Shock rang through me. “But I’m not a witch! What am I to do, Mother? Besot them? Make his sworn enemies fall in love with me?” My heart throbbed. “Will they, too, try to take me?”
Mother listened intently, then looked to my father. With a flicker of her eyes, she bid him to offer forth his satchel. I took the bag and rifled through it with uncertainty.
“There was a time when our practice was regarded with superstition,” my mother explained. I examined the jarred assortments of herbs, flowers, and fungus within the satchel with dubiety. “When poison and medicine were no different than magic to the commonfolk.”
“Poison?” I nearly dropped the bag. “You would have me poison the prince’s enemies?”
“You’ll need to find recipes within the royal library; we did not think to bring the family ‘grimoire’ along.” Mother flashed alopsided grin, as if the thought of witchcraft was no more than an amusement to her.
The half-joke fell flat in the face of my stupefaction. I picked my jaw up from the floor. “Does this not distress you?”
Mother clasped my shoulders. “I can rest easy knowing that my daughter lives at night.”
“And you’ll be protecting the interests of the realm,” my father joined in, evidently keeping up to some degree. “An enemy of the royal family is an enemy to us all.”
My hold on the satchel tightened. “I cannot do it.”
“You can,” said my mother. “You must.”
We were quiet for a spell, and then my parents’ stomachs rumbled with hunger. Clearly, they agreed on this concern, believing I should corrupt the very morals they’d instilled in me for the sake of survival. It was hypocritical of them, and I’d hoped they’d find some wiser path for me to follow. Disappointed as I was, however, I saw where they were coming from. They hadn’t accounted for how to conduct myself in the face of sovereignty.
I put on a warm and loving face to the best of my ability and led them to the guest suite; together we dined, told stories, and managed to bring some level of normality to the evening…
And yet, all the goodness their company brought was marred by the tumultuous thoughts surging quietly through my mind. I looked into my goblet, swirling the burgundy liquid so that my image distorted.
Wolf’s Bane. Hemlock. Death Cap.
I sorted the jars into a small wooden chest, separating remedies and maladies. Some of these ingredients I had collected myself, and others were imported from faraway lands. I would have to remember to acquire something custom to keep them stored in, perhaps with a hidden compartment. It wouldn’t do for anyone to find me with such an assortment of lethal ingredients.
Killing someone, in theory, was a simple errand. A tincture of mandrake would bring a terrible bout of visions to whoever was unfortunate enough to consume it, followed shortly thereafter bya sleep they’d never rouse from. Such a dramatic murder would no doubt raise suspicions, and I was hardly a trained assassin. I wouldn’t know how to sneak poison into someone’s food and drink…
I shut the chest and pressed my forehead down atop the polished exterior.
The prince would need to find someone else to conduct his terrible business. Surely he could recognize his misunderstanding. And maybe when he saw that I was nothing but an innocent young woman, he’d send me home—no, no. I knew better. It was foolish to continuously delude myself with hope.
Sighing, I pushed away from the vanity and placed my night robe on a wall peg, then crossed to the oversized mattress. Tonight, my parents would sleep in similar comfort, only to return to their hides and straw beds tomorrow.
I sat on the foot of the bed and imagined the conversation my parents must be having at this very moment: Mother’s indignation at the warmth of the room; Father bemoaning how all the sweets at supper were upsetting his stomach.
Come to think of it, though, my mother looked quite natural in her borrowed gown, and the first thing she had thought to do when seeing me today was to express envy. She didn’t seem too upset with my situation at all… Perhaps, now that I was gone, she could finally return to an apothecary’s life in Finn’s Hollow. It would be good for my parents to have friends again.
My absence would significantly improve the quality of their lives. Had my mother cut out my tongue, the three of us would have been happier. I might have wound up with brothers and sisters… Instead, my parents sacrificed all the comforts of marriage in order to continue our family’s safe existence.
The chamber door creaked open. I hardly turned my head; in my current state, I was as good as vegetative. Only the glint of metal caught my attention, and by the time I did look, the door was closed behind my stumbling guest.
He wore a tricorn hat over a mask of brass, any discernable features well-concealed. His cape was turned up at the collar and draped down to his knees with the weight of luxurious fabric, black and embroidered with distinct designs. It covered both of his hands, but the silvery tip of a dagger poked out from the opening.
I couldn’t move before the man lunged. I tumbled onto the stone floor from the force, landing on my side. Then he was upon me, reeking of alcohol.
His speed was impressive for a drunk. He took hold of my arm and twisted it behind me in one swift motion. I tried to pull away, then heard a pop as I felt an excruciating sense that my limb was being torn from me. My lips parted to scream, but I hesitated just in time, somehow managing to keep my wits about me through the searing agony climbing through my shoulder.
If I consciously exposed the man to my curse and he was already bent on violence, what suffering would I endure?
And if I stayed quiet? Was that truly the better option?
A rumbling tore from my throat. His gloved hand clamped over my mouth, concealing the wail before it could escape and draw attention from anyone close enough to hear.
“Gods above,” he muttered close to my ear, his voice hollow within the brass mask. For a heartbeat I wondered if that had been enough, and then I felt him firm against my rear, only clothing shielding me from his indecency. Steel armor wouldn’t have been enough to protect me from the terror it invoked. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, now that I look at you. How could anyone want to hurt such a precious thing? ButI’mnot here to kill you, m’lady; I’m getting you out of here. It’s in your best interest to stop fighting.”
