The Cursed Princess

Chapter 6 Not a Witch

Pain shot up through my feet as if I were walking on shards of glass, but I couldn't stop.

I never should have listened to Teal, nor should I have let her go home alone.

The herbs Teal used to help me with my fever had a dark history. They were once associated with witches—people believed witches had used them to curse the kingdom, causing droughts, famine, and wars that nearly tore the land apart.

The Crown Prince's intervention had ended those claims, and since then, the royal guard had hunted witches to near extinction.

Nobles and commoners alike feared and despised anyone accused of witchcraft.

If they branded Teal a witch, they'd have no trouble killing her.

With my hair a wild mess, I stumbled into the dining room, where Josephine was gleefully ordering the maids to drag Teal away.

I charged forward, shoving the maids aside with all my strength.

"Stop it! Let her go!"

I planted myself between Teal and them, shielding her with my body. "The herbs were for me. Do you want me to die?"

A maid folded her arms, her gaze icy. "Only witches use herbs like that. We have to cast her out."

"Teal is no witch; she only wanted to help."

I looked around the room, catching Josephine's mocking smirk from the corner. She covered her mouth, stifling laughter as she watched the scene unfold.

I took a step forward, but Teal clung to the hem of my dress, her tearful eyes pleading with me to stay silent.

I gently freed my skirt from her grip, reassuring her with a pat on her head. "Don't worry. I'll prove your innocence."

Josephine sneered at me openly. "How disgusting. Aren't you the cursed princess, after all? And now you're defending a witch. No wonder your parents left you behind; you're as pathetic as you are stupid."

Ignoring her, I turned to the head housekeeper, Maggie. "I'm the rightful heir to this estate. I don't consent to expelling Teal. She did nothing wrong; she only wanted to help me."

"A princess, huh?" Josephine scoffed, her eyes dripping with disdain. "You're nothing more than a castaway. Look at you—filthy as a beggar. Even if you stripped down, not even the stable boys would care to look your way. And you still think you're royal?"

My chest tightened, my heart pounding so hard I could barely breathe.

I stared Josephine down, my gaze blazing with anger.

"Josephine Trisler, you're disgracing the family name. Does the name Trisler mean so little to you that you would bring shame upon it?"

I stepped closer, my eyes locked on hers. "Go ask your father who built this estate. You feed on my suffering, live comfortably off my pain, and yet trample on my dignity. Who gave you that right?"

Josephine stumbled back, her eyes shifting away, though her face still held an arrogant smirk. "Anne, stop dreaming. You were abandoned a decade ago. Has anyone from Reysland ever come to see you? Has anyone even cared if you're alive or dead? You're nothing more than a stray dog, a discarded nuisance. You're meant to rot on this godforsaken wasteland."

The next second, I slapped across her face, my chest heaving with rage.

She staggered, clutching her cheek in disbelief, her face twisted with fury.

"You dared to hit me? You crazy b***h! Are you barking mad?"

Josephine shrieked, launching herself at me with surprising agility, her plump figure practically bouncing as she lunged.

Her slaps came down in a flurry, relentless as autumn leaves in a storm.

I kicked out, barefoot, scraping her shin and leaving behind a trail of blood.

A sharp pain stabbed at the back of my head. I reached back to touch it, and my fingers came away red.

Just as I turned, I saw Josephine's maid, Grace, charging toward Teal.

Without thinking, I ducked to the side, and Josephine, having misjudged her aim, tumbled over my head, crashing squarely into Grace. They collapsed into a chaotic heap.

"What on earth are you doing?" Isabella's shrill voice cut through the noise as she swept into the room, gripping her skirt in both hands.

Her eyes blazed as she pointed an accusatory finger at me. "Anne! How could you do that to your cousin? Our family uprooted itself to Northtown just to take care of you, and this is how you repay us?"

Settling into a chair brought over by Maggie, she glared down at me, her face flushed with rage, her powdered cheeks trembling as bits of makeup dusted her lace collar. She looked more like a clown than a noblewoman.

Josephine, now standing with the help of a maid, began sobbing.

"Mother, she's protecting that maid... that witch!"

"What?!" Isabella bolted up from her seat, her gaze snapping to me. "Anne, are you harboring a witch? Are you trying to get us all killed?"

"I..." I tried to explain, but she silenced me with a wave.

"Be quiet! Josephine, tell me everything." Clutching her daughter's wrist, she pointed at the maids huddling in the corner. "Who is it? Who is the witch?"

I stared hard at Josephine, silently pleading for her to spare Teal.

Josephine, however, lifted her hand and pointed directly at the figure beside me. "Mother, it's her—Teal."

I pulled Teal behind me, shielding her. "No, she isn't! Teal only went out to find herbs for my fever. She's not a witch."

Isabella didn't even listen. With a cold nod, she signaled to the maids to take Teal away.

"You've truly disappointed me, Anne." Her glare turned sharp, cutting through me like ice. "I've been far too lenient. Now, go back to your attic, and don't let me see your face again."