The silver bowl in Alistair's hand trembled slightly—not from fear, but from a cold sense of anticipation. On the marble floor, a small, seemingly starved rat began to approach, its nose twitching as it inhaled the savory—and lethal—aroma of the beef broth.
"Julian! What are you doing?" King Theodoric barked, his voice hoarse with confusion. "Are you accusing Maester Valerius of poisoning my daughter?"
"I am not accusing anyone, Your Majesty," Alistair replied without taking his eyes off the rodent. "I am merely conducting a simple laboratory test. If this is just ordinary broth, this rat will be fed. If not... then we will all know who must lose their head tonight."
Alistair tilted the bowl. A single drop of golden-brown liquid fell to the floor, directly in front of the rat's snout.
"Don't be ridiculous!" Valerius shouted, his voice shrill and borderline hysterical. "Your Majesty, this is an insult! He is wasting precious time just to play with vermin! The Princess must receive real treatment immediately!"
"Silence, Valerius!" The King raised his hand, his eyes fixed on the floor. "Let him prove it."
The rat began to lap up the droplet of broth greedily. One lick. Two licks.
The room suddenly fell into a dead silence. Elara, still leaning weakly against her pillows, watched the scene with wide eyes. Baron Cedric stood in the corner, his face as rigid as a stone carving, his gloved hand gripping the hilt of his sword until his knuckles turned white.
Suddenly, the rat stopped licking.
Its body began to shudder violently. A short, pained squeak escaped its throat. And then, something horrific happened. The rat's grey, furry skin began to harden, turning a deep, pitch black with a glassy sheen.
Crack... crack...
The sound of crystallization, faint yet clear, echoed through the silence. Within seconds, the rat moved no more. It had transformed into a small obsidian statue, frozen in a curled position, looking exactly like the black vomit that had erupted from Elara's mouth earlier.
"By the Gods..." Kaelen whispered in horror, taking a step back.
Alistair stood tall, placing the poisoned bowl back onto the silver tray with a cold metallic clink. He looked at Valerius, whose face was now the color of a corpse.
"Pure arsenic mixed with an extract of the Obsidian parasite," Alistair explained clinically. "Whoever concocted this knew exactly what they were doing. This isn't just a poison to kill a human; it is 'fertilizer' to accelerate the growth of the parasite inside the Princess's body. If the Princess had taken even a single spoonful of this, her heart would have turned to stone within minutes."
King Theodoric stepped forward, his aura of rage feeling like a storm ready to explode. He grabbed the collar of Valerius's robe and jerked him forward until the Maester's face was only inches from his own.
"GIVE ME ONE REASON WHY I SHOULD NOT HANG YOU THIS INSTANT, VALERIUS!" the King roared.
"Y-Your Majesty! Mercy!" Valerius gasped, his eyes darting wildly for an escape. "It wasn't me! I swear! This broth was prepared in the kitchens below! I only... I only carried it! There must be an intruder among the chefs! Yes! A servant paid by the kingdom's enemies!"
Valerius pointed toward the door with a trembling hand. "The head chef! He is responsible for every dish that comes out! I will find him! I will make sure he speaks!"
"Do you think I'm stupid?" Alistair interrupted, his voice calm yet piercing. "A royal chef would not have access to Obsidian parasite extract. Only someone with high alchemical knowledge and access to the palace laboratory could brew this."
Alistair glanced toward Baron Cedric. "Or perhaps someone with a vested interest in ensuring their medical secrets remain buried."
Cedric snorted, his expression remaining flat. "Do not try to shift the blame onto me, Convict. I have only just arrived. If there is a traitor in this palace, it is Maester Valerius's responsibility to explain it."
"Enough!" King Theodoric released his grip on Valerius roughly, sending the old man tumbling to the floor. "Kaelen! Take your men! Seal the kitchen! Arrest everyone who touched this food! And you, Valerius... do not dare leave this room without my permission."
Kaelen bowed respectfully and immediately ran out, his voice commanding the guards echoing along the corridors.
Alistair returned to Elara's bedside. He saw the Princess's hands shaking uncontrollably. The fear of being betrayed by those around her seemed more painful than the disease itself.
"Do not be afraid," Alistair whispered, his voice softening slightly for only Elara to hear. "I am still here. Nothing will enter your mouth without my consent."
Elara looked at him, a flicker of fragile trust in her eyes. "Why are you helping me, Julian? After what this kingdom did to you?"
Alistair paused for a moment while checking the silver needles still embedded in Elara's arm. He recalled the memories of the original Julian—the pain in the dungeon, the cruel slander. But then, he remembered his oath as Alistair Thorne.
"Because disease is the only enemy that is truly fair in this world, Princess," Alistair replied. "It does not care if you are a king or a prisoner. And I... I do not like losing to the same enemy twice."
King Theodoric approached Alistair, his anger now replaced by deep desperation. "What must we do now? She cannot eat. She is growing weaker."
"We will remake her food here, before my eyes," Alistair commanded. "And after that, we must proceed to a more crucial stage. Clearing the poison from this soup is not our main problem. The main problem is that the 'Mother' of the parasite is still hiding in the core area of her body."
Alistair looked sharply at the King. "And as I stated before, Your Majesty... I need total privacy. This procedure involves stimulating blood flow at highly sensitive nerve points. If her blood is not manually pumped immediately to flush out these remaining toxins, her recovery earlier will be nothing more than a mirage."
Valerius, still sitting on the floor, tried to speak again. "Privacy? You still ask for privacy after an assassination attempt? What if you are the one poisoning her now?!"
Alistair did not answer with words. He picked up the obsidian rat statue from the floor and threw it directly at Valerius's feet.
"This rat died because of the broth you brought, Maester. If I wanted the Princess dead, I would have simply stayed silent and let you feed her earlier."
King Theodoric stared at the rat statue, then at Alistair. He took a long, heavy breath, as if a great weight were pressing on his shoulders. "Do what you must. I will stand guard right outside this door with Kaelen. Anyone who tries to enter without your permission... will die."
One by one, they left the room. Baron Cedric was the last to exit, giving Alistair a final, meaningful look—a warning that this game had only just begun.
The door closed. Silence once again enveloped the room.
Alistair took a long breath. He picked up a bottle of pure alcohol—which he had fashioned himself from the palace's liquor supply—and began to sterilize his hands.
"Elara," Alistair called softly.
"Yes?" the Princess replied with a raspy voice.
"This will feel... very strange. Perhaps a bit embarrassing for you," Alistair sat on the edge of the bed. He placed his hand over Elara's stomach, right at the solar plexus where the black knot was hidden. "But I must perform a meridian massage to force the parasite to release your internal organs. You must stay awake, understood?"
Elara nodded slowly, though her eyes were beginning to dim from exhaustion. "I... I trust you, Julian."
Alistair began a rhythmic pressing motion. His warm hands began to work beneath the thin silk gown, searching for blood flow points in the sensitive area that served as the 'heart' of the Obsidian spread.
Alistair had just found the epicenter of the parasite—a hard, pulsing lump beneath the ribs that radiated heat. However, as he applied firm pressure to break the knot, Elara bolted fully awake. Her consciousness returned with a sudden burst of energy, and the first thing she felt was a pair of rough, warm male hands working inside her gown, directly against the exposed skin of her stomach. Elara's eyes widened, her breath hitched, as she found Alistair staring at her with an intensity so close that their breaths touched. "W-What are you doing..." Elara whispered, her face suddenly turning perfectly crimson.