A Witch's Word

HIGH TEA AND TREASON

Breathless, Lou pulled the maid servant that Edith had seen in the queen’s chambers into his princess’ bedroom. His mistress’ room was dripping in condensation, and the room was muggy, pushing his endurance for heat to a new limit. Crouched at the fire, Edith was spooning a navy-blue liquid into a phial with careful precision. Many of the other servants criticised Lou for serving a witch, but his loyalty was so profound that he ignored how they made protective gestures over themselves when he rushed by them. Superstition and distrust of witches was one of the reasons he had struggled to get the maid to his mistress. Eventually, he had to resort to the threats of curses to convince her to follow him.

Despite her clammy palms, Edith pushed the cork into the decorative container and turned her attention to her arrivals. Lou looked at her with fascination, whereas the maid looked as if she was about to faint. It might have been beneficial to her plans if she did. It would certainly give her more time with the queen. Alas, it wouldn’t improve her reputation as a dark conjurer, which she had heard whispered in the halls.

“Good morning, thank you for joining me. I need two things from you. Firstly, I need the key to Queen Loma’s room, then I would like you to arrange a tea with some sandwiches and cake. We will have a lot to discuss.”

Frantically, the maid thrashed her head from side to side. Her skin paled and legs tremored as she struggled to stand: to run. Edith knew that she would have to call on her least favourite discipline of magic. Narrowing her eyes, she felt her vision double, the outer vision was of the room but slightly blurred, her inner vision was sharp. Within the maid’s mind, Edith could see her fear like an ink spill spreading across her senses as it expanded. Moving past it, Edith roamed around every memory as if she was in a private art gallery, cherishing the images that were formed by the woman in her thrall. One more push. She delved further into her mind and watched from the inside out as the maid lifted her hand and delved into her pocket. Gently, she urged the maid to comply with the thought that Edith had put in her mind. One slip and the innocent girl would never be the same. It was such delicate magic. Intrusive magic. Thrusting her hand forward, she offered the key to the Queen’s room, and Edith took it. The image of a tea pot brewing was dropped like a sugar cube into the maid’s mind, before Edith made a subtle retreat. Peacefully, the maid rose and brushed off her skirt. She wasn’t aware of what had happened, only that she had the good idea of making a high tea for Queen Loma, certain that the offering would tempt her queen to eat. By the time she was slicing the bread, she couldn’t remember how she got to the kitchen, only that she was happy to be there.

Beneath her dress, Edith could feel her eye tattoo stinging, perhaps staring at her in judgement. Without checking, she knew it would be visible, having used the skill, it had made her glamour weaker, but it was a justified intrusion, she told herself. Lou reached over, handing her a glass of water. Gulping it gratefully, she took a moment to study his expression.

“Are you afraid of me, Lou?”

“No! You are more powerful than you would have people believe though, aren’t you?” he asked.

Trusting him went against everything Maggie had told her all her life. To keep her power hidden, to take advantage of the ability to surprise her enemies, trusting her judgement, she decided to tell Lou everything, because if she knew anything about this palace it was that he may be her only confident.

“I’m the most powerful witch in five generations. What I just did was obtrusive, but for that one use of power I’m hoping I can help the queen, and then, by doing so, help Novtexo. I’d never hurt people who didn’t deserve it and by doing that to her, I will be able to protect her from King Nokon’s wrath.”

Taking a moment to reflect on her words, Lou considered all she had done so far. This was an act of treason, but to have Queen Loma well again would help to restore the kingdom to its past glories. She had been humiliated, belittled and criticised, but had never retaliated. She must have felt so alone. He realised at that moment that she had trusted him, perhaps he was one of the few people she had ever trusted. A new boundary had been forged in her confession. Embracing her, he felt as if she was a sister more than a high lady, and the change fit well for them both.

“I’ll check on the high tea, while you commit treason,” he joked, leaving Edith to put her plan in motion.

Edith’s hands were damp from clinging onto the rail as she climbed the twisted stairs. Her potion felt heavy in her pocket, and by the time she reached the final door, the key clanged against the lock before biting onto the metal and giving way. The door clicked behind her, and she could see Queen Loma huddled in her black blanket staring into the fire as if jealous of the warmth she could not feel. Sitting next to her for a moment, she took her time to study the absent queen. Her eyes were wide, searching and unfocussed. Occasionally, she would mumble words that didn’t make sense, the syntax was spewed and twisted. Cautiously, Edith reached forward to touch her hand and offer comfort, but unexpectedly she was submerged in the same vision she had when she discovered the nursery. The dragon bellowing in the sky and the mother atop screaming for the daughter who was already out of her reach. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the potion she had been nurturing all night, delivering its maximum potential with her careful coaxing. Popping the cork out, she lifted the mixture to Queen Loma’s lips. Trustingly, she sipped it slowly until the last drop had been consumed. Minutes seemed to stretch into disproportionate opportunities for Edith to second guess herself. Precipitously, the grip on her hand became tighter, like a swimmer who takes a much-needed gasp of air.

