CHAPTER 219: POISONED

After Fedor sipped from his glass, everyone followed suit, their hands betraying their anticipation.

"Mm. It’s good."

"Yes. It tastes refreshing."

"I haven’t tasted anything like it."

"The Vanilla Courtyard always serves new delicacies. You can’t ever get tired of it."

"Yes. It never fails to leave me amazed."

Praises rang out from different parts of the hall.

"It’s called strawberry lemonade." Fedor said.

Everyone nodded in realization.

Once the glasses were emptied, everyone thought it was over, just like the doughnuts, but their glasses were refilled again.

"Let’s all eat and drink. There’s enough to go around. Today is indeed a very joyous day." Fedor said, raising his glass.

Everyone raised their glasses.

[Haha. Juice being used like wine.] Aristia snickered.

Fedor glanced at the envoys seated at the table with a hint of pride. This drink that they were enjoying so much was a product of his kingdom. Specifically, his own niece.

The envoys engaged in conversation while sipping from their glasses. Some of them were even considering meeting with the owner of The Vanilla Courtyard to discuss expanding to their kingdoms.

On Aristia’s side.

Vivian Quentin ate quietly beside Aristia with her head lowered.

[She doesn’t wanna talk to me?] Aristia thought.

"You’re not saying anything?" She asked.

Vivian’s spoon that had just been raised up paused, then she looked up at Aristia with, "Say what?"

"Nothing." Aristia replied, going back to her food."

Vivian nodded, looking back at her meal.

[Ah! She’s so shy.] Aristia shook her head.

The tables were not quiet. Aristia was about to return to her food when she heard.

"... she’s so pitiful."

"Yes. Her husband has been like that, and yet... sigh. When Marchioness Oswalt decided to seek a divorce from her husband, I thought she would do the same."

"She’s even more pitiful than the Marchioness. And I heard that he even brought his mistress home."

"What? Is that true? The mistress is living with the wife?"

"I don’t know. It might be."

[Who are they talking about?] Aristia was curious. And it was a woman who was brought home. The wife was really pitiful.

"... Countess Prescott." Aristia finally caught a name.

Her mind went back to the first time she went out in this world. She, Alaric and Catherine had gone shopping for Alistair Anton’s tea party and had met Countess Cara Prescott at the door.

Her attention moved away from the women conversing and returned to her table.

After the feast, it was time for the banquet to end.

While Aristia was bidding farewell to her friends, Vivian Quentin had no choice but to stand with them.

One by one, the children entered their families’ carriages.

Finally, it was Vivian’s turn.

Her parents and siblings slowly entered the carriage, waiting for Vivian.

"Then I’ll see you tomorrow, Vivian." Aristia said.

Vivian was surprised. So the princess would also come to her tomorrow?

She nodded. "Yes."

She then turned and entered the carriage.

The carriage rode away and Aristia turned around to enter the palace.

"So..."

"Ha!" Aristia almost jumped. She stared at Lauren, Serina and Beatrix incredulously.

"What?" Lauren looked at her innocently.

"Nothing. You didn’t just scare me." She said seriously.

"Hehe," her cousins laughed.

"So... I was saying," Lauren came closer to her and held her left arm. "You’re now friends with Vivian Quentin."

Aristia shook her head. "No."

"You’re not?" Serina asked with confusion.

Aristia nodded and walked into the palace.

No, she wasn’t friends with Vivian Quentin.

Everything she had done was for one purpose— an apology.

For what the original Aristia had done to her, Aristia had gone the extra mile.

She had acted like she was now friends with Vivian so that Vivian could be treated better.

Aristia could tell the kind of people Vivian’s parents were, and from their attitude towards their children, she could tell that they were less fond of Vivian.

The clothes Vivian wore were less inferior to the clothes worn by her sisters, and she was quieter.

She didn’t act comfortably around her family and also seemed invisible in her own home.

Now, her parents had begun treating her better than before. She was also wearing pretty clothes.

This change was obvious to Aristia, letting her know that her tactic had worked.

But her cousins did not understand this. They followed after her in confusion.

[I don’t owe her anything.]

"So what are we gonna do now?" Beatrix asked, looking at Aristia.

Aristia looked at the sky. It was dark now.

After they had entered the palace, she finally replied.

"What do you guys say, a sleepover?"

"A sleepover?" Lauren asked, confused.

Beatrix and Serina smiled brightly and somewhat smugly.

They had had a sleepover with Aristia, but Lauren hadn’t.

"You’ll see." They replied.

Lauren rolled her eyes at their attitude.

"We’ll head to the kitchen first." Aristia said. They were walking towards the kitchen when Aristia saw something from the corner of her eyes.

"You guys go ahead. Ask Odelia to prepare the ingredients. I’ll be right back."

"Oh... okay." They nodded and continued to the kitchen.

Aristia stood in that spot for a few seconds after they left before she moved, taking another corridor.

She looked around carefully before walking towards a door.

This door was only open by a tiny gap causing a small bit of light to sleep through from the room into the dimly lit corridor.

Aristia squinted a bit and saw Rowaine sitting on the couch and sipping tea.

She looked up at someone probably seated in front of her and spoke.

"... Charlotte."

Aristia’s brows raised up.

"Charlotte?" She muttered, then held her hand to her mouth to prevent herself from speaking and exposing herself.

She held her breathing, wondering if anyone had overheard her.

Luckily, it didn’t seem like that.

Aristia exhaled silently in relief.

She listened carefully, but Rowaine was speaking in a low voice, so she had to strain her ears to listen.

"... didn’t come... the banquet."

"... can’t... being poisoned." Now it was Catherine’s voice.