1.
“Kyle! Kyle!”
Edwin, taken aback, momentarily forgot that he needed to ring the bell.
Fortunately, Kyle, who had been waiting just outside the door, heard the urgency in Edwin’s voice and rushed in. “What’s going on?”
The easygoing demeanor that usually defined Kyle had vanished. Seeing Edwin—a man who remained unshaken even before hundreds of thousands of enemy troops—actually raise his voice, Kyle knew something had gone terribly wrong.
Once Edwin confirmed Kyle had entered, he shifted, adjusting Ri-Na’s posture so she leaned more comfortably against the sofa. Then, he commanded in a low, sharp voice.
“Carolina Diaz drank alcohol laced with a truth serum and fainted. Get a physician, now.”
“What? How did this—”
“I will explain once Miss Diaz wakes up. Hurry.”
“Understood.”
Kyle bolted to fetch the physician stationed at the guild. Edwin placed his fingers under Ri-Na’s nose. Her breathing was faint, but rhythmic. As he awkwardly checked her pulse, the door disguised as a wall opened, and the physician entered behind Kyle.
Azela, panting as if she had run all the way from the laboratory, took a brief moment to catch her breath before moving to the sofa.
“She drank alcohol mixed with truth serum and suddenly fainted,” Edwin repeated.
“What was the dosage?”
“An entire bottle mixed with half the standard dose.”
“That shouldn’t be a major issue, but that’s strange,” Azela murmured. “The serum we use has almost no toxicity.” She pulled out a diagnostic magical tool to examine Ri-Na. After a moment, she announced her findings. “It’s the blue dragonfly-wing herb in the serum. It’s fundamentally incompatible with her constitution. With the alcohol, her body simply couldn’t handle the reaction.”
Azela transcribed the findings into her notebook. “Quite a rare constitution, this one.”
Seeing Azela’s clinical, almost curious attitude, the tension in Kyle and Edwin’s shoulders eased slightly.
“What is the treatment?” Edwin asked.
“Give her a bottle of the antidote and let her rest for three or four days. She’ll be fine.”
“Any aftereffects?”
“Probably not.”
Azela’s gaze shifted to Edwin, perhaps surprised to see him displaying such meticulous concern.
“It is our fault,” Edwin offered, his voice tight with an uncharacteristic apology.
“Since we brought a client to this state, it is only natural that we take responsibility,” Kyle added, having grown fond of Ri-Na since their shared coffee.
Satisfied, Azela nodded. “I happen to have one bottle of antidote left. It would have taken a long time to brew more, so you are in luck.”
She returned shortly with a small vial of pale orange liquid. With the care one might show a small child, she tilted Ri-Na’s head back, held her nose, and fed her the medicine with a silver spoon. The vial, no larger than two fingers, was emptied quickly.
Azela checked Ri-Na one last time with the diagnostic tool. “Once the antidote sets in, she should wake in about thirty minutes. Call me if anything changes. I’ll need to start brewing more.”
She retreated back through the hidden wall. Kyle and Edwin stood watching the sofa. It felt like it was going to be a long half hour.
***
It was only after I had drunk the rest of the alcohol to buy time that I realized—*Is this poison?*
My vision blurred unnaturally. My heartbeat seesawed between a frantic flutter and a sluggish crawl. My body burned with fever, yet my fingertips felt as if they had been dipped in ice water.
But the ability to register these sensations lasted only a second. Then, my consciousness collapsed.
I didn’t know how much time had passed.
I opened my eyes, feeling a chill as if I’d been doused with ice water. Before me stood Everett and Kyle. My heart sank; I was trapped with the very men who had poisoned me.
“Help me,” I whispered. I thought I had shouted, but the voice that reached my ears was a pathetic, small plea.
Kyle and Everett’s gazes locked. Kyle, the softer of the two, offered a reassuring smile. “Please calm down, Miss Diaz. It was just a brief, unfortunate accident.”
*Unfortunate accident? Doesn’t that mean you tried to kill me and failed?*
My thoughts spilled out as speech before I could stop them. “What unfortunate accident? Doesn’t that mean you tried to kill me and failed?”
I clapped both hands over my mouth, eyes wide. *What is this? I wouldn’t say such things to my would-be murderers!* It felt as though my words were bypassing my brain entirely.
“My, it seems the antidote hasn’t fully taken effect yet,” Kyle observed with concern. “It is fine. It will get better soon.”
“What did you feed me?” I asked, my voice muffled by my palms, though loud enough for them to hear.
“A truth serum,” Everett replied, his tone chillingly flat. “I could not resolve my suspicions regarding how you made contact with the guild.”
“So you used a truth serum? Are you crazy? I thought I was actually going to die!”
They ignored my panicked critique.
“None of our members have any history of contact with you,” Everett continued. “To build a relationship of trust, it is best to clear away all suspicions, is it not?”
“That’s obvious.” I bit my tongue hard before I could blurt out that I had been reincarnated into a storybook world. A sore tongue was better than being treated like a lunatic.
“Since it isn’t gentlemanly to interrogate you further, I will let it go,” Everett said. “I will take you home once you’ve calmed down.”
It was a surprisingly kind gesture from a man who had just poisoned me. As Everett led Kyle out of the room, leaving me alone in the silence, I stared at the walls.
“I almost lost my tongue,” I muttered. “Truth serum… so this really is an information guild.”
A cold, cruel reality settled into my bones. But they *did* provide an antidote.
I waited, enduring the lingering aches of the reaction, trying to keep my thoughts behind my teeth. *Think before you speak. Just once every two attempts.*
*Knock, knock.*
I replied with a guarded word. The door opened, and Everett entered.
“Are you feeling better?”
“Giving the disease and then the remedy…” I snapped my mouth shut, but the jab had already landed.
Everett chuckled. “At that rate, you will be fully detoxed soon.”
He approached and held out his hand. “It’s late. Just before curfew. I could let you sleep here, but I don’t think you would want that.”
*Certainly not.* I wanted my own bed.
“Thank you, Rohas,” I said, placing my hand in his.
Everett halted, his expression shifting into something unreadable. “Did you call me Rohas?”
“Was I not supposed to?”
He chuckled again. “I roughly understand how things are. I suppose it doesn’t matter.”
“Pardon?”
“No, well… call me Sir Rohas if you can.”
What a dry man. “Ah, yes. Sir Rohas.”
We stepped out into the street. With curfew approaching, the city was pitch black. We walked in an awkward silence, the only sounds the rhythmic tapping of our footsteps. I stole glances at him; he was as taciturn as he was sincere. We exchanged a few words about Connie’s status, but the conversation withered quickly.
*Ah, Grizel Park.*
The park sign appeared, signaling I was close to home. Sensing my relief, Everett let out a small, soft laugh.
“Why are you laughing?”
“It’s just fascinating,” he said. “You seem so afraid of the night streets, yet Grizel Park doesn’t scare you at all.”
“If Grizel Park scared me, I wouldn’t have lived here.”
“I suppose there isn’t anyone who would appear as a ghost in your dreams.”
His words were meant as a light joke. Yet, as he spoke them, the weight behind them seemed to grow. He seemed to notice it, too, for his expression stiffened ever so slightly.