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“I don’t think he does,” I admit. “At least, when we spoke of you, he didn’t say that he’s met you.”
“I can imagine that to be so,” she smiled, still focused on the task at hand. She looked somehow pleased with herself, as if she had been waiting for a long time to say this but was waiting for the right moment to do so. “But kings rarely remember the little people they harmed on the way to climbing up the throne and conquering dominions.”
“Harmed?” I asked, surprised. “Did Father harm you in any way?”
“Oh, not me,” she shook her head. “But his army did attack the village I lived in, a long time ago, and in that battle, my grandmother died.”
“Oh, my goodness,” I gasped, pressing my hand to my lips. “I… I don’t know what to say… I am so sorry. I’m sure that Father didn’t mean to.”
She frowned, stopping her fingers. “What do you mean, he didn’t mean to?”
“Well, if the village surrendered, there wouldn’t be any casualties,” I explained. “That is at least, what he tells me.”
For a moment, I thought my words had offended her, but she smiled instead. “There is no right or wrong side in a war. They are both wrong. Those who attack shouldn’t be attacking. Those who defend themselves shouldn’t be put in a situation to have to defend themselves in the first place. But that is all water under the bridge, my dear.” She continued with her picking, placing bare twigs on one pile and the dried-up leaves in the jar.
Somehow, I wasn’t that assured by her words. From the way she was speaking, I didn’t get the feeling that it truly was all water under the bridge. I glanced at the door.
“Waiting for your friend?” she asked, immediately noticing my gaze.
“Yes,” I nodded, trying to hide my fear, which was slowly rising like the oncoming tide. “He should have been here by now.”
“I’m sure he is fine,” she spoke, not looking up at me, but instead intently focused on her efforts.
“Yes, me, too,” I nodded.
A sense of unease settled upon me. The witch, with her piercing gaze and ancient wisdom, seemed to know more than she let on. And with this story of Father, I knew that there was a specific reason why she was mentioning it now, and not before.
“He seems very good at being able to take care of himself,” she spoke up again, this time, her eyes seemed to pierce right through me, delving into the very depths of my soul. Her gaze left me feeling vulnerable and exposed. I tried to hide this sensation as much as I could, but hiding anything from a witch was almost impossible. She on the other hand, seemed amused by my restlessness.
“You must miss your sister very much,” I heard her say observing me intently. Her eyes sent shivers down my spine. Itwas as if she could read my thoughts and she was trying to make me admit something.
“I do,” I nodded. “Do you miss your grandmother?” I surprised even myself with this question, but it was obvious that this otherworldly aura of grief surrounding the deaths of two very dear people was all around us. The atmosphere in the cottage felt stifling.
I hoped that Adrian would return very quickly. I hadn’t even noticed that he had become my anchor, the one who understood the turmoil inside of me and finally, the one who could comfort me. I knew that when we returned, I would tell Luke everything. I would tell Father everything as well. I would admit my feelings to Adrian, and if fate would have it, we would live our lives with a happily ever after that we both deserved. I didn’t care anymore about my duties and obligations. Not now that Cass was gone. Her death reminded me how fickle life was, that we should grab it with both hands and demand our own happiness, instead of bowing down to the wishes and needs of others. I wanted to live my own life and I wanted to live it with Adrian, if, of course, he would have me. But that was a bridge I would cross soon.
The witch didn’t reply at first. She just stopped picking at the twig. That was the only indication that she had actually heard my question. The soft crackling of the fireplace seemed to enhance the silence that hung in the air like a noose. My senses were on high alert as I waited for her answer.
“Every single day,” she nodded wistfully, without any malice. “They say time heals all wounds, but that isn’t true. It doesn’t hurt any less. It is just that more painful things are added to you, so your pain is divided, but there is still the same amount of it. I lost many dear people, but her death has affected me the most.”
My unease grew with her words, as I tried to sympathize, but at the same time, I wasn’t sure if she was telling me all this for some hidden, sinister reason, or if it was really just a coincidence that we were alone, and this was the time to mention that she knew my father in such an unpleasant way.
As the minutes dragged on, my unease grew, and I found myself fidgeting with the hem of my dress. I wanted to be back at the castle, in the familiarity of its halls, away from the unsettling air of the witch’s cottage. Finally, we heard a horse neigh outside. My eyes opened wide. She noticed it immediately.
“Ah, your friend must be back,” she spoke, looking at the door, without any intention of getting up to open it.
I remembered then that when we arrived, her door wasn’t closed. She didn’t unlock it. She merely opened it. That must have been very brave of her not to do that. Or was it that everyone was so afraid of her, they didn’t dare come here with any intention of hurting her or stealing from her? I couldn’t tell which one of the two was true. It didn’t matter now. All that mattered was that Adrian had returned.
My heart was beating wildly now, expecting the door to open and to hear whether Adrian had any luck in discovering anything. To be quite honest, all I wanted right now was for him to be here, so I wouldn’t be alone with the witch, who was looking at me one moment, and at the door the next, almost as if she expected something monumental to happen, something I yet knew nothing of.
Suddenly, the door burst open. But it wasn’t Adrian.
“Luke!?” I gasped, seeing him here.
There was something wrong. Terribly wrong.
I got up from my chair and walked over to him. “Did something happen to Father? Or to Adrian? Why are you here? Why aren’t you at the castle?” I demanded to know, bombarding him with a million questions. I totally forgot one crucial fact andthat was that he couldn’t have known where the witch’s cottage was. He had never been here… or so I thought.
“They’re fine,” he assured me in a tone of voice that gave me the chills. He looked somewhere behind me, at the witch.
