Bennett purred for a moment before squirming out of my embrace.Cissa! Are you not ill?
I set him down, suddenly embarrassed. “I-It was just a headache. Will you be alright walking on your own?”
Of course!Bennett said.I climbed the balustrades to get to you.He threw his head back. Misty did the same when she was annoyed. How I missed her.
We made a quick escape from my suite, though not without some baffled stares from passing maids. It was then I realized my state of undress. Rumors about the crown princess wandering the halls in nothing but a nightgown would have consequences. No doubt another Sister Scarlett article. I winced. Careless!
I scooped Bennett from the floor, much to his chagrin. This time, however, he didn't squirm. I could’ve sworn he hissed at a gawping guard who quickly averted his eyes.
Giselle’s reserved room was only a few halls down. I found her door and knocked thrice.
It swung open immediately. Giselle poked her head out.
“Good! You’re here,” she said.
“Giselle, we have a problem,” I began, following her across her chamber. “Bennett—”
Giselle whistled. She didn’t seem to notice the new feline presence. “I do admire your pluck but I don’t think transparent nightgowns are coming into fashion this summer. Most prefer to leavesomethingto the imagination.”
“It’s not transpa—there’s no time!” My cheeks heated, and I grew very aware of the calico cat in my arms. I let him to the ground. “Something happened to Bennett. He...he got turned into a cat.”
Giselle glanced down at Bennett. “Oh, is that him?”
“Yes.” I furrowed my brow. “You sound awfully nonchalant.”
“Well,” Giselle said slowly. “That’s because I’m the one who did it.”
5
What is the meaning of this?Bennett demanded, stalking forward.
The seamstress could hear nothing but a series of aggressive meows, but she guessed his meaning. “Don’t be too angry with me. I was working under orders,” she said, draping a swath of silk over the chaise longue.
“Under whose orders? And you’re acharmwitchhow did you manage a...a feline transformation potion?”
“I bought it,obviously,” Giselle said. “Look at you. Knowing the difference between charms and potions. Lovely work.”
I raked a hand through my hair. “How could you do this? Giselle, this istreason.”
Giselle raised her hands. “It wasn’t my idea. Don’t throw me in prison just yet.”
Surely Giselle wasn’t conspiring with a rebel cause. The anti-witch riots had just died down a month ago, and I was certain she wouldn’t have anything to do with it since her childhood bully, Celeste Carr, had fueled the flames in the first place. Was it for an ambassador, perhaps? A threat outside of Olderea?
Bennett yowled.
