Bewitched

by Kaila Patterson

“We wondered where you disappeared to,” Mariah said, “We feared the assassin had gotten to you.”.

  “No, I was only caught in the trouble.” Eliza replied,

  “I see,” Mariah nodded. “Is that why you are trembling?”.

  With that, she stared down at her arms. Mariah was right, she was shaking. She gripped hold of her arms, and Mariah placed a gentle arm around her shoulder.

  When the lady did that, she felt a strange comfort. Mariah and Cynthia seemed sweet, sweeter than she expected.

  “Don’t smother her! Lucie hates being smothered.” Cynthia said from across the room, giggling to herself.

  “I’m warming her up, Cynthia!” Mariah replied, “You two dress with little to nothing over your undergarments, you’ll catch a cold!”.

  “Or the plague.” Cynthia chimed in.

  Eliza could not help herself from laughing. In the town, it was deemed as crude to even mention your own underwear.

  The two maidens stared at her, then one another. Her laughter slowly died. She made a mental note not to laugh about undergarments.

  She made sure to mentally note down who they both were and where she was, in case she did manage to get lost.

  Turning around, she only then got a real look at both maidens. Mariah had waves of black hair and deep brown skin. She wore a welcoming smile and a tight grip on Eliza’s shoulder. She looked in her late-thirties and wore the same gown Eliza and Cynthia did.

  Cynthia was small and ditzy, like a music-box ballerina. She had waist-length, cream hair with a pale complexion and petite figure.

  The maiden was standing at the window, gazing out in a dream. Mariah clutched a hand to her head, rolling her eyes.

  “Cynthia! Your priorities might lay in your dreams, but we have work to do!” Mariah bellowed, causing Cynthia to flinch.

  Eliza pretended to be cleaning the table beside her, dusting it down with her hand. ‘What am I to do? What duties does Lucie have?’.

  “Sorry, that tower-witch has been plaguing my mind for days,” Cynthia stated, “Why did they insist on using the tower for her?”.

  Eliza froze on the spot, and Cynthia clearly noticed her discomfort. ‘Tower-girl’ was the phrase that made her heart skip a beat.

  Cynthia rushed over and threw her arms around her, pulling her into a sudden tight hug. Awkwardly, Eliza patted the girl on the back.

  “Oh, Lucie, you must be distraught.” Cynthia said, nodding like she knew completely understood. She did not, of course, but it was the thought that counted.

  “Ah, yes.” Eliza stuttered, edging away from the maiden, “Yes, I am”.

  Mariah had moved over to the window, staring out to the tower. She kept her gaze firmly on the sight, like solving a puzzle.

  “You two were close, weren’t you?” Mariah murmured, turning to her. “You and the witch.”.

  Eliza gulped, staying silent. Cynthia’s hand still rubbed against her shoulder, with reassurance.

  “She was a friend of mine, yes.” Eliza nodded.

  Mariah had scolded Cynthia for becoming distracted by the view, but her own eyes never left it. Eliza felt it worth saying this but bit her tongue.

  Cynthia pulled her over to a plush seat, sitting her down beside her. Mariah followed, sitting on Eliza’s right. She squished between the two, and she felt a sense of claustrophobia.

  “The King’s been restless, unstopping in his plans against the witch,” Mariah said.

  “Why? Spinner’s been arrested, he could have her dead by dawn,” Cynthia interrupted, “What is stopping him?”.

  “No one knows,” Mariah shrugged, “Rumour tells that he’s plotting against Spinner, that he's brewing something worse than execution.”.

  Eliza remained silent; her heart had stopped beating entirely. Her mind was restless, overwhelmed by their words.

  “What could be worse than death itself?” Cynthia asked, waving her arms in the air. Mariah paused, leaning in with a whisper.

  “Well, I heard that the reason she’s still alive is the prophecy,” Mariah whispered, “The prediction Mary Stanley made, before she was killed.”.

  “Oh, stop it!” Cynthia cried, covering her ears. “That prophecy gave me nightmares, dreadful ones.”.

