As Calais's lips brush against mine, my mind races with desperate thoughts. I think of the poison I'd hidden in my chamber, a substance that would render me unconscious and I would wake up very sick. The antidote is rare, and only someone like Eliana will be able to heal me without it.
A plan begins to formulate. If I take the poison now, Calais would have no choice but to leave and find the cure or seek help from Eliana, leaving me free from his suffocating grip—at least for a while.
The wedding would be postponed and while Calais is gone, I can execute my plan. Then he will return without me in the house.
