23
“ S traighten up, Narcissa. You are slouching,” Mother said, circling me. The click of her heels echoed in the cavernous room.
We were in an empty ballroom. The space was lit by a soft pink glow. I looked down. A dress of scarlet satin drowned my body, glittering with rubies.
“The ball is tonight,” Mother continued. “You must dazzle. Stupefy. Entrance.”
She lifted my chin with her fan, staring at me with her hard, steely eyes. “Very good,” she murmured as I stood, frozen in perfect posture. My ribs were constricted as if Mother had tight-laced my corset. She only did that for the important balls, where our appearance mattered most. “You will rip the hearts out of every nobleman in the room.”
“But Mother,” I said, my voice barely a whisper, “I don’t want to.”
“What you want does not matter,” she barked. Her face softened when my eyes blurred with tears. “You are a vision, my dear. You will rise to greatness as I did at your age.” She stroked my cheek, pinching the flesh between her fingers. “Even more so, if I can help it.”
Mother released her hold, but kept her hands outstretched. I watched in horror as they became drenched in blood, splattering onto the marble tiles. The hem of my gown deepened into crimson.
“No.” I stumbled back. “I don’t want this.”
“You do not have a choice, Narcissa. We are bound by blood,” Mother said.
I ran as her words reverberated around the ballroom. The tiles slipped beneath my feet and disintegrated. I fell into my chambers at the palace, the walls and windows distorted. Amarante knelt before me as I carved my initials into the back of her hand, blood red.
I felt frozen in my own body, sickened as it performed such cruelty upon another.
“Cruelty is a weapon, dear girl,” Mother crooned into my ear. “Use it and no one will dare hurt you.”
“Stop!” I sobbed. “Stop it!”
Suddenly, I was left with nothing but darkness. Ice seized my limbs. I whirled around, grasping at nothing.
“M-Misty?” I called out, desperate for warmth.
I stumbled forward. A familiar alleyway materialized before me, crowded with wagons of decaying produce. The palace dumping grounds. A tiny kitten cowered between two heads of brown cabbage.
“Misty!” I reached out, but she hissed and darted away. My heart constricted. This wasn’t right. She was supposed to leap into my arms, then together we would go to the kitchens to sneak a piece of salmon.
We swore to be together forever .
But I was alone, surrounded by mildewy brick walls. I collapsed onto the rotting vegetables and wept.
Stop being dramatic. I’m here, a voice echoed.
The alleyway disappeared. Pillowy warmth enveloped the top of my head and whiskers tickled my cheek.
Sleep well, darling.
Then, it was blissfully quiet. No visions of Mother plagued me. Sounds of murmuring voices and rustling emerged occasionally from the lulling darkness. Someone brushed my hair back. A damp towel stroked my cheek, followed by a lingering brush of soft lips on my forehead. Cedar and spices hung in the air. The scent was familiar, though I couldn’t put my finger on why.
A door slammed faintly, followed by a woman’s voice.
I can’t believe you let her run off like that. What were you thinking?
I didn’t know she was going to put herself in danger, another voice responded. It was soft and deep and comforting. I wanted nothing more than to sink into it.
Of course, no one knew that! But you let her believe you thought the worst of her when that letter came.
But I never thought—
Has anyone told you, Your Highness, that you have a brick for a face?
Giselle, please. The man sounded pained. I tried to reach out and comfort him, but my limbs did not respond.
You need to be more upfront about your feelings. What if something horrendous happens again?
The towel and the scent of cedar disappeared, and so did the voices.
After an unknown period of time, I drifted back into consciousness. My eyelids were heavy as I took in the seafoam green wallpaper. I was back in my room at Lady Marianna’s manor. Misty slumbered peacefully near the window.
A loud snore came from the doorway. Maddox slouched against the wall, a string of drool pooling from his open mouth. I made a face.
My rustling bedsheets awoke him. “You’re awake!” Maddox wiped his chin and came to my bedside. “Don’t move. The physician said you might reopen your wound.”
I touched the bandages on my neck. “It’s only a scratch, isn’t it?” I croaked. My mouth felt like sandpaper.
“A little deeper than that,” Maddox said, grabbing a bottle of tonic and strips of linen from the bedside table. “Turn around. I have to redress it.”
I turned and moved my hair aside with some hesitance. My witch traits marred the spot behind my neck. Only Tizzy had seen it so far, and her reaction hadn’t been the best.
Maddox said nothing, however, and uncapped the tonic. I winced at the sting as he wiped my wound clean.
“How long have I been asleep?” I asked after downing the glass of water he offered me.
