Love Spell: Book 2 of The Grimm Laws

by Youngblood, Jennifer

  Next, the captain of the guard testified. He told how distraught Cinderella was on that night when she was caught with Rushton. “The poor princess was terrified,” he said. “Having seen the princess at various other times, it is my firm belief that she was under the influence of a spell that night. Her face was flush and her demeanor heightened to frenzy. There was a peculiar look in her eyes.” He shivered. “A look that has haunted me ever since. ‘Twas the look of a tortured soul.”

  Seraphina then told how deeply in love Cinderella was with Edward. “He is the light of her life,” she said with glowing eyes that seemed to look through the palace walls and straight up into the heavens. “She loved Prince Edward from the moment she saw him. Rushton meant nothing to her. I can assure you that my daughter never would have agreed to meet that black-hearted knave on her own accord. She was most assuredly under the influence of a spell.” Seraphina had narrowed her eyes and pointed accusingly at Wisteria. “A spell that was conjured by that woman.” The crowd had roared at this, and the council members began talking furiously amongst themselves.

  The biggest surprise came when the chemist was summoned to give his testimony about the vial of potion that was found on Rushton. He walked into the throne hall with stooped shoulders and a shuffled gait. There were dark circles under his eyes like he’d not slept in days. When the judges asked him to hand over the vial in question, his tongue seemed to get lost somewhere inside his scrawny throat as his eyes darted around the hall like a frightened mouse.

  “Hand over the vial and then give us thine expert opinion,” Aalexander commanded, his voice coated with impatience. “Is the potion a love spell?”

  The chemist swallowed. “Your majesty, I regret to inform thee.” He hesitated.

  Aalexander leaned forward, a furrow appearing between his brows. “I demand that you speak!”

  “I no longer have possession of the vial.”

  A murmur went through the crowd.

  “What say you?” Aalexander said, eyeing him.

  “I am uncertain how it happened, but I no longer have the vial,” the chemist repeated. His face was as pale as the marble floor, and he looked like he might faint at any moment.

  “How did you lose possession of the vial?” Aalexander said.

  “It was stolen from my laboratory, sire.”

  Members of the audience began talking furiously amongst themselves. Aalexander pounded his scepter on the floor, even though he was inwardly relieved. This was good news. Having no physical evidence would make it more difficult for a guilty verdict to be rendered. His eyes connected with Wisteria’s, and he was not the least bit surprised when she gave him a triumphant look. She really was something. Somehow, she’d managed to destroy the vial, even though he’d kept her under lock and key. She was his equal in every way. Aalexander held up his hand to quiet the crowd. “’Tis indeed unfortunate that we no longer have the vial in our possession,” he said gravely. He looked directly at the chemist. “What is thine expert opinion? Was the vial a potion that could be used in conjunction with a love spell?”

  The old chemist began to physically shake. “I am sorry to say, sire, that I do not know. I was only beginning to perform the necessary tests when the vial was stolen.”

  Aalexander stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I see.” He waved a hand. “You are dismissed.”

  The chemist hurried from the room.

  Aalexander looked at the council. “We shall no longer dwell on the evidence we do not have but will continue with that which we have.”

  The council members looked like they might argue, but when Aalexander gave them a firm look, they clamped their mouths shut and nodded.

  Under Merek’s direction, the council had been established to serve as the first judges. They would hear all of the testimonies and would then come up with a verdict. Their verdict would be taken before Merek, who would offer his verdict. In most cases, Merek and the council would come to the same conclusion; however, if a dispute arose, then King Aalexander would make the final decision. For all trials of significance, Aalexander would make the final judgment call. Never in the history of his rule, had Aalexander ruled against the opinion of the council and Merek. He hoped and prayed that he would not have to do so today. As long as things went according to plan, the door could be opened, and this silly trial would be null and void.

