AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I had to use magic a few times today, including one complex spell this afternoon, not to mention what I spent getting in here. They have you under heavier guard this time, and Venedict wouldn’t agree to my being your servant while you’re sequestered. He said you had a bell and could ring for what you wanted—no need to have a servant posted outside the door in addition to guards. I had to use a strong reverie spell on the guards to access the room… I don’t think I can do this. How long did they give you?”
My throat tightens as more tears well up in my eyes. I choke out the words. “Two days.”
“Alright.” He presses his fingertips to his forehead. “Alright. Three days. If they bring plenty of food, and if I can take breaks, I can make it. The problem is, once the spell begins, I can’t stop until it’s done, or I have to begin again with a new inciting object. Which brings me to the question I should have asked first—do you have another object made of gold? Something meaningful? That gold ring, perhaps?” He points to my father’s wedding ring.
I pull it off my finger. “Yes, it’s gold, as far as I know… and yes, it means something to me.” My voice trembles. “It’s the last memento I have of my parents, since you took my mother’s necklace.”
“I’m sorry.” Rupert’s blue eyes sear mine, hot with sympathy.
“He’s taking everything,” I whisper fiercely. “My dignity, my hope, my parents, my safety, my friends, my freedom… I want him gone.”
Despite his weariness, Rupert smiles. It’s a dark, malicious grin. “If we can get through this, sweetheart, we can do that. We can end him.”
That keen confidence in his gaze can only mean one thing. “You got it?” I gasp.
“I did. And it’s ready.”
“That was the complex magic you performed today?”
“Yes.”
We both stand still, our gazes fused by the joint awareness of how close we’re getting to our goal.
“There’s just this left,” I tell him. “This final obstacle, and then we do it.”
He nods, but there’s a quiver of uncertainty and pain across his handsome features. Maybe he’s afraid of potential consequences from his people if they find out about his interference in human governmental affairs.
To be honest, I’m scared I’ll be executed by my own people for killing the King, even though I’m doing this for everyone’s good.
Maybe we’re both foolish to believe that two people who just met a few days ago can succeed in toppling a monarchy.
It’s either extreme foolishness, or a cleverly calculated risk. I’ve made risky decisions before, in the course of managing the mill and my baking business—but those were miniscule compared to this. And yet, on the surface, our plot looks so simple. A rare, undetectable poison in the King’s food. A few bites, and the deed will be done.
“We’re doing this,” I tell Rupert firmly.
“It’s what you want,” he says. “And what he deserves.”
“Best for everyone.”
“Yes.”
“So… you’ll try to do this?” I survey the heaps of golden straw, piled high above our heads, filling the whole vast room, right up to the corners where the walls meet the ceiling.
Rupert turns whiter, and he swallows hard. “I will try.”
“Don’t hurt yourself, please. Only do what you can, and we’ll figure out the rest.”
“We’d best call for some food now,” he says, “I’ll eat first and rest a bit, and then we can save some of the food for me to eat while I’m working. As I mentioned, once I begin, I can’t stop, and if we open the door for supplies, they’ll see me in here. Best to order everything now.”
“Right. You hide in the straw—I’ll call for sustenance. Once it arrives, we can begin.”
18
Her father’s ring was heavy, solid. A beautiful piece. I hated to dissolve it into the spell, but it had to be done, and it worked wonders. The emotions it held were even stronger and more vivid than those from her mother’s necklace—fresher memories, more potent. I’m hours into the process now, spinning endlessly, guiding the thread and pumping the pedal while Juliette feeds the spell with straw.
Now and then I snatch bites of the food that was delivered, or I gulp some wine.
I always visualize my energy as a ball of yarn or string being slowly unspooled. There’s much less of it today, and it’s diminishing with frightening speed, growing smaller by the second.
