News of Queen Mirabelle's downfall spread through the entire royal palace in no time. Although the details were kept under strict wraps, everyone knew she had been placed under house arrest for committing a serious offense. Her maids had all been taken away for investigation as well.
By the time Crown Prince Edward learned of it, the search was already over, and the queen had been confined to the high tower—by direct order of his father, the king.
He quickly realized that the queen's arrest must be related to the king's illness.
Although Edward had never liked Queen Mirabelle, such a significant matter still compelled him to go ask his father for the truth.
The king did not conceal the fact that he had been poisoned—nor that the one responsible was the queen. However, he deliberately omitted the part where Edward himself had also once been poisoned by her.
Out of personal concern, the king didn't want his son burdened by resentment or distracted from his treatment because of what the queen had done.
So after revealing the queen's crime, he told Edward to leave the matter alone, assuring him he would handle it personally.
Edward was furious when he learned the queen had tried to poison the king. But since his father had ordered him not to interfere, he could only suppress his anger and back off.
He also understood that, in his current condition, he wasn't fit for stress or strenuous matters anyway.
Afterward, the steward came to report the situation, and the crown prince was sent off to receive his daily treatment from Wei Wei.
Once Edward left, the steward gave a full account of the situation.
Mirabelle, though confined, still retained her title as queen. Furthermore, she was also a princess of the neighboring kingdom of Bordo. Neither identity allowed them to torture her, and Mirabelle herself was very aware of this. She remained wholly uncooperative.
If not for the steward threatening to force-feed her a blend of the two tainted balms, the cowardly queen wouldn't have admitted to anything at all.
She continued to deny having a lover and refused to say where the expensive gifts had come from.
To be honest, her stubborn refusal to cooperate was incredibly infuriating.
The maids by her side offered little help. Aside from mentioning her habit of taking evening walks alone, they had no further information.
But this was understandable. These maids hadn't served her for long, and though they were considered personal attendants, Mirabelle hadn't trusted them at all. They were all terrified of her and wouldn't dare to pry.
The steward wasn't surprised by this. The queen's mistreatment of her maids was hardly a secret. Even the king had long turned a blind eye to it. As a result, few could endure serving her for long. Of course, as a fallen favorite, Mirabelle hadn't dared to kill anyone—yet. Most of her former maids had left voluntarily after enduring too much abuse.
The steward had already sent people to track down those former maids for questioning, but what he hoped for was the king's permission to apply harsher methods.
A self-centered, spoiled woman like Mirabelle would cave the moment she realized withholding information might cost her dearly. She'd expose everyone involved without hesitation.
The king, who now loathed the queen, had no qualms about torturing her. But due to her royal lineage, he had something else in mind.
He beckoned the steward to lean in so he could whisper his plan.
Meanwhile, Queen Mirabelle was locked away in the palace's high tower—a place reserved for royal family members who had committed offenses. Compared to the dungeons, it was decent. But to her, the dusty, musty stone chamber—furnished with only a single bed and a threadbare blanket of questionable cleanliness—was unbearable.
On top of that, the food delivered to her was disgusting and unappetizing. She refused to touch it. After raging uselessly in her cell, she finally slumped down in defeat, plagued by anxiety and restlessness.
Still, she wasn't in despair—yet. Though not the brightest, Mirabelle understood she wouldn't be killed right away. The king wanted the antidote—or so he thought. In truth, such an antidote didn't exist. But as long as she didn't admit that, he wouldn't know.
Just the thought of Wei Wei reignited her fury. She didn't believe Wei Wei could cure the king, but it was clear that her exposure had something to do with that woman.
She had disliked Wei Wei before—but now she utterly despised her.
Unfortunately, no matter how much she hated her, there was nothing she could do. At the moment, Mirabelle could only use the illusion of a cure to stall for time.
She was waiting. Waiting to be rescued.
Because, as everyone suspected, she did have a lover. It was under his persuasion that she had poisoned the king. And she believed he would find a way to save her.
With that hope in her heart, she waited two days—and nearly died instead.
It happened on the second evening after she was locked up. At first, Mirabelle had refused to eat the foul food delivered by the guards, food she deemed fit only for commoners. But hunger quickly broke her resolve. She forced herself to eat, gagging the whole time and silently cursing everyone.
The following evening, when hunger again forced her to chew on a rock-hard loaf of black bread, she suddenly doubled over in pain. Her stomach twisted in agony, and she collapsed on the floor, clutching her abdomen, writhing and screaming.
The guards outside heard the noise and rushed in to check. Seeing something was wrong, they immediately summoned help.
The steward soon arrived with the royal physician. One look at the queen, and the physician turned to the servant beside him and said, "This is bad—she's been poisoned! Quick, bring the antidote!"
The servant nodded and ran off.
Mirabelle wracked with searing pain, thought she was going to die. She had never experienced anything like it. The physician's words only cemented the dread in her mind.
Tormented by pain and fear, she could do nothing but howl in misery.
