Though it had been years since anyone had lived there, the Queen's chambers were immaculately clean—everything in its place, not a speck of dust.
Wei Wei followed the steward inside and glanced around at the furnishings. It was clear this room had once been occupied. Much of it was still preserved as if the owner had just stepped out and never returned. But she'd heard before that Queen Mirabelle, even when she had first married the king, had never once stayed in this chamber.
This had once been the quarters of the former queen. From the time she married the king until the day she succumbed to illness, the king had never asked her to move out. After her death, Mirabelle—now the second queen—had expressed interest in living here, but every time she brought it up, whether during her early days in the palace or after regaining favor later on, the king always refused.
Wei Wei hadn't gone digging for this gossip. She'd heard it from Countess Nelson, who had long been at odds with Queen Mirabelle. The countess loved to mock her rival over this, often declaring that Mirabelle wasn't the true mistress of the palace—because everyone knew the queen should reside in the queen's chamber. No matter how poor her relationship with her husband, tradition dictated that the lady of the house live in that room.
Every time Countess Nelson brought it up, it infuriated Mirabelle—but there was little she could do about it.
Still, Wei Wei didn't believe that the king's refusal proved any deep affection for his former queen. Yes, she had always enjoyed the honors and privileges due to her status, and yes, she had retained exclusive rights to these chambers—but that didn't stop her husband from keeping mistresses, just like any other noble.
The so-called devotion to keeping this space for her was probably just the king's way of easing his conscience—a comforting lie to himself.
Wei Wei didn't linger on the room's layout. Instead, she went straight to the fireplace. Though cold and unused, it had an iron hook and chain perfect for hanging a pot.
She instructed the steward, "Please bring a ceramic pot if possible."
Then she added, "And have my husband and the maids come in. They brought the herbs we need, and they can assist me."
Ordinarily, no one would be allowed to casually enter the queen's private chambers. But this was hardly a normal situation. Wei Wei was their only hope of saving the king, so the steward didn't hesitate to accommodate her.
He stepped out, and before long, Felix and the five maids were brought in.
The maids knew why they'd been summoned. They quickly set the medicine chests on the floor and opened them, revealing neatly prepared herbs inside.
Kama said, "If anything's missing, I can go look for it."
Wei Wei waved a hand. "No need. Everything I need is right here."
She had swept through the entire apothecary before departing, so she'd made sure she had every necessary herb—though likely not in large enough quantities for a full course of treatment.
Taking a seat, she picked up a quill and paper and began drafting a prescription. As she wrote, she called out each ingredient by name. Kama crouched by the chests, swiftly identifying and measuring each herb. Her movements were so fast and precise that she was keeping pace with Wei Wei's dictation—by the time the prescription was written, all the herbs were already laid out, perfectly portioned.
Wei Wei praised her with a smile, and the other maids looked at Kama in awe.
Just as they finished preparing the ingredients, the steward returned. He was surprised to see the sizable pile of herbs they had selected—he likely hadn't expected that treating the king would require so many.
But that only deepened his confidence in Wei Wei's expertise.
A servant arrived carrying firewood and quickly got a blaze going in the fireplace. The pot, now filled with clean water and herbs, was hung over the fire, and once everything was arranged, the servant sensibly withdrew.
Normally, the herbs should have been soaked for a while before boiling to release their full potency. But with the king's condition critical, time was of the essence. Wei Wei instructed Kama to start brewing the decoction immediately.
After asking how long the brewing would take—and learning it would be at least an hour—the steward offered to bring them some food.
"I apologize. Due to His Majesty's illness, the palace is not hosting any banquets. Even the princes and queen take their meals separately in their quarters. With your permission, I'll have food brought here."
He then glanced at Kama by the hearth and the other maids, clearly wondering where he should arrange for them to eat. Had the Williams household entered the palace in a more formal, public fashion, the maids could have dined with the staff. But right now, any unfamiliar face would raise suspicion.
Letting the maids eat with their masters, however, might be seen as inappropriate.
"It's fine," Wei Wei said calmly. "Have all the meals sent here. Until the medicine is ready, we shouldn't leave this room."
The steward gave her a long look—his gaze sharpening, darkening. He was already pondering how to deal with whoever had dared poison the king.
Then he turned and left again.
Watching him go without a second thought, Wei Wei became even more convinced of something: the king's supposed "devotion" to the former queen was just a convenient illusion.
