Bewitched

by Kaila Patterson

  “My understanding is that you know, then?” Richard began, suddenly averting the topic. “The truth, all of it?”.

  The tense atmosphere was haunting her, as her feet ached to run away.

  “I know who my mother was, and who I am.” Eliza began, “Yet, you knew I was your blood; what made you target me?”.

  Richard laughed, throwing his head backwards. There was a short, unsettling silence between the two.

  “Think, Spinner,” Richard dragged out. “Is it not obvious, the threat you put to my bloodline, my throne?”.

  She stood, narrowing her eyes on him. He let out an exaggerated, long sigh.

  “Threat? You are afraid I will cast a spell, or curse you in your sleep?” Eliza scoffed, tilting her head. “That’s quite pathetic.”.

  The King gave an irritated titch, spinning the sword through his fingers. She stared, blinking quickly to clear her vision.

  “Foolish girl,” He murmured, “You are, biologically, my niece. I have no other living relatives, and countless enemies who would take boundless joy in displaying my head on a wall. Is my dilemma not clear?”

  Eliza’s face furrowed, backing away from him. While the thought sunk in, she began to realise things she should have long before.

  “That does not make sense,” Eliza whispered, shooting her eyes to him. “Is it not a priority for a ruler to have an heir?”.

  “Not one who was born and raised by a commoner,” Richard sighed, “You are an insufferable, whining, loud-mouthed girl who brings disgrace to my bloodline, and you are his daughter through and through.”.

  Her heart sunk at the memory of her father. Even if offered, she would never want to be a ruler, not after the ones before her.

  “My father is a good man, and he’s done no wrong in comparison to you.” Eliza shouted back, clenching her free fist.

  “He’s a disgraced fool, and you are indifferent,” Richard yelled, “It would be a curse in my bloodline to allow any spawn of his to the throne, I needed to execute the possibility of it.”.

  She always knew that there was a mutual hatred between her father and him, but she realised; it was a family disagreement.

  “Upholding a bloodline means nothing for a man who has spilled more blood than he is worth.” Eliza declared, “It will be cursed regardless.”.

  Richard’s head darted around, as fury came out of his nose. His fists turned a sick white, and he raised the sword up to his face.

  “A piece of advice, Elizabeth,” Richard announced, “As long as the blood spilled is not your own, it is irrelevant. That is the key to power.”.

  “You’re vile.”.

  He shook his head, unbothered by the statement. Eyes meeting the sword ahead, his face turned dark.

  “Better that, than a fool.” He replied, smirking to the air. “It is one thing to know you are powerful, but entirely another for people to believe it; your old companion is the prime example of that.”.

  Eliza’s heart twinged. Lucie and Richard’s faces had continuously filled her nightmares. Having to face him, in that daunting tower, was her literal worst nightmare.

  “I’ll never know why she married you,” Eliza replied, “Although, she’s changed from the girl I knew.”.

  The metallic scent revisited her nose, and scanning The King, she realised how he smelt faintly of blood.

  “Then, perhaps you never truly knew her.” Richard smirked, “Her marriage to me gave her the life she dreamed, and all it took was an ounce of information.”

  “At the expense of ruining my life,” Eliza remarked, “Not exactly a fair trade, and not one I agreed to.”.

  Richard raised his left hand, his silver ring glistening in the air. Grinning to himself, he held it out.

  “Your life did not compare to the one she would receive,” Richard continued, “She was desperate for a wealthy marriage, for something greater. I needed information, and an heir that was my own. I could achieve both, by marrying her.”.

  The two raised their weapons simultaneously, and she took a step forward, prepared for the unknown.

  “I heard this story before,” Eliza said. “What kind of information did she give you? Why?”.

  “I wanted to know who you were, and if you knew the truth.” Richard answered. “I needed to see whom would take England’s throne, if not a son of mine. When I saw your outlandish, misfitting place in society, I knew the one solution was to execute the chances of you succeeding me.”.

  “You would kill your own niece, just because of who she was?” Eliza winced, “Or would you?”.

  “What?”.

  She took a step from The King. He was slowly advancing to her, preparing his sword. Then, it all made sense.

  “I never understood why you kept me alive, now I see.” Eliza said, staring into his eyes. “You are a coward.”.

  Richard’s face turned hard. His walks toward her stopped, as he frighteningly stared her down.

  “You dare call me a coward, you foolish little girl.”.

  Eliza barely listened. She was thinking over her newfound revelation, realising the easy truth.

  “There is a reason you kept me in the tower, why you refused to let me die.” Eliza spoke, “I’m the only piece of Ruelle that you have left, and you can’t bring yourself to kill me.”.

  Richard’s eyes clenched shut, turning from her. Eliza could see it; he knew she was right.

  “No,” Richard snarled, “You are a filthy witch, and you are nothing like my sister. You are nothing to the royal lineage.”.

  “Do you believe that witchcraft exists, that it is not some hoax you invented, to justify what you have done?” Eliza shot back. Richard’s expression was unreadable, as he stared back.

