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

Step 6a: Don't let yourself be swayed by his good qualities...

It was nothing like the kiss they had shared in the garden.

For one thing, Eirifold didn't immediately spring backward and wipe his lips as though she was carrying some sort of contagious disease.

Instead, he leaned closer.

His hands came to rest on her waist, tugging her toward him. He kissed her with a hunger that surprised her, pushing her backward, pressing her up against the wall of the townhouse.

Shock coursed through her, hot like lightning. She had the sudden, bewildering realization that this was nothing like the kisses she'd had with Lord Saffron, and she was very much out of her depth. It was like thinking you were stepping into a light drizzle, only to realize you were trapped in a maelstrom. Except, instead of water, fire was consuming her, burning her from the inside out.

She should back away, Ivelle knew. Stop this tomfoolery now, before it got out of control, before it consumed them both. Instead, her hands laced through Eirifold's hair, and her lips smiled and parted against his. His fingers traced circles on her skin, lightly, almost reverently, as though afraid at any moment she might vanish into thin air. It was somehow worse than if he had clasped her tightly. She shivered under his touch, knowing she should pull away, but unable to. She could feel the warmth radiating from his body through the thin fabric that separated them.

The watchmen clattered past them – or at least, Ivelle thought they did. They could have waltzed by wearing dog suits for all she would have noticed. Heat pooled in her belly as Eirifold began kissing a trail, first across her chin, then down her neck...

"Ah-HEM," said a nearby voice.

Ivelle flinched and tore herself away.

Her heart sank.

Before them stood Princess Mariel, looking about as unamused as it was possible to be.

"Let me guess." Mariel's fingers skimmed her sword hilt. Her eyes fixed on Eirifold, piercing him with a steely glare. "You thought having your lips glued to the court jester's face would prevent me from recognizing you."

Her eyes shifted disapprovingly to Ivelle, whose insides squirmed with shame. If Lillian found out about her kissing Prince Eirifold–

She was done for.

Eirifold, who looked more in disarray than Ivelle had ever seen him, still managed to flash the princess a disarming, if not slightly irritated, smile. "It was worth a try..."

Mariel bristled. "Do you truly think so little of my intelligence?"

"I happen to think you're very smart." Eirifold's face darkened, his expression bordering on a scowl. "Far too smart, actually. With too many clever machinations for my liking. What brings you to this part of town, in such an un-princesslike disguise, making deals with wood fae? Deals that involve very suspicious and alarmingly potion-shaped packages?"

"That is none of your concern."

"I think it is my concern, when certain parties have been slipping poison into my nasal spray!"

"Always the paranoid prince." Mariel seemed to relax slightly, although Ivelle couldn't help but notice that her stance was still tense, as though braced for battle. She snorted and raised her eyes to the heavens. "Truly, Eirifold, I'm glad to see you've laid off the alcohol and the drugs in advance of your wedding. Though perhaps you should consider abstaining from certain other activities as well." Her eyes raked disapprovingly over Ivelle. "I doubt your future wife would approve."

I am so fucking screwed, Ivelle thought dismally.

"I don't really care what you do in your spare time." Mariel folded her arms. "I do, however, care about my reputation, and my wandering about the city not getting back to Mother or Father. Promise you'll tell no one you saw me. In exchange, I'll pretend I didn't see you. I'll tell no one about your trip to the city, not even your mother. Do we have a deal?"