If he had truly cherished her, the steward wouldn't have offered these chambers so casually—nor allowed them to dine here, let alone bring in the maids. At the very least, the maids would have been directed elsewhere.
Setting those thoughts aside, and with no outsiders present, Wei Wei leaned close to Felix and quietly revealed the truth about the king's condition.
"He was poisoned?" Felix asked, stunned. Though he had started to suspect it after Wei Wei first floated the theory, hearing it confirmed still shocked him.
The maids were just as taken aback. Aside from Kama—who had suspected as much while preparing the prescription—the others gasped in disbelief. None of them could fathom that someone would dare to poison the king.
"But who would do such a thing?"
Wei Wei and Felix spoke the name in unison—Duke Romanov.
"Not necessarily," Wei Wei said, frowning.
"But he's the most likely suspect," Felix replied.
Wei Wei hesitated. "Do you think there could be others involved?"
Felix blinked. "Why do you say that?"
Wei Wei explained, "The king and Duke Romanov are political enemies. They've always been wary of each other. Even if it was Romanov, he wouldn't have done it himself. He must have had help."
Felix considered it. "Couldn't he have just bribed someone close to the king? That seems more likely."
Wei Wei shook her head. "When the steward asked about the cause, I didn't tell him everything. The king was poisoned long ago, but the last dose was administered about a month ago. Based on his pulse, he likely collapsed not long after that."
She paused to gather her thoughts. "When I checked his pulse, I found that while his condition appears grim, his life force is still intact. Treating him won't be difficult. But if someone had poisoned him again in the past month, he wouldn't have survived long enough for me to get here."
Even chronic poisons, if administered in large enough doses, could kill swiftly. And once the king was already unconscious, his death would have seemed like the natural progression of a mysterious illness—especially to doctors who had no clue it was poison in the first place.
If the person behind the poisoning truly wanted the king dead, they wouldn't have hesitated to deliver a final dose. But since that didn't happen, Wei Wei believed the current palace staff—the few remaining close attendants—were not involved.
"I asked the steward," she continued. "He said the king purged his entire retinue about a month ago. The only ones still allowed to serve him are the steward himself and a few long-time attendants—people who've handled his care for years."
So if those few people had been around since the beginning—and hadn't acted in the last month—Wei Wei felt their suspicion could be lowered.
But Felix wasn't so sure. "You can't be certain. Maybe they didn't act again because they were afraid of getting caught."
Wei Wei shot back, "Do you think Duke Romanov is the kind of person who cares whether an informant gets exposed?"
Of course not. If the king died, exposure wouldn't matter. Romanov had never hidden his ambitions. He was openly defiant of the king, practically one step away from declaring war. He was arrogant and ruthless—if he had planted someone in the palace, he wouldn't hesitate to have them strike the final blow, no matter the risk.
This was why Wei Wei believed the culprit wasn't one of the king's current attendants, but rather someone with a different status.
Someone like a noblewoman formerly residing in the palace… a mistress… or perhaps even—
Queen Mirabelle.
The moment Wei Wei voiced her suspicion, the room fell utterly silent. The only sound was the crackling of the firewood in the hearth. The maids froze like statues, stunned by the audacity of her theory.
Even Felix didn't speak for a long moment. Then he finally asked, "Why would you suspect the queen?"
Wei Wei tapped her temple. "Intuition."
That made Felix chuckle in disbelief.
But Wei Wei continued, "Well… intuition and some evidence."
Felix straightened. "Go on."
"You know I've been corresponding with Countess Nelson."
Felix nodded. He was well aware. It was almost hard to believe the haughty, hard-to-please Countess Nelson had become friends with Wei Wei. They were more than ten years apart in age and had only spent a limited amount of time together, yet they exchanged letters regularly. Because of that friendship, Felix and the count had even become strong political allies.
Wei Wei went on, "Countess Nelson and Queen Mirabelle have always been rivals. In nearly every letter she sends me, she includes a tidbit about the queen. About a year ago, the king took a new mistress and began ignoring Mirabelle again. According to the countess, a maid close to the queen once let slip that Her Majesty had been furious—so angry she smashed her bedroom and even cursed the king."
Naturally, this information had come from a paid informant. Countess Nelson had bought off the maid.
The maid said that Mirabelle's face had been truly terrifying when she made her threats. Though she later calmed down and returned to playing the role of the devoted wife, the maid had always believed her words weren't just outbursts—they were sincere.