The Last Witch (Incenaga Trilogy) (15 page)

After some time h
er body reached complete exhaustion and she leaned back, sighing in contentment. A movement caught her eye, and her breath caught at the sight of a young man dressed in the rich fabrics of Dolmerti. He sat in the corner watching her, his brooding expression dark and menacing. Leaning forward, he placed his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. He held her gaze without fear for several long moments and then stood to leave. With a curt bow, he marched out.

Every ounce of joy
drained from Emmeline. How long had he been watching her, brooding in silence? An uneasy knot festered in her chest. Was he the Crown Prince? Was he the man she was to marry? He was nothing like the King.

Adelia carried in a stack of linens. “
Lovely playing, My Lady.”

“Thank you, but who was that man who just left my room?”

“Did you not make introductions?”

Emmeline shook her head.

“That was Prince Weldon.”

Emmeline’s shoulders relaxed as
she let out a long breath, relieved that the brooding man wasn’t her future husband. But he was going to be her brother. Her shoulders hitched up again.

“He is a charming man, isn’t he?” Adelia said
.

“
I’m not sure. He didn’t say a word to me.”

“
Odd. Perhaps he didn’t want to interrupt your playing. It was so angelic, My Lady.”

Emmeline resisted the impulse to forget the whole situation
or put it off to deal with later. He would be her brother soon, and she felt a responsibility to meet him.

“
Would you mind taking me to him?” she asked Adelia. “Perhaps I could introduce myself.”

“Of course,
My Lady. That is an excellent idea. I’ll let him know you would like an audience with him.” She curtsied and left the room.

Emmeline rose from behind the
harp and walked to the window. What could she have done to deserve such a glare from someone she’d never met! Perhaps he didn’t approve of her humble upbringing, or was uncomfortable with having an unpredictable witch in the palace.

S
uddenly she regretted sending Adelia to find Prince Weldon. She should have waited until morning. But knowing it was too late to stop Adelia, Emmeline folded her arms and stared out the dark window.

Adelia returned
a short while later with regret on her face. “I was told that Prince Weldon left in a hurry. He didn’t tell anyone where he was going or when he’d be back. I’m so sorry My Lady.”

“That is quite all right,” Emmeline said with a little too much enthusiasm. “Now that he has returned, I’m sure we’ll meet soon.”

“His servants said he was quite agitated. Are you sure he didn’t say anything at all?”

“I’m positive
. I was playing my harp when I noticed him watching me. And then he left without a word.”

“Well, don’t let this incident taint your judgment of him.
He must have something on his mind. You’ll see. He is a wonderful prince.”

“I’m sure he is.
” Yet she had already grown wary of Prince Weldon. The way he glared at her had sent a chill down her spine.

Adelia
hummed her usual tune as she set to the task of putting linens away. It was a sweet, lyrical tune that usually soothed Emmeline when she was tense, but it didn’t seem to be working its usual magic. Why had the Prince behaved so rudely? The chamber’s stone walls pressed down on her, their unyielding strength smothering her into submission. A sudden urge to escape engulfed her. She didn’t care about the fog outside; she needed a few minutes in the open air to clear her mind.

“Adelia,
I forgot a book in the library. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“I don’t mind grabbing it for you,
My Lady,” Adelia said.

“
Thank you, but I could use the chance to stretch after all those hours at the harp.”

“As you wish,
My Lady. Enjoy your stroll.”

Emmeline
quickened her step, winding her way through the palace and into the library. The guards were quick on her trail, but as before, they allowed her to enter the library unattended. The renovations had been halted for the day, casting an eerie silence over the room. Emmeline slipped past the stained glass windows and into the darkness of the hidden corridor.

Whispers
met her ears and she froze mid stride. Suspicion would arise if someone found her so late in the evening with no candle to light her way. Mahlon would hear of it. Emmeline cringed at what his reaction might be. He would surely board up the passage and any other hidden passage in the palace.

Emmeline
pressed herself against the cold marble and strained to hear the direction of the whispers. If they were in the dark corridor, she might be able to run back to the library unseen. If they were in the library, she could continue down the corridor and wait them out.

As
her breathing slowed, she realized the whispers were not coming from inside the palace at all. One of the stained glass windows had been cracked open and the whispers were floating in from outside. Emmeline crept to the open window and peeked out but the fog was too thick to see more than a few inches from the window.

“See to it that she is aware of what is expected of her by tomorrow night,” a man
said. “Do you understand me?”

“
Tomorrow.” another man whispered.

Emmeline stifled a gasp. She recognized the voice
of the second one. It was the same quiet voice he used to command her and frighten her. She was right! She knew Mahlon was involved somehow. He reeked of deceit and treachery.

“Good,” the first m
an said. “She needs time for the threat of her father’s life to force her into obedience.”

“Where did you take
him?” Mahlon said. “She is a curious, head-strong girl; I don’t want her discovering him while she explores the palace.”

“D
on’t insult me. Of course I thought of that. I took him to the prisons of Volarcus. He will remain there for the duration.”

“Excellent.”

“What are our numbers?”

“
Thirty, but they are devoted. They will recruit more before Albin’s meeting, I am sure of it. Once the girl fulfills our demands, she will be taken care of as well. Your plan is flawless.”

