A Tale of Witchcraft... Page 16

  Adding Lucy to her ongoing list of grievances had finally pushed Brystal over the edge. She wasn’t just distraught anymore—Brystal was horribly depressed.

  That morning, her office doors swung open and Tangerina, Skylene, and Xanthous walked in. Their faces were covered in flour, and they wore aprons doused in egg yolks and baking grease. It had been three days since Mrs. Vee retreated into her chambers and the housekeeper was still too frightened to come out. Without any other cooks on hand, Tangerina, Skylene, and Xanthous had had no choice but to take on Mrs. Vee’s cooking responsibilities. After making breakfast for the whole Fairy Territory, the fairies looked as if they had been to war and back. They collapsed on Brystal’s sofa and kicked their feet up onto her tea table.

  “Well, breakfast was served,” Xanthous said. “Or should I say, it served us.”

  “What a day,” Tangerina said. “And it’s not even noon yet.”

  “I’m never going to take Mrs. Vee for granted again,” Skylene said. “When she comes out of her room, I’m going to compliment every meal she makes and laugh at every one of her terrible jokes.”

  “If she ever comes out,” Tangerina said. “She locked her door and doesn’t even respond when I knock!”

  “Brystal, have you spoken with Mrs. Vee?” Xanthous asked.

  Brystal was staring out the window, lost in a train of somber thoughts, and didn’t hear his question. Xanthous cleared his throat and tried again.

  “Brystal? Have you spoken with Mrs. Vee?”

  “No,” she mumbled softly.

  “Have you found any new information about the Three Thirty-Three?” Tangerina asked.

  “No.”

  “What can we do to help you?” Skylene asked.

  “No.”

  Xanthous, Tangerina, and Skylene eyed one another with concern—clearly, something was wrong with Brystal. Before they had a chance to question her further, Emerelda entered the office. She held an envelope with a royal seal and carried it to Brystal with an urgency in her step.

  “Brystal, a messenger just delivered this for you,” she said.

  Emerelda tried to give her the envelope, but Brystal wasn’t responsive.

  “Brystal, did you hear me?”

  Still, Brystal didn’t move a muscle or make a sound. Impatient, Emerelda pointed to the high ceiling and sent dozens of bright, screeching, emerald fireworks through the office. The sound made everyone jump, and Brystal snapped out of her trance.

  “I’m sorry, did you say something?” Brystal asked.

  “I said this just arrived for you,” Emerelda said. “It’s from the Champion Castle.”

  “Oh,” Brystal said. “Just write back and tell them we aren’t doing any public appearances right now.”

  “It’s more of a personal request,” Emerelda said. “Trust me, you’ll want to read it.”

  Curious, Brystal took the envelope and read the letter inside.

  Dear Brystal,

  It was wonderful meeting you at Barrie and Penny’s wedding. Aside from being attacked by a fleet of mysterious men and getting shot in the leg, I thought it was a lovely ceremony! How about you?

  I’d like to invite you for tea at the Champion Castle so we can continue our conversation about The Tales of Tidbit Twitch. I’m free tomorrow at noon, but since I’m seventh in line for the throne and have nothing important do, anytime is also a good time for me.

  If you’re available, please send my messenger back with a date and time that work for you, but if not, you can just keep him.

  Of course, I’m kidding—his wife would kill me.

  Hope to see you very soon,

  Sincerely,

  His Royal Highness, Prince Gallivant Victorious Heroic Courageous Champion of Chariot Hills, Duke of Southwestington, Lord of Southeasternshire, Earl of Southnorthernburry, and a bunch of other things I can’t remember at the moment.

  (AKA Seven)

  Without realizing it, Brystal smiled and chuckled as she read Seven’s letter. Her friends stared at her like they were witnessing a miracle—they couldn’t remember the last time they had seen anything make Brystal happy.

  “Who’s the letter from?” Tangerina asked.

  “A prince I met at my brother’s wedding,” Brystal said. “He invited me for tea.”

  The fairies became giddy, as if it was a much bigger deal than Brystal was letting on.

  “Interesting,” Xanthous said. “How old is he?”

  “Close to my age,” she said.

  “Is he cute?” Tangerina asked.

  “Extremely. But why would that matter?”

