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***

It was much later when Isabella finally learned what had happened to her husband-the emperor had ordered everyone involved to stay silent, intent on secrecy. She frantically hailed a carriage and returned to the manor only moments after Inés without ever getting the chance to see Juan again at the palace.

She sprinted up the stairs as soon as she got out of the carriage and found the room that Juan was in. Crumbling to the floor by his bed, she felt his cold arm with trembling hands. "Juan. Good gracious, Juan... Wh-what has happened to him?"

Inés reached out to carefully stroke her back-it was drenched with sweat. With some concern, she recalled how Isabella had seemed so frail lately that even standing took a great toll on her.

"I-I do not think he is breathing, Inés. I cannot feel him... breathe," she whispered desperately.

"It is very faint, but he is still breathing."

"I should have begged him to see a physician, no matter how much he did not wish to. I knew there was something wrong with him. It's my fault, Inés. This is all my fault."

"Isabella," Inés said quietly, but Isabella didn't seem to hear her.

"H-how shall I live with myself if something...happens to him? There is so much I want to say, so many apologies..." she trailed off, burying her face in the bed.

Miguel's gaze was filled with sorrow as he looked upon Isabella while standing at the foot of the bed. After a moment, he ran an anxious hand over his face and turned away, still unable to say a single word to his own mother.

Inés glanced at him with pity, then continued, "Thankfully, this young physician was able to save His Grace at just the right moment. While he is not stable just yet, the worst has passed. We are now waiting for Don Garcia to arrive."

Finally realizing that Mario was present in the room, Isabella looked toward him with a shaky smile. "Y-you have my undying gratitude. You have saved my husband's life. Whatever you wish, Escalante shall grant it to you."

"N-no, Your Grace! I did nothing to deserve your gratitude," Mario said, caught off guard. "I-I simply stabilized His Grace because I had the h-honor of being there at the right moment. In fact, I believe Lady Inés is the one who truly saved His Grace's life. If she hadn't shot the assassin, His Grace might have passed before I was able to-"

"What?" Isabella's pale face filled with shock as she looked over at Inés. She had only been told that Juan had collapsed from a heart attack.

Mario seemed to be too honest and humble for his own good. The glare that Inés directed at him melted away in an instant when Isabella's trembling fingers wrapped around her wrist.

"An... assassin? I-I don't understand..."

Inés met her eyes gently. "An assassin wielding a knife snuck into the room that His Grace was resting in. Thankfully, I was able to discover the man before he could do anything." 

"D-did... Juan collapse from the shock of seeing the..." Isabella's voice was trembling like a leaf in a storm.

"I believe he doesn't know anything about the attempt, as he was already unconscious at that point."

"Good gracious..." Tears began to fall from Isabella's eyes, quickly drenching her face. "How could God be so cruel? Juan has already endured so much...oh poor Juan..."

"Perhaps His Grace is only alive because God was looking upon him with kindness. According to our talented physician, it's an incredible miracle that he was still alive when he was discovered. Isn't that correct?" She pointedly glanced at Mario.

He nodded. "Y-yes, my lady. Quite some time had elapsed since the heart attack when His Grace was discovered. Most people perish within minutes."

His words did nothing to dispel the sorrow from Isabella's face, which made sense, since he had essentially told her that her husband could have died within minutes if it hadn't been for a divine miracle. Weakly, she buried her head in the sheets near Juan's arm. She seemed to be in a state of great shock after learning that Juan had almost been assassinated on top of everything else.

Inés reached out and held her hand where it was lying limply atop the bed. Squeezing Inés's hand tightly, Isabella muttered words of gratitude over and over as if dazed. "I don't even want to imagine what would have happened if you had not been there, Inés... I can't even imagine..."

Suddenly, she raised her head with clarity in her eyes as if she had just remembered something important. "At the very least, my poor husband was granted a miracle," she said, looking at Mario. "I will be sure to reward you handsomely for your help today. Could you stay here for just a few days even after my husband's physician arrives? It has been quite some time since Garcia saw my husband last, and you were there to watch his symptoms unfold..."

"O-of course, Your Grace. It would be an honor. Furthermore, I wanted to mention..."

Isabella nodded. "Yes. What compensation would you like?"

"No, it's nothing like that. There is... There is something I couldn't say earlier, since I-I was in His Majesty's presence and the assassin happened to be his, well..."

Confused, Isabella looked up at Inés as if asking for her assistance in deciphering his words. It appeared that Mario was quite talented in both the art of stuttering and dancing around a subject. Sighing silently, Inés gave him a curt nod.

Even with her permission, it took Mario a painfully long moment to finally speak. "I suspect this was not caused by a chronic illness. It may have been...continuous poisoning. I know of several cases of long-term guirgoño poisoning in Calia, and the more I think about it... they closely resemble His Grace's symptoms. I-I understand that I may not seem very trustworthy, as I am quite young. You could have other physicians examine him, as long as they have an expertise in substances and detoxification."

After a brief pause, Inés prompted, "Explain the similarities between the symptoms."

