Disclaimer: Not much has changed since Chapter 1, so Wicked is still not mine.
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Boq peered down into the cup of tea he held on the silver platter. The brown liquid inside still swirled with leftover inertia from his vigorous stirring the moment before. It needed to be hot enough to require blowing, the cup filled two thirds of the way with tea, two sugar cubes added, and served at exactly 8:17 PM. It had become a chant inside his mind and he no longer needed to think while preparing his lady's tea. Steaming, 2/3 tea, 2 cubes, 8:17, he said to himself over and over, Steaming, 2/3 tea, 2 cubes, 8:17. Sometimes he could be so engrossed with this that he would be able to pay no attention to his crippled lady and her puppy-like attempts at seduction.
He knew that his trick wouldn't work this morning. He would need all his focus on the matter at hand if he weren't to ruin the whole plan.
"Boq?" cried a feeble voice from the upstairs of the mansion.
He glanced at a clock. It was nearly 8:18. He was already botching things up! He hastily slipped the tiny, unlabeled bottle in his trouser pocket and hurried upstairs.
"Here, Milady," he said with a bow, "I apologize for my lateness. I lost track of the time."
"I would be more likely to forgive you if you just called me 'Nessa', Boq," she said.
"Sorry, Milady."
Nessa gave one of her aggrieved sighs and took the proffered cup of tea. She took an enormous whiff of it and closed her eyes dreamily.
Boq waited, barely daring to breathe, to see if she would smell the new ingredient to the recipe, but she merely smiled.
"There's nothing like tea to help one get to sleep, is there, Boq?"
"No, Milady," Boq agreed, hoping that this tea would not only help her to sleep, but keep her from waking ever again.
"Boq, please don't call me that," Nessa said, lowering her cup, "You know I don't like it. I want to be friends. Friends can be casual with each other."
"I do not think that that would be appropriate, Milady."
Nessa surveyed him sadly, "Why must you insist on being so cold, Boq? You know I've always loved you."
Boq's face did not falter, though his conscience did.
Nessa shook her head and lifted her tea toward her mouth. For Boq, the world slowed. Somehow, before even a single drop touched her pale lips, he managed to get the cup away from her. And he was bustling, bustling from the room, hurrying downstairs to pour the poison in the sink. Often he felt as though he didn't have a heart, but sometimes he knew that he was only lacking the part of a heart necessary to kill her.
"Boq?" Nessa called after him, the question as frail a butterfly as herself.