The Cat Who Weeps in the Dark - Chapter 23

Helion raised his hand and shook the small bell placed on the desk.

Soon, the door opened, and servants entered. While two servants clung to the assassin’s corpse and dragged it away, another servant set down a tray of coffee and refreshments in front of Helion.

‘What a luxurious spread.’

Katie stifled a hollow laugh inwardly as she eyed the well-presented finger foods.

The prolonged war had brought unprecedented poverty to the kingdom. Of course, hunger had existed even before, but the people had lived in the hope that the great leader’s proclaimed “shared economy” would one day bring them prosperity.

As long as they held onto that belief, their immediate hunger was bearable. After all, the state periodically provided soup for the impoverished citizens.

But the war ruined everything. With fewer people able to work, the nation’s economy rapidly declined. Since everyone had been sharing the state’s workload, the reduced manpower meant the remaining citizens had to take on the missing workers’ shares as well.

As the war strained the nation, the rationed food dwindled further, while the required labor increased. It was only natural that the people’s resentment soared.

Life had grown so harsh that many in the kingdom didn’t even know finger foods existed. When there wasn’t even a blade of grass to put in their mouths, what use was dessert?

Yet here was the very instigator of that war, calmly enjoying coffee and desserts after surviving an assassination attempt.

From Katie’s perspective, it was a scene so infuriating it made her bones ache.

“Do you want some?”

Had he mistaken her displeased glare for something else? Helion raised an eyebrow and extended a coffee cup toward her.

“No.”

Katie refused immediately. It was the kind of high-class food only the empire’s hypocrites ate. There was no reason to desire it.

Besides, wanting something required knowing what it was in the first place. How could she crave a taste she’d never experienced?

Yet Helion didn’t withdraw his outstretched hand. He merely shook the cup lightly, as if urging her to take it.

“You don’t refuse what I offer.”

“…Understood.”

Katie gritted her teeth at the tiresome imperial etiquette but reluctantly accepted the coffee cup. However, Cheche’s expression beside her darkened.

“Your Highness, are you sure about this?”

“Is there a reason I shouldn’t be?”

Helion leaned back deeply into his chair, his gaze fixed on the cup in Katie’s hand. He even tilted his head slightly, as if urging her to drink.

Katie brought the cup to her lips. Helion’s eyes, locked onto it, followed its path with unnerving intensity.

The moment the rim touched her lips, Helion undid another button of his already half-open shirt. His tongue flicked out to wet his own lips as he stared at hers, unblinking.

‘Why is he looking at me like that?’

Where his gaze lingered, her lips tingled—just like that night in his bedroom. The sudden rush of memory made her mouth twitch. Noticing the slight movement, Helion’s lips curved smoothly.

Tch. Katie felt as if he’d read her thoughts and was mocking her. To hide her face, she buried her nose deep into the coffee cup.

Then—

A strange, unfamiliar scent brushed against her nostrils.

Sniff. Sniff.

Forgetting her earlier discomfort, Katie focused on the smell. A beastkin’s senses were sharp, and hers were exceptional. Amid the foreign aroma of the coffee beans, she detected something familiar.

‘Acto berries.’

Acto berries were a poison native only to the kingdom. A rare plant, she had first encountered them during her spy training.

They caused blood to coagulate. Without circulation, humans died—swiftly within hours, or at most, two days. A terrifying toxin.

‘Who would do this?’

A chill shot down her spine, and her grip on the cup tightened.

If Helion had drunk this—if something had happened to him—

The suspicion would point in only one direction: the kingdom. The Acto berry grew nowhere else.

And then, war would reignite. Just like the nightmare years before, countless lives would be lost.

“Your Highness, you must not drink this coffee.”

Katie tilted the cup and poured the coffee onto the floor. A dark brown stain spread across the white carpet, but she paid it no mind. The carpet was already ruined by the blood of the earlier intruder—one more stain wouldn’t make a difference.

What worried her was Helion and Cheche’s reaction.

‘What should I say if they ask why I spilled it?’

She couldn’t mention the Acto berries. Even if Helion hadn’t ingested them, that didn’t absolve the crime. If the empire learned the kingdom had tried to poison their prince again, all hell would break loose.

But instead of the interrogation she expected, what reached Katie—still unable to lift her head—was an unexpected round of applause.

“Congratulations, Dame Katie. You’ve survived another day.”

“…What?”

Cheche stepped forward and plucked the cup from her hand. Pressing his nose to it, he sniffed deeply, just as she had done moments ago.

“I had a hunch when I saw an unfamiliar servant bring it in, but sure enough—Acto berries again. Really, Prince Damian has no creativity.”

Acto berries had a faint scent, making them difficult for ordinary people to detect. But that was only by ordinary standards. For Helion and Cheche, who faced assassination attempts daily, recognizing the smell was child’s play.

“The ones who keep sending the same poison aren’t any more creative,” Helion remarked dryly.

“Still, this is too much. What if Dame Katie had actually drunk the coffee?” Cheche shot back.

Helion didn’t answer. But both Cheche and Katie could guess the unspoken words:

‘Even if she had, it wouldn’t have mattered.’