I felt pity for him.
Leonard had lost his mother. He was blamed for the massacre of the royal family his own blood. And yet, he wore no emotion, only silence. That kind of pain must burn.
"Mi'lady," Lydia said gently, "shall we show you around the castle?"
I nodded, brushing off the thoughts. My maids helped me into a sky-blue gown, soft and floral, with tiny petals embroidered at the edges. My long black hair was tied back with a ribbon the color of ice. They smiled, and for a moment, I almost smiled too.
The castle was quiet, but not empty. It breathed. Every corner seemed to whisper. The walls held stories I hadn't yet read, and the gardens though fenced by thorny hedges bloomed with not just bellflowers, but dozens of rare blossoms I had never seen. The sunlight cast golden trails through the leaves.
"Your Highness."
I turned. A man with ginger hair approached. His face was angular, his red eyes warm and elegant.
"I'm Jeremy," he said, bowing gracefully. "Royal advisor to Prince Leonard."
I raised a brow. I thought no one else lived here.
He smiled lightly as if amused by my doubt. "Your husband sent me to get you."
I glanced at my maids. They nodded with quiet trust, and something inside me relented. I followed Jeremy out of the castle.
A tall black horse waited by the gates.
Before I could object, he lifted me gently and seated me on the saddle. Then he climbed behind me.
The woods thickened around us, sunlight barely slipping through the branches. And then...
A haze.
My vision blurred.
My limbs weakened.
The wind sounded distant.
I let my eyes close.
⸻
"Your Highness," Kate whispered, bowing before Leonard.
He stood like ice, expression unreadable.
"Where is she?"
"Sir Jeremy took her to you," she replied nervously.
Leonard turned.
Jeremy was right there. Standing beside him.
Alive.
Whole.
Still.
Leonard's expression shattered.
Without a word, he turned and stormed from the castle. He let out a sharp whistle, and the sound echoed into the trees. A black horse galloped from the shadows.
Leonard leapt on.
And vanished into the woods.
⸻
I woke with a thunderous ache in my head.
My body screamed in pain as I shifted. I tried to move but my leg burned like fire. I blinked slowly, adjusting to the dark.
Where was I?
Rough stone walls. A dirt floor. The air smelled damp and metallic.
"Ah," a voice said, low and silken. "You're awake."
I turned toward the door.
A woman stood holding a lamp. Her long blonde hair shimmered like glass. Her crystal blue eyes gleamed with curiosity as she stepped into the room.
"Who...who are you?" I croaked.
She smiled, but something about it wasn't right.
"Cecilia."
She knelt beside me, brushing a lock of hair from my face.
"Why am I here?" I whispered.
"Because," she said, "you're special."
Her words cut deep. I froze.
Special?
The memories rushed back like a crashing wave.
Jeremy. The horse. The woods. My eyes closing.
"You... that man he wasn't the real royal advisor!" I gasped. "You tricked me! You—"
I bolted upward, but pain shot through my leg.
A sudden whistle broke the air. Then something sharp pierced my thigh.
An arrow.
I screamed, collapsing to the ground as blood soaked through my dress.
Cecilia laughed.
"Oh dear," she said playfully. "You really thought you could run?"
I clawed at the stone wall, trying to breathe through the agony. But she grabbed my hair and yanked me back. My scream echoed in the dark.
She dragged me across the floor like I weighed nothing.
Then she threw me. I hit the wall hard. My shoulder cracked against stone, and my vision went black and white with pain.
"Why...?" I whispered. "Why are you doing this?"
She leaned close.
"Because I'm a witch."
Her voice changed deeper, older, chilling.
Her eyes turned black no white, just endless voids. Her tongue slithered out, long and serpentine. Her skin began to scale, black patches forming like rotting armor. She was no longer beautiful. She was horrifying.
I froze.
"A...a witch," I gasped. "You're a witch—"
I remembered the stories.
The old books in my family's library.
Witches who hid behind beauty. Who used magic to deceive and destroy. Women burned at the stake for less.
"You're the key," she whispered. "The only one who can bring back the forbidden spirits. You're going to help the witches rise again."
I stared, speechless.
Me? Why me?
"I'm just... just a human," I murmured.
She chuckled.
"No," she said. "You're not."
And with that, she stepped back into the shadows. Her skin turned smooth again, her voice soft. "Someone will bring you food. Rest well, your highness."
The door shut behind her.
The room fell silent.
I collapsed onto the floor, shaking, bleeding, and alone.
Tears burned down my cheeks.
This couldn't be happening.
My parents had married me off and abandoned me. My husband hadn't come for me. And now, I was locked in a witch's prison.
Was this how I would die?
⸻
"Wake up."
A small voice broke the stillness.
My eyes fluttered open.
A boy, maybe ten years old, stood by the door holding a tray of food. He had shaggy brown hair and blank, tired eyes.
He didn't speak. He didn't smile. He simply placed the food on the ground.
"Wait," I called.
He turned.
I stared at him, weakly.
"Why... why am I locked up here?"
The boy tilted his head. For a moment, I thought he'd walk away. But he didn't.
"You're not what you think you are," he said softly.
Then, without another word, he left, shutting the door behind him.