited talk—whether it was a joke or serious, it was hard to tell—flashed a wrinkled smile.

A cold silence followed. Lyman stubbornly stared straight ahead as if he had heard nothing, unconsciously swallowing dry saliva.

Eventually, a low voice rang out.

“Are you done?”

Alberic tactfully bowed his head and stepped aside. Just as Elizer was about to turn and resume his steps—

“Your Majesty.”

Of course. There was no way Alberic had called him back for no reason. Elizer silently gazed at him. The same smile as before spread across his lips, but his playful eyes had suddenly turned sharp and serious.

After a moment of hesitation, Alberic finally whispered in a low voice,

“If you intend to continue shielding Her Majesty the Queen, Your Majesty will only find yourself in greater danger.”

Elizer seemed well aware of that fact, his expression unchanged. Nevertheless, Alberic continued.

“You won’t be able to hold out much longer at this rate. At this rate, even Prince Lucian will be put at risk. How about… giving up on the Queen?”

“…….”

Normally, he would have passed without a reply. But surprisingly, Alberic’s gaze held an unusual tension and concern.

So Elizer found himself speaking.

“If I could have given up on Reyna…”

“…….”

“I would have killed her with my own hands that day.”

After a brief silence, Alberic gave a complicated smile and said,

“I have wasted Your Majesty’s time with useless talk.”

Then, as if about to withdraw, he seemed to choose his words for a moment before whispering secretly into the King’s ear.

“Please take care of yourself, Your Majesty.”

Elizer gave a small nod at his warning.

And the incident Alberic had warned about came sooner than expected.

***

The royal taster took a sip of the red wine before Elizer.

After carefully examining the flavor, he soon gave a small nod. At that signal, the servant holding the wine bottle beside him filled the golden goblet with the crimson liquid and cautiously presented it before the King.

Elizer had little interest in formal courtly procedures. It was only after some time that he glanced at the golden goblet, occupied as he was with the pile of documents.

Before bringing the goblet to his lips, he hesitated for a moment. Alberic’s advice had come to mind.

After a brief pause, Elizer tilted the goblet and took a sip of the red liquid.

The aroma of wine passed through his throat. He noticed nothing unusual. The same was true when he took a second sip.

Setting aside his suspicion, Elizer lightly set down the golden goblet.

The King’s office was silent. Lyman, standing guard behind him, silently stared straight ahead, and the servants pressed against the walls kept their eyes fixed on the floor.

His gaze fixed on the documents, Elizer absently picked up the goblet again.

Unlike before, he felt a subtle metallic taste, like dust, on the tip of his tongue.

Realizing something was wrong, Elizer furrowed his brow slightly and pulled the goblet away from his lips. Immediately after, his vision wavered just a little.

It was the moment Lyman shifted his gaze toward him in puzzlement.

Elizer’s fingertips stiffened, and the golden goblet fell limply onto the red carpet.

“Your Majesty!”

Thud. A dull sound filled the room, and while Lyman urgently called out to him, Elizer had already forgotten that he had even tried to rise from his chair.

***

“Please take care of yourself, Your Majesty.”

Alberic’s warning echoed in his head as his senses rapidly faded. His heart began to beat a beat too late, and with every attempt to inhale, his lungs slowly constricted.

Now, all he could see was the boundary between the chair and the floor. That too gradually blurred, until finally, there was nothing but darkness.