Chapter 39: The Advent of Empress Magistratus Mia and Her Arbitrary Arbitrations...Does Not Come to Pass

“We have arrived, Your Highness. Do mind your step.”

Mia’s carriage entered the Yellowmoon capital, Foret-Jaune, rather uneventfully. Though stopped by guards for routine inspection, they encountered no other impediments on their way to the town center where Duke Yellowmoon’s manor was located.

“I’d expected some resistance. At least an obstacle or two...” said Sion.

“Yeah, it’s a little creepy how smooth this trip was. Smells even more like a trap,” agreed Abel.

Mia, after hearing the princes’ comments, started feeling a little nervous herself.

They have a point... I guess there is a sense of danger in the air. But where’s Mr. I-Show-Up-Where-the-Danger-Is?

She glanced around curiously.

“If it’s Sir Dion you’re looking for,” said Ludwig with almost telepathic precision, “he’s currently on a different mission.”

“Is he now? I see. Hm...”

Frankly, the thought of kicking in Duke Yellowmoon’s front door without Dion was making her anxious.

“Ha ha ha, I’m sure you’d rather have Captain Dion with you, Your Highness, but don’t you worry. We won’t let anyone lay a finger on you. Give us a little credit, yeah?”

Vanos, now captain of the Princess Guard, gave her a reassuring grin.

“...You’re right, of course. I’m counting on you to protect me then.”

She nodded at him, but soon added, “But not by throwing away your own lives, all right? Even if it’s for me. Your lives are valuable, and I want you to treat them as such.”

The comment was spurred by the memory of another duke’s red-headed daughter.

If this man dies for my sake, Ruby’s going to be very upset at me... I’d rather not deal with that.

“We know, Your Highness. There’s not a man under your command who’ll ‘throw his life away,’” replied Vanos with a laugh.

Mia found herself only partially reassured.

Mmm... Vanos seems like exactly the type to jump into harm’s way. I can totally see him taking a sword for me. Oh moons, it’s times like these when I wish Dion were here. He’d charge into an army, then come back whistling.

She sighed and turned her gaze toward the manor. Just as she did, someone appeared at the front door.

“Wha—”

Eyes widening, she stared at the figure.

“Welcome, Your Highness. Milord and milady await you inside.”

Standing there with her head bowed too low to be sincerely respectful was the Yellowmoon maid, Barbara. The two princes immediately gripped their sword hilts.

“You’ve got some nerve, just strolling out here like that.”

Barbara brushed off the open hostility with a smile.

“Prince Sion, if you wish for milady Citrina to be returned unharmed, then I advise prudence in your actions from here on in.”

“Is that a demand for us to drop our weapons?”

Sion gave her a sharp look, but she remained unfazed.

“I wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing,” she said with a shake of her head. “That would be an infringement of royal privilege. Please, enter accompanied by your arms. The sword is the symbol of a ruler. To wear it is his right. It is, after all, the mark of royalty to wield the sword as he pleases and slay those who oppose them, is it not?”

Her remark and ensuing cackle were met by a cool, quiet response.

“A king wields his sword only against evil. Evil such as yourself.”

“My oh my, is that how it works? Spoken like a true upholder of justice and righteousness, Prince Sion. Well, in that case, I suppose I should play my part as your villainess.” She chuckled and continued in a theatrically malicious voice. “Think twice before drawing that sword of yours then, if you wish to retrieve milady in one piece.”

Her gaze slithered its way from Sion to Abel and Keithwood. Then she said, “Now, do come in, though as guests of Duke Yellowmoon, I will remind you to conduct yourselves in an appropriate manner.”

Her demeanor remained wholly respectful, save for her mocking grin. With a flourish, she bade them enter and led the way.

Having gained such disconcertingly easy entrance to the manor, Mia and her friends could but step cautiously into their enemy’s lair.

Inside, they discovered a modest decor at odds with the pomp and extravagance often associated with powerful nobles. A long hallway stretched before them, its walls adorned by what seemed like endless portraits of unfamiliar faces.