“Two days. The physician says you were overexerted,” Maddox said. He blew a breath. “Narcissa, you almost got yourself killed.”
“You would’ve liked that a month ago,” I said, discomfited at the concern in his voice.
“No. I wouldn’t have.” Silence pervaded as he took out fresh bandages and dressed my wound. “I...didn’t mean a lot of the things I said,” he muttered.
I began to turn my head, but thought better of it when my wound pulled. “Not even when you called me a cold-blooded snake demoness? ”
Maddox cleared his throat. “You heard that?”
“That and more.”
“Oh,” he said. “Well, no. I was just angry.”
The sky was white beyond the rain-speckled window, the time of day indiscernible. I looked down.
“Why were you angry?” I said. “You have a loving mother and you’re Father’s legitimate heir. My presence didn’t change any of that.”
Bottles rattled as Maddox put the supplies away. “I suppose. But I have to work for Father’s approval,” he muttered. “He loves you unconditionally.”
The bedframe creaked as I shifted to face him. Maddox glared at his hands, which was crisscrossed with several new scars. From sword training, no doubt. “I didn’t know you felt that way,” I said awkwardly. After a beat, I added, “For all it’s worth, I apologize.”
He rubbed his face. “Don’t. I was a hateful idiot.”
I smoothed the wrinkles from my pillow, hoping to bring levity to the conversation. “So, you don’t abhor witches with all your being?”
Maddox smiled mirthlessly. “I didn’t trust them entirely. I suppose that was amplified by your presence, but no, I don’t. Not to the point of setting fires.”
I thought back to the flax farmer who had held me at knifepoint. “Where are my clothes from the other night?”
He jutted his chin to the pile of sooty fabric beside the medical supplies. “Looks like they didn’t have time to launder them.”
Despite Maddox’s protestations, I eased out of bed and dug through the pockets. My hand met the slip of paper. I unfolded it eagerly.
“‘Come see star soprano Celeste Carr at the Grand Alevine Opera in Ode to the Moon. February twenty-eighth, midnight’,” Maddox read from the flier in my hands. He raised his brows at the illustration of a dark-haired woman sitting on a crescent moon.
I put it down in disappointment. “This came from the woman who held me hostage. I thought it would tell us more about the rioters, but...” I sighed.
“Don’t worry about that. Lord Frederick is investigating the rioters,” Maddox said.
I began to ask if Lord Frederick had decided what to do with me, but stopped. Maddox didn’t seem to know about the incident with Mother’s escape.
“I’m hungry,” I said instead. “Get me something to eat.”
He frowned. “That’s not how this works. I’m the older one. I get to boss you around.”
“But I’m bedridden.” I coughed twice to emphasize my point.
Maddox rolled his eyes.
News that I was awake spread immediately after his departure. Lady Marianna came first, bearing a tray laden with food. After fussing over me for some time, she let me tend to my meal, though I had barely gotten through the soup before Ulysses rushed in. There was no sign of the crown prince behind him.
“Thank goodness, milady,” the steward said, wringing his hands. “Those in the witch market were asking after you. They’ll be glad to hear you’re awake. I’ll have someone relay the news.”
“Never mind me. How are they?”
“Not to worry. King Maximus has already agreed to give them extra funds for reconstruction. Half the guards are down there helping with immediate relief. His Highness has also gone to help.”
I nodded. I hadn’t even considered what the aftermath of the fire would be like. At that moment, I only cared about proving myself. What would have happened if I didn’t succeed? I squeezed my eyes shut. “I’m sorry I ran off.”
Ulysses shook his head. “I’m not sure if what you did was extremely stupid or extremely clever. Look.” He took out a newspaper clipping, a recent column from Sister Scarlett’s Scandals .
The Herbwitch Princess: Seductress, Martyr, Hero.
January twentieth, at Vandil’s city hall, Lady Narcissa locked Crown Prince Bennett into a passionate embrace before a crowd of astonished spectators. After this shocking display, the two were spotted touring the city’s witch market, thoroughly enjoying each other’s company. Our to-be princess has managed to win the crown prince’s affection in a mere moment armed with nothing but her womanly allure—but that is not all she has done to surprise us.
A devastating fire tore through Vandil’s witch market that same night. Rather than enlisting the aid of the Royal Guard, Lady Narcissa flew down to put out the fire herself, accompanied by no one but a team of horses and one particularly handsome guard. Whether he, too, was captivated by her is up for question. But after single-handedly dousing the fire, Lady Narcissa was captured by a rebel rioter who threatened her very life. An anonymous passerby claimed she did not struggle.
