Ivy giggled, nudging Micah playfully with her arm. "Look at you! A future knight-to-be indeed!"

Micah grinned like an idiot, twirling his broom once more before planting it on the ground. "I was observing Prince Magnus the other day, and I've been practicing these moves on repeat. I think I'm getting the hang of it."

"It certainly seems like it! It's only a matter of time before Sir Orenn takes notice."

"Oh, gee, I hope so."

Sophie rolled her eyes, snapping the clean sheets off the drying line with unnecessary force. "Don't give him false hope, Ivy."

Both of them glared at her. "Pay her no mind," Ivy said, still using her sweet, high pitched voice. "She just wants to make everyone miserable like her."

Sophie just shook her head and opted not to retort. Ivy tittered on, giving Micah empty compliments and little touches here and there, making his face flush red and his smile grow impossibly wide. When Sophie urged her to help out with the workload, Ivy would complain about a pain in her back or side, and Micah would jump to assist her, carrying her laundry basket or helping her fold the sheets and clothes.

Sophie sighed. She never thought she'd admit it, but she missed Mina. Her former partner's brutal honesty and bluntness would be a breath of fresh air against all of Ivy's pretty lies and flattery to every man they came across. Unfortunately, Sophie only ever saw Mina at the end of the day, right before going to sleep. Mina always came back late, and recently, she seemed to be lost in her own world, curling into bed without much more than a mumbled 'good night.'

Sophie would never say it out loud, but she couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. She had been working at the castle for nearly five years now, and the prince, as kind as he was, never noticed her the way he did with Mina. Now, with Ivy using her beauty and charm to get whatever she wanted, Sophie only felt worse about herself. Despite everything, she knew she would always be seen as the little scarface girl. She didn't want to be defined by that, but it was hard to separate herself from it when that's all anyone would ever talk about. Jia had told her to seek her purpose elsewhere, not in the validation of others, but she still didn't know what that could be.

She looked up when she heard Micah coming back, alone this time, but the smile had not gone from his face.

"You know, she only acts like that if she thinks she can get something from you."

Micah frowned, picking up a rake and heading over to the horses. "Maybe she just likes me. Ever consider that?"

Sophie shrugged, hoisting her laundry basket up and bracing it on her hip. "Ivy cares for no one but herself. Clearly, her flattery is working because she's managed to get you to do her work as well as your own."

Micah shook his head, not wanting to believe her. "I'm just being a gentleman." He gestured to her basket. "Want me to help you too?"

"I can handle myself."

Micah shrugged. "Then I don't understand what your problem is."

"It's not my problem. I'm just warning you against inevitable heartbreak."

"What makes you say it's inevitable?"

"Because I've seen it happen before."

"With her? Or from your own experience?"

Her eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Micah looked away. "Nothing."

Sophie didn't push it, choosing to walk away instead. "Poison takes many forms. You'd better not come crying to me when I turn out to be right."

"Believe me, I won't."

*~*~*~*

Mina stepped into the garden, the creak of the gate and patter of her footsteps on the stone path sounding too loud in her head. She gripped the glass vial so tightly, she feared it would shatter in her hands. She wouldn't have minded if it did; at least it would distract her from the persistent ache in her chest.

She stared up at the Virethorn, almost invisible in the darkness save for the silvery frost coating its leaves. The sun would rise soon which would put her plan into action. As she waited, her mind drifted to uncomfortable places. He said the poison would put someone in excruciating pain for an uncertain amount of time. She assumed that the higher the dose, the harsher the pain but the quicker the death. A quick death would be better right? So he didn't have to suffer?

Just the thought of it made her stomach turn, imagining him writhing in pain, trying to call to her and ask her for help while all she could do was stand back and watch until life drained from those deep blue eyes. She shivered but not from the cold.

At last, the first rays of light stretched out from the horizon like fingers reaching out to touch the earth. The Virethorn leaves caught the growing light, shimmering in all their vicious glory. Mina snapped to attention, uncorking the vial and holding it up to one of the leaves. She tried her best to keep her movements steady and precise despite the whirling storm in her mind and heart.

Soon, bits of frost began to melt and drip off, collecting in Mina's vial. She focused on the leaves furthest from the main vine, trying to avoid the other melting droplets, but a couple landed on her sleeve, making her wince and grit her teeth at the sting and burn on her skin.

