Riersha’s heart plummeted.
She couldn’t believe what she had just seen.
She had always thought of Arcmund as someone untouchable — a towering, magnificent presence far above the reach of ordinary concerns.
And yet, Arcmund looked like he was in pain.
“Hhnn…”
Riersha’s lips trembled as she made a woeful face, and fat tears rolled down her cheeks one after another.
She stood rooted to her spot, calling out to Arcmund through her sobs, and he extended his hand toward her.
“Hhnn… Grandpaaaa…”
“I’m fine. Come here.”
“…Yes…”
Even through her tears, she didn’t forget to pull the study door firmly shut behind her before she came running to him.
Arcmund let out a hollow laugh at the sight.
He felt a bittersweet mix of fondness and something bitter on his tongue — even in this state, she was thinking about who might see.
He settled Riersha onto his knee to face him and spoke with gentle firmness.
“Stop crying.”
“…Yes.”
“I said, stop.”
“…S-stopping…”
She dutifully repeated his words with her mouth, yet she kept right on sniffling. Arcmund pressed his lips together, at a loss.
It was plain to see how deeply the shock had hit her.
“Your grandfather is fine.”
“…Really?”
“Yes.”
“…You’re not in pain?”
Riersha’s red eyes drifted anxiously toward the bottle of painkillers.
She looked back and forth between Arcmund and the medicine bottle, and distrust slowly crept into her gaze.
Arcmund knew instinctively that she wouldn’t believe a word he said.
Still, he decided to try soothing her first.
“…Your grandfather is not in pain.”
“…”
“When you grow older, the body starts to have its troubles. That’s only natural. So there’s no need to cry, Riersha.”
But Riersha could not bring herself to agree.
When did something go wrong with Grandfather’s health?
Her mind was in turmoil.
It was something she had never known before — not in her past life.
Arcmund had been ill?
At the same time, a puzzle she had long carried began to piece itself together.
Why the Arachrene family had crumbled so helplessly, so utterly, as though swept away by nothing at all.
By the time things had reached their end, Arcmund’s condition must have been severe.
Even if it had only started now, he would have suffered for at least six years by then.
The head of the family, ailing and broken — there was no way he could have commanded his armies properly. His judgment would have been gravely clouded.
That was why the Arachrene ducal house had been crushed and overthrown by the imperial family.
“Does Father… does Father know that Grandfather is sick?”
Riersha asked carefully. Arcmund fell silent.
Ah. He doesn’t know.
In that instant, Riersha’s brows drew together sharply.
Arcmund patted her on the back and gently proposed, “Will you keep what you saw today a secret?”
“No!”
“…”
“I won’t!”
“…”
“Hmph.”
Riersha crossed her arms and turned her head away with firm resolve.
When it became clear that no amount of persuasion would work, Arcmund pressed his fingers to his temple.
“…Go fetch Pernoa for me.”
In the end, he had no choice but to raise the white flag before his granddaughter.
⁂
Pernoa arrived in haste at Arcmund’s summons. The moment he heard the situation, his expression turned to stone.
He was silent for a long moment, clearly thinking, and only after some time did he speak.
“When did the symptoms begin?”
“…Roughly a year ago.”
A year.
Pernoa’s brow furrowed at those words.
He had concealed an illness for an entire year?
“Have you been keeping the family physician around as a decoration?”
“Would I go announcing my ailments to others when you weren’t even here? …I was about to speak to the physician soon enough.”
Riersha gave him a pointed look, and Arcmund added the excuse half a beat too late.
A shadow of partial relief crossed Riersha’s face at his words. She seemed reassured by the mention that he had intended to tell the physician.
Pernoa, on the other hand, watched Arcmund offer that careful excuse while sneaking glances at Riersha, and his eyes narrowed.
“Then send for him at once.”
“…Right now?”
“If you’ve made your granddaughter anxious, shouldn’t you naturally see things through to the end?”
Pernoa tilted his chin toward Riersha with a meaningful glance — a gesture that said hiding things isn’t always the answer.