  “It feels like this town is trapped in a nightmare,” Mariah shook her head, “Yesterday, the tower-witch’s father had his home ransacked by knights, and the old man was dragged out of his own home.”.

  With that, her eyes shot up. She turned to Mariah, with her eyes wide in alarm. Cynthia shrugged.

  “It isn’t without reason,” The maiden replied, clutching her arms. “He was father to a witch, and you cannot say he was not suspicious-looking.”.

  With all the talk of her home ransacked, her father, her arrest; Eliza felt increasingly uncomfortable. Yet, she knew she needed to know more, needed to ask more. She jumped to face Mariah.

  “What happened to him, George Spinner?” Eliza asked, trying to sound natural. Internally, her heart raced.

  The thought of her sickly father, being dragged out of his own home. It sickened her to her stomach. Her father had done no wrong, to anyone.

  “The guards dragged him out, holding him back while they searched,” Mariah explained. “We could hear the old man’s yelling from here, and it was not very…polite.”.

  “No, it was not polite,” Cynthia laughed, “He warned the guards that if they hurt his daughter, he would beat them so badly they’d be hearing colours!”.

  ‘That’s accurate,’ Eliza thought, ‘Still, he would stand no chance against ten armed guards, but he’d try.’.

  Eliza tended to focus on the fact that they were after her. The King’s unruly victim was her. The criminal here was her. To go after her father was something separate entirely.

  It was easier to know she was the one being mistreated, than knowing it was someone she loved, who was only guilty by association.

  Cynthia started giggling once again, dancing around in circles. Mariah folded her arms.

  “It’s a grave mistake, to start her giggling,” Mariah sighed, “She never stops.”.

  “Spinner’s an old fool, isn’t he?” Cynthia said, “He gets more crops thrown at him than he sells!”.

  Eliza’s posture turned cold; she gave the girl a confused glare. Cynthia did not notice, giggling at her own remark, and Mariah chuckled along.

  ‘Fool? Her father?’ Eliza thought, prepared to unleash rage on the clueless girl. The entitled girl, who was oblivious to how hard her father worked just to put food on their table; oblivious to how much he cared.

  Then, a reasonable side of her intervened the revenge-ridden thoughts. ‘Remember; you are Lucie.’.

  When the laughter died down, there was a tension amongst the maidens. Eliza turned to them, eager to change the subject.

  “Where is The Queen?” Cynthia asked, resting her head on her fist.

  “Dealing with business, presumably.”.

  “And we still need to be here?” Cynthia whined, “We cannot be ladies-in-waiting, when there is no one to await commands from.”.

  Mariah opened her mouth to speak, as the doors to the Queen’s chamber opened.

  A young man strode in, well-dressed and well-postured. He bore curled brown hair a tanned face, with a dazzling smile.

  “Darling!” The man called, strutting over to the maidens. Eliza shifted cautiously out of his way.

  He walked over to Cynthia, who faked a short smile.

  Mariah shook her head, not bothering to disguise her disgust. The man spoke with a strange accent, leaning down to Cynthia.

  He scooped her into his arms, lifting her into the air. She faked a laugh, glancing over wide-eyed to Eliza.

  “Gabriel, why are you here?” Cynthia spoke, through gritted teeth. There was a suspicion surrounding the pair, an underlying tension that Eliza could notice first-hand.

  Sensing the maiden’s discomfort, she opened her mouth to speak. Mariah elbowed her in the ribs, causing a sharp pa
in.

  Gabriel’s face fell, as he hesitantly dropped Cynthia to her feet. The girl wobbled, shooting her eyes from the ladies to him.

  “I thought you would be pleased,” Gabriel grumbled, strutting his way across the room.

  He walked over to the nearest chair and sat down, resting his feet on a nearby stool. Eliza had never experienced socialising with royalty, but even she knew common courtesy. This man was clearly unbothered.

  Cynthia skipped over to him, standing at the side of the chair. His hands supported the back of his head, as he casually relaxed.