“She was standing very still,” our source said, “as if she was going to accept whatever came her way. Even death.”
Lady Narcissa was close to becoming the first Olderean martyr, and though her sacrifice would have been a great honor, Crown Prince Bennett would not have allowed the heroic woman who had enraptured his heart to be taken from him.
“The way he held her after the whole ordeal was nothing I‘d ever seen,” our source added, shaking his helmeted head in wonderment. “It was like she was the most precious thing in the world to him.”
I threw the clipping down in disgust. “Ulysses, I do not understand why you insist on showing me the worst column in the paper. And someone ought to tell the guards not to lie in press interviews, or engage in them at all.”
The steward gave me a look. “Gossip columns have a tendency to exaggerate,” he said briskly, taking the clipping back.
I stirred the remnants of my soup, watching the herbs spiral in the clear amber broth. “It doesn’t matter anymore, does it? King Maximus will retract the engagement in a week at most.”
“Whatever for?” Ulysses said.
“My mother attempted an escape and wrote to me. Lord Frederick thinks I’m scheming with her. And so does Benn—” I paused. “His Highness.”
Ulysses lowered his spectacles. “Are you sure?”
“I...no,” I said. “But why wouldn’t they?”
“Ask them,” he said calmly. “Perhaps you will find you’re wrong.”
He left before I could argue. The soft blankets weighed heavily upon my legs. Why wouldn’t they think the worst of me? The citizens of Vandil did. Lady Huntington and Isabelle did. Lord Frederick and Bennett were only being merciful, letting me heal from my injuries before taking me to the dungeons. That was why I was still here.
Misty woke when I finished my meal, meowing in delight when she saw me awake. She jumped into my lap, rattling the tray. I hugged her to my chest, her presence chasing away all negative thoughts.
You’re an idiot. I told you not to go , she said amidst purring.
I kissed her head. “I’m sorry I left you,” I whispered.
Misty nuzzled my chin. We are back together. That is all that matters.
We chatted a bit after and I finally asked her about her friendship with Pippin, which she willfully refused to elaborate on. It wasn’t long before we were interrupted by yet another visitor.
Lord Frederick came in, his steps hesitant. “Are you feeling better, milady?” he asked.
“Better than before,” I said. I felt relatively energized from the meal, though everything still ached.
A beat passed before Lord Frederick met my gaze. “What you did was admirable. Those at the witch market say they owe you their lives.”
I turned away. He couldn’t possibly expect me to accept his compliments. “We both know I only went down for selfish reasons,” I said, steeling myself. “What better way to prove I’m not a villain than to barrel straight into a fire like a self-sacrificing hero?”
It sounded worse out loud.
The stool beside my bed creaked as Lord Frederick sat. “Whether it was selfish or selfless does not change the good you have done,” he said. “Intentions can evolve indefinitely. Results are concrete, unchangeable.”
I gave a dry laugh. “In that case why does it matter if I win the crown prince’s heart for nefarious reasons or by chance? Ulysses will be happy and I’ll have done my duty either way.”
“Because, Lady Narcissa, intention is the soul of an action. It doesn’t always determine whether the result is good or bad, but it establishes character.”
“And what if your character is already established for you, Lord Frederick?” I asked, recalling the way he acted after Mother’s letter. “If what you say is true, no one can truly understand another’s character if they don’t reveal their intentions.”
Lord Frederick gave me an appraising look. “You’re right, milady. Only one can truly understand oneself. But some have lived their whole lives following somebody else’s legacy. Whether they choose to continue or break free is entirely up to them.”
I was starting to find the conversation rather convoluted.
“Well, Lord Frederick. Am I going to remain engaged to the crown prince or has His Majesty sentenced me to the dungeons?” I said falling back onto my pillows.
He broke into a smile, a twinkle appearing in his eyes. “Seeing that I haven’t dragged you off in chains yet, it is the former.”
“Why?”
“Why?” He raised his brows. “I meant what I said, milady. I wasn’t accusing you of anything that night. And neither was His Highness.”
After a beat of silence, Lord Frederick put a weighty hand on my shoulder. “I know what kind of person the former duchess is, Lady Narcissa. You are not to blame,” he said firmly. “Not for any of it.”
I watched him leave, touched by his kindness. But the warm feelings dispersed quickly. Even if Lord Frederick was convinced of my innocence, I doubted the crown prince was. I struggled to remember how Bennett had reacted that night, but the memories were blurred. I had been too wrapped up in hurt and anger and fear. Fear that Mother would be true to her word and come for me.
