Elizabeth was bursting with questions. “But what—” she trailed off as he slowly shook his head.
He would not reveal any more of his secrets tonight.
Caspian escorted her back to her chamber and leaned against her door, towering over her. “And, Elizabeth?”
“Yes,” she said breathlessly, pausing on the threshold.
“Never disobey me again.”
Chapter 19
Magic
It was around midday when Elizabeth made it to Veridas. She had taken surprisingly few wrong turns thanks to Caspian’s book of maps.
She eyed her saddlebags guiltily. She would return the book, eventually.
Elizabeth left Buttercup in the city stables, tossing a copper to the stable hand.
She traipsed into the streets of Veridas, looking for a witch.
Two wrong turns, and about an hour of searching later, she found the witch’s shop. A bell chimed as she pushed the door open and was greeted by the sharp scent of sage and eucalyptus.
The witch was seated with another client, a young woman with dark hair and pale skin, marking her as Arborian. Draped in finery, the young woman’s face showed rapt attention. A silly rich girl, hanging onto the witch’s every word as she was being read her fortune.
When the witch nodded at her in acknowledgement, Elizabeth nodded in return and stepped out of the shop to give the two of them some privacy.
She had been that same woman once, but she felt older now. Like the blanket of naivety that had covered her whole life had been removed. The world was not bright and full of colour anymore, but bleak and full of gray. Every time she was afraid, every time she was unsure where her next steps would lead her, her soul turned a shade darker, and her heart felt a little wearier.
The young woman—who had looked at the witch with her eyes full of hope, blissfully unaware of the monsters that lurked in the shadows of her kingdom—seemed childish, comparatively.
The dark-haired woman soon left the shop and smiled at her as she passed. Shame wrapped around Elizabeth in a vice at her immediate dismissal of the woman.
The witch ushered her inside, gesturing for Elizabeth to have a seat. Elizabeth smoothed her skirts and smiled brightly at the witch, just to prove she was just as kind as the woman before.
“What’s your name?” the witch asked her.
Elizabeth realized she didn’t know the witch’s name. The witch sat forward in the chair, her fingers bearing gold rings steepled together as she studied her.
“We’ve met before.”
“I recall, but I didn’t get your name then, did I?”
“Elizabeth.”
The witch raised her eyebrows. “No family name?”
“Not anymore.”
“Ooh. Not anymore, she says.” The witch leaned in, grinning wickedly. “Disowned? For what reason, I wonder?”
“I am not here to discuss any of those things,” Elizabeth stated clearly. “I am here to ask a few questions.”
“Well, my name is Risna. I hail from Israr. Ask your questions, if you dare.” Risna grinned, as if she enjoyed introducing herself so cryptically.
“I have come for information,” she began.
“Information? But why have you come tome?”