  Wisteria was glaring at him, and he knew that she was trying to get him to look at her—to lock eyes with him so that she could control him. He could feel the heat of her anger even from across the room, and it took every amount of effort he could summon to ignore her. That he would be so keenly aware of her presence in a crowded room was both astonishing and disconcerting. No wonder Merek was worried. Was Merek right? Was his preoccupation with Wisteria making him weak? She was all he thought about—all he longed for. His eyes went to Loreena, sitting so stiffly with that pinched expression he hated. He could almost see the cold blood running underneath her papery skin. How lifeless she was in comparison to Wisteria. What would happen to her when the door opened? Poor Loreena. He felt a wave of pity for her. Loreena was like a child in many ways. She really believed that executing Wisteria would somehow erase the memory of her from his life. As if the earth could ever forget the sun that gave him light. How naïve she was—his need for Wisteria knew no boundary. Loreena could carve out his heart and lay it on a stone, and his yearning for Wisteria would still live.

  He knew now that he should’ve never married Loreena. He’d thought at the time that if he married then it would erase the sting of Wisteria’s betrayal. Maybe he was the naïve one. He knew now that his connection with Wisteria—be it love or hate—was stronger than him, stronger than any of them. And soon they would join forces to open the door that would offer him another chance. A chance to be the man he should’ve been before. He felt a surge of exultation, but it fast turned to fear. What if something went wrong? He glanced at Edward who was the picture of confidence. Every so often, looks kept going back and forth between him and Cinderella. Edward had persuaded Cinderella to testify against Rushton, he was sure of it. A part of him admired the way Edward handled the situation; however, things would not go according to Edward’s plan. Edward was smarter than he gave him credit for, but Aalexander was a few steps ahead of him.

  Lynessa’s return to the castle was a surprise. It was no doubt a ploy by Wisteria that was intended to divert Edward from Cinderella. To his credit, Edward had refused Lynessa’s advances. It was possible that he truly loved Cinderella after all. Only time would tell.

  Merek had wanted Aalexander to bring Wisteria into the plan prior to the onset of the trial, but Aalexander refused. Even though it would be painful to witness her distress, it would only last for a moment. He wanted her to know that he, Aalexander, would be the one to save her in the end. He wanted to show her that he was still in control—that he could fix things.

  He looked at Merek who gave him an imperceptible nod. The end was nearing. It was almost time for Cinderella to take the stand.

  * * *

  Cinderella was so nervous she could hardly breathe. Seraphina and Josselyn were sitting on either side of her. Their presence was a not-so-subtle reminder that they were expecting her to testify that she’d been under the influence of a spell. She clasped her clammy hands in her lap and tried to will herself to remain calm. It will all be over soon, she told herself. Think of Edward! Think of Edward! Rushton was long gone and would not be hurt by anything she said.

  King Aalexander’s voice boomed through the room, crowding out her thoughts for the time being. “Noble members of the court. Honored citizens of the kingdom. We have heard many important testimonies that have helped to shed light on this perplexing trial. We will now hear from the Princess Cinderella. As was the case with all of those that have testified, she will be under the solemn obligation to tell the truth.” He gave her a meaningful look. “The complete and utter truth.”

  As Cinderella stood, her gaze met Wisteria’s. P
erspiration beaded across her forehead and upper lip. She knows! She knows I’m going to testify against her. She knows I’m going to lie. Panic fluttered in Cinderella’s breast. “I cannot do this,” she whispered to Seraphina.

  “Do not make eye contact with that witch. She is trying to scare thee. You must stay the course.”

  Cinderella started shaking her head back and forth. “Nay, I cannot do this.”

  Seraphina dug her fingernails into Cinderella’s arm. “Look at Edward,” she hissed. “Do it now!”

  Her eyes met Edward’s, and he gave her a reassuring smile. She remembered the feelings of security that had flooded her the night before. She would be okay. This was only a small moment in time, and then it would be over. Edward’s smile gave her the courage to walk up and take her place on the stand.

