Step 5a: Hit the gym...

Ivelle had a new agenda.

She dubbed it Operation: turn Eirifold into a nice, sober, hot prince worthy of Lillian's love, one who the lady would not need to poison.

Operation: hot prince for short.

They were on a tight timeline.

Only three weeks remained until the wedding.

Three short weeks to reinvent Prince Eirifold's image and turn him into the man of Lillian's dreams.

The shocking part was, Eirifold seemed inclined to go along with Ivelle's midnight exercise routine. Jogging, however, was the limit of his capabilities. He stared at her piteously when she announced they were doing push-ups, and after the fourth one, he flopped face first to the ground and lay there like a dead fish until Ivelle was forced to prod him with her toe.

"You'll never get buff with that attitude."

"Mrhfjdkdnf."

Ivelle lowered her face to the level of his head, still planted in the dirt on the edge of the practice courts. "What was that?"

He lifted his head up and glowered. "I said, I don't understand this obsession with turning me buff."

"Exercise is good for your body and mind. You're getting married in three weeks. You should show Lillian your best self."

"Lillian won't care what side I show her." He waved a pathetic hand. "She'll still hate me, regardless of my appearance or mental aptitude."

"You never know until you try." Ivelle scowled. "If you won't do it for your new wife, at least do it for yourself."

She had thought Eirifold might ignore her, but to her surprise, he stumbled to his feet with an aggrieved sigh. "How are you so strong, anyway?"

Ivelle shrugged and flexed her shoulders, not really wanting to go into her failed carpentry business. "Thieves have to be strong. How do you think I make quick escapes? Now, get back to push-ups. I want to see you do at least twenty before we call it a night."

"Are you trying to kill me?"

It was nearly dawn when Ivelle finally finished putting Eirifold through his paces. By then, the prince was so noodly with exhaustion, she feared he might collapse on the way back to his rooms.

Ivelle was equally tired. She stumbled back to her room, almost tripping over the massive pile of dog turds that had materialized in her doorway once again. Resolving to deal with it in the morning, she skirted past it and unlocked the door.

She walked into the bedroom to the sight of Ash having a nightmare.

His small body whimpered and twitched from his perch at the foot of the bed. "No," he muttered. "No, no..."

"Ash?" Ivelle called. "Ash!"

She touched his head. This was a mistake. Ash flinched and recoiled, and his beak narrowly missed gouging a chunk out of her arm. One of his talons connected with her hand, drawing a gash across her skin.

"Fuck!"

The shout roused Ash from his nightmare. His dark eyes blinked. "I–Ivelle?"

"I'm right here," she said. "Are you okay? You went all–" she made a movement that was vaguely reminiscent of a crow having a panic attack "–for a minute."

"Just a dream," he muttered.

She tore a strip of cloth off her tunic and wrapped it around her hand. "You wanna tell me about it?"

"No."

"'Kay then."

Ivelle threw herself onto the soft goose feather mattress. She probably should've been more bothered by Ash's reticence, but she was exhausted, and her quads and shoulders throbbed with pain. Eirifold wasn't the only one who was out of shape. Ivelle hadn't wanted to let her weakness show in front of the insufferable prince, but it had been several months since anyone had actually hired her for a carpentry job, and she wasn't the best at keeping up an exercise routine without the proper motivation.

Ivelle felt the weight of Ash's feet depress her pillow.

"Why are you awake right now, anyway?" he grumbled. "It's bloody three in the morning."

"Don't worry about it." Ivelle yawned.

"Last time you told me not to worry, you came back to your room with your hand nearly bitten off, so forgive me if I'm still quite worried."

"I was working out."

"Is that what they're calling it these days?"

Ivelle batted at Ash with her pillow. "It was perfectly innocent," she said acidly. "I told you earlier, if I can get Lillian and Eirifold to fall in love, I won't need to be an accessory to murder. In order for that to succeed, I need to completely remake the prince's image. Starting with giving him visible abs."

Ash snorted. "Good luck with that."

"You just focus on watching Mariel." Ivelle stifled another yawn. "Leave Eirifold and Lillian to me."

