Chapter 5
The next morning with my thread supply secured, I took five minutes to knot a quick charm out of twine and two brassy beads, meant to attract wealth.
The charm was simple, requiring minimal magic.
I’d gotten into the habit of making one per week, and occasionally I would stumble upon a coin in the streets.
It wasn’t much, but every little bit helped.
After tucking it into the waistband of my skirt, I skipped out to call for a horse chaise to the palace.
***
NARCISSA TURNED TO the right, then left. “It’s...a little breezy, isn’t it?” she finally said.
The hem of her wedding gown, instead of hitting the floor as I intended, hung about two inches above her ankles.
“Could’ve sworn I wrote down the right measurement,” I muttered miserably.
In my eagerness, I had forwent making a mockup on the skirt and cut straight into the lavish silk satin.
Alas, it was far too short. Piecing another strip of satin at the hem would not yield the luxurious results I wanted. The skirt would have to be redone.
That meant buying more fabric. But that would have to wait, as I had given what I had on hand to Miriam yesterday.
Narcissa gave me a reassuring smile. “The wedding isn’t for another five months and you’ve made far more lavish gowns for me in less time.”
“Those gowns weren’t as important,” I grouched.
“The bodice is lovely,” she said, smoothing her hands over the mockup as she gazed at her reflection in the gilded three-paneled mirror set in her receiving room, which was currently serving as a fitting room.
The bodice fit her like a glove, the seam lines flowing snugly along the curves of her torso.
Gauzy, off the shoulder sleeves cascaded down to her wrists.
I admired her for a moment, barely able to hold back a sigh of appreciation. I had always longed to sew for a princess as a child; for Narcissa to be my first client was fortunate indeed.
“Is it comfortable?” I asked.
She raised her arms, though they only came about a quarter way up. “It’s hard to move,” she admitted. “Though I don’t suppose I’d be raising my arms very much during the wedding.”
“No. But maybe for dances. And toasts. Which are all weddings are.” I heaved a sigh, whipping out my seam ripper. “Hold still. We’re starting over.”
Narcissa protested, but didn’t move away as I unpicked the wide basting threads holding her sleeves to the bodice. The cotton gauze slid down her arms. She let me remove them in silence, though I felt her studying me as I stuffed them into my satchel.
“Maddox tells me business has been slow,” she said.
“He should mind his own.”
“Are you two fighting?”
“Of course not. I have better things to do.”
She hummed. “Maddox says Jeraldine’s Dress Emporium has been doing exceptionally well lately. Some of her clientele think she was the royal seamstress instead of you.”
Maddox seemed to notice far more than I gave him credit for. I didn’t let myself decide whether I was flattered or annoyed.
“My work can speak for itself,” I said with a sniff.
“I know it can. But a little help wouldn’t hurt, no?” Narcissa prodded. “What became of your interview at Blanche de Clare?”
Narcissa had offered me all sorts of assistance, including a royal grant and speaking to the press on my behalf. I knew one word from her would set me right in every way, as would the extra funds—but I was stubborn, determined to make it on my own, no royal association necessary.
Just skill and hard work in my arsenal, like I had meant to set out.
Only I had succumbed last month, when I had asked her to send a note to Blanche de Clare.
“It didn’t go well,” I murmured.
Narcissa pursed her lips. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Don’t be. It’s a welcome challenge,” I said with more gusto than I felt. “Now about these sleeves...”
I rummaged through my satchel, pulling out a square of gauze. I ran gathering stitches through either end and pulled them tight, creating a voluminous puff in the fabric. I set it on top of Narcissa’s shoulder, assessing our reflections in the mirror.
“What do you think? Shall we do short puffed sleeves or forgo them entirely?”
Narcissa shrugged. “I don’t have a preference.”
“It’s your wedding dress! How can you not have a preference?”
“I’ll like anything you make for me.”
It was a very touching answer—and an equally frustrating one.
“Shall I ask your cats, then? Or His Highness?” I tossed the mock sleeve in the air, letting it tumble softly to the lush carpet.
