章 31: Words Like Poison

Myra shakes her head, adamant to hold her ground.

"I hope you understand that I've already been warned not to touch many things. I'd rather not," she turns down as politely as she can phrase it but the ticked off expression that washes over the blonde's face is almost appalling. She quickly conceals this emotion with a pout, one that looks more innocent.

Understanding that rejecting such an offer and doubting her credibility so early could potentially harm their relationship permanently, Myra knows it would be bad if she were to not touch it.

But she knows—she's been aware of this fact for a while now, how emotionally manipulative Ariana should be when it comes to getting things done.

She inhales sharply and closes her eyes briefly. <i>I hope she knows she'll never outsmart me. </i>

From the fluorescent pink colour of the flower's petals, it would be easy to tell that it's dangerous, practically a warning sign in all ways.

Knowing this fact, Myra prays that implicating herself will earn her an advantage and reaches a hand forward, brushing her hand against the petals of the flower.

An overly-sweet stench is released into the air and Ariana doesn't cover her nose, a telling sign that the pollen isn't harmful.

Myra pulls her hand away after a single brush and feels her palm burn. A sticky purple residue remains where her hand touched the surface of the petal.

"I'm quite well-versed with poisonous plants because I've been studying this subject since I was a little girl. Did you know, when you're in contact with strong neurotoxins from plants, the blood around your wrist will clot and your skin will turn blue," Ariana blabbers as she pulls back from the plant as well, never touching it.

Myra nods, coughing lightly as she feels her chest closing up on her and her vision growing hazy. She ignores it as a brief daze.

"Is there anyone you're interested in?" Ariana asks out of curiosity.

"Excuse me?" Myra narrows her eyes, trying to decipher the motive behind the unexpected question.

This isn't normally an exchange which occurs between two girls who are barely friends, and frankly, Myra has never given much thought to potential love interests.

It doesn't mean she's stupid or oblivious—she knows who likes her and who doesn't, it only means she's never left herself any time to reciprocate these feelings. She's convinced, whoever it is she falls in love with in the future would purely be for convenience. W

ith the purpose she's been rebirthed into this life, there's little chance for her ever feeling anything real.

"We're the same age, there definitely has to be a man you're interested in! I've seen how Marquess Ares looks at you over lunch. Oh, unless you have a secret lover~" Ariana gossips, twirling around on the tips of her foot.

Myra feels her face heat up at the topic and the mention of her close friend yet again, almost forgetting how obvious he'd made his feelings.

Clearing her throat, she turns her head away in a futile attempt to hide her heated cheeks which only amplifies the clarity of her sheepishness at the topic. Myra shakes her head relentlessly but it doesn't seem to be convincing enough.

"Well, I've got one."

Myra turns back, still oddly flustered but somewhat comforted that the topic won't be brought up again.

At this moment, for some unknown reason, memories of the man she'd met last night during her drunken run around the city flashes over her mind.

Ariana folds her arms and continues to spin on the very tips of her toes rather than walk, somehow dodging each plant on the narrow path.

"I think I may be in love with the prince. I met him a day or two ago when he came to visit to check on my recovery. Lord, I must be blessed that my father has good relations with the royal family so I'll get to see him very often."

"Oh, the prince?" Myra chokes out uncomfortably as the pain on her palm intensifies, spreading up the length of her arm.

It's obvious how much discomfort she's trying to hide but Ariana, after a brief glance in her direction, ignores the telltale signs of her acquaintance's unwillingness to be trapped in this situation.

"If I have to be completely honest, I'm not very sure who the prince looks like. You see, I don't have many good friends because my father is strict about who I meet. I've never been told about people, or what they're like. It's pretty pitiful, isn't it?" Myra flashes an awkward grin.

Her story seems to tug at Ariana's heartstrings as she pauses, both hands clasped behind her back.

In seconds, her expression morphs from an almost teary one into one of obvious pity, a tight pout etched on her lips. She runs forward, wrapping her arms around Myra unexpectedly, but this time Myra's not surprised.

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that. You know, I'd love to have a friend like you. I know the daughters of the other families so I think it would be lovely if you agreed to meet them too," Ariana suggests as she pulls away. Her cheeks are dusted with a light peachy shade, framing her in an almost doll-like image.

Myra's lips curve into a forced smile. "Sure, let's be friends."

Ariana nods. "You're going to have to listen to me talk all day about my undying love for the prince, okay?! Do you think you can handle that?" she raises an eyebrow whilst wagging a finger in front of Myra, almost as if she's not convinced that Myra's worthy enough of listening to hour-long chatters about a man.

In all truth, even she wouldn't be too sure of herself but the events have given her an epiphany that simply can't be passed off on.

Ariana leads Myra out all the way to the front door of her house, where she insists on seeing off her new friend before going back in.

It's rather expected of her, seeing as though she's been so over-the-top about being friendly so Myra simply doesn't reject the offer, especially since she'll have to start learning how to deal with the Bougainvilleas' aristocratic behaviour.

When the door to the carriage finally closes, Myra finally lets out a deep breath. She grimaces as she pulls off her glove and watches parts of her skin swell and break into excruciating blisters. Her gaze falls to her wrist, where she sees her skin turn a sickening shade of blue.

Jalen's eyes widen as she looks at his sister's injury, a look he hasn't worn before.

"Did you touch something poisonous?!"