2
“ I am not going, Father!”
“Yes you are and that is final! Honestly, you’re acting like it’s a public beheading instead of a...”
I jerked up, squinting at the watery beam of sunlight slicing through my curtains. Misty was curled up next to me, unbothered by the shouting in the hall.
“Oh! Good morning, milady,” came a tremulous voice.
“Tizzy,” I said to my maid. She stood at the far corner, furiously wiping down the top of my vanity and avoiding eye contact. A stray curl popped out of her bonnet as she worked. I was too exhausted to dwell on the awkwardness of our relationship. Still, she was a great improvement from my previous maid, Karen, who was as unkind and selfish as could be. Perhaps that was why Mother chose her for me—to have near an example of what she wanted me to be at all times.
“What is going on?” I asked .
“Oh, milady,” Tizzy said, rubbing at a spot on the mirror, “there came a letter from the palace. Invitations to the Winter Solstice Ball, milady. Master Greenwood insists that Young Master Greenwood go and acquaint himself with the Royal Guard, but Young Master Greenwood is unhappy, milady.”
I rubbed my eyes. Father had made several attempts to get Maddox to join the Royal Guard since I moved in. None had been successful, but none had resulted in this much shouting.
“I see.” I eased myself out of bed, wincing at the ache in my neck.
Tizzy gasped when my blankets fell away. “Did you sleep in your day dress, milady?”
I looked down at my gravy-stained skirt. “It appears so.”
“Oh, this won’t do,” she said, setting the rag down. She rushed toward me, but at the last second, took a step back. “M-may I help you out of your dress, milady? And draw you a bath, milady?”
I wondered how “milady” hadn’t already become meaningless to her. “You cannot do both at once,” I said. “Go draw a bath. I’ll be fine.”
Tizzy bobbed a curtsy and scampered off to the washroom. I sighed.
Strange one, that is , Misty meowed.
THE SHOUTING DID NOT cease even after my bath. As Tizzy combed my damp hair, Lady Vanessa’s pleading voice joined the masculine bellows.
“You know how he feels about joining the Royal Guard, Maverick. It isn’t for him. ”
“Honestly, Vanessa. I cannot believe the way you are coddling that boy! He doesn’t want to join the Guard? Fine. What else does he want to do?”
“I...my love. Maddox just needs time .”
“He doesn’t need time, he needs a purpose! Listen here, boy. If you are not spending your time more sensibly next month, you’ll have no place in my will!”
Maddox barked an incredulous laugh. “Good heavens, Father. Last time I checked we are nobility. How could you disown your only heir for not slaving away like a commoner? What about Narcissa? Doesn’t she need a purpose?”
Tizzy lifted my hair away from the nape of my neck. I stiffened. My witch traits—the mark of a possessor of magic—marred the spot in a smattering of golden birthmarks. It was the reason I never wore my hair up and always made sure to conceal that area with powder. I stopped after Father took me in, but it still garnered whispers from the abbey’s staff.
At least Tizzy had stopped fainting at the sight of it.
“I just want Narcissa to be happy,” Father said.
My half-brother laughed again. “And you don’t want me to be happy? Ever since that witch came you’ve been treating me like dirt.”
“Maddox, please,” Lady Vanessa pleaded.
“Can nobody see that?” he demanded. “Mother, I do not know why you are supporting this. That witch must be using her magic!”
“You will not speak ill of witchkind, Maddox,” Father growled, his voice dangerously quiet. “ You are half-witch. Do you condemn yourself? Do you condemn me?”
“I don’t have an ounce of magic. You made sure of that when you rid us both of those cursed powers!” Maddox shouted. “That seems to be the only decent decision you made in your entire life!”
The thud of a boot striking the stone floor reverberated in the hall. “We are all going to the ball. Maddox, you will meet with the other members of the Royal Guard and be happy to do so. That. Is. Final.” Father’s heavy footsteps faded away, leaving shocked silence in their wake.
“Gah! I can’t believe him!”
“Your father needs time to cool,” Lady Vanessa said. “And so do you. Join me for tea?”
“I’m going for a ride.”
Another set of footsteps stormed off, followed by a quiet sigh.
I sat still as Lady Vanessa left the hall. Father’s last words swirled in my head. We are all going to the ball.
Did he mean me as well?
I turned, taking the ivory comb from Tizzy’s hands. “That is enough, Tizzy. You’re dismissed.”
“Yes, milady.” The maid bobbed several curtsies and scampered off, no doubt to tell the rest of the staff what she overheard.
Misty sauntered over from the bed and leaped into my lap. I stroked her midnight fur on impulse, trying to calm my heartbeat.
Your first appearance in society after switching allegiance? Misty said. That’s going to be interesting.
“Second,” I corrected. My first was the engagement party Amarante invited me to all those months ago.
The faces of the other guests were enough to convince me never to emerge from my room again. There was nothing quite so humiliating as being the jewel of high society, then having everyone witness my downfall. How was I supposed to act in the presence of those same people half a year later?
And even worse—how would the royals treat me? The palace had been my second home growing up. The last I saw of them was the masquerade ball that changed everything. King Maximus hadn’t even summoned me when he decreed me as Father’s ward. He wanted nothing to do with me, I was sure.
Calm yourself, darling. You know I like being pet slowly, Misty meowed.
“Father can’t possibly expect me to go to this ball,” I said, setting down my comb with a clack.
Talk to him. You know he’ll do anything for you.
Misty jumped to the carpeted floor as I stood. Tizzy had left, so I was stuck dressing myself. After throwing on a simple gray gown and a wool spencer, I opened my window.