  The maiden’s eyes were desperate, as her cheeks flushed a flaming red. She pulled on his arm.

  “Please, you cannot be here!”.

  Gabriel chuckled to himself, ignoring her complains. He glanced over at Eliza, giving her a wink. Her face furrowed in obvious disgust, at his attitude and his vanity.

  “Get out, you fool!” Mariah shouted, marching toward him. “What would The King say?”.

  “You are not permitted to speak to me like that,” Gabriel growled, his snarl turning to a smirk. “What would The King say?”.

  Mariah shook her head, squinting her eyes at his irritable face. Eliza stood behind her, prepared to jump to defence, even if she barely knew either of them.

  “I’ll speak to you how I wish,” Mariah spat, “How do you plan to explain to The King why you were intruding his wife’s private room?”.

  The man froze, as he stood to his feet. He strolled toward Cynthia, muttering a few words under his breath.

  Eliza could not hear what he said, but she picked up on one word. Mariah’s jaw dropped, her face flushing in anger.

  “What did you call me!?” She yelled, clenching her fists.

  The man gave a cold smirk. Mariah started to march toward him, until she froze. Cynthia stood behind Gabriel, pleading with her eyes.

  ‘Does she not want help?’ Eliza asked herself, confused.

  The three maidens stood staring at one another. Mariah nodded in a moment of mutual peace, before retreating. Gabriel scoffed.

  He grabbed Cynthia’s hand and looked up at her, direct into her eyes.

  ‘There’s something not right here, I know it.’ Eliza thought, narrowing her eyes towards the man.

  He gave her a sick feeling in her stomach, and a wicked aura followed his every step.

  “Prepare yourself to leave, the marriage was arranged this morning.” Gabriel whispered. “You will come with me, and the wedding will be at the proper time.”.

  Mariah gasped, placing her hand to her chin. She stared over to Eliza, who pretended to look equally as horrified.

  “Arranged?” Cynthia asked, her face in disbelief. She whipped her hand from his like it was hot coal. “No, it is too soon!”.

  Then, Eliza’s distrust in the man came to life. Before she could react, he grabbed Cynthia by the front of her gown. Eliza jumped up to intervene, but Mariah threw out her hand.

  “No?” Gabriel laughed, sarcasm lining his tone. “You don’t want to marry me, is that it?”.

  Cynthia shook her head, grabbing onto the front of his coat.

  “I do! Listen I—".

  “I have heard enough from you.”.

  Cynthia’s face was sticky and scarlet as she cried. His face was scarlet with fury.

  “Look at yourself,” Gabriel scowled at her, “You look disgusting, for goodness’ sakes.”.

  The maiden’s short breaths hitched, as she gave a trembling nod. Tears swirled down her face, like a flowing river. Eliza had no experience with love, but her heart broke for the mistreated girl.

  “I’m sorry,” Cynthia whispered, “I’ll do better, I will.”.

  “I hope so,” Gabriel spat, “All the beautiful women I could be courting, and yet I stay with you. Do you realise that?”.

  “Don’t say that, please.”.

  “It’s true, you owe me for staying with you,” Gabriel said, leaning in so his nose touched Cynthia’s. “Look at Genevieve; an auburn-haired, ocean-eyed, small-figured…”.

  “Stop it, Gabriel.” Cynthia cried, tears running freely down her face.

  “Why, because you know I’m right?” Gabriel laughed, “What do you compare to her?”.

  Cynthia’s eyes were puffed and red, buried inside her hand. She sniffled and cried out, trembling in his gaze.

  Eliza turned to Mariah, who still held her arm out. The other maiden stood with tears in her own eyes, avoiding Eliza’s staring.

  “I care about you.”.

  “That’s all?” Gabriel scoffed, “I care that my future wife won’t be a teary-eyed mess, but we can’t pick and choose, can we?”.

  Cynthia shook her head, plastering on a fake smile. Her face was blotched and red, and tears ran like a waterfall; but she smiled.

  He smirked, slowly stepping away from her. Eliza could not understand it, why Cynthia allowed him to manipulate her, to play with her feelings.