A knock came at the door then. A smooth voice said, “Cissa? Can I come in?”
Narcissa’s face lit up at the sound of her fiancé’s voice. “In a minute, darling!”
I shot her an accusing look. “Did you invite Crown Prince Bennett to your wedding dress fitting? And when did you start calling him darling?”
A pretty blush stained her cheeks, fit for a damsel in a fairytale. I always thought she was made of sterner stuff. “Bennett wanted to speak to you about something and this was the only available time in his schedule.”
“Very well. We’re about done anyway,” I said warily. What did he need to speak to me about?
I hauled a floral privacy screen around Narcissa, making sure she was properly concealed before I gestured for a maid to open the door.
Crown Prince Bennett stood at the threshold, his head turned to another figure in the hall, his low voice drifting in. “Please remember to check in with the treasury, Ulysses. I ran the numbers last night and the bookkeeping isn’t adding up.”
“Yes, of course, Your Highness.”
The crown prince nodded to his steward, then entered the room. Although he was as impeccably dressed as always, his usual stoic face was replaced with a smiling one. And on his shoulders was...a hideous fur shawl?
“Blazing fires, are kittens in fashion now?” I recoiled as the fur moved, revealing itself to be two cats, one gray and one ginger. Two black ones trailed behind him. They were larger than when I’d last seen them, now six months old.
“Darling, you brought the kittens?” Narcissa cooed from behind her screen.
“Of course, love. Iris, Lumi, Rani, and Daffy never pass up a chance at visiting you.”
The cats meowed in affirmation.
I blinked twice, wondering how two of the iciest people I’d encountered last winter managed to become such gooey, kitten-obsessed messes.
“Giselle. It’s good to see you,” the crown prince said, looking a modicum more like himself now that he wasn’t addressing his fiancée.
“Likewise, Your Highness,” I said, inclining my head.
He sat in an armchair and motioned for me to take the seat across from him. I sat. The two kittens took this moment to jump from his shoulders and wander the tiled floor with the others.
“I have a job for you.”
Oh dear. That didn’t bode well.
“If it’s not sewing related I’ll have to decline,” I said. “As you can see I’m rather busy.”
That was a clear lie, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t like what was in store. I was done doing royal bidding, though I would never have the guts to tell the crown prince that.
“You haven’t even heard what it was,” Narcissa called out from behind the screen.
I crossed my arms and leaned into my seat. “Very well, Your Highness. What is this mysterious job?"
“One relating to our current situation,” Bennett said. The ginger kitten climbed up his pant legs into his lap. He obliged it with a soft pet to the ears.
The black kitten mirrored its sibling. It dug its tiny claws into the hem of my skirt.
I sighed, shooing the cat away before it tore the fine wool. “And that is?”
“Many human citizens are still nervous around magic, even after the amendments to our laws,” Narcissa called out from behind her privacy screen.
Bennett cast an adoring look in her direction. “Yes. Narcissa and I are thinking about immersion as a solution. We believe opening Witch Village to human visitors would be beneficial.”
My brows shot up. “What does the Witch Committee have to say about that?” I asked, hoping my peers would have the sense to call out the absolute sacrilege of it all.
The elder witches would be scandalized. They were the ones who had to live through the devastation of King Humphrey’s witch ban and build Witch Village from the ground up. The village was their sanctuary. To invite a human in their midst would give them all heart attacks.
“It’s still in debate,” the crown prince admitted, “which is understandable.
But the committee has allowed us to send one non-magic visitor.
The emissary I chose will live there for two weeks, hopefully ease the worries of witches in the village, and report back to the King's Council about his experiences. The report will then be released to the press, allowing human civilians to further understand their witch counterparts.”
“I doubt the King's Council would be pleased about that either,” I mumbled.
“We’ll have to convince them, of course,” Narcissa chimed in. The rustle of silk sounded as a maid disappeared behind the screen to help her change.
I turned back to Crown Prince Bennett. “So what do you need me for?”
“I need you to be the tour guide. And house our emissary, if possible.”
My jaw clenched. No. No. No. Anything but that.