  A skinny man with a large mustache and watery eyes stepped up to her. His back was curved and his shoulders floppy, reminding her of a writing quill that could be tossed to and fro in the wind without effort. The king motioned for him to begin.

  He cleared his throat and spoke in a commanding voice that seemed incongruent with his frail body. “Princess Cinderella, tell us what happened on the day ye received the letter from Squire Rushton.”

  “The letter was delivered a short time after the start of the morning meal.”

  The man stroked his mustache thoughtfully. “I see. How was the letter delivered?”

  Cinderella glanced at Josselyn who was sitting white-lipped with a stricken expression on her face. Josselyn had slipped her the letter during the morning meal, but there was no way she was going to implicate her sister. Josselyn had told her afterwards that she had no idea that Rushton was going to ask her to sneak out and meet him at the chapel. “He told me he was writing to say goodbye,” Josselyn had uttered through tears.

  “The porter gave it to me,” she said quickly and then looked down at her hands. Her heart acknowledged the fib with a lurch.

  “Did ye receive any other letters that morning?”

  “Aye, one from Seraphina, telling me that she would be arriving at the castle in a fortnight.”

  “So ye took the letters with thee to thy bedchamber? After ye were finished with the morning meal?”

  Cinderella nodded. “Aye, that is correct.”

  “Where ye proceeded to open Squire Rushton’s letter.”

  “Aye.” Cinderella’s throat felt dry and scratchy.

  The mustache man walked over to a table and held up the letter for all to see. A murmur of excitement went through the crowd. He took the letter over to Cinderella and handed it to her.

  Myriads of emotions surfaced when she held the parchment in her hand. They’d taken it from her on the night they took Rushton away, and she never thought she’d see it again. She looked down. Rushton’s bold, reckless handwriting evoked a longing that she wasn’t prepared for. Tears threatened to well, but she blinked them back rapidly.

  “Would ye please read the letter out loud?”

  Her eyes went wide. “What?”

  He motioned. “Read it.”

  “Nay!” The letter was the only tangible thing she had left of Rushton. It was a personal reminder of their relationship. Too personal to share with these strangers.

  The man gave her a quizzical look. His mustache twitched up and down as he spoke. “Princess, need I remind ye that ye are in the great hall of the castle? This is a trial of grave importance. I will ask thee again. Please read the letter. Aloud.”

  She looked at Edward, pleading with him to do something. His expression was pained, and she didn’t know if it was due to her discomfort or her refusal to read the letter. He motioned for her to read it. She took a deep breath and began to read.

  My dearest Cinderella,

  She gulped and continued in a halting voice.

  I thought I could leave and never return, but alas, my broken heart needs closure—to look upon your face one final time before I resign myself to a lifetime without you. Meet me this night, behind the Chapel of Westwood, after the last evening bell has sounded. You must come, Cinderella. You owe me that much.

  Forever yours,

  Rushton

  She couldn’t stop a tear from running down her cheek as he took the letter from her and held it up for inspection. “The edges are singed.” He looked her in the eye. “Could ye please tell the court how this happened?”

  “After I read the letter, I held it too close to the fire.”

  “Ah,” he mused. “You were going to burn it.”

  “Aye,” she admitted.

  “But you could not.”

  “Nay, I mean, aye.”

  He chuckled and rolled his eyes in an exaggerated motion, playing to the crowd. “Ye could burn it or ye could not? Which is it?” This brought laughter from the audience.

  “I chose not to burn it,” she said hotly, glaring at the man.

  “Ye were upset after ye received the letter.”

  “Aye.”

  “Why?”

  This is the part she’d been dreading. She didn’t dare look in Wisteria’s direction but looked straight ahead. “I was angry with Rushton for writing the letter.” At least that part of her testimony was the truth. “I thought he was gone forever and that he was no longer part of my life.”

  “Why did ye ultimately meet him behind the Chapel of Westwood?”

  “I had intended to tell him goodbye.”

