Her eyes danced with amusement as she inched closer to me, her steps unhurried. Her easy-going attitude was undoubtedly a tactic to unsettle me, and it worked. My breathing was shallow, my body was trembling, and my heart rate hadn’t been at a normal pace for what felt like hours. Yes, I was angry, but there was no denying it—I was also afraid. Not for myself, but for the little princess who lay on the ground.
“I am no witch, but I have certainly found them to be quite useful.” She gestured back to the cottage with a sly grin. Witch or not, she was a monster.
Umber leaves rose from their forest bed to dance in a breath of wind. They traveled and tumbled across the unconscious girl at my feet, but she did not stir. “What have you done to her?” I snarled.
She came to a halt beside the fire pit. The breeze redirected the smoke from the cauldron towards where we stood, no more than three feet apart. I angled my body to shield Amalie. I’d be damned before I let Livia near her again. I reached for the power in my core, readying it for attack.
“The princess was given a potion that has suspended her in a death-like coma,” she said. I stiffened. “Unfortunately for Princess Amalie, she will remain that way unless I give her the antidote.”
“Where is it?” I demanded.
She offered me a hateful smile. “All you need to know is that I’ll give it to the princess as long as you do as I say.”
“And what would that be, exactly?” I asked, encouraging her to keep talking—it would give me time to think.
The glass jars and vials inside the cottage. Surely the antidote was in one of those? All I needed to do was take Livia out, then I could search for it.
“To begin with, did you bring what I asked for?”
Eyes narrowed, I reached for the grimoire inside my pocket. At the sight of it, her eyes widened hungrily. When she finally tore her gaze away from it, the look she gave me was indecipherable.
“Put it on the ground in front of you.”
“Give Amalie the antidote and it’s yours,” I said, clutching the book tightly against my body.
She raised an eyebrow. “Worried I won’t keep my word?”
“Your word means less than nothing to me,sweetie.”
She huffed a laugh. “I don’t particularly want to kill the child, but I won’t hesitate to do so,” she said with a callous shrug. “And, before you even so much as think about using your powers against me, know that I’ve gone to considerable lengths to ensure you will never find the antidote.”
“And what makes you think I wouldn’t take that chance?” Though my words were laced with challenge, I kept my power leashed. What would happen if Livia was telling the truth?
She barked a laugh. “We both know you would never do anything to jeopardize the child’s life. But, by all means, take a gamble. See if you can locate the antidote. Do be careful not to poison her with the wrong potion. Tarben wouldn’t be pleased with you at all.”
I arranged my face into a mask of indifference. But, at my sides, my hands balled into fists.Don’t react.
“Not that he cares for you all that much now,” she taunted,cruel amusement lighting her features.
Realization was a punch to my gut. “The amulet—that was you.”
Smug delight dressed her face as she nodded. What was once a familiar sparkle in her eyes now looked like an evil glint.
“Why?” I hated how choked the word sounded; my mask had slipped.
“A sleight of hand. You were so busy sniffing around Oriane, it was all too easy to snatch the princess out from under your noses.” Another apathetic shrug. “Or maybe I just worship chaos.”
My jaw tightened. All I had suffered over these past few days had been for nothing more than a distraction. “How?”
Livia, completely unfazed, seemed to relish revealing her scheme. “Tarben and his men spent the night at my manor on their way back from the border. After I drugged him with a sleeping draught, it was simple enough to acquire a drop of his blood. The true challenge lay in convincing Oriane to wear the amulet without ever taking it off. I told her it was another piece from her inheritance—that it had belonged to her aunt.
“Now here is the real genius,” she gloated. “I spun a tale about how it had brought her aunt good fortune beyond her wildest dreams, but, shortly after she took it off, she died. Oriane didn’t care—she’s nothing if not predictable. As soon as she knew of the amulet’s existence, she kept after me about it until I delivered it to her.” She beamed as though she was expecting applause.
“Oriane was just a pawn?” I didn’t bother to conceal my disgust. Oriane would never be my favorite person, but to be used in Livia’s games? Even she didn’t deserve that.
At last, she set her basket down. She got to her knees and began sifting through it—she didn’t think I was a threat. A mistake.
“Wedded to a prince and all her financial worries gone? I’d say I made her dreams come true,” she said, still consumed with her search.
