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

Step 7a: Don't trust him to tell you the truth...

The blood drained from Ivelle's face.

She stared down at the incriminating flier that lay in Eirifold's lap and swallowed down the curl of nausea that was creeping through her gut.

"How did you get this?" Her voice was a croak.

"Furlock... I suppose I should call him Saffron if that's his real name... brought it to me. He also spent an afternoon using sticks to spell out the words 'IVELLE IS EVIL' on my carpet. I had an inkling, when I saw his message, that he might not be a normal dog.

"Your flier doesn't have your name on it, but it has your address. I asked one of the stewards to pull up some property records, and lo and behold, the name Ivelle Delaville was attached to that shop. It seemed too much of a coincidence to just let it slide."

Eirifold shot Ivelle a chilly scowl. "I have to say, this looks awfully suspicious. An incriminating flier gets sent from your address, and then you turn up in the palace, in my room, right around the same time I discover I'm being poisoned by mandragar. And now you admit to doing away with your husband in a most peculiar manner."

Ivelle stared at the ground, feeling sick. Sick at the way Eirifold's eyes hardened as they appraised her, sick at the thought that Lillian might be implicated in this scheme, but most of all, sick because he had just played her. He'd been toying with her, pretending not to know about this ever since the moment he'd knocked on her bedroom door.

Her mother's words replayed in her head. 

You cannot trust a man... and especially not a noble. They will spin you sweet tales, they will say exactly what you want to hear... they will fill your head with pretty little lies...

"If you already knew all this," she said, trying to suppress her growing rage, "why did pretend everything was okay, instead of confronting me about this directly? Was it fun for you"–her voice shook–"dicking around for the last half hour, deceiving me, pretending as though you still wanted to be my friend?"

"It's called sleuthing-–"

She barked a laugh. "Clearly you've already concluded that I'm guilty, and you've already decided how you want to handle me, just like Lord Saffron did!"

Ivelle blinked a few times and then shook her head. Dammit, she wasn't going to cry – she wasn't – Aw hell...

She swiped a hand across her stinging eyes.

"I don't know if this is an act or if I should believe you right now." Eirifold threw his hands up in exasperation. "I don't know anything anymore. The reason I'm bringing this up is to hear your explanation so I can decide if you're trustworthy. Also, it's rather hypocritical of you to accuse me of hiding things, when you've been hiding your true purpose in the palace this whole time!"

That stung, because she knew he was right. She was only reacting like this because of the way Eirifold had abruptly turned the tables on her. It had felt like Saffron's betrayal all over again.

But Eirifold wasn't Saffron. He looked genuinely anguished, an expression she could not remember ever seeing on Saffron's proud face. And she had been hiding her true purpose in the palace, and his potential danger, from him this whole time.

"Sorry. I..." She licked dry lips. "Trust issues. I guess you're not the only one who's got them... thanks to all the fucking assholes in our lives."

She shot a pointed glare at the dog crate.

"It's true that I started the business on the flier," she said. "I was desperate for money, and I thought all royals were trash like Lord Saffron. What downside was there to ridding the world of one more?