To her astonishment, King Edward’s laughter boomed across the courtyard. He stood, applauding with genuine delight as the queen smiled.
“Marvelous!” he exclaimed. “Absolutely marvelous! Come. You must tell us how you learned such wonders.”
Before she could move, another voice cut through the chaos.
“This is sorcery!” Cedric bellowed, pointing an accusing finger. “She endangers Your Grace’s life with fire and sky-tricks! This woman is no natural philosopher. She is a witch!”
Murmurs rippled through the remaining courtiers. Some crossed themselves as others nodded in agreement. Beth felt her blood run cold.
Baldwin stepped in front of her. “Mind your tongue, Whitmore. The lady acts with the king’s permission.”
“This woman acts with powers no mortal should possess,” Cedric retorted, his face contorted with rage. “She endangers us all with her foreign knowledge!”
Jacquetta stepped forward, her presence silencing the whispers. “Enough,” she said, her voice carrying effortlessly across the courtyard. “Lord Cedric, you forget yourself.”
The king’s expression had hardened. “Indeed. I find your outburst tiresome, Whitmore. You are banished from court until you learn better manners.”
Cedric’s face paled, then flushed with humiliation. He bowed stiffly. “As Your Grace commands.” But as he straightened, his eyes found Beth’s, filled with such hatred that she physically recoiled.
“I will remember this,” he mouthed silently before turning on his heel and stalking away.
The king turned his attention back to Beth, his good humor apparently restored. “Now then, you must join us for supper and explain this fascinating demonstration. Baldwin, we should talk. ’Tis past time for your lovely sister to wed.”
Baldwin forced a smile, bowing deeply. “Your Grace honors us.”
As the crowd dispersed, following the king back toward the palace, Baldwin pulled Beth into an alcove, his expression thunderous. Eleanor tactfully moved ahead, giving them privacy.
“You promised discretion!” he hissed, his face inches from hers.
Beth’s own temper flared. “I didn’t promise to be silent while they accuse me of witchcraft!” she shot back. “What was I supposed to do? Refuse the king?”
“You were supposed to be cautious! Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Cedric was humiliated publicly. He’ll never forgive that. And now the king is fascinated by you.”
“Is that so terrible?” Beth demanded. “At least if the king likes me, I’m safer from accusations.”
Baldwin’s anger seemed to drain away, replaced by something more vulnerable. He reached up, his fingers hovering near her face, but not quite touching. “Do you know what they do to witches in London?” he asked softly. “It isn’t the quick death of burning. It’s slow. Methodical. They break the body piece by piece, seeking confession.”
His fingers finally made contact, brushing a smudge of soot from her cheek. The touch was gentle, at odds with the intensity in his eyes.
“I cannot bear the thought of—” he began, then stopped himself.
Beth’s breath caught. For a moment, something shifted between them, the air charged with unspoken words.
“Baldwin!” Eleanor’s voice shattered the moment. “The king is asking for you both!”
He stepped back, his hand dropping to his side. “We’ll continue this discussion later,” he said, his voice once again controlled, distant. “For now, say nothing more of your knowledge. Nothing.”
Later, alone in her chamber, Beth stared at her reflection in the polished metal mirror. Her face was smudged with soot, her carefully arranged hair singed at the edges. She looked exactly like what she was, a woman out of her depth, playing with forces she couldn’t fully control.
“I didn’t mean to,” she whispered softly, her voice shaky. “I never mean to.”
Intentions mattered little here, she was learning. Only consequences, and today’s disaster was already spreading outward, rippling like flames upon water.
A quiet knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. Beth turned slowly as Eleanor slipped into the room, her expression hesitant.
“Are you well? I saw what happened?—”
Beth gave a tight nod, forcing a wan smile as Eleanor approached. “I’ll survive. Hopefully, Glenhaven will, too.”