“Kaiza?” She whispered, the name as fragile as cracked glass.

“No. I’m Edith…I’m your son’s wife…”

“Cadmus.” She interrupted; his name laced with love.

Gesturing to the seats, she helped the queen to her feet and started to explain the last twenty years as simply and concisely as she could. A chiming, clinking, clacking cacophony of delicate tea-cups shouldered against each other and alerted the two women to the arrival of the refreshments. Edith helped to open the door, and the maid served the tea and food, encouraged to see the queen she had cared for, after all this time, helping herself to food that she had previously avoided was heartwarming.

“You best tell the King and Prince to join us,” Edith told her, hoping they would look past her actions and focus on the results.

For the first time, the maid bowed lowly to the princess, before leaving them.

Queen Loma was thankful for the tea that seemed to taste better than it ever had and the food that was chasing away some of the hunger she had imposed on herself. Even the biting cold was ebbing away slightly. The strange girl sitting in front of her, her son’s wife, was a unique curiosity. She seemed unassuming and young, but power exuded from her, daring to be challenged and the fact that she had clearly sought her out without permission was a testament to her tenacity.

“Do you know where my daughter is?” Loma asked her, unsure if she had already asked once.

“No. I can use a location spell to try and find her though. I just need something meaningful. The blanket I found in her nursery only holds a minimal amount of her imprint,” Edith explained.

Cautiously, Loma reached down to the shawl she had left on the floor.

“This is the blanket she had when she was taken. I swapped them over so that Nokon wouldn’t know. He wanted to create a mausoleum from the nursery, and I needed to keep her alive in my mind. I always wondered if she was cold wherever she had been taken to for there is no territory as warm as ours, and they hadn’t thought to wrap her up. The nursery being frozen is the way my husband deals with our loss. As if he could suspend time and recover all the years that were robbed from us when she returns. I may have been ill, but I can recognise that things will never be the same. I’m sorry for the death of your grandmother. I respected her greatly, but I was too hindered by my despair to stop Nokon, and he was too blinded by his rage to see the error of his decisions.”

It was the only apology she had ever received, and for the first time, the flicker of forgiveness allowed itself to form. Instead, she reached out and placed her hands above her mother-in-law’s.

“I will try to find her with this blanket next. Maybe I will be more successful.”

The door slammed open with a frightening force as King Nokon filled the frame with undiluted fury. The claws of his dragon were scratching at the outside of the tower, digging into the stonework. Both creatures’ eyes were set on Edith with loathing and a hunger for retribution.

“Take your hands off my wife, you f*****g witch!” he roared.

Stepping into the room, it seemed to condense around him as his temper suffocated them. His finger was pointed directly at Edith as he advanced towards her, but Edith’s focus was elsewhere. It was equally locked on her own husband, who was scrambling behind his father to race towards his wife. For a moment, Edith allowed herself to consider the possibility that Cadmus’ feelings may be genuine, and that there was a chance that he could learn to love her despite the hatred for each other that they had been reared on.

“There’s no need for that husband. She has restored me, and we owe her a debt. More than I had realised if she knew what your reaction would be like,” Queen Loma interrupted his diatribe.

Immediately, Nokon paused and considered his wife. There was a little flush in her cheeks. In fact, they seemed far less hollow. Her body, although still horrifyingly thin like skin draped around a skeleton, seemed stronger and, given how she had a pastry pinched between her fingers, he was willing to assume that she would look healthier in due course. However, the most noticeable difference was to be found in her eyes. Previously, when he looked into them, he always felt like an intruder inside a home that wasn’t his. The way she returned his gaze was everything he had longed for since he lost her and their daughter. When she looked at him, he felt like home was welcoming him back. She was his refuge after being displaced for so long. Before he had acknowledged the shift in his temperament, he had his wife in his arms, and it felt sweeter than he could have ever imagined.

“We need some time. Leave us!” He called out without looking around the room.

The soft click of the door was the last sound they heard, before their weeping joined together in a long-awaited lament.