I fumed.“You have no right.”
“I have every right,” Mrs.Lewis said haughtily.“It was in the contract you signed.”
My face grew hot again.“What contract?”I asked, even as I knew the answer.
Mrs.Lewis had provided a contract upon leasing—a custom I found rather odd as there were no such things in Witch Village.In the village, one’s word was as good as binding.A promise between witches was its own type of magic.I didn’t bother reading the dense text as a result and had signed it without a second thought.
And thereby allowed Mrs.Lewis to do whatever she liked to me.
Careless,I thought miserably.You really are just a foolish girl.
“Go then, before I call the city guard,” Mrs.Lewis said smugly.She knew the city guard would never take my side.My witch identity aside, I had willingly signed my own doom.
My feet felt rooted to the ground.This shop really was all I had.Luckily, my essentials were all in the bottomless satchel around my shoulder.If I had left it here, Mrs.Lewis would’ve claimed it.The hateful hag.
Before I could make my exit, the door burst open, nearly smacking me in the face.I stumbled back.
“Giselle, I came for—” Maddox stood at the door, his jaw going slack as he took in the state of the shop, disheveled and nearly empty.“What’s all this?”
Mrs.Lewis practically swelled with indignation as she brushed herself off.“I’ll give you fifteen minutes to get out of my sight,” she hissed at me, then stalked back to the stairs through the fitting room.It appeared she deemed Maddox important-looking enough to pause her tirade for the time being
The curtains had barely settled before I headed to the shelves to sweep anything useful left into my satchel—half-finished spools of thread, a packet of needles, a pincushion, a length of velvet ribbon.Better to take these now when Mrs.Lewis wasn’t watching.
Maddox stepped inside.“What happened?You didn’t get robbed, did you?”
“It seems I’m evicted,” I said curtly, grateful that my voice didn’t tremble.
“But your things...”
“Mrs.Lewis has a claim on everything and anything she likes,” I said bitterly, stuffing a yard of plain weave cotton into my satchel.
“That can’t be lawful,” Maddox said indignantly.“You should report her—” He made a move toward the fitting room, but I stopped him.
“Don’t bother.I put the nails in my own casket,” I said bitterly.Briefly, I told him about Mrs.Lewis’s leasing contract, embarrassment washing over me at my own ignorance.
“I’m sorry.”Maddox’s voice was earnest, and I knew his face would be too if I bothered to look.Why did he have to be so sensitive and serious when I didn’t want him to be?
I gritted my teeth, lest I gave in and cried.I stuffed the remaining knickknacks on the shelves and counter into my satchel.Maddox followed me to the back room.I tried not to notice the mannequin that no longer held Narcissa’s wedding gown.Mrs.Lewis had her gnarled hands on it now.On the floor, my cot was still laid out from this morning, the quilt a mess as I had left it.I knelt to roll it up.
“Do yousleephere?”Maddox said incredulously, kneeling beside me to help wrangle my sheets into my bag.“Why didn’t you tell me, or Narcissa?We could’ve gotten you situated someplace nicer.”
The back of my eyes felt hot.No.Not right now.
“Giselle.”
“What?”Instead of a demand, the word came out wobbly with suppressed tears.
Maddox squeezed my hand.“It’s going to be okay.”
The contact of his skin on mine brought back the memory of theincident.
Last winter, weeks after our initial acquaintance, we had run into each other at a tavern near the Grand Alevine Opera.I had just bought a new smoothing iron, and he along with a few other guards were indulging in food and drink.I indulged in the same.The music had been lively that night, and the air felt alight with possibilities; perhaps that was why I finally mustered up the courage to kiss him.
Maddox’s lips had been fuller than I expected—he always had them pinched together when he was on duty—and his hands, which had tangled in mine, were warm and rough.The kiss was heart-pounding and heady, and he had kissed me back.
Or at least that was what my drink-addled brain thought before he pushed me away.
He then stammered an apology and pretended it never happened the day after.
