Find the One Who Abandoned Me - Chapter 63

“What are you examining so carefully?”

Calliope’s voice rang out softly as she entered the apothecary without a sound. Former Count Armonte, startled, cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“I came to pay a visit to Elder Anastas. It’s been some time.”

“A close friend of my great-uncle, I presume?”

Her eyes shimmered as if touched by emotion. Her hands, clasped politely in front of her chest, made her look innocent—almost childlike.

“It’s been quite some time since he fell ill, yet no one came to check on him. I was worried. I’ve heard that he dedicated much of his life to managing the family’s affairs and fostering relationships with other noble houses.”

She dabbed the corner of her eye with a fingertip, as if to brush away a tear. Armonte shifted uncomfortably and coughed again, turning his gaze aside.

“They must have been busy. That’s all.”

“I’m sure you’re right.”

Though she answered sweetly, inwardly Calliope scoffed.
They all cut ties the moment there was nothing left to gain from him.

Still smiling gently, she observed Armonte’s expression and posture carefully.

So, there’s still something he wants from the old man, even now that Ditron’s lost all his influence.

That was how it looked to her. Her gaze dropped to the herb drawer the former Count had just opened—it held nothing unusual, just ordinary dried plants.

“What brought you to the apothecary?” she asked, still composed.

“I know a little about herbs, so I thought I’d take a look. The elder was never the healthiest, but to see his condition deteriorate this fast… it’s strange.”

“Ah…”

Calliope let out a soft, sympathetic sigh. Then, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret, she whispered, her tone tinted with sorrow:

“The last physician who visited… said my great-uncle only has about two years left. His health started to decline rapidly after that diagnosis.”

Armonte drew in a sharp breath.

“Two years, you say…”

His wrinkled face visibly tensed. Calliope’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Ah. So he’s got something riding on Ditron. Probably some vague promise. Verbal. Nothing binding.

“Maybe the shock was too much for him,” she continued gently. “In hindsight… perhaps we should’ve kept it from him.”

Armonte fell into thought. Despite her innocent appearance, something about this young lady unnerved him. He had known Ditron for years—he was well aware of how ruthless and calculating the man was.
And now, this girl standing before him was that woman’s daughter—the daughter of the Marquess’s discarded first wife, whom Ditron used to mock without end.

He turned back to the drawers and began inspecting another one. Something didn’t sit right with him. Even with a grim diagnosis, a body didn’t deteriorate this drastically in such a short time. Ditron had looked more like a breathing corpse than a living man.

All the while, Calliope watched calmly, tracking his every movement. His hand soon reached for a drawer she recognized—it was where she’d stored widi. Armonte opened it, frowned slightly, and asked:

“This herb… I don’t recognize it.”

A glint sparked in his eye.

Calliope barely resisted the urge to scoff. Instead, she reached into the drawer, lifted a neatly prepared widi leaf, and held it up for him to see.

“My great-uncle’s health has been so poor that I’ve been gathering every beneficial herb I can find. This one is a common plant, used mostly by commoners.”

She hesitated for a beat, as if embarrassed.

“Before I joined the family, I used to collect and eat this when I was sick. I thought it might help, so…”

Armonte immediately understood the implication and clicked his tongue.
Right—her mother was cast out, and they lived in poverty among commoners after that, didn’t they?

“This sort of thing wouldn’t be of much help.”

“Still, it brings me comfort. I use it myself sometimes. It reminds me of when I was young.”

Without hesitation, Calliope put the widi leaf in her mouth and chewed it calmly.

“I see…”

Whether he had lost interest or had simply decided it wasn’t dangerous, Armonte turned away and opened the next drawer. Inside was a large pile of freshly harvested Tulan—the herb she had carefully collected before it dried out.

“And this?”

“Tulan. It’s a regeneration herb that grows deep in the mountain valleys. It was difficult to get, but I acquired it for my great-uncle’s sake.”

“I see you’ve taken quite an interest in our apothecary.”

