Hug Me and You'll Die

20: The only "couple" we are is a couple of mortal enemies!

Earl Fairbloom took a deep breath and tried to rein in his emotions as he looked his daughter whom was unconcernedly swinging her short little legs back and forth on the edge of her chair, directly in the eyes and asked for the third time, "What exactly did you give them, Marysol?"

"This again?" Desmia sighed as she gave a small shrug. "Like I said before, all that was in that pitcher was a purifying tonic."

"A purifying tonic? Tonic?!" The earl had to restrain the urge to grab her by her narrow shoulders and shake her back and forth like a rag doll. "They've been unable to stop relieving themselves for nearly two whole hours! Tell me, dear daughter, what kind of purifying tonic does that?!!"Since when did the words "purifying tonic" become synonymous with the word "poison"?!

"The kind that's doing its job," Desmia answered as she riffled through her research notebook. "This particular tonic was designed to cleanse one's body of toxins and other potentially harmful maladies in one fell swoop."

She closed her notebook and motioned Earl Fairbloom to step closer and gave him a reassuring pat on the arm. "In other words, esteemed father, there is no need for you to worry about the men from the ducal house; they're not in any critical danger or anything. Once the tonic finishes with its task, their hyperactive bowel movements should cease. Not only that, their bodies will feel lighter, cleaner and more energized than ever before. That's why the note I left read, "Drink this for improved health."

She made a faint humming sound as she casually added, "At least in theory anyways."

"In theory?" The earl's countenance darkened. "You mean, you aren't completely sure? There's no guarantee that they'll be entirely fine after this ordeal?"

Desmia widened her eyes innocently as she hopped off the chair. "Why, can anyone ever be completely sure when it comes to this type of thing? Any given substance can react differently depending on the person taking it and furthermore, this formula is untested!"

"Why would you give them something that was untested?!" Seeing Desmia saunter towards the door unaffectedly, he hurriedly shouted, "Wait! Where are you going?!!"

"Town," she replied as she increased her speed. "We're running behind schedule with the business plans because of that little detour you made me make this morning. Since you'll probably need some people to stay behind to monitor the situation here, I'm not wrong to assume that it'll just be Kale and I? No matter, I reckon the two of us will be more than sufficient for the first step in the plan anyways. Please be a dear and write down any other notable reactions from my precious test-ahem I mean the precious guests, in the time that I'm gone, would you?"

"You can't just leave!" he voiced in distress.

"Oh, but you see, father, I must!" Without halting in her steps, Desmia crooked her head towards the earl and feigned a troubled expression. "Opportunity waits for no one! Poverty too for that matter! If you're not prepared, you'll be at a complete loss! It's a race against time! Is life not too short for us not act on our ambitions? What are humans if not ambitious?"

The earl grew increasingly bewildered in the face of his daughter's blathering. She's clearly very young, only seven years old, but why does her manner of speech oftentimes resemble that of someone who has lived a long life and weathered countless tribulations? Now that I think about it, isn't her breadth of knowledge unheard of for a child as well? Is it because she's a self-proclaimed prodigy? Are all prodigies supposed to be this eccentric?!

The longer he dwelled on this matter, the further he spiraled into confusion.

When Earl Fairbloom finally gathered his thoughts, he suddenly realized that he was now the only one left in the room. It was only then that it dawned on him that his crafty daughter had successfully used drivel as a means to escape from his interrogation.