Off to the side, the steward murmured in confusion, "Poisoned? Who would try to kill her now?"
"Maybe they're silencing her?" someone speculated aloud. "Poisoning the king is a capital crime. Now that everything's come to light, someone may want to sever all ties and eliminate her."
Silence her?
That thought jolted Mirabelle's pain-fogged mind into sudden clarity. Gripped by the fear of death, she seized the physician's hand with a terrifying expression, her face contorted like a demon from the depths of hell.
Through gasps of pain and venomous hatred, she hissed, "Amos… it was Amos. He did it!"
The steward's eyes widened in shock. "Amos? Amos Romanov?"
"Yes… him…" she muttered, before finally blacking out from the pain.
The steward and the physician exchanged a glance—then shared a quiet smile.
They had finally gotten a confession.
After Queen Mirabelle was placed under house arrest, no visitors were allowed. All food she received was strictly inspected before being sent in. It might have looked unappetizing, but it was very safe—so poisoning her had been impossible.
The so-called "poisoning" incident was a carefully staged performance, carried out under the king's direct orders.
The king knew Mirabelle all too well—selfish, pampered, and completely self-centered. The moment her life was in danger, she'd sell out anyone to save herself. All they had to do was convince her someone was trying to kill her to silence her, and she'd immediately confess who was really behind the plot to poison the king.
What no one expected, however, was who she named: Amos Romanov.
Not the Duke of Romanov himself, but his younger brother.
The former Duke of Romanov—just like the current one—had been quite prolific, fathering five sons, of whom only three survived to adulthood (and now, just two remained). Amos was the youngest, even younger than Queen Mirabelle by a year.
When his second eldest brother inherited the dukedom, Amos was granted the title of count.
The king didn't believe for a second that Amos could have orchestrated this alone.
Amos had no real motive to target the king. Though he technically had a claim to the throne, the Duke of Romanov had multiple sons. With the two princes and the duke himself ahead of him in the line of succession, Amos didn't stand a chance unless everyone before him died.
Besides, Amos was known to blindly follow his older brother's lead. The two were close, and Amos rarely acted without his brother's blessing. If Amos was involved, then the Duke of Romanov had to be as well.
Knowing this made the king's blood boil—and his suspicion that he'd been wearing a cuckold's crown for quite some time only added fuel to the fire.
He immediately ordered a secret investigation into Amos.
The queen's arrest was public knowledge in the palace, but very few knew the reason behind it. Talking about the matter was forbidden, and the palace was on lockdown. No news escaped to the outside world.
As for Mirabelle, after being "rescued" from her fake poisoning, she flipped completely. She told the steward that if the king promised to let her return to Bordo, she'd reveal everything she knew.
The steward found her laughably naive. Did she think the king would just let her go after she tried to murder him? Poisoning the monarch was treason of the highest order—no way they were letting her walk. Even if they told the King of Bordo, for the sake of peace between the two nations, he wouldn't protect her either—even if she was his favorite daughter.
The king didn't say yes or no, but he saw no issue in stringing the foolish woman along.
He even signed a fake release order for her, which was enough to loosen her tongue.
Mirabelle confessed that her lover was indeed Amos. Their affair had started back when she first married into the Romanov family. After marrying the king, she had cut ties with Amos, but last year, they reconnected.
That was the truth—Amos had been away managing the family's fief and had only returned recently. If he hadn't, the Duke of Romanov couldn't have spent so much time lingering in the capital.
Last year, frustrated with the king's neglect and her dwindling funds, Mirabelle decided to find a wealthy admirer to maintain her lavish lifestyle. Right then, Amos conveniently reappeared.
He was a former flame, young, handsome, rich—it didn't take long for them to rekindle their affair.
During one of their trysts, Mirabelle vented her frustrations about the king. Amos took the opportunity to suggest getting rid of the king altogether.
He promised her that once the king was out of the picture, he would marry her and make her a duchess.
While being a duchess didn't sound as prestigious as a queen, Mirabelle had never enjoyed being queen. Her relationship with the king was cold, and Amos—young, passionate, and attentive—was far more appealing than her aging husband, who had begun to grow fat and indifferent.
After repeated persuasion, she finally agreed to their plan.
Originally, Amos wanted to use a lethal poison to kill the king outright. But Mirabelle thought that was too risky—if the king died suddenly, she'd be the prime suspect. Fortunately, she had brought a rare "remedy" from Bordo that could weaken someone gradually. She chose to use that instead.
She never told Amos about the special drug. She just claimed to have a way to make the king fall ill without anyone suspecting foul play.
Amos, convinced, agreed to go with her method. Killing the king directly would leave too much evidence—and they weren't the only ones with ambitions for the throne. They had to play it safe.
That's why the Romanov faction had been so eerily quiet lately—they were just waiting for the king to die naturally.
Mirabelle even handed over a love letter from Amos and a signed note promising to marry her once the plan succeeded.
Her entire brainpower had gone into scheming for personal gain. A verbal promise wasn't enough for her; she wouldn't have helped poison the king without that written agreement.
