The Harvest Mouse Exits the Fairytale Together with Cinderella

Still, it wasn’t something that would kill him.

Elodie watched the maid steeping the tea, her expression anything but pleased.
And then—
The maid opened a small container.

A strong, pungent scent hit Elodie like a slap, making her eyes widen in alarm.
Herbs from the Kingdom of Velma!
Elodie froze as the maid sprinkled the powdered herb into the tea and placed the cup in front of Eisen.

"No!"
She shot up from her seat as Eisen, without a second thought, brought the teacup to his lips.
CRASH!

Too late.
By the time she realized what she had done, she had already hit the floor with a resounding thud.
Elodie clutched her stinging nose, her face scrunched up in pain.

Right… I’m still cursed.
She couldn’t walk on two feet without holding onto something.
"Good grief."

Eisen let out an exasperated sigh.
With a small clink, he set the teacup back down on the desk.
It worked.

It hadn’t been intentional, but one way or another, she had prevented him from drinking it.
"Can’t take my eyes off you for a second, can I?"
Before she could react, she suddenly felt herself lifted into the air.
At the same time, a drop of red dripped from her nose onto the floor.

Ah. Blood.
Reflexively, Elodie tilted her head back, but Eisen’s firm grip clamped down on her head.
"Don’t tilt back. It’ll go down your throat."

"……."
"Just let it bleed out."
He pressed the back of her head down, keeping her still, and without hesitation, wiped the blood away—with his own sleeve.

Elodie gawked at the sight of the expensive fabric soaking up her blood.
"Your clothes are ruined!"
"I don’t carry handkerchiefs."

Well… yeah, that did seem like something he would find annoying.
But to actually use his own sleeve without a second thought?
"Isn’t blood dirty?"

"It happens every day."
Elodie’s pupils trembled violently.
Every day?

How was having blood on your clothes every day normal?
The reason was probably something gruesome, so she forced herself not to ask.
"Why did you tell me not to drink it?"

She tensed.
Eisen pinched the bridge of his nose, still stemming the blood, and waited for her answer.
"Sir! If you drink that, you won’t be able to feel anything!"

It was a neurotoxin.
Five years from now, there would be a trend—people mixing Sindora tea leaves with herbs from the Kingdom of Velma for an even stronger wakefulness effect.
It worked, too.

Since it was an herb being mixed into tea, most assumed it was harmless and even beneficial.
But if the two substances happened to combine in a very specific ratio…
It caused complete nerve paralysis.

Six months after the trend started, cases began to emerge.
People lost their sense of touch entirely.
Some even stuck their hands into fire without feeling a thing.

It was especially lethal for knights and warriors, whose bodies were finely attuned to every movement—
Like Duke Valkyrisen.
Elodie had no idea if this particular cup of tea had been mixed in the wrong ratio.

But if it had…
She had to stop it.
"You won’t be able to feel anything?"

"One is fine. Two mixed together? Big trouble. I saw it happen."
She had seen it.
Just… not in this timeline.

"I’ve been drinking this blend for a long time. Nothing like that has ever happened."
"Not always. It depends on the ratio."
"…So it can become poison depending on how it’s mixed?"

Eisen’s expression darkened instantly.
In Valkyrisen territory?
His tone implied that someone daring to attempt something like that under his watch was utterly unacceptable.

His sharp gaze snapped to the maid who had prepared the tea.
She went deathly pale and immediately collapsed to her knees, frantically shaking her head.
"I-I didn’t know! I swear!"

"Stand up."
"Sir, please! I only followed what I heard—this method is popular in the capital right now! I only did what others were doing to help wake you up, sir!"
"I said, stand up."

The maid, her face streaked with tears and snot, wobbled to her feet.
Eisen scrutinized her trembling eyes.
Then, after a moment, he relaxed slightly.

"…She’s not lying."
Could he really tell just by looking?
Elodie was impressed.

Lowering her voice, she whispered in Eisen’s ear,
"It’s not popular. The person who told her that lied."
No one now would think to mix those two ingredients.

That trend wouldn’t appear for another five years.
The reason?
Because the Velma herbs were a recently developed hybrid strain. They were still too new for people to even consider using them this way.

Eisen narrowed his eyes slightly at her words.
Then, turning back to the trembling maid, he asked,
"Who told you to do this?"

"Earl Hamilton, sir."
She answered instantly, eager to clear her name.
"And who gifted me this herb from Velma?"

He directed the question to his aide.
The man let out a short sigh before replying.
"…Earl Hamilton."

"I see."
Eisen gave a simple order.
"Bring him in."

***
"The doctor game will have to wait for another time."
As soon as her nosebleed stopped, Elodie was promptly kicked out of Eisen’s office.

Hmph.
Not surprising.
No sane person would let a five-year-old witness an interrogation.

But I need to see this.
It was highly unlikely that Earl Hamilton had innocently discovered a new tea recipe and just wanted to help the Duke.
If that were the case, wouldn’t he have brought it to him personally?

Why whisper about it through a maid?
And even lie about it being a trend in the capital?
That meant he knew about the neurotoxic reaction.

And that meant—
Was he the mastermind?
The one behind the faction that kills Duke Valkyrisen five years from now?

Poisoning his nervous system would have left him vulnerable—
And once he lost sensation, all they would need was a subtle method, leaving no trace.
The Duke already had a limp. If his nerves were damaged too, he’d be an even easier target.

Elodie had to find out.
She quickly checked her surroundings.
No one in sight.

Poof!
She transformed into a harvest mouse.
The underground prison should be this way…

***
The old man finally lifted his gaze from his documents, removing the spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose.
With a slow flick of his wrist, the screaming echoing through the dungeon came to an abrupt halt.

"Hahh… ahhh… Sir—please—please spare me!"
Earl Hamilton, momentarily freed from his agony, gasped for breath, barely able to form words.
"I-I’ve committed a grave sin… I beg you—spare me, and I will do anything you ask!"

He grovelled, pressing his forehead against the filthy stone floor.
But Eisen didn’t spare him a single glance.
When his pleading was met with silence, his desperation twisted into venomous hatred.

"You bastard… You ruin me at every turn! A cursed devil like you should rot in hell! May your entire bloodline be cursed!"
Eisen ignored the insults, treating them like background noise, and instead, addressed his aide.
"Well? What did you find?"

The man—a beastfolk with the sharp eyes of an eagle—bowed his head slightly.
"Sir, it is as the young mistress said. It was neurotoxin."