Is it just me, or are there a lot of boring old men in these portraits? There’s literally nothing striking about any of them.

Mia’s musing was interrupted by Barbara, who noticed her gazing at the portraits.

“Displayed on these walls are the heads of the House of Yellowmoon. Generation after generation, they and their cursed bloodline have done the Tearmoon Empire’s dirty work.”

“I see. Hm...”

Mia nodded with interest.

Then again, a lot of them do look pretty coldhearted, she thought as she regarded the portraits anew.

Mia, you see, was easily influenced.

The hallway opened into a large courtyard filled with vegetation. Across it was...

“Th-That’s...”

Three masked men stood over a kneeling one, their blades pointed at his neck. The man held at swordpoint was dressed richly. Beside him sat a young girl.

“Rina!”

Bel exclaimed at the sight of her friend. Slowly Citrina lifted her head and met Bel’s gaze. She smiled a sweet smile, but it didn’t last.

“...Bel.”

Her pleasant front crumbled, revealing a girl on the verge of tears. With deliberate steps, Barbara walked over to her and turned around to face the guests.

“Now then...let us begin, shall we? The time of judgment is upon us. The House of Yellowmoon must be tried for their sins.”

“Judgment? What do you mean?” asked Mia. “What are you going to do to them?”

Barbara looked at her with glee.

“What am I going to do? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

“The nerve of this woman. They weren’t lying when they said depravity breeds shamelessness,” said Abel.

Barbara shrugged.

“Judge me as you will, but later. Once this is over, Prince Abel, you may dispense upon me whatever justice you please. But right now, it is not me who is on trial.” She walked behind Citrina and placed her hands on her shoulders. “Those who must be tried are the members of the cursed house of Yellowmoon.”

“The cursed house of Yellowmoon...” Mia echoed, as she recalled the generations of Lord Yellowmoons that adorned the hallway.

“As I’m sure you’re aware, those of the Yellowmoon bloodline have throughout the ages operated in the shadows of Tearmoon’s history, assassinating countless important individuals and erasing entire families of nobles.”

“That’s no—”

Lorenz ventured a protest, but cold metal was pressed even harder against his neck, forcing him to stop. His unspoken sentiments, however, did not remain buried. Ludwig, as if reading his mind, picked up where he’d left off.

“That’s not an entirely fair depiction. They were simply eliminating threats to the empire. If a nation is to grow, it will surely encounter power struggles that must be resolved. In that sense, what the House of Yellowmoon has done, while not openly laudable, does not qualify them for harsh trial either,” he said as he smartly adjusted his glasses.

Huh. That reminds me. I guess Ludwig did mention something in his letter about the Yellowmoons doing shady things...

While Mia reflected on the contents of a letter she clearly hadn’t read very carefully, Barbara put on a thoughtful smile.

“I see. So you claim that the needs of a growing empire exonerate their actions. A reasonable argument, perhaps. But does it apply to this pair? In case you weren’t aware, both father and daughter are Serpents, and in doing the Chaos Serpents’ bidding, they’ve carried out a number of assassinations.” She placed a hand on her cheek in mock contemplation. “Let’s see... Just to list off a few... There was the head of an outland noble family whose domain contained a great deal of farmland. He was killed by a special poison, the family was scattered, and the House of Yellowmoon took control of the farmland. Then there was a noble who caught on to what we Serpents were doing. That whole family was wiped out. Oh, speaking of which...”

Barbara clapped her hands once as she glanced at Citrina.

“Milady, it didn’t go quite as before, but this isn’t the first time you’ve tried erasing one of your friends, is it?”

Citrina’s pale eyes snapped open.

“N-No, Barbara. Stop.”

She tried to stand, but a nearby man pushed her back down. Undeterred, she struggled free of his grasp.

“Don’t! Don’t...tell Bel...” she pleaded, voice thick with grief.

This only delighted Barbara, who grinned sadistically.

