The witch had set her laboratory at the collapsed wing of the palace. There, the fresh musk was fed by the morning mist and intertwined with the stoned walls like a woman embracing her lover. There was no ceiling over her head so she could feel the warm of the sun as well as the fresh of the rain or the strength of the wind in the middle of a storm. She felt closer to the nature this way. Few witches agreed to live within the enclosure of the big walls of a castle or a palace. However, her mate didn’t think the same. He loved to wake up every morning in his king-sized puffy bed, call the servants to bring breakfast to his room and go sit on the golden throne that represented his victory over his enemies. The woman couldn’t understand his reasons but she didn’t dare to go against his wi
