Sylva's eyes darted between the tea, the flower in her hand, and Argider's pale face. Her expression darkened as a realization gripped her. She leaned in closer, her voice low but urgent. "Argider... are you pregnant?"
Argider stiffened, her cheeks flushing. "W-What? Why would you ask that so suddenly?"
Sylva arched a brow, her gaze unwavering. "Just answer me."
With a hesitant sigh, Argider nodded. "Y-Yes, I am."
Sylva's expression shifted from suspicion to outright alarm. "Then you should thank the gods you didn't drink this tea."
Argider blinked, confused. "Why? It wasn't poisoned, right?"
Sylva shook her head, her tone grim. "No, it wasn't. But this flower—this seemingly innocent bloom—isn't here for decoration. Combined with the tea, its scent activates a reaction with another herb used in the blend. Together, they create a natural abortifacient."