17
“ S o? How was it?” Giselle asked as we rattled along the dirt road. The last spire of Huntington Abbey had disappeared behind the forest an hour ago. We set off early—the sun was just now making its appearance, streaming watery beams into the carriage.
I pressed my fingers to my temple, trying to fight down my nausea and headache. But no matter how hard my head pounded, it was nothing compared to the joy I felt knowing I’d never have to see Isabelle or Lady Huntington again. “How was what?”
“Dancing the night away with the crown prince, of course,” she said, flashing me a smile.
“We didn’t dance.”
Giselle made an exasperated noise. “Great. It’s not like I made you two matching outfits for a reason.”
Thick fir trees rolled past the window. “There’s more to this tour than making appearances,” I said, petting Pippin’s ears. He had insisted on riding in here, much to Misty’s chagrin. But currently she was asleep and couldn’t throw a hissy fit about his presence.
Giselle grunted. “Well, most of it is. It’s unlikely you’re going to personally visit every witch-owned shop in the kingdom like before. How did that go, by the way?”
I gave her a sidelong glance. “The crown prince didn’t tell you?”
“Not the gritty details,” she said. “Besides, from what Ulysses said, you handled it pretty well.”
Giselle, I figured, was not one to let go of a subject once she brought it up. I filled her in on our conversation with William, though reluctantly.
“My, my. If you weren’t going to be crown princess you certainly have a future as a business owner,” she said, pulling an embroidery hoop from her bag. “It was a good thing William was one of the nice ones, otherwise he wouldn’t have taken well to the crown prince’s suggestion.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. From what I knew, witches were known to be a passive people.
Giselle chuckled mirthlessly when I told her so. “It’s true. I don’t think we could’ve lived underground with each other for so many years if we weren’t. But there are bad apples in every batch, if you know what I mean.”
“Are there wicked witches? Like in the storybooks?” I asked, recalling the tales I heard from other children. Father read me no such things as a child. Mother never read to me at all.
Being the only magic-wielder I knew, I never considered myself wicked. That was no longer the case in later years.
“Some certainly have the potential to be. Perhaps that’s just as bad.” Her face darkened as if recalling some unpleasant memory .
I decided to pry. After all, there was a long journey ahead of us. “Did you know someone like that?”
“Once,” she said, bending over her embroidery. “Nasty child, that one. Used to play pranks on us witch children all the time by taking away our magic. She would only return it when my sisters and I chased her down.”
I blinked rapidly. “Take away your magic? How?”
Giselle shrugged. “She was a charmwitch who specialized in gathering substances. For example, she could take trace particles of gold from the ground and compile them into solid bars. Impressive, if she bothered to use it for good.”
“I didn’t know magic is a substance.”
Giselle unraveled a length of gold embroidery floss. “Charmwitches consider everything substances. They can be taken, manipulated, and returned—but never created or destroyed. This includes the intangible, like music or pain. Even hatred is a substance.”
I played absentmindedly with Pippin’s gingery fur, wondering what hatred looked like.
“Well, the point is she was a menace. Her mother was an herbwitch who sold potions that removed witch magic for good. Nasty business, but there was a demand,” Giselle said with a sigh. “I’m guessing she learned a few tricks from her. It was a shock to wake up without your magic. I wouldn’t recommend the feeling. Anyhow, the older folks always made her return it and apologize. But between you and me, I bet she didn’t care a whit.”
“What happened to her?” I asked. “And her mother?”
“Eventually, having them around just got to be too much. They were driven out by the rest of us. The two packed up and left the kingdom. Didn’t know how they managed, but I’m glad I never have to see her face again,” she said, tying off a thread. “By the way, when’s lunch? ”
A couple hours passed with mindless chatter, mostly from Giselle. Despite the distraction, she managed to finish a row of elaborate embroidery along a hem that was at least two yards long. At noon, we stopped at a forest clearing to refresh the horses and stretch our legs.
Misty awoke from her nap when Giselle took her leave. Oh. He’s still here , she said, green eyes narrowing when she saw Pippin on my lap.
Pippin rolled onto his back. Of course. Wherever you are, I’ll be there , he said. He gave Misty a look I figured was supposed to be flirtatious.
How annoying , Misty hissed. She leaped onto the forest floor. I’m going for a walk. Don’t you dare follow me.
Pippin rolled over again, fully intending on following her, but I held him still. Come on, Narcissa. How am I supposed to ignore that blatant invitation? he said, nudging my hand.
His round cheeks and pink nose made him ridiculously adorable, but I couldn’t have Misty mad at me.
“Give her some space, Pippin. After all, absence makes the heart grow fonder,” I said, smiling. “Come with me. I’ll find you something to eat.”
This seemed to perk him up as he eagerly scrambled into my arms. Lord Frederick helped me down the carriage, his whiskered cheeks flushed from the cold.
“The men are preparing lunch, Lady Narcissa. You may stretch your legs along the river in the meantime, if you wish.” Lord Frederick handed me a plain wool cloak. “Here. For warmth.”
