“No,” she said, “I don’t know anything about curses, and even if I did, I have a feeling that the one you’re under is far above my talents anyway. I’m not good with magic.”
Any hope that had been beginning to stir in his chest disappeared. “But you said—”
Guinevere shook her head. “I am only good with plants and animals. All the tinctures that your healer uses come from me,” she said proudly. “And they do a fine job, but they will not work on a silencing curse without me doing some incredibly difficult work.”
“Can you do it?” Alexander asked, the words pouring out in a pleading tone before he could stop them. “Please.”
Guinevere bit her lip. “Is there a time limit?” she asked.
Alexander nodded. He couldn’t force the words out.
Guinevere sighed. “A year?” she asked hopefully.
Alexander shook his head.
“Less than that?” she asked in a glum voice.
Alexander nodded.
She grimaced. “Six months?” she asked.
He shook his head and pointed down. “Three months?” she asked.
It was Alexander’s turn to grimace as he continued to point down.
“Two months? A month? Three weeks? Two weeks? A week?” Guinevere’s voice rose incredulously when he finally nodded. ‘You want me to figure out how to break a curse in a week?”
“Less,” Alexander said miserably.
Guinevere frowned. “Your birthday?” she asked, her tone suggesting that she’d given up expecting anything other than the worst news.
Alexander nodded, and Guinevere took a deep breath. “I can’t promise anything,” she warned.
“Anything would be better than nothing,” Alexander managed before the words caught in his throat.
“How bad is it?” Guinevere asked.
“Bad,” he admitted.
“And I’m going to assume that your need for a wife had something to do with that?” she asked.
Alexander nodded his head, the movement triggering the lump in his throat.
Guinevere took a deep breath. “And she knows nothing?”
“Unfortunately,” Alexander said.
The maid took another deep breath, and her fingers began drumming the surface of his desk. “Pen and paper?” she asked.
After a moment of rummaging, Alexander pulled out a pencil and a notebook, ripping out a sheet of paper for her.
“You know, I can't promise anything,” she warned.
“You already said that,” Alexander said.
“And you know that she needs to know,” Guinevere said.
Alexander nodded.