The letter had been hidden so carefully that the previous searches hadn't uncovered it. If Mirabelle hadn't revealed its existence herself, no one might have ever found such a key piece of evidence.
The letter clearly described their plot and was signed by Amos himself. With it, and Mirabelle's confession, they now had everything they needed to arrest Amos.
But they didn't want to alert the rest of the Romanov faction. Instead, they asked Mirabelle to lure Amos into a trap.
It was easy enough—Amos had been secretly entering the palace to meet her anyway, using a hidden informant embedded among the palace staff to communicate. All she had to do was give a note to the right person, and the message would be delivered.
This revelation made the king even more wary of the Romanov family. He had previously purged the palace staff when he suspected foul play—yet here was a spy who had slipped through. Possibly more than one. After all, how else could Amos have gotten in and out of the palace so easily?
Another round of purging was in order.
Mirabelle wrote a letter saying she had new information about the king's health and invited Amos to meet her that evening. Since this was exactly what the Romanov faction desperately wanted to know, there was no way Amos wouldn't take the bait.
Sure enough, he did.
That night, under cover, Amos sneaked into the palace as planned—but instead of finding his lover, he was greeted by a squad of royal guards.
At the front stood the king's other trusted confidant, the chief knight of the Royal Knight Order, who gave him a cold, mocking smile.
Amos tried to flee, but he was just a noble with no real training. Surrounded by soldiers, he had nowhere to run and was quickly subdued and thrown into the dungeons for interrogation.
And when it came to Amos, the interrogators—acting on the king's orders—showed no mercy.
They started with a good round of whipping.
Though Amos had some martial training, he had never experienced real torture. After the first round of lashes, bloodied and shaking, and staring at a glowing red branding iron, he cracked completely and confessed everything.
What followed was a storm that rocked the entire Pradi Empire.
With both testimony and hard evidence, the king dispatched the Royal Knight Order to surround the Duke of Romanov's estate and arrest him.
But they were too late.
Amos had not returned that night. The duke, waiting for him at home, grew uneasy. When scouts reported that someone had left the palace and gone to the Royal Knight Order, followed by unusual activity at the barracks, the duke knew the jig was up.
By the time the knights arrived, the duke had already packed up his household and quietly fled the capital with his family and loyal guards.
All the knights found was an empty house.
They immediately reported back and gave chase, but it was too late. The duke had made it back to his fiefdom.
What happened next sent shockwaves throughout the empire.
The king publicly denounced the Duke of Romanov, stripped him of his noble status, and exposed his crimes. The entire nation reeled from the scandal.
But back in his territory, the duke wasn't afraid. He boldly declared independence from the Pradi Empire and proclaimed himself king.
It's worth noting that the Romanov lands bordered a region that had recently been conquered and carved up by other powers. The duke had secretly aligned himself with one of those invading nations beforehand. So when he declared himself king, he quickly seized part of the territory the Pradi king had intended to annex.
Not only that—he had long prepared for rebellion. Once he declared himself ruler, he launched a series of swift assaults on neighboring noble territories that hadn't yet pledged allegiance to him.
Soon, the entire northwest of the Pradi Empire was engulfed in war.
The king was so enraged that his condition nearly worsened again.
Meanwhile, the news of Wei Wei's presence in the palace was no longer a secret. Felix had entered the palace immediately to be with his wife and child and had wanted to take them away for safety. But the king refused to let Wei Wei leave and simply kept Felix in the palace as well.
They were moved to a much better suite—guest rooms reserved for honored visitors. The king allowed Felix to come and go but advised that it was best for Wei Wei to remain inside the palace.
The reasoning was sound. Although the duke had fled, many of his agents were still in hiding within the capital. If Wei Wei were to venture out now, she'd be an obvious target. Everyone knew she had saved the king—someone the duke surely hated with a passion.
Felix, concerned for his wife's safety, requested that his knights be allowed into the palace as well to guard her. He even cut down on outings to stay by her side.
Wei Wei joked that she might be safer than the king himself right now.
Even Elina, who came to visit upon hearing Wei Wei was in the palace, was amazed.
She quipped, "It's not easy to see you now. Those knights outside look terrifying—but man, are those uniforms sharp! I almost want to suggest His Majesty give the Royal Knights a makeover."
Summer had arrived, and the knights were wearing the new seasonal uniforms. Though similar in design to the previous ones, the fabric and trim had been updated, and a crisp white version had been added for ceremonial occasions. The guards outside were all clad in white, looking dashing as ever. Now and then, palace maids would wander past just to sneak a peek at them.
Felix had brought only his most trusted knights—men who were mostly already married. The curious maids may have entertained fantasies, but they'd find no love here.
Some knights were admittedly tempted, but everyone knew Lord Felix and Lady Wei Wei didn't tolerate fickle behavior. Even if anyone had ideas, they wouldn't dare act on them—so they all remained strictly professional. This, of course, only made them more irresistible in the eyes of the maids.