Chapter 220: 95.3

“Animals have a keen sense of smell. Hunters bury new traps in the ground for months or soak them in river water to eliminate the smell so they won’t be noticed. It’s impossible to have a handkerchief absorb the metallic scent of a chemical solution on the surface of a set trap with a mere wipe.”

“Then I guess there’s only one conclusion.”

Arnold leaned his back against the chair and said leisurely.

“The trap was set for people.”

“…”

Honestly, she wanted him to deny that it was an outlandish idea.

But with Arnold’s assurances, Rishe had no choice but to be convinced.

“To put it simply, it is a poisonous trap suitable for assassination. If a target enters the forest and gets caught in the trap, it will be treated as a mere injury in itself, right?”

“Yes. Once he has finished dressing his wounds in the temple, he is bound to die without suffering.”

“If this were a timeless poison, the person would start suffering the moment it enters the body through the wound. Others will be aware of the poison soon enough, and they will suck the toxin out of the wound.”

“However, I do not recommend the procedure of sucking out such deadly poison. Even if you spit it out right away, you will end up ingesting it. Even the person who performed the procedure could die.”

At best, first aid would be providing a numbing or sleeping potion. Rishe’s teacher in her alchemist life advised, and Rishe was wholeheartedly in agreement.

“Is the antidote you know still simmering in that pot?”

“Those are mainly medicinal herbs, which are the ingredients of a sleeping potion. I collected them from my walk in the forest. The quantity is small this time, so what I have here is enough for five people…”

When she said that much, Arnold sighed, understanding what Rishe wanted.

“If you want to deliver it to the four seamstresses, I’ll order Oliver to send an errand boy.”

“…Thank you!!”

It was a relief for once, but she couldn’t be too optimistic. Arnold seemed to agree with her on that.

“You said that fever and fatigue only occur when the amount of poison is less than a lethal dose. The seamstresses symptoms seem to fall into that category.”

“I believe that the poison was absorbed through their skin, not swallowed or entered through a wound.”

It was obvious what all four of the fallen seamstresses would have touched.

“… I wonder if a similar mixture of poison had been applied to Myria-sama’s dress.”

“…”

Myria said this morning.

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She was so excited to dye the dress that she sent it off for adjustment without trying it on, just to have it delivered as soon as possible.

“A lethal dose for a child is much less than for a grown woman. Had Myria-sama tried the dress on yesterday, the poison would have spread through her skin, and she might have died this morning.”

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Myria, who had been ecstatic with the ribbons when Rishe styled her hair, could have died.

The thought of it sent a chill down her spine.

“It’s my fault for urging her to try on the dress…”

Rishe fought to keep the tremor out of her voice and muttered softly.

One wrong move and things could have gone horribly wrong.

Just as she was about to be swallowed up by this thought, Arnold said.

“――Stop imagining a future that hasn’t come or be afraid of it.”

“!”

Rishe’s shoulders jerked up at the clarity of his words.

“Your Highness…”

His words were plain, yet powerful.

Arnold looked straight at Rishe and continued.

“Make no mistake. What you’ve conjured up is only a sliver of a possibility – one that doesn’t really exist.”

“…”

“What you fear is definitely not going to happen.”

It was an incident that has already been avoided.

Now that he put it that way, Rishe slowly exhaled.

“The same goes for the seamstresses. The final adjustments to the tailoring would have been made anyway, regardless of your actions.”

“…”

“Rishe.”

He called her name as if to prompt her, so Rishe nodded.

“I got it. I’ll try to finish the antidote and deliver it to the seamstresses as soon as possible.”

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“That’s fine.”

It sounded as if he was trying to say that she had done a good job.

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