The garden was just below. I knew Father frequented the fountain when I wasn’t there. It was where he and I used to play when I was a child.
I threw my legs over the windowsill and eased myself out. My damp hair grew icy against my neck as I traversed the lawn, ducking behind a rose bush when I passed the gazebo where Lady Vanessa took her tea.
On the other side of the garden, Father sat on the stone bench before the tiered fountain, his head buried in his hands. His figure was nearly drowned by the white blooms around him.
I hesitated. I hadn’t spoken to him much since I arrived, and now I was only doing so because I wanted something. Guilt warmed my cheeks. It was bad enough I was the smear on his reputation as a loyal, upright guard. What right did I have demanding things from him on top of that ?
“Do you remember when your favorite kite got caught in that tree, Cissa?”
Father had removed his hands from his face, his gaze fixated on the maple tree behind me. The branches were bare now, but I could easily recall a time when they were thick with fiery orange leaves. The same shade as my hair, as Father used to point out.
“You called for the pigeons to get it for you,” he said, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “You named them too. Periwinkle and Gossamer, was it?”
His words resurfaced the memory of a pink silken kite and a pair of sassy pigeons.
I gave a weak laugh. “That was the day I learned not to do that.”
Wild creatures found it highly offensive when people named them, whether humans or witches. The two were one and the same, for all they cared. A name labeled them as domestic—something undesirable in their world. Needless to say, the pigeons never returned to the garden.
Father chuckled and shook his head. “You were only eight. And with such control over your magic! You didn’t even need an enchanted object to help you along.”
Being isolated from witchkind since I was born, I hardly knew that witches my age needed enchanted objects to keep their magic under control. I doubted that Father could have acquired one for me, anyway.
I meandered over and sat next to him on the stone bench, ignoring the cold seeping through my dress.
“I reckon you heard everything this morning?” he said.
I nodded.
Father heaved a sigh. “Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I kept my magic...and your brother’s. What if I told Vanessa I was a witch instead of Wilhelmina? ”
“Father...”
“I was a charmwitch, did you know? Cleaning spells and protection charms were my specialties. Fellow guards were jealous how my sword gleamed brighter than theirs and how I never got a scratch during training,” he said, gray eyes alight with amusement. They faded as he looked down. “The day you were taken from me was the day I decided magic was too dangerous to have outside Witch Village. That woman...I know she made you do terrible things.”
I did not recall the exact day Mother took me under her care. I just knew I never visited Father again, and I was not allowed to call him Father even when I saw him at the palace. The time I spent playing was replaced by Mother’s experiments. She wanted to see what I could do. And more importantly, how she could use it to her advantage.
Most days took place in a small room with caged animals. The first time, I forced a snail to crawl into a bed of salt. The second, I made a fish jump out of a bowl of water. I left that session with the fish stuffed under my dress, scales and all. I had promised to return him to the pond.
Unfortunately, he did not survive the trip.
Coercion was not my true magic, but I let Mother believe it was. She would not have cared for my ability to converse with animals.
I shut my mind to the memories as Father plucked a white bloom from the bush next to him. He spun it between his fingers. “I would have removed your magic too. There was enough sickleweed potion left for you after I gave Maddox his dose, but I couldn’t bring myself to take something that gave you so much joy.”
“Sickleweed potion?”
“The herb itself looks quite similar to this,” he said, pushing the bloom around on his palm. The petals were crinkled and white, like pieces of organdy. “In small doses, it’s good for removing jinxes or spells. In a concentrated form it strips a witch of their magic entirely. Painless and quiet, said the herbwitch who sold it to me. She didn’t tell me the silence would hurt.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Don’t be, Cissa. It was my decision.” Father smiled mirthlessly and flicked the flower away. “My only decent decision, as Maddox said. Maybe he is right. Vanessa would have divorced me on the spot if her son started shooting sparks out of the blue.”
“I don’t think so.”
Father wallowing in misery unsettled me. He had done nothing but smile in my presence the moment I moved in.
“Thank heavens the boy was a late bloomer.” He studied his hands, brown and weathered from training. “I wonder what his magic would have been.”
We sat in silence for a minute, listening to the rustling of the heather bushes and the chirping of the chickadee.
“Well, Cissa, now you know a little more about this old man’s life,” he said in a lighter tone, patting my shoulder. “All we can do is move on, eh? The Winter Solstice Ball will be a fresh start for both you and Maddox. We’ll show that our family is bigger and stronger than ever, despite everything.”
I parted my lips but closed them when I saw how his eyes shone. It would break his heart if he knew I cared less about this family than he did.
“When is the ball?” I asked at last. Misty said Father would do anything for me, but I was not so selfish as to let him.
He smiled. “Five days. There isn’t time to get you fitted for a new gown, but I am sure Vanessa has something suitable for you to wear,” he said. “After all these dreary months you can finally mingle and have fun. It will be a nice change, yes?”
Every fiber of my being protested. “Quite.”
Father sighed. “I was worried you wouldn’t want to go,” he said, giving me a sidelong glance. “It’s worse enough with Maddox. I need at least one of my children to make a good impression.”
If he knew the truth, he would be sorely disappointed. But Father didn’t need a hermit daughter and a sluggard son. The least I could do was appease him and endure a three-hour ball.
I returned to my room afterward, numb as the tips of my ears. Misty looked up inquiringly and I let my thoughts—a jumble of words and images—flow into her mind.
Do you think you made the right decision then? Misty asked. I couldn’t discern whether she was impassive or disapproving.
“Perhaps,” I said, sinking onto the floor, “this is one of my only decent ones.”