Bewitched

by Kaila Patterson

  Cynthia’s face turned a paler-white, as she slowly nodded. The girl straightened her posture and gave a determined smile. The plan was set.

  “Three...”.

  Eliza began counting down. Cynthia took a deep breath and pressed her hand to her head, pretending to feel woozy.

  “Two…”.

  Lady Grace clenched her fists, scolding the man. Eliza blocked out the woman’s protests, focusing her eyes on Cynthia’s shivering face.

  “One…”.

  Cynthia stood to her feet, wobbling back and forth. She clutched her hand to her forehead, coughing into her arm.

  “Now.”.

  Cynthia’s eyes shut, her legs collapsing to the floor. The maiden tumbled backwards and hit the ground, her blonde hairs sticking to her wet face.

  Eliza winced, as a painful thud filled the silence. Cynthia lay unmoving on the floor, her lips parted and hands crooked, like a broken doll.

  Grace let out an echoing gasp, clutching her hand over her mouth. The two guards shoved past, sprinting across the room, and kneeling beside the girl. Cynthia’s eyelids closed over, and her face went snow-white.

  She had tilted her face to the side, and her legs spread out inside her dress.

  Matthew pressed his fingers to her throat. The spare guard brushed her loose hair from her face.

  Eliza caught Grace’s eye.

  She nodded suggestively to the door before giving a short smile. Grace glanced from her to Mariah, as her face softened in realisation. Narrowing her eyes at Cynthia, she nodded, returning the smirk.

  Noting the guard’s distraction, Lady Grace turned across the chamber floor. She exited the room gracefully, standing tall and postured. In the blink of an eye, she was gone.

  Her feet could be heard marching across the hall, in search of her mad-driven husband.

  Eliza nodded to Mariah, contented with their plan. She could not imagine what was happening within Cynthia’s mind, but the girl’s state was believable, while it lasted.

  Even if it were outlandish, her plan had succeeded. If phase-two went accordingly, then Cynthia would be spared time before she left.

  There was a murmuring of voices from the hallway, and both maidens turned to the door. A man’s voice came from the unknown, and she prayed it was a guard.

  Then, a familiar voice spoke.

  “Why the hurry, dear?” The voice taunted. Slowly, Grace stepped backwards into the room, with a fist gripping her forearm.

  King Richard entered the chamber, shoving Lady Grace inside. He kicked the door shut behind him, scanning the room. His eyes landed on Cynthia, with a cruel laugh.

  “That’s unfortunate.” Richard chuckled, acting with fake concern.

  The King seemed in a good mood, opposite to everyone else in the room. Grace tugged her arm from his grip, squinting her eyes at his face.

  “What is the meaning of all this?” She begged. “You cannot divorce me.”.

  “I can, and I did.”.

  ‘Phase-one failed,’ Eliza thought, ‘Let’s hope that Cynthia doesn’t.’.

  He hummed in response, sweeping past her. The two guards were knelt beside Cynthia, ignoring The King and ex-Queen’s arguing.

  Living within the castle, the guards must have been used to endless quarrelling from the royal couple.

  The King stood dressed in a forest green jacket, tinted with gold to match the crown. Extravagant as always, even his shoes had golden lining.

  “Why?” He replied, mocking her. “Is this a surprise? You did me no good, not ever.”.

  Grace scoffed. She reached out for his arm, but Richard swung it away. The Queen had been right. He was different, but she could not see why.

  “No good? I was loyal to you, I held my tongue when you asked, I abandoned my own family for you, what more could I have done?” Grace protested. There was a desperation in her voice, pleading with him.

  “It is not what you could have done, it is what you failed to do.” Richard answered, spitting out the word, failed.

  The Queen’s face turned a sickly-green colour, matching The King’s jacket. Her lips were fell into a frown, as she wiped at her eyes.

  ‘Who could blame her?’ Eliza thought, ‘With this divorce, she loses everything at once.’.

  “My father was right; I was wrong to marry you,” The Queen cried, “You have become the very man he warned me about.”.

  Richard’s face gave no emotion, he stared blankly at her face. It appeared that words did not reach him.

  “Then go.”.

  The King’s mouth was stern, and his eyes were dull and dissociative. He stared right through her, emotionless and cold.

  Everyone in the chamber, except Cynthia, had turned to watch him. His eyes sent chills down Eliza’s spine, as they froze on his wife.

  “Go?” Grace queried, with barely a whisper. Eliza expected him to burst into rage, to give a snarky remark. He did not.

  “Leave, Grace.” He declared, void. “Get out of my country.”.

  The Queen took a breath, flickering her eyes from him to the maidens. The mood had changed, and along with everything else, was still.

  Mariah nudged Eliza, and she shot her head to look. The maiden nodded to Cynthia, and Eliza followed her stare.

  Matthew reached his hand in underneath her back, and the other under her legs. With a grunt, he carried her in his arms.

  Cynthia had her head lolled back and her arms limp. If the guard had common sense, he would see how peculiar it was that she was unconscious for so long.