Riersha was sharp enough to tell whether someone was trying to smooth-talk her into being sent away or not.
Arcmund shifted uneasily and looked at Riersha.
The truth was, he had no intention of calling the physician just yet.
He had planned to soothe the child well enough and send her on her way.
“Grandfather…”
The eyes gazing up at him with such desperate longing made his resolve falter.
Pernoa seized the opening without hesitation.
“Someone outside — go and bring the family physician here.”
Oh, blast.
A look of defeat crossed Arcmund’s face.
Pernoa smiled pleasantly and gave a light shrug.
Shortly after, the family physician arrived in a breathless rush. He must have prepared himself in such haste that his glasses were sliding halfway down his nose.
“I — I was summoned, Young Lord?”
As the physician made his flustered entrance, Riersha looked up to confirm his face.
She recognized him well.
He was the one who had stayed by her side through the night when her magical power had run rampant — back in those earlier days.
Riersha’s eyes went wide. If it’s him, he’ll surely be able to make Grandfather better too.
She called out to the physician with a voice thick with emotion.
“Doctor Thenthennimm…”
“Yes, Miss Riersha. …Pardon? Just now, what did you…?”
…say?
The physician wondered for a moment whether he had heard wrong.
He had belonged to the Arachrene household for over ten years, yet he had never once been addressed as “Doctor” before.
Did I mishear?
As he tilted his head in puzzlement, Riersha called out to him again — as if to confirm that he had heard perfectly correctly.
“Doctor Thenthennimm, Grandfather is very sick…”
“…”
“Please make him better.”
Riersha clutched the hem of his coat with boundless trust.
The Arachrene family had always been made up of the innately powerful — this was a request he had never once received.
So the moment has finally come for my worth to be proven.
The physician smiled, moved to his core.
“Of course, Miss Riersha. That is precisely why I am here in the Arachrene household.”
⁂
…However, at the conclusion of his examination, the physician cautiously offered his finding: no abnormality detected.
Pernoa tilted his head at an angle.
His gaze landed squarely on Arcmund.
“How strange. Are you saying His Grace has been feigning illness, then?”
“You…!”
Have you lost your mind?
Arcmund barely swallowed the last of those words — he simply could not say something so crude in front of Riersha.
At Pernoa’s question, the physician broke into a cold sweat, his expression awash with dismay.
“…Yes, feigning illness…”
Arcmund’s crimson eyes snapped toward him in an instant, and the physician flinched so hard he nearly bit his own tongue.
He quickly composed his features and began to explain in earnest.
“…Based on the symptoms described, I do not believe it is that… sort of situation.”
“Then what is it?”
“There is a condition with similar symptoms…”
The physician took another careful look at Arcmund.
His complexion was sound. No weight loss. No visible fatigue.
And yet the man was supposedly losing his five senses — a symptom that should have indicated a grave condition.
Furthermore, if he had been ill for nearly a year, the progression was far too slow. Had he truly been managing it with nothing but painkillers, the illness should have advanced fully by now and rendered daily life impossible.
In short, Arcmund did not look like a man who was sick.
He looked, rather, as though—
The physician’s expression went rigid.
“By my limited knowledge, I do not believe His Grace is suffering from an illness.”
“Then what is it?”
Arcmund asked flatly, still rankled at having nearly been called a malingerer. The physician hesitated for a long moment before answering.
What he was about to say could send innocent lives flying — and so he chose each word with care.
After a long silence, he finally spoke.
“I believe His Grace has been poisoned.”
“…What did you just say?”
Pernoa stopped cold and repeated the question.
Poison?
“Can you stand behind those words?”
“I once researched a rare category of toxic plants. Among them was a colorless, odorless poison that gradually strips away the five senses.”
“…”
“The handling of such substances is strictly forbidden within the Declair Empire at present, however…”
The physician paused, then continued.
“According to historical records, it was most commonly used against those of advanced age who held great power. So that they would never suspect they had been poisoned at all.”
