Chapter 1
Anora
I heard her crying, the wails of mourning shaking the very walls of the castle. I stifled my own cries, standing on the very tips of my toes trying to peer over the shoulder of the castle plaith. The old healer held me back, a hand pressed firmly against my shoulder. I wanted in the room, but they wouldn't allow it, not until mother had proven the disease my father ailed from wasn't contagious.
William looped an arm around my waist, pulling me backward but not before I saw father coughing a fit. He held a handkerchief to his mouth, his body covered in the thick red quilt hand stitched by mother and me. The lights were dim in the room though it was morning, the tall drapes being shut against the glaring sunlight streaming in from the east.
"Let me go, William." I fought against his hand, pulling at the plaith's shoulder. "I need to see him."
"Lady Anora, please don't make this difficult for us." The plaith's voice was soothing as he took me by the shoulders, then cupped my cheeks. He was old, his aged face scared with time, deep crevices across his forehead and beneath his eyes. No doubt he'd seen all the joys and pains of several generations, yet still as full of life as he was the day he'd accepted me from my mother's womb.
"Please, Elwood, I must see my father. Please..." I sobbed, pleading with him, clinging to his robe.
"Enough of this nonsense, Nora." William wasn't so kind. His hasty words and the way he jerked me away from Elwood's comfort infuriated me. The moment he set me loose I was back, trying to squeeze my way into the room, but Elwood caught me. I watched father coughing again, this time as he pulled away the handkerchief it was dotted with blood.
Mother looked up at me, eyes forlorn and empty. She blinked slowly, then accepted the handkerchief from Father. The plaith pulled the massive oak door shut and stood in the corridor with us. He looked like a frail old man, but his weight alone bested mine by double. I fell to my knees, hand splayed on the intricate carving chiseled into the door.
"Father..." I wailed, my heart breaking in two.
"Thank you, Elwood. That will be all until you come again this evening to check on him." I heard him talking but my eyes were squeezed shut against the pain I was feeling. I heard the plaith walk away but still I did not open my eyes.
"By wolf moon, William! He'll be dead by the wolf moon and you won't even let me be with him." I tried to stand, but my legs were weak. William gripped my elbow and yanked me upward. I wanted to spit in his face, slap him, stomp on his foot.
"I'm trying to keep the rest of the castle alive. I can't even go speak with him, so I can only assume that in his stead I must run things until he recovers, or until my coronation is held. This means you will listen to me or I will call the rolt and he will bring his sword and stand outside this door to guard it against your invasion." He squared his shoulders, adjusting his collar. I hated him. All he thought about was the fact that he would be king when Father passed. I was the rightful heir but women were not allowed to serve as queen without being married, so the task fell to him.
I glared at him, my brow in a deep furrow. "I hate you."
"Oh, well I love you too, dear sister," he said with a sinister grin.
Turning on my heel I lifted my skirt and ran down the corridor to my chambers, the sobs coming louder than before. My shoes slapped against the stone, the rush of air that followed me extinguishing a candle and causing the tapestry hung outside my door to wave. My hands fumbled with the latch, tears blinding my ability to see correctly. I barely made out the black iron against the wood it was set in. The door squeaked as it opened and I drew my arm across my face, wiping away the tears and falling back on the door as it shut.
"Oh, dear..." Isabel rushed to my side and I draped myself over her. She helped me to my bed where I collapsed into a heap. The chambermaid rushed around the room collecting a glass of water and a handkerchief. "Anora, what is the matter? Oh goodness."
I sobbed, curling into a ball, not caring about the impropriety of having shoes on in my bed or the fact that I had completely disrespected my brother, who was acting as king while my father ailed. I would certainly hear about that later.
"He's dying!" I couldn't control the grief spewing from my mouth, but Isabel knew exactly how to handle me. She forced me to take the handkerchief but set the water on my nightstand, then she curled herself around me, holding me against her body.
"Shhh, it's okay. I'm here." She pulled the blonde strands out of my face and kissed my cheek softly. "I'm here. It's going to be alright."
"It's not. Father is dying; the plaith doesn't even know what it is. He said by the wolf moon Father will be gone." I held her arm tightly against my chest. "He can't die, Isa. William will become king. You know what that means for us."
Her soft kisses rained on my cheek, comforting me. "I know you're scared. The plaith will find a way."
"He won't. He has no way!" I didn't like that I snapped at her, but she didn't understand.
"There might be a way." Isabel clutched my hand, holding me more tightly. Her words softened my heart. I turned, lying on my back next to her, staring up into her eyes.
"What way?" I searched her expression, trying to determine what she meant. She was no healer. She hadn't heard what the plaith said. If he didn't know what it was, he wouldn't know how to treat it. He'd tried everything and the sickness just kept getting worse.
"There is a woman who... well, she does magic."
I gasped and sat up, jumping off the bed to get away from her as quickly as I could. "A witch?" I backed away. Even the mention of magic inside the walls of Grafburg was punishable by death. I said nothing more, just stared at her calmly sliding from the bed. She sat on the edge, straightening her skirt. The deep red of her dress clashed with the purple fabric of my quilt, her toes barely touching the floor.
"You know your mother is not really your mother." Her chin remained tucked to her chest, her eyes scanning the wooden floor. She was avoiding my gaze.
"Of course, I do. I learned that last summer. My mother died in childbirth with Evan." I trembled, fearing that William stood outside my door listening to her words. If she spoke of the witch, of magic, he'd come and have her removed. I needed Isabel now more than any other time in my life.
"Yes, well she didn't die in childbirth. She traded her life for that of her son. My mother's mother told me this story. That the witch helped your real mother trade her life to save Evan and in doing so enraged the king. He banished her and thus removed magic from all of Kilnshire." As her face turned upward to meet my gaze, her bottom lip trembled. "Evan would have died. The witch saved him. She can do the same for your father. I know it."
The news overwhelmed me, whether it was due to the stress of learning that my father was dying, or the fact that maybe there was an answer, or perhaps it was the way that she spoke of using magic as if it were an everyday occurrence here in Grafburg. I felt my knees go weak and before I hit the ground, Isabel was there, holding me again. Her arms held me up, and I regained my balance, staring up into her eyes.
"But magic is banned. The risk we'd take to make that happen--"
"Is no different than the risk we take every day." Her lips pressed against mine in a cautious but compassionate way. She pulled away and smiled. "We've been secreting away for more than a year, Anora. No one has found out about us. What makes you think they will even care what you're doing? The entire kingdom's eyes will be on your father. No one will be watching you."
"But the witch is banished. No one knows where she is. She left Grafburg after the angry mobs chased her away--her and that man she turned to a beast." I shook, thinking just how dangerous it would be to search for her. Not only was she a powerful woman, but the man-wolf she had was terrifying. He'd tormented the Cerenian Forest and mountains for as long as I could remember. The childhood stories weren't just stories. I'd seen the claw marks on men's backs after returning from a hunt and being attacked.
"I will help you find her." Isabel kissed me again, this time a hungrier kiss, the sort that made my insides melt and my body respond to her. "Now let me help you relax a bit, and we can talk about the plan to find the witch and cure your father." Her kissed returned, deepening against my lips. Each time this happened my body flooded with a mixture of excitement and anxiety, the fear of getting caught coupled with the rush of intimate connection with her.
"I want you..." Isabel whispered. I felt her fingers untying the laces on the back of my dress. They worked dexterously, undoing my gown and pulling it down over my shoulders until my arms were bare and my dress clung to my hips. The corset I wore kept my body covered, but her greedy hands wouldn't relent.