“Er...Father left. With His Majesty and the crown prince.”
“Oh?”
“His Majesty wants to settle the situation with the general as soon as possible. He took a few of the rioters, too. It’s a time-sensitive matter and Father—”
“I understand,” Lady Vanessa said. She took a shaky breath. “Go rest, alright?”
“Alright. Good night, Mother.” Maddox kissed her and went off. The door closed softly. I was surprised to hear footsteps on the rug again. The mattress dipped and Lady Vanessa’s gentle hand found my hair once more.
“There now, darling,” she whispered. “Sleep well.”
***
ALOUD CRASH JOLTEDme from my slumber.
“I know her! Iknowher!” Giselle barged into my room, shaking a paper violently over her head.
I squinted, trying to decipher the blur of ink. She sat hard on the bed, waking Pippin and Misty. The cats yowled in displeasure.
Last night’s events rushed over me. The king’s decision. The disappearance of my magic. Bennett leaving. Tightness seized my throat again, but I didn’t have time to wallow.
Giselle shoved the paper into my hands. It was the opera flier, wrinkled from her handling. “Her,” she practically spat, pointing at the likeness of Celeste on the page.
“Celeste? I thought you didn’t know her,” I croaked.
“Not as Celeste, the famous opera singer. As that good-for-nothing witch child Cecelia who tormented my youth.” Giselle ground her teeth. “I knew she looked familiar. If only I had known before. I’ll bet my life that she’s behind the rebel meetings!”
I vaguely recalled Giselle’s anecdote about the witch who had played pranks on her. The witch who...
“She’s the one who removed magic?” I asked hoarsely. Misty perked up, scrambling to my side. The absence of her voice in my head throbbed like a fresh wound.
“Exactly,” Giselle said.
I drew Misty close, desperately seeking comfort as I relived the splitting headache last night. Not only that, but the mild headache I had when I heard her sing for the first time.
Was that the removal of my magic—or the beginnings of it? Misty claimed I was ignoring her that night. I wasn’t—I just didn’t hear her. But I understood Pippin perfectly well the day after. Was that why Celeste wanted me to see her show a second time?
Giselle’s jaw slackened, as if noticing my state for the first time. “What happened?”
I pulled my blanket around me as I recounted last night’s show, how Celeste had begged me to come, how her singing affected me. “I...I can’t understand Misty anymore.” The words alone brought fresh tears to my eyes, though they burned and ached for respite. Misty pressed herself into my side.
Giselle’s face fell.
“Oh, Narcissa.” She pulled me into a tight hug and drew away, a deep crease appearing between her brows. “She found a new way of working her magic. I would have never imagined singing. How did she manage that?” Giselle seemed to be talking to herself more than to me.
I stared at my lap, my hand still buried in Misty’s fur. At least she was still with me physically. But I would never hear her talk again.
Father was right. The silence hurt. How could he ever bear to remove his magic voluntarily?
Giselle pounded her fist into her palm. “Cecelia, Celeste, whatever her name is, is obviously targeting you. But why? What is her purpose in all this?” She frowned at me. “Narcissa, we have to tell Crown Prince Bennett and King Maximus.”
I looked away. “They left last night. His Majesty made it clear he no longer needed my efforts.”
“What? What do you mean?” Giselle demanded. “This is important! She’s obviously involved with the rebels.”
I squeezed my swollen eyes. “His Majesty thinks I am an unwelcome distraction to the crown prince,” I said quietly.
I told her his suspicions that Bennett was under my influence and that we planned to go against his orders.
