Chapter 23 Of Bargains and Wicked Witches
Chapter twenty-three
Of Bargains and Wicked Witches
Hansel and Gretel were unfortunate enough, as some children are, to be born to a father unworthy of the name. What they did have, however, were two things: courage and each other.
-Tales from Meridea, Volume II
The sun draped over her skin, spraying warmth over her arms and caressing her hair.
She’d slept in several comfortable beds over the course of her life, but this was the best. Silk draped over her and cocooned her in a perfect nest that smelt of sweet cinnamon mixed with fresh lavender.
The white cotton comforter pulled up to her chin.
It’d be easy to stay there all day. All she needed was a good book and–
It was an ice storm over her body as her mind jolted awake. Brielle. She only needed a good book and Brielle, but this was not her bed, and Brielle was miles away in another bed, dying.
Heart pumping erratically in her chest, Luci sat up much like a startled animal.
Her eyes darted to the oversized chair next to the fireplace that was still burning with well-nourished intensity.
There was no prince sleeping in it like there was when she’d fallen asleep.
They’d gone to bed in relatively good moods.
It hadn’t even been awkward when he insisted she take the bed and he the chair. She might have argued with him, but she was tired and slightly drunk. It felt like a good solution, even if she was just a servant and he a prince. Though last night it hadn’t felt like that at all.
Spoiled, entitled, and more clueless than he should have been– he’d listened to her.
Together, they brainstormed plans while each took turns poking holes in the integrity of each one.
What they’d been left with was actually a good plan.
A fair distribution of resources with a renewed sense of community for an entire kingdom.
It was a good plan.
Something that could change everything for countless people not reliant on fairytales and hidden magic. It was something real.
It was hard to erase his crooked smile and disheveled hair when he’d leaned back in his chair across from her and run his hand over his face. The wonder in his voice when he said it was a solid plan. Exhaustion crept at the corners of his eyes, but when he lifted them to hers–
She forced a breath out and rubbed at her chest.
Brielle. She needed to get ready, and they needed to leave. The sun was high enough that it’d probably risen over an hour ago. That was time lost. What if they were thirty minutes too late?
Within moments, she was dressed in a new riding dress of dark navy, her black hair braided and pinned to the back of her head.
Checking her reflection in a round, gold-rimmed mirror near the door, she realized she missed her blond hair.
She’d never been attached to her hair one way or another, but the dark-haired woman who stared back at her wasn’t the woman she’d always known.
The darkness made her skin too pale, washed out. Her eyes shone too bright against the contrast. Truly, she looked like something that recently crawled out of a grave. How much longer until she could look in the mirror and see herself once more?
How long would this charade last?
If, when they returned, and Brielle got better, would she continue with the engagement?
A pull in her stomach unsettled her. Dread.
If they truly did marry, Brielle would have to be like this forever if she wanted to stay by Brielle’s side.
It made nausea boil up in her chest. Pressing the back of her hands to her lips, she sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes.
It didn’t matter.
If Brielle was happy and alive, it didn’t matter.
She could endure anything if those two facts were true.
Even if her stomach didn’t agree, she would force it to.
Midnight knew Brielle would do a lot of good as a queen.
Ira had the makings of a good king, but with Lyra at his side, he would be great.
A royal couple worth a thousand stories.
With an uneasy stomach and a dread deep in her chest, Luci stepped out into the inn. The hallway smelled of fresh lemon and bergamot, making her wonder if Agnes cleaned. With how well she kept the inn managed, it wouldn’t have surprised Luci. The real question was, though, where was Ira?
They needed to leave and not waste any more of the sun’s light. As Luci turned the corner of the winding stairs, Agnes came into view, nestled behind her front desk, a small smile on her wrinkled face while she wrote carefully onto cream pages.
Kindness radiated from her without her even trying. It was in the gentle curve of her lips and the lines at the corners of her eyes and at her lips. Lines that Ira already wore. A sign of a happy life.
When her boots hit the dark wood at the base of the stairs, Agnes glanced up with a small sound breaking from her. She recovered gracefully from it, placing a gentle hand to her heart.