“You use that sweet little smile of yours to befriend them, then charm their families, and finally kill them all with poison... You poisoned a friend’s drink with your own hands, didn’t you?”

“Ah...”

Citrina’s legs gave way. She crumpled to the ground and pressed her hands to her ears, unwilling—unable—to hear more.

Barbara chuckled.

“Did you know, dear guests, that the Yellowmoons are masters of poison? Milord, for example, has such extensive knowledge of banes and venoms that it makes my own expertise seem like child’s play,” she said, turning back toward Mia’s group. “So, O royal upholders of all that is fair and righteous, as you look upon the face of sin...” She gestured toward the Yellowmoons with a flourish. “What will you do? Surely,” she orated with increasing eloquence as her gaze homed in on Mia, “as the Great Sage of the Empire, Your Highness will not leave evil untried? Go on then. By all means. Do bring the gavel of justice down upon these wicked souls.”

“Well, uh, I—”

“Or does Your Highness intend to pardon this pair of wrongdoers? Let both father and daughter walk free, unreproved in spite of all they’ve done?” Barbara’s grin grew wider. “I suppose that would be a fine decision as well. After all, what is royalty if not the power to have one’s way? To stand tall and crush the principled but inconvenient protests of the lower rabble? But you may wish to think twice before doing so, especially in the presence of your regal compatriot. Isn’t that so, Prince Sion?”

Her gaze shifted to him.

“Kings must uphold justice. Is that not the doctrine of Sunkland’s royal family? Those with power have a duty to wield it ethically and righteously. Can you overlook amnesty granted purely on the basis of fondness for the princess?”

Sion’s lips tightened at the remark.

“And what would the sainted Rafina think of such an act?” Barbara continued, ignoring his expression of displeasure. “Would she look fondly upon the guiltless acquittal of a girl who once killed her own friend? And was complicit in the murder of the friend’s parents and the ruin of their entire family?”

Venom coursed through every sentence and dripped from every word. That was Barbara’s poison. She would have Mia personally pass judgment on Citrina and Lorenz and condemn their crimes. Or, failing that, deliberately make the decision not to convict them of their guilt. In the former scenario, she would indeed be acting justly. But to have Citrina die by her hand would undoubtedly create a rift between her and Bel, who’d developed a close friendship with the young Yellowmoon. Her fellow members of the student council would likely harbor complicated feelings toward the affair as well. Such an outcome would leave a scar in her heart and fracture her bond with her friends.

What if she chose the latter then? And pardoned the Yellowmoons? Sion, noted advocate of justice, and Rafina, preacher of holy ways, would not take kindly to such a decision. Therefore, refraining from judgment would breed discord between them and Mia as well. The schism that would form might be small. A minor crack at best. But a crack it would create, and the Serpents would then seize upon that tiny opening. Even if Barbara was arrested here, other Chaos Serpents would come to poke and pry at it until they ripped the bond between Mia and her friends apart.

And they did. Rather, they had. It was this very approach that had brought about the mass poisoning during the Holy Eve Festival, which tormented Rafina to no end and transformed her into the entropic force that was the Empress Prelate. She’d then inadvertently spearheaded the Serpents’ crusade against order. Such was their method. If they couldn’t eliminate someone through assassination, they’d simply strike at the person’s heart instead, for a soul disfigured by scars might very well twist itself into a champion of chaos.

The Serpents’ venom was a pernicious one. It seeped unnoticed into the brain and poisoned the mind, every bit as lethal as a blight upon the body. Faced with the insidious technique of a seasoned snake, Mia...

Okay, is it just me or has this old crone been really rude to Rina this whole time?

...Was a tad cross. The way Barbara kept picking on Citrina rubbed her the wrong way.

Mia just didn’t have the heart to look away from a person in distress. No matter what Barbara said, she just couldn’t see Citrina as an assassin who’d committed unspeakable horrors, only a poor little girl hugging her knees. Which led her to think...

