How to Poison Your Husband [COMPLETE! Cozy Romantasy With A Dash Of Murder]

Step 4c: ...and he's being unfairly framed

"I have done as you decreed, my prince!"

"For God's sake, could you talk quieter?" Eirifold groaned. "My head's killing me."

A day had passed since Eirifold had asked Ivelle to spy on Princess Mariel. The last twenty-four hours hadn't done the prince any favors. He lay sprawled across the nearest chaise lounge, a damp cloth pressed against his forehead. His dark skin held greenish undertones, and his face was damp with sweat. He'd been too sick to meet with her in the garden today, so he had called her to meet in his private study.

Ivelle couldn't bring herself to care about his discomfort. She was sure it was nothing compared to the discomfort Eirifold's previous jester had experienced after his fall off the balcony. She sashayed across the room, beaming down at the prince with a savage smile.

"I am hurt," she declared. "I would've thought you'd be thrilled to see me. After all, don't you want to hear my news about Mariel? Riveting, thrilling, life-changing news from your one-and-only expert spy?"

Eirifold's eyes cracked open. They were even more bloodshot than before, a sure sign he was withdrawing from the mandragar. If he weren't such an awful person, Ivelle might have almost felt sorry for him.

"Okay," he rasped. "What did you find?"

Conspiratorially, Ivelle leaned closer, lowered her face until her mouth was beside the prince's ear. She hovered there a moment, drawing out the silence for dramatic effect.

"Mariel got a new dog yesterday."

Eirifold blinked up at her. "...A... dog?"

"Yes. He's a German shepherd puppy she adopted from the pound. He's adorable, and his name is Leopold."

"...I fail to see how this is life-changing."

She scoffed and crossed her arms. "Typical! Only a heartless bastard would fail to appreciate the news I've so painstakingly gathered. But I suppose I should expect someone who pushes people down staircases for fun to have no taste in animals."

He shot her a glare, then winced and closed his eyes. "Did you learn anything else spying on Mariel?"

"I sure did." Ivelle smirked. "She has a fantastic wardrobe, her hair is to die for, she's excellent at fencing, she has great taste in pastries, and she donated to a charity yesterday. She's basically a goddess in human form."

Unlike you, hung unspoken on the air.

Ivelle had not relied solely on Ash's report for the intel she was giving Prince Eirifold. Through pure luck, she'd happened to run into her crow on her way home from town after buying Eirifold's nasal spray. Together, they'd watched Mariel hit up a pastry shop and then a charity hospital, which the princess apparently frequented often to give donations. After that, she'd ducked into a martial arts dojo, then visited the pound, where she'd adopted the lucky pooch who now inhabited the royal chambers. In six hours of stalking, there had been nothing – absolutely nothing – that warranted suspicion.

Unless the lady was smuggling mandragar into the castle taped to her new pup's adorable belly.

Prince Eirifold scowled. He did not seem pleased with Ivelle's report on the princess. No doubt he'd been hoping she would dig up some incriminating dirt on Mariel that would land her in prison.

"Come closer," he said. "Closer - yes. I think I need to barf, and I might as well do so on your shoes to teach you a lesson, since you're clearly not taking your assignment seriously."

Ivelle leaped back in horror.

"Oh no you don't! I spent hours yesterday getting dog turds off my shoes. I am not letting a single drop of your vomit anywhere near my footwear."