Enact your plan.

Along with your small retinue of servants, and slightly larger cadre of guards, you move through the villa to the chambers the Dauphin and his stepmother have so kindly provided to you. Entering, you ask for a little privacy as you rest in your bedchamber.

...Of course, rest is the last thing you have on your mind. You upend one of your valises, shoving aside various doublets and tunics, until you find the small leather bag you were looking for.

Taking a moment to bar the door with the chair by the desk, you carefully empty out the contents, and set about your unsavoury business.

You combine the alchemical ingredients you had Sarah purchase for you back in the capital, sprinkling the Moissan saffron into a silver cup, adding a little of the Deanian oyster extract, then introducing water to the mixture, dipping a finger in and tasting it every so often.

Of course, the bizarre concoction is perfectly harmless to virtually any human who might ingest it. Your true endeavour is to dilute it, just enough for the flavour to go unnoticed, even as it retains its sinister potency.

Alchemy had never been your strong suit, but you been with a herbalist up in Tomich Sands and picked a few things up. It would have to suffice.

When you're more or less satisfied with your little serum, you pour it into a leather flask and stopper it up, setting it aside in one of the desk drawers.

Your secretive work done, for now at least, you sit on the edge of the bed, more opulent even than the one you'd been sleeping in in the capital, and try to collect your thoughts.

This had to be done. There were parts of it you found dishonourable, parts that would shame the good name of your mother's house, but it was all a necessary sacrifice. What you would do tomorrow would spare the entire continent much ugliness and ****.

-

Later, you take Sarah aside. The young woman is so obviously taken with the opulence of the Sinnabarrovian villa. Her eyes alight on every new sight and fixture.

"Is there anything I can do for you, King Bryce?" the golden-haired woman asks, as courteous and sincere as ever. You wish you didn't have to involve her in this.

"As a matter of fact, there is." you say, moving closer to the girl, quieting your voice. In an unfamiliar place such as this, eyes and ears could be found in the most unexpected of places. "There's something I need your help with, Sarah. Something... delicate."

"As ever, Your Majesty. I'm at your disposal." Sarah says with a smile. In response, you produce the miniscule leather bottle, containing the aqueous tincture you've just produced.

"I need you to take this. When I am with the Queen and the Prince tonight, I need you to discretely add a few drops to Queen Emmanuelle's wine." you whisper.

"Your... Majesty?" Sarah says. Whatever she expected, it surely wasn't this.

"There's no one else I can ask." you say. "I'll be watched too closely to administer it myself, but you... Your kind are used to going unseen by mine, aye?"

"Bryce, I can't... If I'm caught." Sarah protests. She's a good and innocent woman, you realise. Even a minor treachery like this one does not come easy to one like her.

"It will do the Queen no lasting harm. At worst, she'll be a little drowsy, need to lie down." you lie. "I need to speak to the Dauphin, alone. His stepmother is a formidable woman. With her side-lined, I'll be able to handle Garnier."

"King Bryce, please... If they catch me, they'll take my hand. Or worse" Sarah frets.

"Then don't get caught." you say, catching yourself as you realise the harshness of your words. "Sarah." you say, putting a firm hand on her shoulder. "Help me with this, and you can name your boon. I give you my word."

You see it in her eye. She's poor. And poverty will always trump idealism, principle. It's the case for all but the most determined of martyrs.

"I'll do it." Sarah concedes, accepting the bottle. "So long as the Queen comes to no harm. She's a good woman, you know."

Much like half the continent, you'd grown up hearing Emmanuelle's virtue, as well the Sinnabarrovian royal family's in general, extolled. But you had to admit, based off your first hand experience, Sarah was right.

"She'll be perfectly safe." You tell her. A half-truth, but at present, that's the best you can offer.

"So," Sarah begins, steeling herself for what is to come. "What happens next?"