Former Count Armonte cleared his throat awkwardly at the sound of Calliope’s sudden voice behind him. She had entered the room so quietly, it was as if she had appeared out of thin air.

“I came to visit Elder Anastas. It’s been a while.”

“Oh, then you must be a close friend of my great-uncle.”

Calliope’s eyes sparkled as if she were deeply touched. Her hands were clasped sweetly over her chest, the picture of innocent sincerity.

“He’s been bedridden for so long, and not a single visitor has come to check on him. I was getting worried. I’ve heard that he once worked tirelessly to manage our family’s business and build relationships with other noble houses.”

As if overcome with emotion, she dabbed the corner of her eye with a finger. Armonte shifted his gaze away again and cleared his throat.

“They must simply be busy.”

“Of course.”

She replied gently, though inside, she scoffed.

They’ve all abandoned him now that there’s nothing left to take.

Still smiling sweetly, she watched his face, studying every flicker of expression.

So… there’s still something you want from him, isn’t there? Even now, when he’s lost all influence.

That was how it looked. She glanced down at the drawer he had just opened—it contained only common herbs.

“What brings you to the apothecary?”

“I have some knowledge of herbs,” he said, closing the drawer with a slight frown. “I thought I’d check. The elder has never been in great health, but for it to deteriorate so suddenly is… strange.”

“Ah…”

Calliope let out a soft, regretful sigh, lowering her voice as though confiding something private.

“The last physician who visited… said my great-uncle has less than two years left. His health began to decline rapidly after that.”

Armonte inhaled sharply.

“Two years…?”

He looked anxious. Calliope’s eyes sharpened.

So, you did have something promised. A verbal agreement, I assume—nothing official. Otherwise, you wouldn’t look like that.

“Maybe it was the shock,” she added gently. “If I’d known, I would’ve kept it from him.”

The former Count frowned in thought. There was something unsettling about this girl. She looked so sweet and innocent, but something was off. He knew exactly the kind of man Ditron was. And he also knew this girl was the illegitimate daughter of the Marquess’s former wife—the one Ditron used to speak so bitterly of.

He turned back to the drawers and continued checking. Still, something didn’t sit right with him. No matter the diagnosis, a body didn’t fall apart that fast.

Soon, his hand moved to another drawer—one Calliope instantly recognized. Inside was widi, a common herb. He frowned.

“I don’t recognize this one.”

A strange glint flickered in his eyes.

Calliope barely suppressed a laugh. She reached inside and picked up a clean, dried widi leaf.

“My great-uncle’s health has been poor, so I gathered every herb that might help. This one’s commonly used by peasants.”

She paused as if a little embarrassed.

“Before I joined the family, I used to eat it when I got sick. I thought… maybe it would help.”

Armonte immediately understood the implication. He clicked his tongue.

Right. She and her mother lived like peasants after being cast out.

“This sort of thing won’t be any use.”

“Still, it brings me peace. I even use it from time to time. It reminds me of when I was a child.”

Without hesitation, Calliope popped the leaf into her mouth and calmly chewed.

“I see…”

Apparently satisfied that it wasn’t suspicious, Armonte moved on to the next drawer—this one full of Tulan, still fresh and not yet dried.

“And this?”

“Tulan. It’s a regenerative herb that grows deep in mountain valleys. It was hard to get, but I managed to for my great-uncle’s sake.”

“I know Tulan. A good herb, though not commonly used due to how difficult it is to acquire.”

He frowned again but eventually closed the drawer.

Lontz—which was usually brewed like tea—was safely stored in the kitchen, not the apothecary. Armonte wouldn’t find it here. He had no way of identifying widi, and the side effects of combining Lontz, Tulan, and widi were unknown to the world. Still, he seemed to know a fair bit about herbs, so caution was never a bad idea.

He continued opening drawers until he’d inspected every last one, reluctantly conceding there was nothing dangerous inside. Yet he still seemed tense.

