The Declaration of Who's Who's

Emma continued asking Ms Faust questions.

"Ms Faust, do you remember where you got this bottle of polish?" She asked curiously, hoping to find any leads.

Ms Faust shook her head.

"These materials are restocked by the cleaning staff. I personally have no idea where we get this brand of polish to shine our trophies," she admitted.

Emma frowned.

This was getting nowhere.

Compared to her previous state, she felt much better and no longer had difficulty breathing. The effects of the poison seemed to be short-lasting, and the odds were thankfully in their favour.

Maybe it was because Lily had been exposed to the poison for a longer period of time, causing her to get an even more severe reaction, or it was because she had recuperated from her previous brush with unconsciousness much faster than her unlucky confidant.

Ms Faust tilted her head, pondering about something.

"Though, there was this one student," she said.

"Oh?" James asked, looking at Ms Faust, silently coaxing her for her to say more.

"He was there the exact same day you and that friend of yours came. I'm not saying he was suspicious or might've been the one who poisoned your friend, but he might've had a part to play in it," Ms Faust reasoned.

Emma asked curiously, "Who's this student you're talking about, Ms Faust?"

The minute Ms Faust answered Emma's question, Emma furrowed her brows in confusion.

'It couldn't possibly be him,' she told herself.

Who was the student Ms Faust told Emma and James might've been suspicious?

Emma sighed in defeat, knowing full well it couldn't possibly be him.

Emma sighed in defeat.

"I highly doubt it was him, but thank you for telling us what you know, Ms Faust," she thanked.

The pair bid Ms Faust goodbye and grabbed the poisonous bottle from the desk once she curtly nodded, allowing the two to leave.

Saying Ms Faust felt horrible was a terrible understatement. She still felt horrible and guilt-stricken. If only she had paid attention to who had gotten that polish in the first place, maybe she would've been more helpful.

Meanwhile, for the pair, they had already arrived at the laboratory, books and the possibly poisonous bottle at the ready.

James handed over the bottle to Professor Celine, holding the bottle with a handkerchief so as to not have any contact with what might possibly be poison.

Professor Celine, being an expert at the field of science, as expected, handled the bottle with extreme precaution.

She took the bottle from James' grasp, holding it with a large pair of tongs, bringing it as far away from her as possible and storing it somewhere else as a way to hide the bottle from the other students.

As the two students and their professor stood in silence, not knowing what to say or do since classes were about to start in a few minutes, James suddenly piped up.

"Professor, what will we be learning for this class?" He asked.

Professor Celine stifled a laugh.

"As expected from a Carrington to ask their teacher that. Well, I don't think I'm supposed to be telling you this, but this is an exception for the both of you. We're having a pop quiz about what we've learnt yesterday," she stated as-a-matter-of-factly.

From all the things that could've scared the living hell out of James, him not studying for a quiz or not expecting a quiz was quite high up that list.

It took Emma all her strength to drag the entranced boy who was mumbling something about failing his very first science quiz.

"I didn't study for my first quiz...I didn't study for my first quiz," James mumbled regretfully as he was dragged to his seat next to Emma.

He silently panicked, even more nervous than before.

"Calm down, James," Emma whispered, worried about her classmate.

Who was she kidding? He wasn't the only one trying their best not to panic.

She was completely unprepared, and she felt her goals crumbling down.

A voice echoed in her head, 'Say goodbye for being the top student in class. You can't even prepare properly before a quiz.'

While Emma quickly adapted to the fact that she wasn't going to be able to complete that goal of hers, James was another case.

As Emma had seen, his sister had been top of her class and had received many other awards for her merits. He was trying his best to live up to her achievements in life, and that led him astray from the person he was when he wasn't so focused on grades and school.

Knowing well that many other students were watching, Emma's hand took his hand and grasped it in hers. It was more of a declaration of what, or particularly who was who's, than how someone tried to assure another person. At this action, James would've blushed, but he was at a point of time where almost nothing could reassure him.

"James, it'll be fine. This is only a first quiz," she assured him, while also trying to calm her racing heartbeat.

His frown turned into a pout Emma found adorable.

She smiled warmly at him.

"As if the great James Carrington would be defeated by a quiz," she quipped.

For once, James laughed.

"You're right. This quiz is no match for 'the great James Carrington'," he replied, his much more pleasant demeanour returning, and a silver of his arrogance as well.

"What if I propose," James started.

Emma faltered. She stared at James, eyes blank.

'Did he just say, 'propose'?!'