Chapter 20
AMBROSE
Ambrose knew there was no trust in love.
But there was no love in trusting that truth either.
Normally, he liked being right. But not this time.
The witch waited for him at the end of the staircase. There was an expectant gleam in her eye, and Ambrose wondered whether she knew all along that Imelda never planned to love him. Much less leave with him.
“All that you wish will come to pass,” the witch said kindly.
Forgetting, thought Ambrose. That’s all he wanted now. He didn’t want to feel this chasm opening up inside him for a moment longer.
Hardly an hour ago, he was the happiest man in the world. He kept imagining different things…Imelda’s face when she opened the present he’d given her. Her smile. Her kiss. Her hand in his.
“I just wish to forget all about this excursion.”
“Then cross the bridge, my boy. But before you go, what about the stone potion?”
Ambrose pointed upstairs. “With her.”
The witch smiled, casting her eyes upward. “Then it’s time to pay her a visit.”
Chapter 21
IMELDA
“You owe me a potion!”
Imelda looked up and saw the witch standing in the doorway of the room. She forced herself to stand, then pointed wordlessly at the stone potion, which sat on the windowsill behind her. The witch hummed to herself as she walked inside, plucked the bottle, and dropped it into her bright-pink purse.
“And what about me?” Imelda asked miserably. “What do I get?”
“The moment you leave this winter town, you will be forever unshackled. Your father will not expect you back in the palace. You will forget all about ever being the queen of Love’s Keep and the past week—”
Imelda jerked her head up. “What?”
“Isn’t that what you wanted? A new start? With my powers, you will wander the world, and I will give you a sturdy pair of seven-league boots, a purse full of enchanted roads, and a broad-brimmed hat because one should always limit exposure to the sun, or we age quite rapidly.”
“But I don’t want to forget.”
Even if it had ended like this, she couldn’t fathom losing everything she’d seen, learned…felt…over the past year and a day and more. It struck her like a kind of death.
“You asked for freedom, child, but that’s something I cannot grant you fully.”
“But the deal—”
“The deal was for the sense of freedom, which you got without my assistance.”
Sense of freedom?Imelda felt the sudden warmth of Ambrose’s smile. That buoyant wave inside her heart. Ithadbeen freedom. But she couldn’t trust it.
“Listen to me. You can wander the world and be beholden to no one, and still find yourself trapped.” The witch shuddered. “That aunt of yours is no freer than a bird with clipped wings in a gold cage.”
“No one controls her.”
“Oh, perhaps it’s not a person that pulls her strings…but it might as well be a tangible thing—blindness to love, lust for power, coiling envy, brewing suspicion. They will control you if you let them. But love? Love is a freedom. It is a land and a language that holds all, speaks to all—”