Standing patiently nearby, Calliope finally spoke.

“If you’ve finished looking, perhaps it’s time to take your leave?”

She glanced toward the clock on the wall. It was nearly time to administer Ditron’s next dose of medicine—but this stubborn man shook his head.

“I’d like to see Elder Anastas once more before I go.”

Calliope’s lips twitched into a hidden smirk. At the door, Deyloren visibly tensed. They needed to medicate Ditron before the effects of the last dose wore off.

“If it’s only for a moment, it should be fine,” she said sweetly. “But since my great-uncle is unwell, it will have to be brief.”

He nodded.

“Just a moment.”

Calliope glanced again at the ticking clock. Too late. The dosage was already overdue.

She watched the old man leave the apothecary, then signaled Deyloren with a subtle look. The sharp-eyed servant immediately moved to open a drawer. Before she left the room, Calliope gave a quiet order.

“Prepare the medicine for Ditron. I’ll send him away shortly.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Armonte returned to Ditron’s room. Seeing him up close for the first time in years, even he had to admit—Ditron looked like a corpse. He could barely eat, barely move. He lived in constant pain, his eyes bloodshot to the whites, his limbs shriveled and stiff like dried logs.

“Elder Anastas… to end up in such a state… I heard your illness was severe, but this…”

Even as he fumbled through his overdramatic sympathy, Ditron’s bloodshot eyes remained locked on Calliope. She smiled at him, subtly and sweetly—just for him.

“He doesn’t like to be stared at for long. He was always a proud man… he wouldn’t want to look weak in front of someone close to him.”

She stepped forward and gently took Armonte’s arm, leaning in.

“I don’t know what sort of promise he made you,” she whispered, “but if it’s something I can help with, why don’t you speak to me about it?”

A flicker crossed Armonte’s eyes.

In truth, he had made a verbal agreement with Ditron—one involving a mining investment. The site was large, and if too many knew about it, there was a risk he could lose it. So he’d kept it quiet… until now.

“Well then, shall we step outside?”

He hesitated, calculating.

Ditron was just a dying, powerless old man now. But Calliope—daughter of the Marquess’s former wife—was in a stronger position. The Marquis’s household often supported their children’s ventures. Switching allegiance now made sense.

“…Very well.”

Armonte stood up at last.

“You’re right. It’s not proper for me to linger like this. I’ll take my leave.”

“Yes, and if we’re to discuss anything further, it would be best to set a proper time. I have a full schedule today.”

Calliope smiled as she escorted him from the room. She didn’t notice Ditron’s fingers twitch ever so slightly behind her—just past the time his medicine was due.

Outside, she spotted Deyloren returning from the stairwell with the prepared medication. She smoothly guided Armonte down the opposite staircase.

“I should have some time next week. What day would be best for you?”

“Ha! I’ve already passed on my title. I don’t have much to do these days.”

“Then would it be alright if I send a letter with a time that works for me?”

“Of course. Though… I must ask—please don’t delay too long. After next week, I’ll be quite busy again.”

It was a polite plea… and a subtle form of pressure.

Not that she minded. In fact, she had been planning to contact him anyway. She was interested in the mine.

So, it was the former Count who found it first… a bit inconvenient, she thought—but kept smiling regardless.

As they descended the stairs, Calliope paused and looked out the window. The weather was still beautiful.

“The sunshine’s nice. I suppose that’s why I’m still in a decent mood.”

That mood nearly soured because of you, she thought—but Armonte, oblivious, chuckled and nodded.

She gazed outside at the lush green trees—Clang! —and met someone’s eyes.

Blood-red eyes. A body dry and wasted, his thin robes fluttering in the wind.

In that fleeting second— Yes.
It was Ditron, throwing himself out the window.

Thud!

“Aaahhh!”

A scream rang out. She couldn’t tell if it came from Deyloren or one of the servants below.

Calliope stared out the window for a beat, her expression more tired and irritated than shocked then, only then, turned around with a look of alarm.

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