  “Oh my gosh!” Skylene exclaimed. “Brystal got asked on a date!”

  Her friends were thrilled to have something positive to talk about. Brystal waved their excitement off, like she was fanning the flames of a fire.

  “It’s not a date,” she assured them. “We just really enjoyed talking to each other and have a lot of things in common and—” Brystal paused and thought about what she was saying. “Actually, it might be a date.”

  “Well, are you going to go?” Xanthous asked.

  “Of course not,” Brystal said. “There’s too much going on and I haven’t been feeling—”

  Emerelda raised a hand to silence her. “Brystal, you’re going,” she said.

  “What? But I can’t!”

  “Yes, you can,” Emerelda insisted. “You’ve been moping around the academy since Pip ran off with the witches. I know we have a lot to worry about right now, but taking one afternoon off isn’t going to make anything worse. All our problems will be waiting for you when you get back.”

  “Besides, if you don’t have tea with the handsome prince, I will,” Tangerina warned her.

  Brystal groaned at the peer pressure. The twinkling northern lights on the globe caught her eye and she remembered her conversation with Madame Weatherberry in the cavern. The fairy had told Brystal to surround herself with people who made her laugh and distracted her from her troubles. And at the moment, Seven seemed to be the only person in the world who made her feel anything but sorrow. The idea of seeing him again made Brystal excited, and she had forgotten what it was like to look forward to something.

  “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt,” Brystal said.

  Her friends were even more excited than she was and jumped up and down.

  “What are you going to wear?” Xanthous asked.

  Brystal shrugged. “Probably one of my pantsuits,” she said.

  “How are you going to get there?” Skylene asked.

  “Probably by bubble. Why do you ask?”

  The fairies seemed disappointed in her choices.

  “Pantsuits and bubbles are just a little basic,” Tangerina said. “I mean, you’re having tea with a prince! You should wear a ball gown and take Madame Weatherberry’s golden carriage!”

  “I’ll help you pick out an outfit!” Xanthous said.

  “And I’ll do your makeup!” Skylene said.

  “Guys, the prince asked Brystal to tea because he likes Brystal,” Emerelda said. “She doesn’t have to change anything about herself to please him.”

  Brystal was touched. “Thanks, Em,” she said.

  “You’re welcome,” Emerelda said. “But before you go, and I say this with love, you definitely need to take a bath and do something with that hair. When’s the last time you brushed it?”

  The following morning at eleven o’clock, after bathing and thoroughly brushing her hair, Brystal departed the Fairy Territory for the Southern Kingdom. She drifted through the sky in a large bubble and landed on the front steps of Champion Castle at five minutes to noon. Brystal had tried to be discreet as she descended through the Chariot Hills town square, but as soon as the citizens noticed her bubble, they charged toward the castle. Brystal hurried up the steps to the entrance but a soldier stopped her before she could get inside.

  “Name?” the soldier asked.

  “Seriously?” Brystal asked.

  The approa
ching crowd was screaming her name at the top of their lungs, but the soldier didn’t seem to notice.

  “No one gets in the castle unless they’re on the list,” he said.

  “I’m the Fairy Godmother,” she said. “I’m here to see Prince Gallivant.”

  The soldier checked his scroll. “Sorry, but I don’t see your name,” the soldier said.

  “What about Brystal Evergreen?”

  “No, that’s not here either.”

  “There must be some sort of mistake. The prince invited me here personally.”

  “Sorry. No name, no entry.”

  Brystal nervously glanced over her shoulder at the crowd behind her and didn’t know what to do. What other name could Seven have given him?

  “What about the Fairy Godsmacker?” she asked.

  “Welcome, Ms. Godsmacker, please come inside.”

  The soldier stepped out of Brystal’s way, and she dashed into Champion Castle just as the excited citizens reached the front steps.

  The entrance hall was decorated with red carpets and crystal chandeliers, the walls were covered in portraits of royalty from the past and present, and the hall was lined with soldiers in silver armor. Brystal found Seven waiting for her just beyond the front door. He was grinning from ear to ear, trying his best not to laugh.

  “Trouble getting in?” he asked innocently.

  “That wasn’t funny,” Brystal said.

  “Then why are you smiling?”

  “Okay, it was a little funny,” she admitted. “You’re lucky I’m not a vengeful person. I could easily turn you into a pig for that.”