  He looked down at the letter. “It says here that ‘You owe me that much.’ What possible debt could the fiancée of the crown prince owe a squire?”

  “Rushton and I were friends many years before I came to the castle—before I became engaged to Edward.”

  “I see.”

  The way he spoke the words made her feel slimy, like he was insinuating that she had been sneaking around with Rushton behind Edward’s back.

  “There is nothing for thee to see,” she said, drawing strength from her anger. “Rushton is a good person. He was a loyal squire to Prince Edward, not some scoundrel.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. Even now ye are defending him.”

  She looked at Edward, whose face was growing darker by the moment. “I am not defending him,” she countered as a burning anger pulsed through her. “You are wasting the time of the court and all of these good people. I prithee, sir, stop braying on like a dim-witted donkey and ask me the question we are all waiting for!”

  Laughter roared, and the man’s mustache started moving furiously as he began fidgeting. “Er, very well. Princess Cinderella, daughter of the late Duke of Welmington, did Squire Rushton place a love spell over thee that compelled thee to meet him behind the Chapel of Westwood?”

  Heaven help me. I am sorry, Rushton. I am so sorry, her mind screamed. “Aye,” she said quietly.

  The man leaned toward her, his eyes lit with victory. “Could ye say that a little louder?”

  “Aye,” she said loudly. “Aye!” She looked at Edward who had a relieved expression on his face.

  A murmur went through the crowd, and all eyes turned to the council.

  King Aalexander nodded. “The council will now adjourn to deliberate over the testimonies they have heard.”

  “She lies!” Wisteria’s penetrating voice seemed to shoot a dart of frigid air through the room.

  More murmuring from the crowd.

  Wisteria stood, glaring at Aalexander. “You and I both know the girl is lying.”

  King Aalexander looked at Cinderella. “Have you spoken the truth?”

  An invisible fist was squeezing Cinderella’s heart, and for a fleeting moment, she didn’t think she’d be able to speak.

  “Have you spoken the truth?” King Aalexander prompted.

  “Aye,” she squeaked, not daring to look at Wisteria. She looked at Edward who gave her a look of reassurance. It would be all right. Somehow, it would be all right.

  * * *

  “Burn her!”

  Aalexander glared out at the crowd to see who ha
d spoken those words, but it was impossible to tell.

  “Burn her.” This came from the other side of the hall. One followed another until the entire crowd seemed to be caught up in the madness. “Burn the witch! Burn the witch!”

  King Aalexander pounded his scepter on the floor. “Enough!” The chanting continued. He stood, rage contorting his features. “Silence!”

  The chanting was snuffed out, leaving a hostile silence in the wake.

  “We are a kingdom of law and order. A verdict has not yet been reached. Until that time …” he eyed the crowd, daring them to contradict him “… until that time, you will remain silent.” He looked at the council. “You are hereby dismissed where you will retire to the justice chamber to deliberate.” He waited until the council members arose to their feet and then gave a slight nod to the guard that was standing off to the side. At his signal, the guard strode up to the throne and whispered something into Aalexander’s ear.

  The council members were halfway to the large doors leading out of the hall before Aalexander stopped them. “Wait! It seems that we have a new development.” The council members halted, looking confused. Aalexander commanded them to return to their seats and then motioned to the guards. “Bring them in.”

  Murmurs went through the crowd as everyone turned to see who was entering through the large wooden doors in the rear of the hall.

  The crowd parted to reveal three figures making their way up to the throne. The two men in the front had their wrists bound together and the third, a maiden, was leading the rear. She might’ve been beautiful were it not for the grim expression on her pale face and her blood-red hair flying out behind her like a battle flag whipping in the wind. She walked with haughty, stiff movements as she shoved her captors forward.

  When they reached the throne, King Aalexander smiled, and a peculiar expression came over his face. “Well, this is indeed a surprise. Welcome home, Squire Rushton,” he said, looking over at Wisteria.