  “Yes, and no. It is not what people say, not some absurd hocus pocus.” He said lowly. “It exists, and cursed women like yourself are the exact image. A witch is one who curses society, puts a dent in perfection.”.

  Eliza could not believe what she was hearing, and the urge to kill him grew. For her mother, for herself, for all the innocents.

  “That justifies killing innocent people?” She yelled back, gritting her teeth. “Your ideologies are absurd, sickening.”.

  “This comes as a surprise, Elizabeth?”.

  Her mother, the one this man had stolen from her. He opened his mouth to continue, as Eliza interrupted.

  “You killed her, didn’t you?” Eliza said. “You killed my mother.”.

  His eyes lowered to the floor, fidgeting with his sword. In her heart, she felt she knew the answer. Yet, she needed his truth. The truth he withheld for seventeen years.

  “I didn’t--” He gritted his teeth, with a gravelly tone. “Enough.”.

  “No, you will answer me.” Eliza spat, eyes brimming with tears. Her voice turned to a scream; “Did you murder your own sister and take a mother from her child?”.

  “I said ENOUGH!” Richard roared, raising his sword to the air. Eliza let out a shriek, as his sword swung over his shoulder, slicing through the air.

  She dodged it, flinching away from his aim. Richard swung his sword a second time, prepared to cut her in half.

  The third time, Eliza bent to her knees, raising her own sword in a steady position.

  It clashed against his, as both dug their sword against the other. The weight he put sent shocks of pain through her arms, and it took every ounce of strength to fend him off.

  She threw herself up, yelling out. Richard grunted, he swung down from his right shoulder, his fists tighter.

  Eliza wasted no time defending herself, and the two swords clashed.

  She got a glimpse of his face, focused on his sword, determined to kill.

  He was backing her into a corner, continuing to clash his sword against hers. She squirmed from his reach, as he attacked again.

  The clinking and clashing of the swords echoed in the room, along with their panting breaths.

  Raising her own sword, she swung down on him, only to be blocked and thrown
backwards.

  His sword came inches from her face, and Eliza cried out. Richard’s angry breaths brushed her face, as he leant over her, pushing her down.

  All her bones ached, and a trickle of blood ran down her face, after the sword lightly sliced it when it came too close. Pain burned all over, and she could barely feel at all.

  Richard’s swings became heavier, angrier. His sword wavered over his shoulder before whipping down, then faster than he could master, was shakily swung to his far right and swung again.

  ‘Block him, Eliza.’ She thought, ‘I can’t let him win.’.

  She blocked every swing he sent, until he stopped, and swung the sword overhead. Eliza flinched, clenching her muscles tense. His sword came clashing down, and she winced as it did.

  The deafening clash rang in her ears, and her fingers begged to be released, as she held onto her sword with the little strength she had.

  The pressure he enabled was immense, and his sword pushed her down. As she opened her eyes, she had no time to react before screaming in pain.

  Richard’s foot kicked forward and slammed into her stomach, knocking her flying across the room.

  Eliza’s lungs created a spasmed shock-pain, as she wheezed out and cried in agony.

  The impact of his foot pulsed and sent waves of pain through her, as she flew backwards and collided with the windowpane. She sunk to the floor, weak.

  Her back muscles slammed against the wood, sending worse pain than she could have imagined. She could not move or think.

  Her vision was clouded over by the tears in her eyes, and all she wanted was to cry out for mercy, to beg him to stop.

  ‘That is not who you are.’ A voice said, overpowering her mind, ‘Get up and fight, don’t give him the satisfaction.’.

  Her arm reached for the wood, where she shakily stood. It was agony and worse, as her lungs wheezed, heart pounded, and muscles cried out.

  ‘You never came this far to give up,’ The voice returned, ‘You are only as strong as you let yourself believe.’.

  She raised her tear-stained eyes to Richard. His smirk slowly fell, perplexed by her moving at all. She had been booted across a room and slammed into a wall, he, and she both knew she should not have been able to move.

  ‘Fight, Elizabeth,’ The voice finished, ‘Fight like it is your last day alive, because it just might be.’.

  With aching, and tired skin; Eliza stood. She clenched her sword, staring right into his eyes.

  “I do not fear you, I never will,” Eliza whispered, voice trembling. “And you can kill me, beat me, hurt me; but I will be unafraid to the point where, you will fear not what I can do, but who I am.”.

  Richard did not respond, but his eyes intently watched her. She knew then, fear was what he craved. The fear from others is what he lived on, and if she did not show it, he held no greater power.

  “Very good.” Richard commented, “You’ve inherited that from your Raford bloodline; a fight that never dies, even if you do.”.

  “You’re wrong about that,” Eliza whimpered, pushing her trembling legs to stand. “I’m Elizabeth Spinner, and I fight because I never had the choice.”.

  Richard smirked, raising his sword. He propelled it down to her. In the force, she was thrown onto the windowpane, arching her back over the wood.

  Eliza’s head turned sidewards, in a quick realisation. Pushing his sword into hers, he was slowly pushing her back, bending her out of the open window.

