When Westalia and Leonardo arrived at the apothecary, they found David watering a withered tree. Besides the herbs he grew for his medicines, he kept many other plants for his research. The withered tree stood out among all the other well-cared for residents of his garden.
“Is there really a point to watering a dead tree?” Westalia asked. Daniel turned toward them. He was an avid gardener, so he of all people should’ve known that dead trees couldn’t come back to life.
“Corda— Westalia! It’s fine, I know it won’t come back to life. I’m just keeping my promise to my daughter,” Daniel said.
Westalia had already told Daniel her true identity. He’d been surprised at first, but his friendly demeanor toward her hadn’t changed.
The tree he was watering was a peach tree, grown from a seed Daniel’s daughter had planted a long time ago. It had never borne fruit, but he had continued upholding his promise to look after the tree.
“Even if it looks dead, if there’s a bit of it left alive it may still produce new shoots,” Leonardo said. “The key to everything is patience.”
The tree looked beyond help to Westalia, but Leonardo’s words seemed to reflect Daniel’s sentiments.
“That’s right. I bet this tree is just resting. I’m sure it will bear sweet fruit when it wakes back up again,” Westalia agreed. Even if the tree was completely dead, she wanted to believe that it would one day show its lush greenery once more, and perhaps she, too, would be happier if she held on to that hope.
“I hope so,” Daniel said, looking near to tears. His water jug was just about empty, so they all headed into the apothecary.
“This dye shouldn’t be on the market,” Daniel said, coming out from the back rooms of the shop with a concerned look on his face.
Westalia had given him Elizabeth’s urine and a scrap of cloth dyed with Elizabeth Pink ahead of time and asked him to analyze them both. Westalia remained calm despite the rare grave expression on the face of a man who was usually so carefree.
“So, Elizabeth Pink is a poison after all?” Westalia asked.
“Yes. The urine of the woman who you said wears a lot of Elizabeth Pink dresses contained a dangerous amount of poison,” Daniel said, placing the written analysis down on the counter. The toxin in the Elizabeth Pink dye was absorbed into the body primarily through the skin, leading to a variety of symptoms. The symptoms Westalia had observed in Elizabeth included nausea, abdominal pain, a rash, and convulsions.
The Rias Corporation sold their Elizabeth Pink dye on an exclusive basis and hadn’t revealed the process to any other company. The company mainly dealt in dresses for aristocrats and because of the dye’s luxury status the general public couldn’t easily afford it, meaning they could only purchase accessories made with the color.
Some of the young ladies who wore Elizabeth Pink occasionally suffered from unexplained health problems, but nobody even thought to consider that it was a symptom of poisoning, and the size of the market had gradually expanded without anyone noticing those adverse effects. If the Rias Corporation believed that a trace amount of poison would go undetected, then things were going exactly as they had planned. Elizabeth Pink was now their largest venture and a vital source of revenue for the Reyn family.
“What on earth are they using to make the dye?” Leonardo wondered out loud, hand resting on his chin. The whole process was veiled in secrecy.
“I think Westalia already has that answer,” Daniel said, holding the scrap of cloth in his gloved hand.
“She does?” Leonardo asked, looking over at Westalia.
Without saying a word, Westalia produced a piece of cloth, dyed the vivid Elizabeth Pink, from her pocket.
“And that is?” Leonardo asked.
“The Elizabeth Pink that I made. It’s a good reproduction, isn’t it?”
The vibrancy produced by the Rias Corporation’s secret technique was said to be impossible to reproduce, and for good reason.
“No one should be able to reproduce it,” Westalia said, a sneer playing across her lips. “Because this color is made from a poisonous flower.”
Westalia had suddenly remembered what Elizabeth had said at the party—that Elizabeth Pink couldn’t be created merely by mixing red and white dyes together. To make the vivid pink, another color was required—orange. And orange dye immediately brought a specific flower to Westalia’s mind.
“A poisonous flower?” Leonardo asked.
“It’s the flower of the agisakuragi,” Westalia replied, smiling elegantly. Agisakuragi was a tall, evergreen tree found in the northern part of the continent, specifically in the Archaites Empire. Its seeds were known to be poisonous, and the oil extracted from them was often used for executions and assassinations. Westalia herself had once been executed by that exact same poison, and she’d never expected it to come back and haunt her again.
“The agisakuragi has beautiful orange flowers. Many vegetable dyes require a process called ‘mordanting’ to keep the color from fading, but the flowers of the agisakuragi don’t, and the color naturally comes out vibrant. Of course, the only thing being factored here is its potential as a plant-based dye. Because of its poisonous nature, it’s never actually used,” Westalia explained. She was exceptionally knowledgeable about poisons herself, so before passing Elizabeth’s urine on to Daniel, she had conducted her own experiments on it. That was how she’d managed to figure out the recipe for the dye. Thanks to their friendship, Daniel knew that Westalia was able to do that level of analysis herself. He pulled out a glass vial of dried agisakuragi flowers and placed it on the counter.