The queen wanted to hear from me at last. “Speak. I’m sure it will only be lies, but let’s hear your tale.”
The little boy brought the bag back to me but seemed to think twice about getting close to the not-a-witch-still-a-stranger. He handed my satchel to Jerrald, who set it on the floor between us.
I swallowed. Fortunately, I had time during the evening march to the castle to come up with a backstory. “I’m a traveler, from a kingdom far, far away. Beyond the blue Seas of Melancholy.”
I felt the crowd behind me still as they waited.Oh. I had thought that’d be enough.
“And I wassentby a witch.”
There was a general murmur of approval. Apparently, I fit the bill for witch’s assistant.
“For what purpose?” the queen demanded.
Why couldn’t Sorrel have written me a cover story? I was going to have a word with her about her paltry onboarding system.
I clasped my hands together and tried to look thoughtful. Sorrel had tasked me with the vague notion of fixing the plot and I carried a highly specific vision in my head of me and Ironclaw that I was dedicated to manifesting. To achieve both, I needed to have the queen’s ear and be able to go where I wanted in the castle. Claiming to be a warrior was clearly out. My only talent was in knowing what chapters were yet to come.
“To advise.”
The queen frowned at my presumption. There was nothing but to speed ahead.
“The Witch of Mayfair sees a positive outcome for you but not without much loss. A rift is coming. There are those who wish to see you fail.”
A line appeared between her light brows. “Who?”
I fought for the right words. “Your Grace, I’m not sure that’s wise to speak aloud here. Witches speak in riddles. Sometimes their prediction is the very instigator for their prophecy coming true.”
The queen’s blue eyes flashed as she drew back. “What is—” she lowered her voice, “—aninstigator?”
I nodded sagely. “Instigatemeans to start something. Aninstigatoris the person who starts it.”
“I see what you mean about these witch’s riddles. Everyone out!”
There was a shuffle through the great hall. Ladies and lords—and, I suppose, generic medieval-type folk—gathered their cloaks and furs around themselves as they prepared to leave the great room.
The idea of facing the queen alone terrified me.
I shouted loud enough to be heard. “No, Your Grace!”
Shit.The hall went silent. I felt Jerrald tense next to me, but thankfully, he didn’t step on my foot again.
“No?” Queen Elthra seemed to enjoy repeating the word back to me.
“If I tell you now...youcould become...the instigator.”
Someone from the crowd again gasped.
The queen considered that, torn by her desire for gossip and her reluctance to become what I’d deemed an instigator. “Fine,” she said at last in a bored tone. Clearly, I had squashed her fun. “You’re not to leave the castle or divulge any information before it comes to me. Understood, Lady Dottie?”
I nodded.
The corners of her mouth tilted down. “My punishments can be harsh.”
It was no struggle to look appropriately grave. Sorrel had said I wasn’t going to die, but neither did I want to spend my free time locked in a dungeon. “So I’ve heard.”
That made Queen Elthra smile at last. “Good.” She addressed the room. “Let us go to the banquet.”
The queen and her enormous dress sashayed down the stone steps and Jerrald pulled me aside, out of her way.
