Leaves of Lace
Prompt: Poison
Requested by: Mark of the Asphodel
Written for: One Word Meme (kirakiraunmei [dot] livejournal [dot] com [slash] 2973 [dot] html; fill in the proper punctuation marks where the words in brackets are and remove the spaces as needed)
Beta'd by: the ever lovely Asherien
Author's Notes: And now I'm back in Archanea with a fic requested by Mark of the Asphodel. She wanted a fic about poison, so I went on Google and found all sorts of interesting poisonous plants, and so I chose one that befit an assassination attempt and wrote this fic. Also I'm not sure if it's Kuraine or Kleine or something else, so I just chose the first one and left it at that.
Warnings: Spoilers for FE12.
She had to make this look like an accident.
They'll pin it on the poor boy who brewed the tea, she murmured, as she carefully walked up the stairs to the floor where the parlour room was, tea tray in hand. He doesn't know the difference between a poisonous herb and a harmless one. He just boils the water and puts them in, like a good little servant.
The vial in the pocket of her robes tapped lightly against her thigh as she moved, and she balanced the tray against her knee as she fished it out. Finding purchase against the wall, with the tray still balanced on her knee and held in place by her left hand, her other hand unstopped the vial and poured out a few lacy looking leaves into the cup she secretly marked. She replaced the vial in her robe pocket and let the leaves seep before knocking on the heavy, imposing door.
"Enter," came a voice on the other side of the door, and she recognised it as Marth's. She turned the handle and pushed the door open, her head bowed in a show of subservience to her liege. She noted another in the room, near Marth, but did not recognise him. She figured him to be some sort of diplomat, for he was richly dressed, and his command of the language was impeccable. She walked over and placed the tray in the middle of the circular table, where Marth appeared to be sitting next to his companion and across from him at the same time. She handed Marth the cup directly in front of him on the tray, and he nodded in thanks. She did the same for Marth's companion before curtseying.
"Is there anything else Your Highness is in need of?"
Marth stirred honey into his tea and shook his head.
"Not at this moment, Katarina." He did a double-take then. "Katarina? Why are you delivering me tea?"
Katarina hesitated, but only briefly. "They had need of another pair of hands in the kitchen, and so I offered my services. I am but a humble mage-in-training, after all, sire."
Marth's green haired companion looked interested. "Mage-in-training?"
Katarina nodded. "Yes."
"Merric, you're accepting pupils over in Pales, aren't you?" Marth asked. Merric nodded.
"Then why not take Katarina under your wing? You know as well as I do that Altea is a little short on mentors for magic..."
Katarina flushed. Every mage worth his or her salt knew of Merric and his teachings at the magic academy in Pales.
"I did not intend to divert the discussion Your Highness and Lord Merric were having before I arrived. Your Highness' tea will be cold if you do not drink it."
Marth dismissed Katarina, promising to call on her when they were finished, and Marth took a sip of the tainted tea just before she turned around and walked out. She smirked to herself as she closed the door behind her and let out a sigh.
Kuraine will have little to complain about now.