"Well... the onset of the symptoms resembles a disease of the heart. I'm assuming that His Grace has experienced several mild heart attacks or precursory symptoms in the past. However, if a full-blown heart attack is left unattended, one will stop breathing completely. When I mentioned that His Grace could have died within minutes, I was talking about the few minutes that follow the patient losing their consciousness and air intake."

She stayed silent, listening intently.

"To an untrained eye, it must have looked like His Grace had reached that final stage. After all, it is a common way for people to pass away, not to mention that His Grace appeared to have stopped breathing. But... that was not the case. Somebody used a poison-one that resembles the symptoms of an illness."

"So they were trying to disguise it as a natural death," Inés commented.

"Yes, my lady. Most families end up giving up on the patient even if they discover them before they are dead, thinking they are too far gone. They think there is no point in calling for a physician... Fortunately, this substance cannot kill somebody as quickly as an illness would, which may have worked in His Grace's favor. But if he had ended up passing away, it would have been a long and painful death, since his heart wouldn't stop beating for quite some time despite being so weak."

"A long, painful death..."

"Yes, my lady."

"Long and painful..." Isabella muttered the words to herself over and over, as if trying to commit them to memory. It felt like her voice was stabbing Inés in the gut.

In the end, it wasn't even Juan's illness that had nearly killed him-it had been Oscar. The vile worm had caused his uncle to have a heart attack because he couldn't be patient enough to wait for the poison -one he had fed Juan himself-to kill him. Then he had ordered for Juan to be stabbed in the heart like a child who hated waiting for his reward. Would he claim he had shown mercy by sparing Juan a prolonged death?

A heavy silence settled in the room. Suddenly, a series of knocks sounded on the door. Miguel took a step forward, but Inés gave him a meaningful glance and headed toward the door instead. She was giving him and Isabella some privacy, hoping they would be able to communicate again. They likely needed it-with Cárcel gone and the duke lying unconscious, they had been stripped of the stability they once leaned on.

Inés closed the door behind her and listened, dazed, as the messenger of House Valeztena reported how the incident had been concluded back at the palace. The only thing she could think was, Cárcel is gone. She tried to remember how he had looked the last time she saw him, wishing she had given him the half-finished handkerchief that she had been working on in the middle of the night after pretending to fall asleep. Now, she wouldn't be able to go to Calztela, and all of her efforts were for naught.

Truthfully, she was most disappointed in herself for being unable to finish a simple good luck charm that was meant to keep him safe. Even if it was only a superstition, she could have let him know that she would be praying and waiting for him, so much that she had been willing to embroider an entire handkerchief.

But now, she could no longer give it to him until he returned.

Even after the messenger left, she stood there for a long time, rooted to the spot. She then heard the door swing open as Miguel stepped outside the room.

Upon spotting her, he said carefully, "Inés... are you crying?"

"No," she responded. It was the truth-there wasn't even a hint of tears on her face. However, Miguel's words made her realize the hot lump in her throat was a precursor of tears. She added, as if to reassure herself, "I am fine."

There was a brief pause. "You should go, Inés."

She blinked, confusion clouding her eyes.

"To Calztela, I mean," Miguel said. "Mother just told me that you didn't see him off properly because you were planning on saying your final farewell in Calztela."

"It's fine. Your brother has already made an effort to convince me not to come."

She briefly felt a twinge of conscience. Regardless of whether or not she went to Calztela, the articles that would soon be published on newspapers and tabloids were much too flowery and dramatic for her to say she hadn't "seen him off properly." In fact, the tear-jerking story of how she had seen her husband off would be published all over the empire in just a few days, starting with La Giéla.

Miguel snorted a wry chuckle. "Yes... I'm sure he did."

She said once again, "I will be fine. We have no idea when His Grace will awaken, and Isabella-"

"I will be here," he said, cutting her off gently.

"You are a good, supportive son, of course..." she trailed off, leaving out the part where he had ceased to be either one of those things after Viviana's death destroyed him.

He smiled at her sadly, as if he knew exactly what she had omitted. "I can pretend to be sane for a few days, Inés. You should go."

Strangely enough, those words acted as the final crack in the dam that was holding back a flood of tears, even though her sadness had initially revolved around Cárcel. Now, she wept out of joy-it was as if her little brother had finally awoken and called out to her after suffering from a terrible illness.

This was the Miguel that she knew.

"Perhaps you should save those tears for the journey, Inés. You do not have much time," Miguel commented.

"Yes, indeed..." Your brother will be ecstatic when he hears that you are talking with Isabella again... that you told me you can support your family for a few days, and broke free from your grief to comfort me... There were so many things that she wished to say, but they were swallowed by her tears. In the end, she simply stared at Miguel, looking deeply moved.

Blushing, he gently held her shoulders and turned her around, whispering that it was time for her to depart. Then he said suddenly, "Your dress is stunning, but it might be best if you changed into something else. It looks very... heavy."

She chuckled inwardly. He was truly Cárcel's brother.