“Any witch from the committee could be a guide,” I said calmly.
“None will be as qualified as you. Your family plays a significant role in Witch Village. Your grandmother was one of its founders, correct?”
I swallowed. Heavens. Grandma could have stayed a secret. If she were still alive, she’d certainly sentence me to tying a hundred hemp knots for her charms as punishment. Or perhaps two hundred.
“The visit will be a quiet affair,” the crown prince continued. “I just need you to show our emissary around the village and help him get settled.”
“I beg your pardon, Your Highness, but dragging a stiff old man around my hometown as he writes reports does not sound the least bit appealing.”
“Our emissary is not an old man.”
“Everyone who is anyone seems to be,” I grumbled.
A frown pulled at the corners of Bennett’s lips. Even I knew there was only so much of my impertinence he would tolerate. “You will be paid, of course.”
“Double my wages as the royal seamstress and a member of the Witch Committee combined,” I said, knowing that the number was ridiculously high. There was no way he would say yes.
A beat of silence passed. I barely mustered a smirk of victory before he said, “Done.”
I gaped. Good heavens. Maybe my wealth charm worked a little too well.
When I found my voice again, I said, “Your Highness, I can’t. I have a shop to run, and not to mention Narcissa’s wedding dress to sew. If you need a witch to show some nobleman around Witch Village, you’ve got a whole committee at your beck and call. There’s nothing I can offer that they can’t.”
Narcissa emerged from behind the privacy screen and joined us, the sage green silk of her day dress rustling. Crown Prince Bennett’s expression softened at the sight of her.
“We trust you the most, especially after last winter.” She bent to pet each of the kittens, who all clamored for her attention. “Besides. My wedding gown can’t take you that long. You’ve made dresses in less than a day.”
“Look, as flattering as that sentiment is—”
“Consider the offer. I’ll have my steward come to you in a week’s time. Make your decision before then,” Crown Prince Bennett said as three cats reascended his shoulders. He scooped the last ginger one from the floor. “Come, Daffy.”
He nodded at me, then gently kissed Narcissa’s hand before exiting.
I stared until the last cat disappeared into the hall. “He can’t be serious.”
Narcissa tilted her head. “Is Witch Village that bad?”
“What makes you say that? It’s as perfect as we witches could make it.”
“You seem reluctant to return. Was it not good to you?”
“Of course it was. I had food and shelter and family,” I said stiffly. “But I doubt your emissary is going to find it very interesting.”
“The issue isn’t lack of interest. It’s fear,” Narcissa said, her brows furrowing. “Bennett and I need to show the King's Council that witches are nothing like they assume. Prejudices run deep, and we need one of their own to change their minds.”
“Like the crown prince? He is marrying you after all.”
Narcissa shook her head. “I’m not what comes to mind when the council thinks of witches.”
“But you are a witch.”
She gave me a pointed look. “I wasn’t raised like one. For all they know, I’ve only been one for a year.”
Of course. Narcissa was first and foremost a lady, appearing as human as they come. But me? I was a charmwitch of Witch Village, as authentic as they come.
There wasn’t a day I wasn’t reminded of that.
I walked over to the platform again, retrieving the abandoned mock-sleeve from the floor.
“But why do you need me specifically?” I argued, even though I knew exactly why.
They expect me to have things under control if any scuffles broke out, I thought bitterly. It was the reason I got accepted into the Witch Committee in the first place.
I stuffed the scrap of fabric into my pocket.
The maid in the room came forward with a silken pouch. Narcissa took it from her and offered it to me.
“Consider it,” she said. “Here’s your payment.” It jingled, the satin sagging with the weight of my upcoming rent and then some. She then produced a copper coin from her pocket and pressed it into my hand.
“Are you bribing me?” I said, forcing a smile. “That’s not very princess-like.”
Narcissa smiled back, though hers was genuine. “It’s for your ride back.”
I took the coin, turning it in my palm. It was polished to a high shine, one side stamped with the royal insignia, the other, the Greenwood crest—a sword before an oak leaf.
Was it that obvious I didn’t have money to spare?