After the failed mission during the naming ceremony, the Empress met with the apostle once again. This time, he warned her sternly: she could do anything she wanted to the child—but she must not kill her. The Empress was baffled by this restriction. Why can’t I kill her?

Though momentarily subdued by the apostle's words, her silence didn’t last long.

A few months after the naming ceremony, the Empress summoned her trusted maid, Emily. “Emily, summon one of the new maids and give her this vial. This black vial contains a mixture of hemlock bane and aconitum.”

Hemlock bane, a poisonous plant found deep within the forests touched by the Abyss, resembled a lush green vine covered in thorns, adorned with striking red flowers. However, its beauty concealed a deadly nature. A carnivorous plant, it spat a potent venom at its prey. This venom, a dirty green liquid, became even more lethal when combined with aconitum, or wolf’s bane, turning it transparent and doubling its potency. Diluting the concoction in water wouldn’t weaken its effect. The venom, once in contact with the body, would cause the skin to melt away like wax. Only the application or ingestion of panacea—a rare medicinal plant found exclusively in the coldest regions of the Empire—could counteract its effects.

The Empress’s eyes gleamed with malicious satisfaction as she examined the vial. Emily, observing her mistress's expression, hesitated before speaking. “But, Your Highness, didn’t the apostle warn against killing the princess?”

On the brink of losing her sanity, the Empress no longer cared whether the child lived or died. To her, eliminating a major obstacle to her ambitions outweighed the warnings of a mere apostle. The Empress smirked. “Oh, Emily, don’t be foolish. Haven’t you heard? The Archduke recently sent a few vials of potions made from panacea. As long as Agatha acts swiftly, the child will survive. But by then, our precious princess will have lost her charm forever.”

Just days earlier, the Archduke had subdued a monster wave in the frozen eastern plains, sending his granddaughter a trove of exotic furs and rare potions. Among these treasures was the panacea—a rare, life-saving remedy the Empress planned to rely on, not out of mercy, but to ensure the child survived with permanent scars.

Emily couldn’t help but pity the innocent princess, unwittingly caught in the crossfire of the Empress’s unrelenting greed for the throne. Yet, Emily knew better: as long as the Empress achieved her ambitions, she cared little for who suffered—or who died—in her wake.

Emily approached the group of maids who served the Empress, her gaze settling on the newer recruits—mercenaries discreetly hired at the Empress's request. Selecting one of them, she handed over a small vial.

"Keep this with you at all times," Emily instructed in a hushed tone. "When I give the signal, mix this into the princess's bathwater. It's highly poisonous, so handle it with care. And if you're caught..." Her voice turned cold. "You know what to do."

Satisfied, Emily waited for the perfect moment to execute the plan. Fortune seemed to favor them when the maid, who usually tended to the princess, left her post to fetch supplies from the pantry. Seeing her opportunity, Emily deliberately delayed the maid with idle chatter, subtly signaling the mercenary to act.

Since the moment the princess was born, Alice had been her constant caretaker. She meticulously bathed her, changed her clothes, and fed her. Princess Agatha was often overwhelmed with paperwork and state matters, so Alice ensured the princess wouldn’t disturb her mother, who was already struggling to balance her duties and the demands of a newborn. Despite her tender age, the princess would behave as long as she could catch even a glimpse of her mother. In this way, both mother and daughter found small moments of happiness.

Alice cherished her role, loving every second of caring for the princess. The little one was endlessly adorable, always smiling and gesturing with her tiny hands. Her charm was such that even the other maids often found excuses to visit her.

This was the first time since the princess’s birth that Alice had left her alone with Agatha, even briefly. When the Empress’s personal maid unexpectedly stopped her for idle chatter, Alice felt something was off. The sensation only deepened as she spotted an unfamiliar maid carrying the princess away—like scattered, puzzling thoughts suddenly fell into place. Alarmed, Alice rushed to Agatha.

“Princess Agatha, who is the maid that took the little princess?”

Agatha looked up from her documents, confusion etched on her face. “Wasn’t she sent by you because you were busy?”

The bewildered expression on Alice’s face told Agatha all she needed to know—something was wrong. No further explanation was needed. Both women sprang into action.

“Raechel, find Alexander!” Agatha commanded her personal maid. Without hesitation, Raechel darted toward the training grounds to fetch him.

As Agatha rushed toward her daughter, her mind couldn’t help but dwell on the moment when the maid approached her, convincing her to leave the child. Agatha, known for her cautious nature, had trusted the maid due to her frequent presence around the palace. The maid’s familiar face had eased her doubts, but now that trust felt like a fatal mistake.

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Agatha and Alice quickly made their way to the bathroom, where they found the maid about to lower the princess into the bathwater. The tip of the princess’s toe was mere inches from the water when Agatha bellowed, “Stop!”

The maid froze, her head snapping up to face the doorway. Agatha’s fierce expression and Alice’s frightened gaze seemed to faze her for a moment. But then the maid’s lips twisted into a maniacal grin, her eyes gleaming with madness. Without warning, to Agatha and Alice’s horror, the maid released her grip on the princess, letting her fall into the bathwater.

But to everyone’s shock, instead of the expected ear-piercing wails of a terrified toddler, the room was filled with an excited giggle.