There’s no way Rina did those things willingly. I mean, just look at her. She was obviously forced, the poor thing.

In spite of everything, the fact remained that she and Citrina had gone through some of life’s most profound experiences together. Like witnessing the creation of new life through the birth of a foal. And picking mushrooms. The questionable parity of those two events aside, they’d connected.

I’m pretty sure that Rina herself isn’t a bad person. I bet Barbara twisted her arm to get her to do those things. In that case, I can probably save Rina without much repercussion. If Miss Rafina asks, chances are I’ll get away with it by saying that there was a girl being bullied in front of me, so I stepped in to save her, and that’s all that happened.

It was...a flimsy argument at best, but Mia couldn’t care less, because right now, she had absolutely no liability. Even if she were to make a few errors in judgment, Barbara was still the clear villain. There was also Duke Yellowmoon, who was a prime target for blame shifting if the need arose. Being a complete bystander in this discussion of generational crimes, she was practically impervious to fault.

She huffed out a confident breath, feeling a rising sense of excitement. With absolutely no skin in the game, she could say whatever she wished and judge people as she pleased. Behold! It was time for Empress Magistratus Mia and Her Arbitrary Arbitrations!

All right, woman, enough yapping. Time for me to give you a piece of my mind!

As the spirit of Empress Magistratus Mia infused itself into her person, its hammer of justice raised and ready to strike down whomever had the misfortune to incur her resentment...

“Wait, Your Highness. I humbly request just a moment of your time.”

...Lorenz Etoile Yellowmoon spoke for the first time.

And that was when the tide began to shift.

“Milord, must I remind you to keep your mouth shut?” said Barbara as she brandished a blade at Lorenz’s throat. “It is with great effort that we’ve managed to bring you unharmed before Her Highness for trial. It would be a shame if injury were to occur in the process.”

A shame for him and Barbara. The whole point of avoiding open conflict and inviting Mia’s group inside was to create this very situation. If a fight broke out, one of her subordinates might end up killing Lorenz in the brawl. That would defeat the point. A mortally wounded Lorenz being put out of his misery by Mia wouldn’t suffice either. He had to be whole, sound of mind and body, with decades of life left to enjoy, only to have it all cut short by Mia’s hand. That was the point.

Lorenz showed no sign of backing off.

“Good gracious, getting rather hot-blooded, aren’t we, milord? I suppose I have no choice but to cool you down a little. Let us draw some of that heat out of your veins.”

She raised her blade and swung it down at him.

“Father!”

Citrina screamed as the deadly weapon came down on his shoulder. But it failed to draw blood.

“What?!”

Barbara’s eyes widened, looking from her blade—now frozen in midair—to the aging face of a man who’d suddenly appeared beside her. His smartly trimmed mustache complemented his spotless black butler’s uniform.

“Now, now, Barbara. That is hardly how a maid should behave toward her master.”

“You... I thought you’d already fled for dear life, Bisset. What have you been up to?” she said with a scornful smile at the man holding back her arm.

Sion’s brows twitched at the name.

“Did she say...Bisset?” he murmured. “Why does that name sound so familiar?”

Meanwhile, the spirit of Empress Magistratus Mia, who’d been ready to deliver a masterpiece of percussive justice, timidly lowered her hammer and phased out of existence. Mia, you see, was a girl who could read a room. And the room had just changed.

“Interrupting milord when he is speaking...is insolence of the highest order. If anyone should keep their mouth, Barbara, it is you.”

He wrenched the blade out of Barbara’s hand, then lowered his head toward Lorenz.

“I apologize for my tardiness, milord. Exterminating the vermin took longer than expected,” he said, before fixing each of the Serpents with a look that warned them to keep their hands off his master.

Barbara heaved a sigh at this turn of events.

“Hmph... So be it. There is little to be gained from violence here. Go ahead, milord. I can’t imagine you having anything of value to say, but feel free to speak in your own defense.”

She took a step back and made a wordless the stage is yours gesture.

Lorenz sighed as well, though his expressed relief.