She stayed there a while until the sun was completely up, and her little glass was more than half full. To a casual onlooker, it appeared to be a simple vial of water, but upon further inspection, one could see the slight shimmer of the liquid, indicating its true nature. Mina carefully corked the bottle before sliding it into one of her apron pockets. It felt heavy against her leg despite being so small. Pulling back her sleeve, she examined the purple marks now dotting her pale skin, hoping that was the extent of the damage. Casting one last look at the creeping vine, Mina hurried off to Magnus's room where he was surely waiting for her.

After sharing a quick breakfast together, he told her he had meetings to attend for most of the day in preparation for his birthday celebration next month. Publicly, they would be celebrating his 24th birthday even though he was actually two years younger. It was all part of the lie that he was actually the child of the queen. Mina wasn't sure she was supposed to know any of this, but she knew better than to go around sharing it. There was a reason why it had remained a secret for this long. 

She didn't complain of his absence, especially since she struggled to look him in the eye after what she had done that morning. There was nothing for her to clean or attend to, so she sat out on his balcony, trying to distract herself from the lingering weight of what she had to do. Realizing she still had that scrap of wood from the manger she repaired a while ago, she drew it out of her pocket and turned it over in her hand, gauging the weight and size. She could carve it if only she had the right tools. Or maybe she could make do with what she had.

Poking around his room that she had cleaned and organized countless times already, she gathered up every pointy object she could find as well as some paperweights she could pound like a mallet. Laying them all out on the floor, she got to work.

Magnus came back later that evening, tired and tense from a long day of meeting with various council members and sitting through tedious information dumps of things he already knew. He'd have to give a toast at his birthday dinner banquet, and his tutor wanted him to have a draft written and ready for edits by the end of the week. Apparently, some of the princesses of Kithage would be there too, which was a marvelous occasion for him to meet his future bride, Dario had said. A year ago, Magnus would have been excited at that prospect, but much had changed since then. There was only one girl on his mind now, and she was already here.

He found her crouched over a bucket of wood shavings with the most random assortment of tools scattered around her from a nail file to a letter opener to a steak knife. She hurriedly rose to her feet, trying to hide the mess and offering to run him a bath, but he just laughed and glanced over to see the beginnings of a carving enclosed in her dusty hands.

"I didn't know you carved."

"I—" she mumbled, still not meeting his eyes. "I did...I'm not so good anymore."

He tilted his head. "May I see?"

Running her thumb across the rough, uneven grain, she tentatively handed it over. He examined it closely, able to make out the vague shape of a rounded body, a small head, and a beak forming from the once unassuming block of wood.

"Mina, I love this. If you want, I could get you proper materials so that you could finish it."

Her eyes widened. "Oh, no no, it's alright. It's just a stupid little hobby and plus it roughs up my hands."

"Well, what's wrong with that?"

"Well...most men don't like that," she mumbled, remembering how Madame Hailen had always scolded her for ruining her hands.

A small frown came to his face and his voice softened. "Why does it matter what they think?"

She shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. "Because if they don't find me attractive, I'm gonna end up as an old maid. Which I guess wouldn't be the worst thing..."

He shook his head. "Don't say that. I think you're attractive whether or not your hands are rough."

A blush came to her face against her will, and a warm feeling built up inside, burning through the layers of ice that had slowly been encasing her heart the whole day. "I don't believe that."

"But you should. To be truthful, I think you're beautiful."

She was at a complete loss for words. That was the first time someone ever told her that. She never thought anyone would ever tell her that.

Magnus pulled off one of his gloves and offered his hand to her. After a moment of hesitation, she allowed herself to rest her hand on his. As she said, her hand was rather rough, covered in calluses and scars, but he loved that about her. It showed her strength and her resilience.

"I'll get you those carving tools so you can finish it properly. As crafty as your choice of materials are, I think you'd appreciate the real thing."

She finally looked up at him, his gaze kind and cheerful as always as he handed her carving back to her. "Thank you."

"Of course."

"How were your meetings?" she asked, setting aside her carving and dusting off her hands as best as she could before helping him take off his coat.

"Dull," he replied, taking off his other glove and placing it on a nearby table. "I wish they'd just let me decide how I wanted to spend my birthday."

"Well, what would you prefer?" she questioned, hanging up his coat.

He pondered that for a moment, settling down on a couch. "To go outside again with you. That would be nice."

She paused, glancing over at him. "We could try to sneak out again. You know, before you get too busy."

His face brightened. "I'd like that. I bet it'll be easier this time, since we've done it before."

She nodded but looked away, the poison in her pocket feeling heavy once again.