The maid’s face paled as she turned to look at the child, who was happily swinging her hands and laughing in the water. Confusion and terror etched across her face as she stared at the princess lying in the poisoned water. Did I mistakenly grab another vial instead of the poison? No, that’s not possible—I’m sure I took the right one!

Desperation drove her to reach out and touch the water, hoping for confirmation. The next moment, an ear-piercing scream erupted from her lips, echoing through the palace corridors. It was this sound that greeted Prince Alexander as he arrived, accompanied by a frightened Raechel and a visibly weary Frederick.

As soon as Alexander saw the maid clutching her melting hand, his expression turned to one of icy resolve. Without a second thought, he drew his sword and swiftly amputated her disintegrating limb to prevent further damage.

Just as he was about to reach for his joyfully playing daughter in the tub, Agatha’s sharp voice rang out, breaking the haze of urgency.

“Stop! Don’t touch her!”

Stop! Don’t touch her!” Agatha’s voice rang out, sharper this time. In a blur of movement, she dashed to her bedside table and snatched a small glass vial from its hiding spot. Without hesitation, she downed one pill, her hands trembling, and thrust the vial at Alexander. “Make her take one. If she doesn't, she won’t survive. I want her alive.”

Alexander quickly tried to force one of the pills into the maid’s mouth, but the maid summoned every ounce of strength left to refuse. In the struggle, Alexander noticed a unique symbol on her wrist—one he recognized. Meanwhile, Agatha turned her attention back to their daughter. Kneeling beside the tub, she gently scooped up the giggling princess, cradling her in her arms.

Looking at her unharmed and cheerful child, Agatha couldn’t hide her amazement. A smile tugged at her lips, her voice trembling with a mix of relief and awe. “My little cupcake, you’re truly extraordinary.” Turning to Rachel, she commanded, “Call for the royal physician.”

Agatha, her gaze locked on the maid, turned to her husband. "It seems you have some work to do."

Agatha carefully handed her daughter to Alice, then crouched beside the now glaring maid and took the now-empty vial from the floor. “Frederick, keep this safe and be careful. It’s Hemlock Bane.”

Frederick, who had witnessed many things in his years as a close attendant to the first prince, was shaken by the sheer malice behind such a heinous act. Carefully, he wrapped the vial in a cloth and signaled two guards to take the maid to the underground dungeon. While being dragged away by the guards, the maid shouted gleefully, "What do you think? Just because she was saved today doesn’t mean she won’t die tomorrow."

Agatha’s expression grew serious as she turned to her husband. “We can’t let this happen again. This time, she was saved by sheer luck. But what about the next time? What if we’re not so fortunate?”

Alexander’s eyes hardened with determination. “It won’t happen again,” he said firmly.

Moments later, the royal physician, Raphael, rushed into the room, his expression filled with urgency. “Your Highness, what has happened? I was in the middle of something when I was summoned in such haste.”

First Prince Alexander glanced at the old royal physician. “Can you examine the princess and ensure she’s unharmed?”

Raphael’s eyes softened as he looked at the perfectly healthy toddler, sitting contentedly in her mother’s arms with a sweet, innocent expression. “What could possibly be wrong? She looks perfectly fine.”

Alexander pressed him further. “You won’t know unless you check.”

With a reluctant nod, Raphael carefully examined the child, searching for any sign of illness or distress. After thorough examination, he sighed with relief. “Your Highness, the little princess is perfectly healthy.”

But Alexander wasn’t convinced. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “That can’t be right... Are you absolutely sure?”

Raphael looked at him, clearly affronted. “Your Highness, are you doubting me? I’ve served as the royal physician for years. I was the one who cared for you during your childhood illnesses. Have I ever made a mistake?”

Alexander sighed, scratching his chin in frustration. “It’s not that I’m questioning your skill, Raphael. It’s just... the princess fell into a bath laced with Hemlock Bane.”

The royal physician froze as though struck by lightning. His eyes widened, and his face turned ashen. “What?” he whispered, his voice trembling as he turned from Alexander to Agatha and then to the little princess. “Are you saying the child was fully submerged in water poisoned with Hemlock Bane?”

Agatha’s heart ached as she observed the royal physician’s shocked expression and heard him mutter, “No… I don’t believe it.”

“Your Highness,” Raphael said, his tone filled with disbelief and urgency, “No one can survive exposure to Hemlock Bane. Did you give her panacea?”

Alexander shook his head. “No, we didn’t.”

Raphael stared at the princess one more time, his mind struggling to process the impossible. “This can’t be. If what you’re saying is true, the little princess… she should’ve succumbed.”

Agatha’s gaze was full of worry as she looked at the physician. “Is there no explanation for this?”

“I need to investigate further,” Raphael said, his voice almost hollow. “There might be a resistance, but I must confirm it. I’ll go to the royal library. If there’s any clue, it’ll be there.”

With that, Raphael hurried off, leaving the family to ponder the impossible.

Alexander gazed at his daughter with a tender smile. “Little cupcake, you continue to amaze your mom and dad every day.”

Without another word, he turned and strode out of the room, his attendant hurrying to follow him as he made his way to the underground dungeon where the maid was being held.