  The King and ex-Queen ignored him, their gaze on one another. Grace’s eyes stared into his, like she hoped to reach him, to find his humane side.

  “Richard, I will leave, but only if—".

  “If? It is not a choice; it is an order from your king.”.

  “My king?” Grace laughed, humourlessly. “What about my husband? You become a different man, a man I do not know, when you call yourself king.”.

  Matthew briefly nodded to The King, before carrying Cynthia from the room. His guards followed, speeding past the mad-looking King.

  “Richard, tell me what this is all for.” She pleaded. Eliza could tell she was appealing to his softer side, if he had one.

  “Need I tell you?” Richard sighed, “You speak against me, defy me, contradict me and above all, have not given me an heir.”.

  “Fine, that may be true.” Grace said, “Yet, that is not the true reason.”.

  Richard’s face hardened. He stepped away from her, staring on in disgust. A familiar fire burned in his eyes; one Eliza had seen before.

  “I’d choose my next words carefully, if I were you.” Richard spat.

  “Oh, I will.”.

  Richard turned to leave, but she grabbed his arm. The roles had reversed.

  He entered the room pulling her arm, and he would leave with her grabbing his. For once, she had the upper hand on him.

  “I know too much for your liking, don’t I?” Queen Grace drawled, “It is a threat to have me around. You know that if anyone uncovered the truth, as I have, it would ruin you. It risks losing the thing you depend on most.”.

  Richard growled, edging away from her. The lines on his face creased, like an angered wolf preparing to slaughter its prey.

  Eliza flinched at the tone of both royals, not realising how tight her grip on Mariah’s arm was. Grace was treading on thin ice; but not because of her tone, or what she said.

  It was because she was right, and he knew it too.

  “It is not my secret to tell,” Grace whispered, “Yet in these times, you cannot risk that I know and always will.”.

  The King pulled his arm from her, staring to the floor. The cruel look was no longer on his face. Instead, there was nothing, no emotion.

  Eliza felt bile rising in her throat, and her stomach felt like it was turning upside down. No one spoke, no one dared to.

  ‘What is there to say?’ She thought, ‘All has been said.’.

  Moments pa
ssed, and there was nothing. Grace spun on her feet and pulled open the door to the closet behind her. She reached in, pulling out dresses and jewels into her arms.

  Mariah followed, pulling Eliza alongside her. Eliza felt The King’s gaze, landing on her.

  While she was distracted, The Queen pulled a trunk from the wardrobe, firing in all her belongings.

  “I am not giving you the satisfaction of throwing me out,” Grace announced, smirking toward The King. “I’m leaving you.”.

  Eliza spotted Richard from the corner of her eye. While keeping her eyes low, she caught him signalling to her.

  Richard nodded his head towards the door. Eliza stared from him to The Queen. In the pits of her stomach, she wanted nothing more than to avoid him, but she knew that would only make matters worse.

  Mariah noticed their exchanged glances. The maiden nodded to her, giving an empathetic smile. Sighing, Eliza turned to the ex-Queen.

  “Might I be excused, Your Highness—” Her voice cut as Richard gave an irritated cough. “I mean, Lady Grace?”.

  The Queen clicked her tongue, murmuring in response. Eliza supposed that meant yes, and Mariah smiled softly. Not a smirk, or a grin, but a comforting smile. One that said, ‘It’s ok.’.

  Eliza took a breath, recollecting herself. Each time The King asked to speak with her, it risked everything. However, she knew there were few who defied The King, and still had their head.

  She walked slowly across the room, purposely slowing herself down. She knew living Lucie’s grand life was better than the tower, but when speaking with him, there was no place she would rather be.

  “Make haste, Benson.” Richard hissed, eyeing Grace.

  He stood outside The Queen’s Chamber; his attitude changed. No longer bad-tempered or upset, but proud.

  “Finally.” He laughed, taking her hand in his own. Eliza froze at that.

  He shut the doors behind her, leaving the alone in the corridor. Her eyes rested on his jacket, instead of his face. Eliza could tell he was waiting on something, that he wanted her to say something.

  “Well? Are you not pleased?” Richard scoffed. Eliza’s face went blank, and her mind ran wild.

  ‘Pleased? What is there to be pleased about?’.

  Whatever it was, he expected her to know. Saying nothing gave away nothing, but it certainly made him impatient. He squeezed her slight hand, placing his much larger one on top of it.

  “The divorce was finalised.” He continued, “Remember now?”.

  Eliza went from nodding to shaking her head. It was not that she had forgotten, but she did not know what to remember. One hand was clutched in his, the other poised behind her back.

  She tried to put herself in Lucie’s mindset, but that was useless. Lucie would have known no more about this divorce than she did, after it was only finalised that morning.

  “Forgive me, I am feeling under the weather,” Eliza answered in her posh-sweet-Lucie tone. She prayed that he would send her away if she were ill. “Why am I to be pleased?”.

  ‘When did the, saying nothing, stop?’.

  King Richard rolled his eyes. He scanned the hall for any guards, before leaning into whisper.

