Bewitched

by Kaila Patterson

  The scarlet alcohol swirled within the cup, as she awkwardly sat it on her knee. Never once would she drink alcohol, she could never have afforded it.

  ‘Rich people drink wine all the time.’ Her mind said. ‘Don’t react, act like you have done this before.’.

  He poured himself a goblet, resting his feet on the small table. Eliza felt a rush of second-hand embarrassment.

  Kings, she thought, were supposed to be formal and sophisticated. It seemed wrong for him to act in such a manner.

  She remained silent, focusing on the goblet in her hands. The silver cup caused her to sweat. To herself, she prayed to show no reaction.

  Richard cleared his throat, as he downed his drink in one fast gulp, before slamming the cup onto the table.

  ‘Is that how you do it?’ She thought, ‘Follow that, then.’.

  Imitating his movements, she raised her own cup. In one quick shot, Eliza downed the wine in one gulp, but the wrong way.

  Eliza froze as her throat burned like an erupting fire. In a second, she spat the wine out, spluttering and coughing into her lap.

  The King did nothing, watching her with a gleam in his eye. She spluttered and choked into her hand, gasping for air.

  ‘This tastes like poison,’ She thought, ‘What if it is?’.

  “I-I am so sorry.” She croaked. That was a lie, if anything she was purely embarrassed. However, as she had to keep reminding herself, she was playing Lucie’s part.

  Richard laughed, the hearty chuckle echoing in her ears. Her shoulders clenched as she sat firmly on the chair, careful to avoid another mistake.

  She hated the man with every bone in her body, but her friend respected him, so she had to continue the act.

  Eliza carefully kept her head low, but tried to make her voice confident, like Lucie would.

  His laughter died eventually, changing to deep chuckling. He focused intently on her face, lowered towards her hands.

  Eliza felt like she was in a hotseat, trying to keep composure whilst internally losing it.

  “Can you withhold a secret, Benson?” Richard said. For the first time, Eliza felt intimidated by the man. Goosebumps ran down her arms.

  ‘He’s trying to intimidate you,’ Her mind said, ‘Remain unfazed.’.

  “Always.” She replied. His eyes flashed, but he kept his calm, exactly as she did.

  Richard removed his feet from the table, his hand on his chin. His brow furrowed, and he took a long sip of the wine.

  The King’s gaze still rested on her, like he was conjuring a war within his mind.

  “Good, someone in this cursed place can.” He scoffed, pressing his cup firmly against his lip. Richard stared towards the fireplace, the blazing fire reflecting within his eyes.

  Internally, Eliza sighed with relief.

  She was no fool when it came to standing her ground, but she could sense that he was not either.

  His mind was like a storm thriving; he would kill you or kiss you depending on the weather.

  Her fingers tapped gently on the arm of the chair, prompting him to speak. Eliza’s own mind was desperate to know what was conjuring inside his head.

  Whether it involved her or not, it was surely wicked.

  “Your Highness does this secret involve—” Eliza inhaled a sharp breath, and his eyes darted towards her. “A specific person?”.

  He clicked his tongue. A long murmur came from his throat, but no response. He lifted his fingers into the air, squishing them together.

  “You know, I am at the heart of this country; I could overthrow any specimen that dares defy me.” Richard growled, clenching his fist together.

  Eliza nodded, encouraging him. She knew that his announcement was off topic, but any information she could learn was of benefit; regardless of how she found out.

  “I could slaughter any man, with reason or without it.” He continued, shaking his fist towards her. His lip was curled with fury, and his eyes turned a shade of coal. “I have before, and it leaves but a smear on my conscience.”.

  She smiled back at him, but her eyes fell. The man was so divulged into power, he no longer acknowledged morals, and he considered no one.

  ‘Ambition can do great damage to a person,’ Eliza thought, ‘Or a carelessness for morality.’.

  Richard’s fist slammed onto the table with a thud, making her jump out of her skin.

  It was daunting for her to realise that he was so absorbed in his self-righteous proclaims, he barely noticed she was there.

  “Yet, that woman proposes that I take no responsibility for what I have done. In my own lifetime, I lost it all and more, still that woman--” Richard’s heavy breaths were all that was heard in the room, “She dare try to portray me as a villain?”.

  Eliza had leaned back, shifting her seat away. King Richard lifted a goblet, only to slam it onto the ground. A splash of wine splashed into the fire, provoking a roar. However, his words repeated in her mind.

  “You lost it all in your lifetime? You are saying that all the lives, all the war,” Eliza questioned, her pitched voice rising higher. “Is because of self-pity?”.

  The last part came out accidentally, and she stopped herself from reaching for her mouth.

  Eliza knew she meant every word she said, that was the issue. She prepared for a storm of rage to flood at her, for to meet his wrath.

  His eyes were focused on the fireplace. Auburn flames danced within his raven eyes, as his mouth stayed.

  He was in great thought, or he had ignored her entirely; for once she could not tell.

