The Brothel Maiden: A Sold Girl's Rise to Prominence Through Reasoning Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Josée stood frozen for a mont, the galette tin clutched in her hands. Then—slam! The front door burst open, making her jump in alarm.

Out the gate galloped a horse at breakneck speed—the coachman had clearly dispatched it in haste. Watching its silhouette vanish down the road, Josée sensed sothing was seriously wrong at this estate.

She stepped through the front entrance, the manor’s dark interior yawning open like a mouth waiting to swallow her whole. The lack of security was unsettling. From deeper within, she could faintly hear the clamor of won’s voices.

Just then, a servant bustled past carrying a burlap sack. Josée quickly intercepted them.

"Excuse ," she said. "I'm Josée. I ca to return sothing Michelle left behind. Do you know where she is?"

The servant's eyes darted around nervously before answering in a hushed voice.

"You shouldn't go to Michelle-sama right now."

"Oh? And why not?"

The servant lifted the sack slightly.

"One of the guests collapsed after eating. We think it might've been this confection, so I was about to dispose of it."

Josée’s eyes widened. She reached out and stopped the servant.

"No—you can't! This is evidence. It has to stay exactly as it was! Have you called the police?"

The servant blinked, as if snapping out of a daze.

"Y-yes… The coachman went to summon a doctor and the authorities just a short while ago."

"Good. In that case, don’t throw anything away. Take to the scene. And absolutely no cleaning or discarding anything—understood?"

"Y-yes, of course."

Josée followed the servant toward the guest room where the tea party had been held.

Inside, the atmosphere was chaotic. So won were crying, others pale and silent, still more frozen in place. In the center of the room, a woman in a now-soaked blue dress lay sprawled on the floor. Several butlers surrounded her, frantically attempting to administer aid. It looked like they’d tried to make her drink water to flush out whatever she’d consud—a reasonable move if poisoning was suspected and she wasn’t in imdiate danger of choking.

"...Michelle?"

At the sound of her voice, Michelle, who had been standing stiffly in the corner, looked up.

"Ah—Josée!"

"I brought the galette tin you forgot. Though… it seems like sothing far more serious is going on."

Michelle said nothing. Her gaze remained fixed on the woman in the blue dress.

"...She’s probably… dead, right?"

Josée didn’t answer. A careless word could send the room spiraling into panic.

"Michelle, are you alright?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah. I didn’t eat much… and I don’t feel anything wrong yet."

"I see..."

"But it's scary. If it really was poison, the symptoms could kick in later, right?"

Josée surveyed the room.

The guests, dressed in lavish outfits, filled the parlor. Among them stood Barbara—the middle-aged woman in white. Josée recognized her from a previous introduction at Baron Aubry’s estate.

Barbara noticed her and quickly approached.

"Mada Josée! It’s been ages. But what brings you here today...?"

"Good afternoon, madam. I just ca to return sothing Michelle left behind, but… it looks like I walked into a crisis?"

"Indeed. Debora-sama suddenly collapsed. Whether it’s an illness or… sothing else..."

Barbara trailed off, her voice faltering. The other guests, having eaten the sa food, were doing their best to keep calm—but barely.

Then, red blotches began appearing on Debora’s skin.

Josée’s heart sank. She'd seen those symptoms before—in a relative who had been poisoned.

At last, the doctor arrived.

He knelt beside Debora, checking her pulse, her pupils, and the rash spreading across her body. After a tense silence, he stood up and solemnly announced:

"...I'm afraid she’s passed away."

A ripple of gasps and muffled screams spread through the room.

The doctor continued in a grave tone.

"These symptoms are consistent with poisoning. Contact the police imdiately. I’ll examine the rest of you now. If anyone feels unwell, please step forward."

He conducted brief examinations of the four other guests, but found no imdiate signs of illness.

Still, Josée knew better than to relax.

The effects of poison vary drastically between individuals. Factors like ethnicity, diet, body size, and overall health can all influence resistance. What proves fatal to one person might barely affect another.

But right now, that wasn’t the most pressing concern.

"Who poisoned her?!"

It was Berenice—the woman who had brought homade cookies—who finally gave voice to the fear gripping everyone.

"It must’ve been the tea! Cassandre’s tea!"

Cassandre, now under suspicion, fired back through tears.

"Your cookies are far more suspicious! They’re the easiest thing to tamper with!"

Cornered, Berenice pointed accusingly at Claude.

"And what about you?! Acting all innocent—you could’ve poisoned the plates you brought!"

Claude scowled.

"Don’t be ridiculous. The servants washed them before use."

Then she added sharply:

"The most suspicious person here is Barbara-sama. Why invite won she despises? She had the perfect opportunity!"

Barbara t her glare silently, her expression unreadable.

The air crackled with tension as the four won exchanged sharp words and sharper glances.

anwhile, Michelle—who hadn’t brought anything—stood quietly with Josée at the edge of the room, whispering.

"Guess it was a good thing I didn’t contribute anything..."

"Yeah, lucky you."

"But who would do this?"

Josée narrowed her eyes.

"Those symptoms… It’s arsenic."

Ti seed to freeze.

Michelle’s eyes went wide. "What?! H-how do you know that?!"

"I’ve seen arsenic poisoning before. It’s commonly found in rat poison. Easy to obtain. The red spots give it away."

"Yikes..."

"Even a small amount is deadly. It’s easy to conceal in food, and the culprit may still have so on them."

Josée’s eyes scanned the group of won.

"Red dress, pink dress, green dress, white dress… Cookies, tea, dishes…"

Then she glanced up at the ceiling, as if the answer might be written there. Dressed in her stark black gown, she murmured to herself:

"I… might’ve figured out who did it."