~*~

A few hours later, Ivelle was already regretting her decision to become Eirifold's personal trainer. Apparently, Lillian was one of those baffling humans who actually functioned before ten in the morning. To Ivelle's dismay, the lady summoned Ivelle to her rooms shortly after eight o'clock. Ivelle, grumbling heartily, heaved her sore body past a snoozing Ash and stumbled to the lady's chambers.

She arrived to find Lillian labeling potions.

"Ivelle!" The lady beamed. "I needed to take my mind off a party last night, so I started organizing your potions. You're not mad, are you?" she added worriedly. "It just... kind of seemed like a hazard to leave them unlabeled, especially since the healing potion is almost the same shade of green as one of the poisons..."

Blearily, Ivelle scrutinized Lillian's handiwork.

"Um," she said. "Hate to be a downer but you've confused the Sleeping Beauty potion with the Doggify potion, and the Firebreathing potion with the iverdrought."

"Remind me of the difference?"

"The Sleeping Beauty poison paralyzes the drinker for hours, making them look and act like they're dead. My mum used to feed it to me sometimes when I was annoying her. The Doggify potion turns your target into the dog they most closely resemble. The Firebreathing potion lets you breathe fire, and iverdrought is the poison that kills you after a few hours."

"Oh my." Lillian covered her mouth. "That last two would have been rather bad to confuse."

"No kidding," said Ivelle. "It's never good when you're trying to poison someone and you accidentally turn them into a fire-breathing menace instead."

Lillian's lips quirked in a smile, which quickly slid off her face. Her hands twisted in her lap.

"You seem nervous. What's up?" Ivelle's brows furrowed. "Does it have something to do with that party you said you were trying to take your mind off of yesterday?"

"Sort of..." Lillian stared at her lap. "It was one of the ladies' socials. The other ladies said some... unkind things, and... well... now I can't stop thinking about the wedding." Lillian swallowed audibly. "It's only three weeks away."

"What did the other ladies say?"

"Oh, the usual. A lady from Castrena doesn't deserve to be queen... I'm not a true princess... when Eirifold gets tired of me, he'll probably push me out the window."

"They said that?!"

"It was implied."

"Those bastards!" All traces of exhaustion fading, Ivelle smacked her palm with her fist indignantly. "That's beyond cruel!"

"It's best to just ignore the things they say. Usually I do." Lillian fiddled with the gems on her dress. "But the comment about being pushed out of windows got me thinking about life after the wedding. How in three weeks I'll have to move into the royal quarters with the rest of the royal family..."

She shuddered.

"I don't want to poison Eirifold too early," she continued, a slight tremor in her voice. "If I poison him before the wedding, the king and queen of Estrella might force me to marry someone else. It's better to wait until I've been married for a little while to poison him."

Ivelle tried to suppress her relief. She wasn't sure what she would've done if Lillian had wanted to poison Eirifold straightaway.

"But..." Lillian's voice cracked slightly. "I'm also scared. That something might go wrong. I've never poisoned anyone, you know. And I'm terrified about the wedding night. Terrified he'll..."

Her voice trailed off.

Something about the hunched set to Lillian's shoulders told Ivelle there was more that the lady wasn't letting on. Had she been hurt physically in the past?

Or was it simply that she didn't trust anyone from the royal family? After all, they had most likely killed her parents and brother.

Ivelle felt a flash of anger on the lady's behalf. One thing was for sure: now was not the time to be trying to defend Eirifold in front of Lillian. She didn't know what had happened in Lillian's past, but it seemed like whatever it was had deeply traumatized her.

Ivelle laid a hand on top of Lillian's.

"Nobody is going to hurt you," she said soothingly. "I'll make sure of that. How about this? In addition to the art of poison, I can teach you some self-defense tricks to make you feel safer."

"Thanks, Ivelle." Lillian shot her a quavering smile. "I don't know what I would do without you. You've been a true friend to me since you came here, and I won't forget it."

~*~

Words: 21,369

I had to split this chapter in half because it was getting too long. Hoping to get Part 2 out later this weekend. Also, sorry for the long delay in posting this chapter. Lots of real life stuff happened all at once, and I'm honestly pretty exhausted. On the plus side though, How To Poison Your Husband was an Ambassador's choice story for ONC round 1!