“Ah, mm, very well. In that case, if I may speak my mind, Your Highness...”

He looked to Mia who, expecting the conversation to proceed without her involvement, barely managed to stop herself from jumping at this sudden mention of her name. However, by now, she was used to getting caught off guard and quickly recomposed herself, readying her mind to respond to any possible development.

“Yes, Duke Yellowmoon? Please, speak freely.”

Lorenz held her gaze, as though studying her, and dropped a bombshell of a claim.

“Everything Barbara has said is categorically untrue. Neither I nor my daughter Citrina has ever taken the life of another.”

“...Huh?”

This revelatory profession left the entire courtyard in stunned silence. Barbara recovered first, shattering the stillness with a mocking cackle.

“And here I thought you’d offer at least a semblance of a credible defense. What is this nonsense, milord? Have you lost your mind? Do you honestly expect anyone to believe such an absurd claim?” Barbara scoffed.

Mia, frankly, shared her opinion.

Okay, come on now. That’s definitely a reach...

But just as she was about to voice this sentiment, she noticed something important—her loyal subject Ludwig was staying mum! Ludwig, who in the previous timeline had never passed up an opportunity to point out in exasperating fashion every one of her remarks that was even remotely incorrect...was completely silent. More than that, his expression didn’t show the slightest hint of doubt. His arms crossed complacently, he seemed entirely content to let the duke finish.

Now that...is interesting...

Mia gulped her words back down and kept her mouth closed. Mimicking Ludwig’s crossed-arms stance, she adopted a similar “wait and see” approach, keeping her eyes and ears alert for any sign of incoming waves of momentum she could ride. Lorenz glanced at her once more, then took a short breath and continued.

“As you all know, we Yellowmoons have since the inception of the Tearmoon Empire committed ourselves to the covert elimination of those who would impede our progress as an imperial nation. We have done so in accordance with our oath to the first emperor. But...these recent decades have proven remarkably stable. In addition, His Imperial Majesty is of gentle disposition. Not once have we received instructions to carry out an assassination.”

“Hm...”

Mia nodded along, finding that Lorenz’s statement was consistent with her own understanding.

I don’t know if I’d call his disposition “gentle,” but father definitely has no interest in anything that doesn’t have my name on it. All he cares about is getting me to like him. Also, as far as I know, it’s true that the empire hasn’t experienced any wars lately.

The amount of political infighting among nobles certainly made up for it, but nevertheless, no menace had ever required one of the Four Houses to personally get involved in its elimination.

“Hah, are you even listening to yourself?” asked Barbara derisively. “That’s even more incriminating. With all that free time on your hands, you’ve had ample leisure to do the Chaos Serpents’ bidding.” She smirked at him with smug triumph. “I know what you’ve done. In your efforts to undermine the empire and curse this land with unending turmoil, you’ve killed many wise men and people who opposed the Serpents. Had you carried out those assassinations as the empire’s invisible sword, your crimes might have deserved pardon. But you didn’t. You acted on behalf of the Serpents—”

“I,” Lorenz interjected, “am a coward, Barbara. Unlike Her Highness. I am not endowed with her courage. Assassination? Why, what a dreadful notion. The thought alone terrifies me. I could never bring myself to do such a thing. Which is why...I deceived you.”

“Such drivel. Is fantasy and falsehood the extent of your defense? What do you stand to gain by speaking such obvious lies?” Barbara said, shaking her head like a disappointed parent. “You are indeed a coward, milord. That I will not deny. And that is precisely why you would never dare betray the Serpents. Perhaps in a situation similar to this, when you are in the presence of those who oppose the Serpents, you may yet manage to defy our will. But the present state of affairs is entirely the work of the great sage. You couldn’t possibly have let your victims live expecting the princess to create this exact situation far, far down the road. That defies all logic.”

