Page 30 of The Witch Queen

“Like bloodletting?” I ask, gesturing to Papa’s arm, where a bandage is wrapped around his elbow. “Did you know that some realms have abolished the practice? He’s only going to get weaker if you keep draining him like this.”

The doctor offers me a tight smile. “I would remind Your Highness that I’ve treated your father since he was younger than you are now.”

I bristle against his cloying, condescending tone. “Yes, and look at him. It’s like he’s not even in there.”

Ayleth stiffens. But the physician steps closer to me.

“And what of you, Highness? Have you suffered any more…episodes?”

I flinch at the reminder of the fever that began shortly after Mother’s death. The blurred, worried faces hovering above me. Sweat sticking to my bedclothes. A pain in my head that I was convinced would cleave me in half. But the physical torment was nothing compared to the nightmares. For weeks, I was hounded by creeping shadows and visions of the most monstrous creatures I could ever imagine.

Cursed.That old word rolls around the curves of my skull.You are cursed.

“The princess is the picture of health,” Aunt Margaret answers for me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I personally supervised her convalescence.”

She did. Aunt Margaret remained by my side from the minute I entered her home. She sat by my bed, spooning broth into my mouth and comforting me after my nightmares. No one else here can say that. Especially notAyleth.

“Even so…you do look a bit tired, Your Highness” the physician comments, frowning. “Perhaps some rest after your journey is in order to settle your…humors?”

“An excellent idea,” Ayleth rushes to agree. “I’ll have someone show you to your rooms.”

“Oh, don’t worry about us,” Aunt Margaret replies airily. “I know my way. Everyone seems to forget that I used to live here.”

Ayleth hesitates, perhaps reluctant to leave us alone with Papa. But Aunt Margaret finally wins the battle of wills. She usually does.

“If you’ll excuse me, then,” Ayleth says, “I have other matters to attend to.”

I don’t bother to curtsy as she exits the chamber. As soon as she’s gone, I move closer to Aunt Margaret.

“She has something to do with this,” I say under my breath.

“Perhaps,” Aunt Margaret muses. “But I’m not sure it matters.”

“Doesn’t matter? But—”

“It will do no good to cast accusations we can’t prove,” Aunt Margaret insists, keeping her own voice low. “Besides, running headlong into a lance is precisely the sort of idiotic stunt your father would undertake. But you’re not wrong. Your stepmother—”

“Don’tcall her that,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Thequeen,” Aunt Margaret amends, “is certainly benefitting from the current arrangement. She’s clever. We must be more so. Which means you must mind that temper.”

She arches an eyebrow at me. Of all the lessons Aunt Margaret has provided over the years,thathas been the one I’ve struggled most to master. Sometimes, it seems as though my anger is a living force inside me. That I can feel it expanding between my bones. The sensation isn’t entirely unwelcome. After all, anger is what prevented me from drowning in the sea of grief after Mother’s death.

“You did well today, though,” Aunt Margaret continues with a nod of approval. “Winning the council was half the battle.”

“Did I win?” I ask, bitter. “They only agreed because they need your army.”

“An army thatshedoesn’t have,” Aunt Margaret reminds me. “And soon she won’t have anything else, either. She isn’t the first grasping climber to darken these halls. Within a month, we’ll banish her to whatever hovel she slithered out of. Until then, I highly suggest that youfocus.And keep out of her way.”

“No need to worry about that.”

Ayleth is thelastperson here I want to see.

I glance back in the direction the so-called queen went. For an instant, it seems as though the candles dim. Like the shadows lengthen. In their depths, twin spots of light gleam—like a pair of eyes.

But then I blink and the illusion is gone.

Chapter Nine