  “Our agreement, Benson.” He groaned, squishing her hand in his grip. It was painful, like he was making up for the fact he could not squish her. “This is only the first step.”.

  Whatever Eliza had expected, she was not expecting that.

  She forgot many things, but she was sure that she never made any agreements with him. The dark walls loomed over her, squashing her in like she was a bug beneath them. Like the maidens, she must have forgotten she agreed to Richard. That was it, it had to be.

  “Goodness,” He groaned, giving an exaggerated sigh. “Let me refresh your memory.”.

  Eliza nodded, realising it was obvious she had no idea what he was saying. Not that she did that purposefully, but it meant she got an explanation. It was a win-win.

  “You spoke to me, asking of a higher position in court. You wanted to be taken seriously, to prove you could be greater than a lady to The Queen.”.

  She did not remember that. Eliza thought on her discussion with The King, but besides his all-powerful-king monologue, they barely spoke.

  “Then, weeks ago, I offered you a deal, didn’t I?” He asked, and instinctively, Eliza nodded back. On the inside, her heart sunk, if it were possible. Her only saving was that she did not know the deal’s contents, but one thought sunk into her mind.

  “…You refused it at first, saying you could never agree. Then, you came running back, like most do.”.

  She was not disguised as Lucie, weeks ago.

  That meant that the real Lucie made a deal with The King, and that hit her like a ton of bricks. Eliza had not been arrested for that long, which meant Lucie had done the deal before she was in the tower.

  “…When you finally agreed, we decided that you would give me the information I needed, which you did.”.

  Eliza nodded, like she knew what he was saying. On the outside, she showed no surprise to it.

  “…And I can save you from being sent away for marriage, like your fellow lady-in-waiting.”.

  That was true. Lucie had been on her trip to France, to meet a suitor. Lucie dreamed of being married. It did not make sense, why Richard would save her from it.

  “…You came to me and told me all you knew. That allowed me to continue my, investigation.”.

  Her stomach sickened with suspense. His words repeated themselves in her mind; that word repeated itself.

  ‘Information. Lucie gave him information.’.

  In her head, she wanted him to stop. She did not want to hear any more. It felt like time was slowly passing her, and all she could do was listen and endure.

  ‘Please, tell me I’m wrong. Tell me it’s not that.’.

  “…You spoke of all you had seen and heard in your lifetime, giving me somewhat useful information.”.

  All she knew was The King had been searching for information for weeks. Certain information; about her.

  Eliza denied her solutions, and her mind searched for practical ones, for excuses she could give. Still, there was a part of her that knew what would come. That part of her mind that saw no point in denying things and told the obvious, even when she did not want to hear it.

  “…Information on that witch, Spinner.”.

  Eliza’s heart tore. Simple as that.

  Lucie had given him information, about her. That was why he had been searching, why he knew where to search. It was all from Lucie.

  “I needed to know from an inside source, which is why I recruited you, and our plan worked well for us both. I got the information I needed, and…”.

  Slowly, she nodded. Not to him, but to herself.

  “I will have a new wife, who can give me an heir and in exchange can rise to the highest position of power.” Richard smirked, pausing.

  Richard pressed his finger under her chin, lifting her head. His eyes gleamed in delight.

  “And that darling little wife, her story will be a perfect fairy-tale,” Richard smirked. “The Queen of the land, who found true love, as the fairest maiden of them all. Yet, a fairy-tale is never complete, until the witch is defeated.”.

  He lent in, his smirk coming into view. That cold, vile smirk she hated.

  “Isn’t that right, my dear wife-to-be?”.

  15

  Lucie’s Confession

  Eliza had not gotten any sleep that night. She tossed and turned in bed, and her eyes stung with restless sleep. In fact, her entire face had been puffed, as Lucie’s tiny room felt like it was closing in on her.

  Her mind prevented her from sleep, and in the pitch-black, she had reviewed everything. That was her only way of understanding it.

  With King Richard’s brief reminder, she knew what Lucie did not tell her. Her heart hurt at that, and stress drained her energy.

  From what The King had said, it all made sense. Until it did not.

>   King Richard needed information on her, and Lucie was the ideal candidate. She was close to him and could be persuaded.

  Coincidentally, Lucie was under stress upon learning that her father was sending her off to marry.

  Richard was desperate for an heir, that Queen Grace had not given him.

  If he married Lucie, she could give him an heir, and she would get to stay in England with a successful marriage.

  ‘Win-win’, In Eliza’s own words.

  Shaking the thoughts away, she stood facing her tower. The harsh wind blew onto her face, but her gaze was colder, far more threatening than any weather they faced.

  Eliza’s rational side was gone, and she was out for blood. It was not as simple as Lucie had told a lie, or tripped her up, or made fun of her.

  Her only friend had traded information, about her. She had done it long before Eliza was arrested.

  That meant Lucie knew what was going to happen to her. Lucie let it happen, and never even warned her that it would.

  Eliza’s head tilted down, watching the grass blowing in the wind. She wore that same maiden dress, and her satchel sat on her waist. In her hands, she had the silver tray, with stale bread and water.