  “No, I do not pity anyone,” Richard replied, a sharp warning in his tone. “To pity is an act of self-degradation, especially when against oneself.”.

  He shifted his gaze towards her, watching with intent. His manner was unreadable, and he stood frozen as he continued.

  “I do not expect you to understand that.”.

  Eliza found no use in arguing back. She had said enough, and it was purely her luck he was too in thought to hear what she said.

  Richard turned on his heel, pacing back across the room. He grabbed hold of a wooden drawer and pulled it open, rummaging for something. With a slight smirk, he raised a small box into the air.

  “Close your eyes.”.

  Eliza froze, as she reluctantly closed her eyes. She had no idea what the box held, but many options came to mind.

  She narrowed it down to the fact that it could not be good.

  Her ears became her strongest sense, as she listened to the tap of his feet across the floor. She felt him rest his hand on her shoulder.

  ‘He’s going to kill you.’ Her mind said, as she shook the thought away.

  She felt his hand brush the inside of her neck, and a weight landed on her chest. The iced metal sent shivers down her spine.

  The edge of his fingers secured a chain at the back of her neck. Then, it dawned on her what it was.

  “I noticed the condition of your old locket,” He announced, as Eliza opened her eyes. The locket was exquisitely beautiful, a silver outline with a reflective, sapphire jewel. “Consider yourself fortunate that it broke.”.

  ‘It’s clear why he’s doing this,’ Eliza thought, ‘He wants something from me, from Lucie.’.

  “Cursed?” Eliza asked. He skimmed past her and lowered himself onto his chair. As she sat down, he gave a I-know-a-lot-more-than-you look.

  “It was the locket of Elizabeth Spinner, wasn’t it?” He grinned, staring right at her.

  It gave her a strange nausea to hear her own name again, and her first instinct said that he knew who she was, that she should run.

  “Yes, she gave it to me.” Eliza replied, thinking on her feet. “I wore it as a sign of remembrance.”.

  He nodded, suspense in the air. She felt unafraid of him, in her own circumstance, but she had to play her part.

  “Rumours have surfaced, accusing me of targeting this witch, claiming that this insufferable girl’s arrest has more meaning.” Richard stated.


  “That is why you brought me here,” Eliza said, peering down at the locket. “You gave me this locket, to win me over, to get information from me.”.

  Standing up, The King marched across the royal chamber. He towered over her seat, leaning into her face.

  “Precisely, Benson.” Richard nodded, “Don’t tell me you are surprised?”.

  “No, Your Majesty.”.

  He raised his hand, placing a finger to his lips for her to be silent. Richard’s head shot behind him, searching. Strangely, he flinched, like he was afraid of an unseeable person.

  “Is something wrong?”.

  Richard spun around, taking a long breath. He shook himself awake, placing a hand to his head. “No, no.”.

  Eliza nodded, keeping her head low. His face was still, but there was a rage within his eyes.

  The flames still danced, even if his sight was no longer on the fireplace, but on her. Returning to normality, Richard knelt.

  “That witch will be the death of me. I spend my life searching for answers, yet I cannot rest until she is dead.” Richard ranted, flinging his hands around aimlessly.

  “Answers?” Eliza confronted. She hated putting ideas into his mind, but curiosity flooded from her mouth before it could be stopped. “Why must you pursue answers, if you do not need them?”.

  “That is not your concern, Benson.”.

  “I cannot help but think, Your Majesty.”.

  “A woman in your standing should not waste herself thinking,” Richard spat, “I would argue that a woman should not think at all.”.

  Her mouth opened to protest but silenced before he noticed. Lucie would have shut her mouth after the first warning. Lucie would have politely apologised. Lucie would have admired and passively listened.

  “Yes, Your Highness.” Eliza mumbled, hating the words she spoke. “My sincere apologies.”.

  Ignoring her, Richard reached up to grab her locket. He studied it, yanking her neck into her lap.

  “Instead of wearing a cursed piece of metal, wear this instead.”.

  “Well, I—".

  A thud came from the corridor, and the two of them froze. A smirk formed on The King’s face, as the sounds got louder.

  The door to The King’s Chamber swung open with a crack, but Richard remained unfazed.

  Queen Grace marched into the room; her cheeks flushed with rage. Her face was merciless, as pure anger lined her features.

  Her faintly blonde hair had been pulled out of place, and she wore a sea-blue gown made of silk. A shimmering crown sat in her messed hair.

  Eliza squirmed away from The King. A sly look was in his eyes, and he appeared unsurprised by the outburst. Mariah and Cynthia stumbled into the room, gasping for air.

  “What is the meaning of all this?” The Queen yelled, strutting over to The King. In a flash, her hand whipped forward, slapping him across the face. A harsh crack echoed through the room, as The King’s face flew sidewards, flushed scarlet.

  Richard was startled, groaning in pain. The two rage-fused partners met face-to-face, as he grabbed her by the forearms and dug his face into hers.

  “Go on, darling.” Richard scowled, banging his forehead against her own. The two maidens turned pale white, and Eliza scurried onto her feet, rushing to meet them.