  Gabriel dug his hand into his coat, fumbling inside. At last, he pulled out a red rose, twirling the stem in his fingers.

  The flower had lost petals buried inside Gabriel’s coat, and was dying at the ends.

  “Thank you.” Cynthia smiled back, her voice breaking in the sentence.

  With a proud nod, the man turned to leave. He gave one final look to Eliza and Mariah, before turning back to Cynthia.

  “Prepare your belongings for our departure, I’m sure the ladies could assist you with that.” Gabriel taunted.

  ‘If this is romance, I would rather live without it.’ Eliza thought.

  Cynthia nodded to him, glancing towards Mariah. The man stared with a bright gleam in his eyes.

  “I will, yes.” Cynthia replied, clutching her hands to stop the shaking.

  “Delightful.” Gabriel said, with a dull tone. Cynthia shakily waved him goodbye, as he slammed the doors behind him.

  “S-See? He’s—” She took a long sigh, breath hitching and eyes watering, “Nice.”.

  Mariah’s eyes had turned pitiful, and Eliza felt both the maiden’s pain. She had assumed the ladies-in-waiting lived pristine-perfect lives, that love came naturally to them.

  She then saw how wrong she was, very wrong. Cynthia braved a smile, but Eliza knew better.

  ‘Her smile looks more believable than a genuine one.’.

  Eliza knew that she had only known these maidens for an hour, or several, but she could feel their pain as clear as they felt it.

  It was obvious the turmoil they suffered. She saw the panic in Cynthia’s eyes, and the pain in Mariah’s.

  The only sound was Cynthia’s sniffling. The maiden covered her mouth, while tears streamed down her face. She wiped them away faster than they came.

  “He hates me, doesn’t he?” Cynthia sobbed, “It is my fault, I cannot live up to his standard, his wants.”.

  ‘She blames herself for this?’ Eliza thought.

  Mariah sighed. She led the young girl over to the nearest chair, sitting her down. Eliza sat beside them, unsure of what to say.

  “It is not your fault; he was the one that grabbed you.” Mariah whispered, but Cynthia shook her head.

  Cynthia took her head from her hands and stared at the floor. Her gaze looked as though it was set upon the rose, dead and broken on the floor. That made her wail even louder.

  “Yes, it is my fault; I defied him.” Cynthia cried, “But I can’t leave this castle, it’s all I have ever known.”.

  Eliza then understood. Cynthia was in an arranged marriage with Gabriel, but he was from a foreign place. That meant she would have to leave to live with him, against her will.

  Mariah continued rubbing on Cynthia’s back and combing her hair while Eliza sat thinking.

  Her father never believed in a woman’s subservience to a man, and never believed in any person being superior to their neighbour. With that, she was taught that no being was better than the other.

  Now, looking at Cynthia’s state, she was grateful for her father’s unpopular views
on society.

  ‘That’s reality.’ She thought.

  Cynthia’s cries began to echo across the room, while her mumbling spoke of how she will never make a good wife. Mariah looked at Eliza, that same pity in her eyes for the young girl.

  ‘Yes,’ Eliza agreed to herself, ‘Reality.’.

  8

  Her Mother’s Daughter

  Eliza sat perched on the side of the bed, rubbing the sleep from her burning eyes. She felt miserable, enduring a burning fever all morning.

  ‘Father needs you, Elizabeth,’ That reasonable voice told her, ‘For his own sake, and yours’.

  With gentle motivation, she pushed herself to stand, only to fall back onto the bed again.

  “This will be fun.” She scoffed; her voice gone low.

  Her muscles ached, her head throbbed, her eyes were burning, and her face had gone a pale white. She had considered a fever, the plague and everything in between.

  Lucie’s maiden room was small and comfortable. It did not compare to Queen Grace’s grand chambers, but it was fancier than Eliza’s own dingy cottage.

  The bed was short and plump, edged up against the brick wall. There was a miniature table with a rose lying upon it, and Eliza’s locket.