“I didn’t use to startle so easily,” she chuckled. “I suppose that’s aging.”
“I’m sorry for scaring you,” Luci murmured, scanning the entryway.
No sign of stray princes.
“He’s in the dining room.” She said, “That’s a good man you have there.”
Her lines smoothed out as her lips faded, as if she wanted the words to mean more than just a compliment. Except the words weren’t for her, regardless of the lie Agnes believed. He wasn’t hers. That pit in her stomach opened a little further.
“He is a good man,” Luci whispered.
Agnes tilted her head to the side, smile faltering altogether. She moved around the counter and reached for Luci’s hands that were currently rubbing together.
“What is it, dear girl?” she asked.
Luci shook her head, but for reasons unknown to her, there began a burning in her eyes. It was just a worry for Brielle, but it wasn’t the time for tears. Sniffing loudly, she forced a smile.
“I’m fine, just not a morning person,” Luci said.
At least that was the truth. She was sick of lying to Agnes and to Ira. The best she could do was to be honest about everything else.
Agnes patted her hand.
“How long have you two been married?” Agnes asked.
Midnight, that resolve lasted a whole minute. Luci supposed that was the thing about lies, though. One lie begets another and another until it was a web that could trap anyone who happened by.
“Not long,” she said.
Agnes nodded her head and threaded her arm through Luci’s, directing her to the dining hall.
“It’s normal to feel overwhelmed in the beginning.
The Blue Fairy herself knew I loved my husband more than air itself, but in the beginning days of our marriage, I wondered if I made a mistake.
I never told him out loud, but sometimes I’d lie awake and wonder if I stole him from a greater love or if he would tire of me and my ramblings.
Finally, it got so bad that I was losing weight, and that didn’t suit him.
So he worked up his nerve, and he asked me if I was regretting him, and if so, he wouldn’t hold me to nothing.
Sweet girl, when I tell you I stared at that man like he was a giant pumpkin turned carriage from the stories.
Before I knew it, we were both laughing at how ridiculous we were.
We agreed to never keep secrets from each other.
Even if we thought it was the silliest thought in the entire kingdom, we agreed to share it.
I’ll tell you right now, a burden shared is a lot less heavy. ”
By the time she was finished, they’d neared the entryway to the dining room, but Agnes stopped just before it, eyes rimmed with silver even through the smile on her face.
“I’ll tell you one more thing before I save you from the ramblings of an old woman. I can tell when two souls belong together, and you and that boy sing for each other. There isn’t a doubt in my mind.”
The pit in her stomach was now a cavern of darkness, swallowing anything that dared to venture too close. Her ribs, her lungs, her heart. They all fell victim to the despair racing through her. Consuming her.
Lying wasn’t something she enjoyed, especially to kind old ladies who trusted easily.
There was nothing she could say that wouldn’t feel like disrespect, so she nodded gently and swallowed back the thickness in her throat.
Maybe if it were only the kind words of a well-meaning old lady, it wouldn’t have slammed back into her and ruined what little was left of her control, but it wasn’t just the old lady.
As soon as she turned into the dining room, she wished she’d done anything else but that.
Sitting at the same table they’d occupied last night, Ira was leaning forward, chin propped up on his hand, elbow resting on the table.
All his attention was on the little boy across from him, who was shoveling in bites of eggs, bacon, and toast in between sips of orange juice.
Ira laughed and gestured to the orange ball of fur sleeping at the end of the table near the boy. The boy set down his fork and ran a hand over Calcifer, whose eyes squinted tighter, no doubt purring loudly.
“That’s Cochran. He’s a good boy who’s gone through a lot. His Mama passed away this past winter from a fever. His Dad’s been doing as good a job as someone can, but the boy forgot how to be a child these past few months. I’ve certainly not seen a smile like that on him since Yule.” Agnes said.
He turned his head towards Calcifer, and sure enough, there was a smile over a dirt-caked face. His hands and nails were black as well, and Luci realized it was the boy they saw when they first came into the village.
Ira let loose a loud sneeze, one after the other, for a grand total of three.
Luci shook her head and noted the red around his eyes. No doubt he’d carried Calcifer down there himself.