  She ran across the wood floor, standing at Cynthia’s side. The three ladies-in-waiting stood awaiting a command.

  The no.1 rule for ladies-in-waiting, Eliza knew: ‘Amidst or in the presence of higher standing, thou shan’t speak unless spoken to.’.

  “Nothing happened, I swear on my life.” Eliza whispered, tugging on Cynthia’s arm. “What did The Queen say?”.

  “Well, she was terribly upset, but she does not blame you.” Cynthia explained, whispering into her ear. “His Majesty has been deceiving her for years.”.

  The King and Queen were arguing under their breath, The King pointing daggers into her face and Queen Grace waving her arms around. Mariah glanced between the two royals, indecisive.

  ‘I’m done for.’ Eliza thought.

  “You are a lying, horrid, cheating—” Queen Grace ranted into The King’s snarky grin, murmuring some words Eliza was glad she could not hear from far away.

  “I’m a what, my dear?” Richard sniggered, clenching his fist.

  “A coward, and a cold-blooded one. You know what could happen if the inevitable truth was revealed.” Queen Grace scowled, touching her nose to his. “You shall never admit it, but it frightens you, Richard.”.

  She could hear what they were saying, but it sounded backwards. Their words turned muffled and low, and her vision clouded.

  The King inhaled sharply, grabbing Grace by her arms.

  That same fire, rage still burned in his eyes. It reflected within the light and reflected the inner confliction of The King.

  War formed inside his eyes, a violent shadow like no other. When war is not forming between two places, but inside one person; that was when you ran like daylight could not catch you.

  “You have your long-awaited proof, the right to divorce me if you wish.” Richard warned. His grip on her arm looked tight enough to reach her bone. “We’ll see if you have the gut.”.

  It became clear, clearer than before. The man who called himself King, who relied on his title to save him, who knew his name was all he was worth.

  He was nothing in reality’s harsh glare; he was but the flaking remains of a man, clinging onto what little love he had, in his own wife.

  “Seventeen years we’ve been married, and you still fail to realise how you need me. You think having an heir is of sole importance, that you need to have a pretty wife.” Grace scoffed.

  “And? You tell me this, why?”.

  “Someday you will see the truth. The most valuable thing you owned was having someone who loved you unconditionally, someone who genuinely cared; but was undervalued.”.

  Richard’s eyes widened as he backed away from her, shaking his head. He did not appear afraid. Instead, his face lightened up with a sour smirk.

  “Au revoir, darling. I have a thorough list of charming young women who would give a lot to be where you are.” Richard laughed, shaking off the illusion that overwhelmed him.

  “Is that a fact?”.

  “Indeed, it is.”.

  Queen Grace breathed in sharply, stepping away from her husband. The far-more-humanized woman seemed appalled at what had become of him.

  She wiped at her eyes, turning her flushed face away from him. Grace started to march out of the room, waving a hand for the maidens to follow.

  Eliza walked out last, exhaling a breath of relief. She turned one final time and saw The King smirking at her. In a quick move, she shut the door behind her.

  Queen Grace stood with her face turned. The woman was crying, reaching for her swollen eyes.

  Eliza knew, after everything, it was not her place to speak.

  The other two maidens rushed over to Queen Grace, holding onto her hands and mumbling words of support.

  Cynthia pulled the woman’s hair from her sticky face, Mariah shushed her softly. Eliza stood, doing nothing.

  ‘I’ve ruined Lucie’s reputation, entirely.’.

  Queen Grace had forever been sweet to the people, but as she cried, she glared righteously at Eliza.

  It made no impact, for the feeling of guilt she had gotten incredibly used to.

  It was that familiar empty feeling in her chest, and it was there every second of her life. Guilt.

  Eliza had come to realise that when you rarely felt comfort, and instead only felt guilt and hurt, that feeling of hurt turns to a feeling of comfort.

  Guilt was unavoidable, and it now became something she started to ignore; she had gotten used to it.

  Eliza stood in that hallway, the guilty one. The other one, as she always had been, and forever would be.

  That night, she had sat in a heap of her own wet tears.

  Her temples throbbed as she thought, frustrated by the an
swers she was never told, and might never know.

  She lay staring at the cold, brick ceiling above Lucie’s bed, her mother’s journal wrapped against her stomach.

  Eliza opened it, skimming the pages before reading the next entry.

  Account four.

  Dear Elizabeth,

  This day has been utterly terrible; it was your grandparents, George’s parents, death anniversary. You will not know of grandparents, on either side, and it is a pity. I dare not speak of my own parents, for they quite despised me, as far as I would know.

  However, your father’s parents passed due to sickness a few years ago today, and they hated me equally. I will regret saying this, but I say your grandmother was a wicked old—.

  Your ever-so-polite mother,

  A.S

  12

  A Conflicted Captain

  The following day, Eliza journeyed on another visit to her father. With her limited lifetime, she decided every moment she could spend should be a blessing.

  The thought of dying itself still haunted her, but not while she walked.