The rest of the day was dedicated to more visitors. Giselle, after insisting on switching out my plain pillows for embroidered ones, chatted incessantly about a new riding gown she was sewing. Maddox came back with Flannery, who burst into tears and babbled about how incompetent he was as a guard. After Maddox dragged him away, Prince Ash attempted to read me a book of poetry he had written. I feigned exhaustion to get him to stop.
But as the sky darkened and my eyelids grew heavy, I found myself fighting sleep.
Mayhaps you’re waiting for a certain someone? Misty said slyly, making herself comfortable beside me. The flickering candlelight made her dark fur gleam.
“I’m sure the entire manor has visited me at this point,” I said.
But the strange, gaping emptiness I felt said otherwise. Was he still down in the witch market ?
Misty looked at me knowingly. He did visit, you know. He was a very tender caretaker during the two days you were unconscious.
I blew out the candle with more force than necessary, throwing my blanket over my head. “I’d rather be unconscious for twenty days than hear you speak nonsense.”
DAYS AT VANDIL EVENTUALLY drew to an end. The guards who had split off to help the witch market returned once workers from Delibera came to replace them. Still, there was no sign of the crown prince.
Pippin, unlike his owner, decided to accompany me during the last day.
It’s awful stuffy in here , Pippin said, strolling in through the door.
I folded a chemise and put it in my suitcase. Lady Marianna would be horrified to see me packing my own things, but mundane tasks seemed to calm me more than laying around in bed.
“You’re more than welcome to wait outside with Misty,” I said, straightening the sheets. The guards were already reassembling the procession for the journey to Alevine, carrying provisions and leading the horses out in the courtyard. Misty had followed, wanting fresh air after so many days of bedrest.
Pippin jumped on top of the bedside table and surveyed the room. That does sound tempting. But I thought I’d pay you a visit after not seeing you for so long.
“I’m perfectly fine, as you can see,” I said, holding out my arms. I had regained my energy the day before and the cut on my neck had scabbed over nicely. “Now run along. I’m sure Misty will enjoy your company.”
Pippin nosed the opera flier that lay discarded beneath him. Smells like lemons , he commented, yawning. He padded onto the mattress. I’ll be honest—I am in desperate need of attention. Bennett has been awfully glum lately. He won’t even look at me.
Little did Pippin know we shared the same problem.
I supposed Bennett was busy drafting reports about the situation and helping at the witch market. But others had already taken over the job. He was back to distrusting me, like the past months didn’t even happen.
Well , Pippin said crossly, are you going to pet me?
I indulged him with a thorough belly rub. Soon after, Lady Marianna came with servants to escort me outside.
“It was lovely having you, dear. Although I wish events could have turned out differently near the end,” she said, giving me a rueful smile.
I thanked her earnestly and bid her goodbye, realizing that I would miss her motherly affections. Her attentions hadn’t been unlike Lady Vanessa’s, if I had bothered to accept the latter.
The courtyard was dark and slick with rain, though some spots were already evaporating in the sunlight. Vandil and Coriva had rather mild weather, but once we reached Alevine, it was sure to grow colder. A few horses nickered as I passed, thanking me for the extra sugar cubes they had received in exchange for their heroism.
When I opened the carriage door, I was surprised to see Maddox, Giselle, Misty, and Pippin crammed inside.
“Has anyone told you how vile you smell?” Giselle asked, scowling as Maddox rearranged his sword .
“Has anyone told you how naggy you are, woman? First you insult my clothing, which by the way, I have no control over, and now—”
“Narcissa! There you are.” Giselle held out a hand to help me up.
I seated myself gingerly between Pippin and Misty, who sprung apart at my appearance. “What are you all doing in here?”
“Lord Frederick says the journey to Alevine will take two weeks of traveling,” Maddox said. “It’ll be better if you had a guard near at all times. Not to mention, Alevine is even more anti-witch than Vandil.”
“Is it?” I asked, gathering both cats to my sides.
He nodded. “That’s what Ulysses said. It’s the furthest from Delibera, so most people there don’t care for royalty. You’ll have to be extra careful once we arrive.”
I raised my brows. “Look who’s taking their job seriously.” It seemed only yesterday he was complaining about losing his freedom.
Maddox’s ears reddened as he struggled to come up with a retort.
Giselle smacked his arm with the glove she was embroidering. “Don’t hurt yourself,” she said breezily. I wondered when they had a chance to become so familiar. “Anyway, we’re here to keep you company. It’ll be great fun.”
Maddox scoffed. “Assuming you stop nag—Ow!”