After that night, Primrose never got the chance to speak alone with Hazelle again. Silas often kept the young woman busy, asking her to prepare medicine in his private room.
But Primrose knew it was just an excuse.
He didn't need Hazelle's help to make medicine, he simply wanted more of her blood to create more poison.
So far, Silas hadn't slipped anything into Primrose's food. Maybe it was still too early ... or maybe he was quietly planning something else.
He knew about Salem, of course, but only on the surface. As far as Silas was concerned, Salem was just the queen's food taster, not someone with deep knowledge of poisons.
"It's been too long," Primrose whispered, resting her arms on the balcony railing, her eyes fixed on the palace gates.
Marielle, who had just poured tea into her cup, suddenly went pale. "Did I take too long to prepare the tea, Your Majesty?"