“A rare lapse in reasoning coming from you, Barbara. The logic is quite simple. You need only think about it for a moment. The people the Serpents ordered me to kill are inevitably those who pose a threat to them,” Lorenz replied in a firm voice. “That is to say, they are people who would be useful allies in fighting against the Serpents. Should I ever rise in rebellion against the Serpents, they are likely to come to my aid. I think that is more than sufficient reason to let them live.”

Barbara sneered at his argument.

“An amusing theory, but a mere theory nonetheless. The subjects who serve you are all under our influence. The Wind Crows too. Specifically, the White Crows, who’ve been working closely with the Yellowmoons. They were under the control of Jem. Nothing you did could possibly escape our notice. How do you propose to have pulled off this epic feat of deception then? On your own? With so many eyes on you? You somehow faked your victims’ deaths, and then simply whisked them away to some safe place? You, with all your craven incompetence?”

Barbara’s increasingly caustic ridicule elicited only a weak shrug.

“You speak the truth,” said Lorenz. “It pains me to admit that I am weak and ineffectual. I possess neither the power to oppose your people, nor even the strength to shield my own daughter from sorrow. It tears at my heart every day...”

He drew a breath. His expression grew placid as he looked at Barbara.

“But he...is not,” he said, gesturing at Bisset. “And he is the crucial piece you overlooked.”

That was exactly when Ludwig chose to wade into the conversation, speaking as if he’d recalled an interesting tidbit.

“On that note... Prince Sion, I’ve completely forgotten to relay to you the answer to the question you posed.”

“Hm? What question was this again?”

“It was, in fact, Her Highness who brought your question to my attention. Jason, Lucas, Max, Thanasis...and Bisset.”

Sion’s eyes grew in size as Ludwig rattled off the list of names.

“No way... You mean...”

Monica, not sharing his surprise, nodded in confirmation.

“Yes. The gentleman there who currently goes by Bisset is a former Wind Crow. The legendary architect of Sunkland’s intelligence network in Tearmoon.”

Bisset shook his head with mild disapproval at her description.

“Now, now. Exaggeration serves none of our interests. It’s all ancient history now.”

A man without name or face, shapeless and nondescript... That was the aging butler, currently known as Bisset. Meeting him drastically altered the course of Lorenz’s life and the fate of the entire house of Yellowmoon. From then on, fortunes also continued to smile on them. Time and again, Lorenz managed to deftly thread the needle, heeding demands for assassinations from the Serpents but never actually carrying them out.

He knew the Serpents. Knew how they slithered into hearts, exploited weaknesses, and pricked at wounds. They were masters of manipulation. His father and grandfather had stained their hands with blood. As a result, they became pawns of the Serpents, who used that fact against them until the end. Unlike other crimes, murder cannot be undone. To take another’s life—even once—was to invite their suffocating presence for life. Even a single murder was too much.

Lorenz had no desire to be controlled by their constricting tactics. Also, he just didn’t want to kill people. As a man whose heart mewed rather than roared, he hated pain and suffering with equal passion. Having already made the crucial observation that partaking even once in their deadly schemes meant there would be no going back, he lied and deceived himself out of every request.

But in the end, he was given a mission he could no longer evade—a direct order to kill Bisset. At the time, the Chaos Serpents had successfully snuck one of their men into Sunkland’s intelligence agency. That man was, of course, Jem. In his attempt to take over the Wind Crows, Bisset proved to be a major obstacle due to his experience and reputation. So, Jem sought to eliminate him. A betrayal by a friend ultimately forced Bisset into dire straits. It was then that Lorenz lent a helping hand and faked Bisset’s death to save him. Ever since then, Bisset had served Lorenz as his butler.

Though Barbara was a cunning Serpent, her know-how when it came to espionage was ultimately amateur. For Bisset, a former intelligence elite, fooling her was a simple task. Thus, Lorenz gained the critical components he needed—a route through which important figures could secretly escape abroad, and an ally who could help them do so.

“In the world of intelligence, local collaborators are worth their weight in gold. Therefore, information about them must be withheld even from one’s colleagues. This is something I learned from Master Bisset, and true to his own teachings, he never revealed to anyone the identity of his collaborator in Tearmoon,” added one of the two maids behind Mia.

