Chapter 18 #2
I tightened my grip around my fork. “Shouldn’t you be happy that witches are allowed aboveground again?” I argued. “Grandma had a shop once. I only want what she had.”
“The best thing your grandmother did was found this village with the rest of her kind. That is the greatness you should be striving for. Despite what you may think, we are not welcome aboveground.”
“An herbwitch ended the Non-Magic Age. Olderea’s future crown princess is a witch. That’s progress!” I insisted. I couldn’t stop myself from arguing, even though I knew it wouldn’t lead anywhere.
“Those girls aren’t even from the village,” Ma said. “They’re meddlesome abovegrounders who can hardly be counted as real witches.”
“They are real witches! A witch is a witch, plain and simple.”
“They are not witches,” Ma said sharply. “They never had to flee for their lives. They never had to build a life underground. They are not witches of Olderea.”
“What about all the witches who lived before the Non-Magic Age?” I challenged. “Experiences don’t make a witch. All they need is magic in their blood.”
“It is a very human notion to believe that witches are only as good as their magic,” Ma said sharply. “Without our magic, we are utterly useless to them. We were banished because humans in powerful positions wanted to use our magic for their own gain, and we refused. That has always been the case.”
The history of King Humphrey and the start of the Non-Magic Age was well known to us, but history aboveground told a different story.
Two generations ago, the herbwitch Navierre, head of the royal inspection team at the time, was accused of attempted regicide.
But we witches knew the truth: the king had wanted Navierre to poison the nobles in his court who had grown too powerful for his liking, but Navierre had refused to use his magic in such a way.
King Humphrey had subsequently banished all witches and magic from Olderea, labeling us as wicked and dangerous.
His envy and power-hungry nature had caused years of suffering for witchkind.
But King Humphrey was only one human. Ma spoke as if all humans were as awful as the former king, which was beyond unreasonable.
I shoved another forkful of vegetables into my mouth, too angry to speak.
My eyes strayed to Grandma’s spot again.
She would’ve stood by my side up until Ma’s last point.
That was the only thing they seemed to agree on: that humans only wanted to use us for their own purposes.
I could talk in circles with her about it, but neither of us could convince the other.
“We’re glad you’re back, Giselle,” Pa said in his calm, hoarse voice after a tense moment of chewing and clinking utensils. I figured he was doing his best as a peacemaker. “Is there a particular reason you’ve returned? Has that committee dispersed?”
I shoveled a spoonful of rice into my mouth to avoid speaking immediately. I was too tired to explain the emissary assignment, and with Ma in such a mood, the topic wouldn’t be ideal anyway. I didn’t want to talk about my failed dress shop, either.
“I wanted to visit Christabella for a bit,” I finally said. “I’ll leave in two weeks. I still have work to do aboveground.”
“You’ll have to stay until the weather is back to normal. Then we can discuss what to do,” Ma said, as if I hadn’t spoken at all.
I sat up with a swell of indignation. “There’s nothing to discuss. I have work!”
“Whatever that committee wants you to do can wait. And there is plenty to discuss, like why you’ve brought three humans with you to the village,” Ma countered. “If you’re so desperate for work, our neighbors have mending they need done before the Harvest.”
Heat rushed to my face. “I’ve only brought two and it is none of y—”
“Why don’t we have some stew before it gets cold?” Christabella cut in with a nervous giggle.
I bit back a retort, knowing that whatever outburst that would ensue would be unproductive and draining.
After the meal was done, Sonny scampered off while Christabella and I began clearing the dishes.
Ma shooed us away, announcing that she could clean up herself.
When she disappeared into the kitchen, her muttered complaints about having to do all the work herself could be heard over the scrubbing and running water.
Pa patted my shoulder on the way to the parlor. “Thank you for sending funds, Giselle,” he said, then settled back into his armchair.
My mind was already whirring with plans and excuses for tomorrow so I could escape to Beatrice’s shack. Hopefully, Maddox was doing alright there. Even if all three of us had to live in that cramped shack, it would be better than staying here.
Christabella followed close behind me as I hiked up the stairs. My room was the first door on the second floor, coated in streaky teal paint. I pushed it open with a creak and entered.
The inside was just as I remembered. Floral wallpaper, a round window over the narrow bed, some storage shelves overhead, and my old desk in the opposite corner where I spent countless nights sewing.