  Her waist on the wood was the only support from falling out, and her heart began to race. Richard leant over her, with the wickedest, cruellest smile.

  One wrong move, she would fall from the tower to her death.

  She saw a change in Richard’s eyes. He gazed to the stone ground beneath the tower, then back at her. The change was not a good one, it never was.

  Eliza cried out, defending herself with all her might. Her hips slowly began to slide, tipping further out the window. The backs of her kneecaps held her strongly against the wood, stopping her from tumbling out.

  ‘He’s going to kill me; he’s going to kill me.’ Eliza thought.

  Eliza’s eyes reflected the fear she dared not to show. Not fear of him, but of falling, of dying a gruesome death and losing it all. She had a choice, like she did at the very beginning, life, or death.

  Except, her choice was a genuine one.

  Her eyes turned to see Richard’s gory, blood-stained face inches from hers. If he gave one more force-filled push, he could throw her from the tower.

  “Pity it all ends so soon, Elizabeth,” Richard grinned, the pupils of his eyes swelling. “Now, you are no more than you were at the very beginning; a girl on her course to die.”.

  He was right, she knew, unless she did something. If she made her move, and saved her life, she could rewrite history before it was written.

  Eliza was seconds from falling, as her chopped hair blew in the forceful wind. Her neck was forced backwards, as she gritted her teeth and prepared for the worst.

  With the tilt of her neck, a chilling metal struck her chest. The locket, that Richard had given her, nipped into her skin. She realised; that was it.

  Richard thought he gave the locket to Lucie, in that private meeting. Yet, she wore it. The silver necklace fell out of her blouse, revealing itself on her neck.

  “Careful, Richard.” Eliza taunted. “I can’t risk breaking another locket.”.

  The King’s eyes furrowed in her face, before slowly drifting to the locket. She watched as his eyes went wide as saucers, in slow recognition.

  “How did you…” Richard’s jaw fell, as his eyes fixated on hers. “Lucie?”.

  Eliza kicked her leg upwards, swinging it into his low stomach. Using every ounce of strength, she gripped him by the collar and flipped them over.

  Richard flung through the air, slamming into the windowpane. The roles had reversed, now she was leaning over him.

  “Elizabeth—” Richard gasped, gripping hold of her forearms. Tears brimmed his eyes, and she enjoyed the fear she finally brought him.

  Eliza stood up, holding him down with her foot. Slowly, stepping backwards, she pulled him from the windowpane.

  She saw relief wash over his face, quickly fading upon seeing hers. Her expression was cold, unforgiving. Eyes shadowed like nightly brim; teeth gritted like a blood-hungry bear.

  “You are such a coward, it’s pathetic.” Eliza taunted, a devious grin meeting her bloodied mouth. “I told you that you would fear me.”.

  Watching the horror creep onto his face, as he slobbered and stumbled, begging under his breath; Eliza smiled for the first time.

  Her next move would be the release of her problems, or another one added with them.

  Eliza took an overdue breath, pulling herself to her feet. Richard stumbled in her grip, nervously grinning at her.

  Yet, that vexing grin, from the cruellest of men. It burned in her mind, and her heart pounded in a frenzy. In an angry yell, she shoved him away.

  Without realising how hard she did it.

  Richard flew backwards, stumbling over numbed feet. He collided with the windowpane. Except, his knees bent backwards. The glimmering crown came flying off his head, soaring through the air.

  Eliza painfully forced out her hand, but it was too late, far too late. King Richard went flying out of the window, and in seconds his upper half was gone, leaving only the shadowy sky.

  The soles of his boots fell last, tipping over the edge with a crack. Then, there was nothing.

  A raw, gut-wrenching roar came from beyond the window. The screaming grew quieter, and quieter, until there was nothing at all.

  A loud bang came from the pit of the tower, silencing the screams. Eliza’s mouth was fallen, covered by her shaking hand.

  All she could see, through blurred vision, was the dark sky from the outdoors. No emotion ran through her, she wondered if even her blood ran, and if it did; it was ice cold.

  ‘This isn’t real, it can’t be r
eal.’.

  Her eyes fell to her feet, and her knees bent, reaching her hand out. The golden crown was beneath her, and she held it through shivering hands.

  The crown of the man she killed.

  The crown she owned.

  20

  A King With No Crown

  ‘Is this what justice is meant to feel like?’ Eliza thought, standing alone in the large room.

  Her vision ran wild with spots of colour and shadows. She had flinched once or twice, upon thinking that she was seeing the ghost of the man she killed. There was nothing there, each time.

  Her eyes turned to the crown, dangling in her hand. It was a strange thought to think, she owned it now. The throne, the crown, everything. Unless there was someone else.

  Eliza gripped onto the crown as it tore into her fingers, before launching it across the room. It rebounded off the windowpane and shot back, landing at her feet.

  ‘It is yours now,’ A voice said, that darned voice. ‘Isn’t that what you wanted, Elizabeth?’.

  “No, no—” Eliza pressed her hands to her temples, praying that it was all a terrible dream. “I never wanted t-this, not this…”.