“Yes, it is
. About the girl—”

A
door squeaked open from the other side of the courtyard and the conversation ceased. Their footsteps faded away until only the sound of her frantic breathing filled the room. Emmeline no longer wanted to go outside. She wasn’t sure that she wanted to go to her room either. She didn’t feel safe anywhere. It seemed that everywhere she turned there were whisperers plotting and planning in secret.

A
s Emmeline processed what they had said, began to tremble. Her father was in prison? She’d thought he was safe in Pamizak and all along he had been in some dank dungeon. Her blood boiled with inaction. She had to find a way to help him. Mahlon and the other man were right about one thing; she would do anything to save her father.

Emmeline leaned her
forehead against the cold stone. Her head throbbed. What did they mean she would be taken care of? Sent away? Killed? Abused? And what were the demands they wanted her to fulfill? Whatever they were, she wouldn’t have to wait long to find out. Tomorrow, Mahlon had whispered. Tomorrow.

Emmeline awoke to the sound of wind and rain beating against her windows. The sky was dark, the clouds churning as they sent torrents of rain to the ground.

Emmeline fell back on
to her pillows, gritting her teeth in frustration. She would have to endure another day trapped inside the palace. Her one solace was in knowing she had a harp to help pass the time. And it did. The day swept passed her and before she knew it the moon had replaced the sun in the sky.

Adelia carried
a tray of mouth watering meats and pastries into Emmeline’s chamber, humming a tune that was becoming more and more familiar.

“What is that you are humming?” Emmeline asked.

“It’s a lullaby my mother used to sing. I don’t remember the words so I just hum it.”

“It’s lovely.”

“Thank you, My Lady.” She looked out the window and clicked her tongue. “I hope this rain stops before the Pravoli Festival tomorrow night.”

A rush of panic coursed through Emmeline.
“It’s tomorrow?” Just thinking about the meeting after the festival made her mouth go dry.

Adelia studied Emmeline. “Are you
feeling alright?”

“I’m fine. I just got excited about the
Pravoli Festival, the way you carry on about it. Will it be cancelled?”

“No, just postponed,” Adelia said
. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Emmeline wiped her moist hands on her skirt and turned her lips
into what she hoped was a convincing enough smile. “Are you planning on attending the Pravoli Festival?” she asked.

“
I won’t leave you here alone. I would feel terrible!”

“Can’t I go with the guards?”

“Mahlon will never let you leave the palace, even for the festival. I’ll go next year.”

“Nonsense,
I want you to go. You shouldn’t be cooped up in here just because I have to be.”

“I am your handmaiden,
My Lady,”

“And I am y
our future Princess. I insist you go. You can tell me all about it when you return.”

Adelia cons
idered it for a moment but Emmeline knew she would relent. The excitement was already bubbling on her face.

“I’ll
remember as much as I can,” Adelia said, “and I’ll tell you all about it!”

Emmeline nodded in agreement and
turned to the meal set before her. She couldn’t let Adelia suspected anything at all. If she thought Emmeline was upset, Adelia would never leave her side and Emmeline wouldn’t be able to escape. It was imperative she go to Albin’s Pub and listen in on the rebel’s meeting. Not only did she hope to learn what their plans were for her, but she hoped to discover something that might help the Crown Prince in his efforts to prevent the war. She owed it to her father’s people.

Adelia scurried from room to room
as she prepared Emmeline’s bath. She worked faster than usual, snatching a gown from Emmeline’s wardrobe and dumping random salts into the water.

“
It’s late, Adelia. I can just bathe in the morning.” Emmeline bit into a pastry. The warm, gooey center melted in her mouth and warmed her throat.

“Prince Weldon
returned this afternoon and has requested an audience with you. He wants you to join him in his study as soon as you are able.”

Emmeline’s appetite
vanished. She pictured the brooding gentlemen from the night before, his penetrating stare unreadable. What could he want? Her stomach twisted into knots.

“Isn’t it late for visits?” Emmeline asked, hopeful.

“He said to bring you as soon as you were finished playing your harp, no matter the hour.”

“
You could have stopped me earlier.”

“He forbade it.”

“He’ll think I’m rude if I call on him at this hour.”

“No, not at all, My Lady. He is accustomed to late visitors.”

“But the sun set hours ago. I’m not permitted to leave my room at this hour.”

“Prince Weldon’s orders go above Mahlon’s.
You were still playing your harp after the sun had set so he ordered the staff to their chambers for the night. Don’t worry, no one will see you.”

Left with no other argument, Emmeline slipped into the hot bath,
determined to stay under the soothing water until her stomach calmed, or at least until Prince Weldon realized how late it was and postponed their meeting. But the water grew cold and Adelia insisted she get out. Emmeline cringed, waiting for Adelia to notice the bruises. It had been less than a week since Mahlon’s brutal treatment. But when Adelia said nothing, Emmeline looked down and was surprised to see that most of the bruises had faded. She wondered at the abnormality until she recalled how good the fire had felt the night she had practiced on her own. The flames were so different then they had been with Mahlon.

Adelia
threw a royal blue gown over Emmeline’s shoulders. “It is the exact color of your eyes,” she said. “Well, it would have been if you’d let me dress you hours ago. Perhaps you would prefer your silver gown tonight?”

Emmeline shook her head. “Blue is fine.”

Beneath the deep blue silk swished layers of slips and petticoats as soft as feathers. The dress hugged her figure and Emmeline’s cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. She considered requesting a more ordinary dress, perhaps prolonging her departure even longer, but Adelia gushed over Emmeline’s beauty and ushered her to a stool.