I opened my mouth to answer. Then I realized my situation.
I was in a room full of people who detested magic and those who possessed it. Ash hadn’t asked the guards to release me. He asked if I was a witch. There was fear in his manner—something I never expected would be toward me.
My voice broke. “Yes.”
“There. She admits it,” Narcissa said almost gleefully. “Throw her in the dungeons where she belongs.”
Sir Hughes motioned for the guards to take me away. “Your Highness, it would be perfectly understandable if you would like to personally—”
“No.” Ash shouldered his way past the guards and past me. “I’m finished here.”
And he was gone.
They dragged me to the dungeons and threw me into a windowless cell of stone. Save for the grate in the high ceiling, there was no light. Darkness fell when they slammed the door.
I collapsed onto the straw-littered floor at the sound of heavy chains and a lock clicking shut, numb to everything but my thoughts.
Ash believed Narcissa’s lies. Had Lana been right about the royals all this time? He let me shoulder the crimes of the duchess after all I had done to help him. After all the evidence we had found. I never had a chance to explain myself.
If only the guards knew the potion in the cauldron wasn’t poison. If only there was someone who could clear my name. I sat up.
Erasmus.
Erasmus could do it. He could tell them I wasn’t a traitor. He was the only person in the palace who wasn’t afraid of witches.
I scrambled to the door and pounded it, ignoring the splinters digging into my flesh. “Is anyone out there? Please let me see Erasmus Lenard, the royal inspector!”
My plead was met with silence. Echoes of the other prisoners’ cries seeped in through the stone, but no answer to my request. I banged the door again. “Please! Someone call for Erasmus Lenard! I’m innocent and I can prove it!”
The slot above my head slid open.
“Quiet down,” a gruff voice of a guard said. I didn’t recognize the bushy brows and creased eyes, which was a good sign. Maybe he didn’t know I was a witch.
“Please, sir! There’s been a misunderstanding. I’ve been wrongly accused. I can prove my innocence if I see Erasmus Lenard, the royal inspector.”
The bushy brows lowered. “You’re the witch?” he said. “The one who has been poisoning Her Majesty the queen?”
“I-I didn’t poison Queen Cordelia!” I said. “I can prove it—”
“You’re a witch?”
“Well, yes, but—”
The guard snorted. “Then it doesn’t matter if you poisoned the queen or not. Either way your trial and execution are in one week, when the king and crown prince return from overseas.”
The air seemed to be sucked out of my lungs. “What? Trialandexecution?”
“That’s right. Save your breath for the king. I don’t want to hear your jabbering.” He began to close the slot, but I stuck my fingers in before he could.
“B-but sir, I’m begging you—”
The guard’s eyes narrowed. “Make any more noise and you’ll be executed tomorrow.”
He slammed the slot closed. I yanked my throbbing fingers out and kicked the door in frustration, stubbing my toe. Tears welled up in my eyes and fell down my face in fat droplets.
I had one week. If I didn’t prove my innocence, I’d die. And if I did, I’d die. All because I was a witch.
Lana had been right all along. Witches could never live among humans. They could never trust us, especially those with power.