I thanked him. We were in a sparse forest of pine trees, surrounded by frosty greens and dreary skies. A gentle slope led down to a narrow stream, where a few guards were watering their horses. The rest were setting out stools and building a small fire.
Pippin was disgruntled that food would have to wait, but was nevertheless content to remain in my arms. I made a few rounds around the clearing before venturing downhill. The river ran clear and free, rippling over the smooth stones at its perimeter.
Pippin meowed in delight. Looks refreshing! Let’s swim.
“You’re a strange one,” I said. Most cats would’ve taken one look at the water and bolted. I knelt and dipped a hand in, wincing at the icy bite. “Perhaps another time.”
Pippin nosed the stones. But –
I scooped him up and flicked a playful finger over his cheek. “Silly goose. It’s too cold for–”
I stood, startled to find myself face to face with the crown prince. My smile faded. Water droplets clung to his lashes in a rather arresting way, as if he had just splashed his face.
“Your Highness.” I curtsied as best I could with Pippin.
“Lady Narcissa.” Crown Prince Bennett wiped his face with the back of his hand.
I cursed my luck. I was hoping I’d be able to avoid him. Our interaction the other night was fuzzy. I didn’t remember what I said—only that I was too drunk for it to be appropriate.
The frost on the ground glimmered in the weak sunlight. A beat of silence passed.
“Do you like him?” the crown prince finally asked, gesturing to Pippin.
I paused, shifting the tabby in my arms. “Oh...yes. He’s a very sweet cat.”
The crown prince nodded .
I cleared my throat. “How was the—?”
“May I hold him?” Crown Prince Bennett reached out to take Pippin. I frowned at his interruption. Mayhaps he was unwilling to engage in conversation as I was. What had I said to him last night?
Someone’s eager to see you , I thought to Pippin as I handed him over.
Of course , he said, purring. I’m his cat.
Crown Prince Bennett slung Pippin over his shoulder and wiped his palms on his thighs, looking everywhere but at me.
Blazing fires. I had told him to stretch his thighs.
Odd that he didn’t look forbidding and disapproving, as I thought he would.
Luckily, we were spared from continuing our discourse. Maddox trudged over to me with a hunk of toasted bread and cheese wrapped in parchment.
“Lunch,” he grumbled. There were bags under his eyes, presumably from taking watch all night. He straightened and bowed when he saw Crown Prince Bennett. “Your Highness.”
Thoroughly embarrassed and having no wish to speak another word, I whirled around and hurried behind Maddox as he returned up the slope to a ring of guards around the fire. I knew it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to join them, so I circled aimlessly about the clearing before picking a dry spot a few paces away from the group.
I took my seat, leaning against the trunk of a wide tree and wrapping the cloak around myself. My arms felt empty without Pippin or Misty.
Chittering sounded from above. A young squirrel scurried down from a branch, tilting her head at the warm bread in my hands .
“Would you like a piece?” I whispered.
She nodded. I tore off a bit of crust and offered it to her. The squirrel grabbed it with tiny paws, chittered her thanks, and went off. I watched her go with some disappointment.
As I turned back to my meal, I caught Crown Prince Bennett’s eye. He still had Pippin, but he didn’t seem to be paying him half as much attention as he was me.
I ducked my head and bit into my bread, mortified to be seen without company. Had he seen my aimless wandering too? I tuned into the guards’ conversation, hoping to distract myself from his presence.
“...you all see that? I didn’t believe it at first, but now it’s undeniable,” a guard with a gravelly voice said. “He couldn’t wait to get his hands on that cat!”
“Someone ought to keep an eye on His Highness. I’m afraid the lad is severely disturbed. Poor Lady Narcissa.”
“Did you see her leave? She was practically running!”
“She couldn’t have known being the crown prince’s fiancée would entail such indignity.”
The gravelly guard chuckled. “If Lady Narcissa were my fiancée, I’d—”
A dull thud sounded and he groaned. “No need for violence, boy. At least let me joke a bit.”
“No more of your jokes, Thompson,” came Maddox’s hard voice.
“Oh. I forget you two are siblings,” Thompson said, sounding disappointed. He lowered his words to a whisper. “Say, do you think the crown prince kissed her yet?”
Someone snorted. “Not our Prince of Propriety.”
“He’ll have to during the wedding ceremony.”
“But it won’t be more than two seconds, that’s for sure,” Thompson said, howling with laughter until there was another dull thud. “Ow! ”
My face was burning by the time I finished my lunch and returned to the carriage. If that was what they thought of their future king, things were dire indeed.
Sister Scarlett’s Scandals had a readership prone to gossip and exaggeration, but if the members of the Royal Guard went about spreading such rumors, there was no saying what effect it would have on the tour.
Maybe Ulysses was right. I had to try harder. If not to win the crown prince’s heart, then to convince everyone else that I had.
After all, deceit was my strong suit. I played the duchess’s spoiled daughter all my life. This would be no different.