So that’s the former Wind Crow, Miss Monica...

Lorenz mentally matched the description from reports to the person standing before him, then nodded.

“Indeed. I could have done none of this alone. Covertly transporting assassination targets to safer places abroad... Dropping their carriages off cliffs to make it look like they died... Such acts far exceeded my capabilities. It was all him.”

“Nonsense... Complete nonsense. That’s not possible,” said Barbara, head swaying from side to side in reflexive denial even as the irrefutable truth began to dawn.

With no dead bodies, there was no way to know if their victims were dead or alive. They could have sent detainment requests with personal descriptions to neighboring nations, but no one was likely to have bothered...because there didn’t seem to be any need to do so. None of them ever suspected that they, the deceivers, would become the deceived. But then, Barbara remembered something, and she regained her composure.

“Hah... You speak lies, milord. I know you’ve killed before. Killed him personally, in fact, with those special poisons of yours. I saw the body myself. I even confirmed it was dead.”

“My special poisons, you say... Ah, yes, I suppose that’s true. I have indeed used poisons before. After all, I have such extensive knowledge of them that...” He looked her in the face. “...it makes your own expertise seem like child’s play.”

Barbara’s mouth opened, but no words came. Understanding flashed across her widening eyes. It wasn’t a particularly difficult conclusion to reach. Had she ever stopped to think about it, it would surely have come to her already.

Duke Yellowmoon knew a lot about plants. And medicines. And poisons. That was common knowledge. But why did he know so much? How much of his encyclopedic expertise would be necessary if his only goal had been to kill? Did an assassin need to be familiar with every poison under the sun?

No. If death was the objective, a mere handful would suffice. The salamandrake, for example, was potent enough to kill with a single dose. Familiarity with a couple of poisons like that should be more than enough for an assassin. So why did the duke keep going then? With such lethal choices already available, why did he dig deeper, meticulously studying the kaleidoscopic effects of a variety of weaker poisons?

To not kill, of course.

He studied them to know what antidotes could be given to counter their effect. And, perhaps, how long he could wait to give them, after the victims have ostensibly drawn their last breaths.

“Do you know why I obsess over poisons, Barbara? It is so I can use ones you don’t know and feign the deaths of my victims. Unlike other methods of killing, poison is convenient, because it allows me to deceive your people,” he said with a smile of cathartic satisfaction.

It had, of course, all been a gamble. His efforts might have never borne fruit. Like Barbara said, the Yellowmoon faction was not capable of defending themselves against the rest of the empire in the case of war. The Serpents with their cunning ways could have whispered into the emperor’s ear, encouraging him to mobilize the army. They could also have secretly assassinated him and his allies. Had any of those highly possible scenarios occurred, this ace he kept up his sleeve would have been doomed to futility. But they didn’t occur, and he managed to slap his trump card down on the table.

Because she’s here...

Lorenz glanced at Mia. Ever since her arrival, he’d been carefully studying her, trying to discern if she was truly the trustworthy person the rumors claimed her to be. His answer came in the form of her expression when, faced with Barbara’s abuse of Citrina, she glared at the older woman with genuine anger. Willing or not, Citrina had been complicit in an attempt on her life. How many people would be upset by the mistreatment of someone who’d tried to kill them? A vindictive “serves you right” seemed the more likely response. Not Mia though. Mia was upset at how Citrina was being treated.

Apparently, Her Highness said she believes in Citrina. Perhaps...that alone should have been enough to deserve my full and unqualified trust.

That was the thought that had finally convinced him to throw in with her and show his long-concealed hand. With his cards revealed, he turned to Mia and said, “That is all, Your Highness. I have spoken all I wish to say and now humbly await your judgment.”

Faced with this relentless outpouring of new information, Mia responded in her usual manner.

“...Eh?”

With a slack-jawed stare of profound bewilderment.