Christabella skipped in and settled herself on the worn rug, leaning back into my bed frame. “Are you not going to tell Ma everything you told me?”
I joined her, pulling my knees to my chin. “What’s the point? She doesn’t listen to anything I say. Besides, it’s probably better she doesn’t know I’m carrying out a royal assignment.”
“Is your guard also working for them?” Christabella asked.
“In a way.” I told Christabella about Maddox’s position in the Royal Guard and his relation to Narcissa.
“So he’s practically a prince!” Christabella said with wide eyes.
I snorted. Maddox didn’t nearly have enough regal breeding to be a prince.
Chrissy hummed and rubbed her cheek. “Say, isn’t Greenwood a witch name? Maude Greenwood and her husband Manuel are weather witches.”
“Are they?” I asked, surprised. There were several witch families in charge of the weather enchantments in the village. I didn’t realize the Greenwoods were one of them. Ma never spoke of them, otherwise I would’ve remembered that detail.
“They’re in charge of the east weather tower. Heard they’re rather reclusive,” Chrissy said. “Is your guard related to them?”
“Must be. Maddox’s father, Captain Greenwood, was a witch, but he removed his magic and lived as a human for years.”
“Removed his magic? What a sacrifice,” she murmured. We sat in silence for a moment before she nudged my shoulder, her tone growing teasing. “So. Are you and Maddox together?”
“We are nothing of the sort.”
“Maybe if you weren’t buttoned to the neck all the time, he’ll pay you the right kind of attention,” Christabella sang.
I bristled. “It’s hardly the season for decolletage.
Besides, I don’t want that kind of attention from him.
” Sure, I tried to kiss him last winter, but that had been a passing infatuation and a very silly mistake.
“What about you, hm?” I said, turning to her.
“How did you become engaged to Alexander?”
It was Christabella’s turn to squirm. “A couple of months ago I was picking acorns from the oak tree. I lost my footing and Alexander caught me.” She sighed dreamily, then proceeded to wax poetic about how she never realized how handsome he was until she landed in his muscular arms. “Then he confessed that he had been in love with me for some time. On my birthday, he proposed.”
“And you said yes? Because you realized he wasn’t half bad to look at and he was in love with you?”
Christabella nodded.
“What else?”
She frowned. “What else is there? We’ll be married and happy. Not everyone wants to start a business like you, Gigi.” Her tone grew defensive.
I sighed, knowing many marriages were based on less. Ma and Pa had married for duty, to extend their family lines so witches didn’t die out shortly after the village was established. I didn’t even know if they ever liked each other.
“So...when are you going to tell Ma?” I asked.
“When the time is right,” Christabella said decidedly.
“Chrissy...” We both knew Ma would dig out the truth sooner or later, and it was better to fess up than be found out.
“Alright, after this whole weather debacle is over. When things are normal again.”
When things were normal again. That would be when Edmund, Maddox, and I went back aboveground. Who knew when I would see Christabella again? There was so much to tell her and so much more to share from the past nine months.
“I have something to show you,” I said, grabbing my satchel that I placed at my feet.
Christabella laughed in delight as I dug through it, my arm disappearing up to my shoulder. “You figured out the bottomless bag enchantment!”
“I did,” I said with a grin. I fished out the notebook, an overstuffed leather bound thing in which I kept track of my ideas and patterns, and flipped open to the page where I had doodled the first iteration of Narcissa’s wedding dress.
“That’s pretty,” Christabella said, looking over my shoulder at the sketch of the gown. It featured a structured bodice, floaty sleeves, and an elegant skirt made up of multiple flared panels.
“It’s the crown princess’s wedding dress,” I said proudly. Christabella’s eyes grew wide. The mockup had looked magnificent on Narcissa. “But I have to start over. My old landlady stole it.”
Christabella listened with rapt attention as I told her about my unceremonious eviction from Mrs. Lewis’s crumbling building.
Then of my meeting with Mr. de Clare, meeting Edmund, and getting the emissary assignment.
It felt good to talk about everything with Chrissy, who gasped and laughed at all the right moments.
“And now I have to work on another dress,” I said by the end of it. “The wedding isn’t for several months, but I’ll have to come up with something so Edmund can interview me for his fashion magazine.”
Christabella squealed. “Gigi, you’re amazing!”
***