  “But an adorable pig, I’m sure,” he said with a wink.

  Seven offered Brystal his arm and escorted her down the hall.

  “I’m so glad you could join me,” he said. “Have you been to the castle before?”

  “A few times, but always for official business with your grandfather.”

  “Great, then I’ll give you the social tour,” he said. “As you can see by all the painted faces surrounding us, this is the Royal Portrait Gallery. Every member of the Champion dynasty gets an official portrait on their eighteenth birthday, on their wedding day, and on their coronation day if they’re in line for the throne. And as you can tell by all the stoic expressions, the Champions don’t like to smile.”

  Brystal was in awe of how many portraits there were.

  “Your family is huge,” she said. “Holiday shopping must be a nightmare.”

  “I have a lot of relatives but I wouldn’t say I have a big family,” he said. “The Champions are in constant competition with each other and they treat the line of succession like a food chain. They may exchange pleasantries here and there, but deep down, everyone secretly hopes someone will fall down a flight of stairs and move them closer to the crown.”

  “And I thought my family had issues,” Brystal said. “If it’s helpful, I don’t think it matters what group you’re born into. Sometimes family are the people we choose to be around. I learned that when I moved to the academy.”

  Seven smiled at the notion. “I think I’m making good choices so far,” he said.

  The remark filled Brystal’s stomach with butterflies, and her face flushed. As they walked down the gallery, Seven stopped to show Brystal the portrait of a teenage boy. He wore a crown that was too big for his head and a fur cape that barely fit him, and his eyes were wide with angst.

  “This is my grandfather’s coronation portrait,” Seven said.

  “He was so young,” Brystal said. “Look how terrified he is.”

  “He was only sixteen when he became king. Can you imagine having that kind of responsibility at such a young age?”

  Brystal laughed. “As a matter of fact, I can.”

  Seven cringed like he had accidentally offended her.

  “Sorry, I keep forgetting who I’m with,” he said. “I think that’s what I like the most about you, Brystal. You’re essentially the most powerful person in the world, and yet you don’t carry yourself that way. Lesser people would let it go straight to their head, but you’re surprisingly normal. I hope it’s all right for me to say that.”

  “Don’t apologize; it’s refreshing to hear,” she said. “I think that’s what I like the most about you, Seven—you make me feel normal.”

  They continued down the gallery and passed the wedding portrait of a young couple.

  “These are my parents on their wedding day,” Seven said. “May they rest in peace.”

  “How did they die?”

  Seven looked to the floor and sighed with a heavy heart.

  “When I was three, we were traveling to the countryside when our carriage was attacked by an angry mob,” he said. “I don’t remember much besides all the screaming. My parents shielded me, otherwise I wouldn’t have survived. They died trying to protect me, though. Maybe that’s why I threw myself in front of the arrow at your brother’s wedding—maybe protecting people just runs in my blood.”

  “I’m so sorry—I had no idea,” Brystal said. “Is that how you got the scar on your face?”

  The prince nodded. “It’s a constant reminder,” he said. “It could have been so much worse, though. Thankfully my grandfather took me under his wing and raised me like a son. Honestly, I don’t know what I would have done without my grandpa Champs.”

  “Still, I imagine it was lonely growing up without your parents,” Brystal said.

  “I came up with different ways to keep myself entertained,” he said. “Have you ever played the game And Now We Run?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, it’s simple.”

  Seven suddenly snatched the helmet off the soldier beside them.

  “And now we run!” he exclaimed.

  Before she understood what was happening, Seven had pulled Brystal down the hall, and the soldier chased after them. They charged down corridors, sprinted through sitting rooms, and bolted across ballrooms—dodging servants, leaping over furniture, and narrowly knocking over statues along the way. Brystal didn’t understand the point of the game, and she felt sorry for the soldier running after them, but she couldn’t deny how much fun she was having. She and Seven laughed the entire time and their adrenaline rose more and more as the soldier got closer and closer. They eventually became too tired to run any farther and they collapsed on lounge chairs in a drawing room. Seven surrendered the helmet, and the soldier returned to his post, swearing under his breath as he left.

  “Those poor soldiers must hate you!” Brystal giggled.

  “Without a doubt! But that game never gets old!” Seven laughed.

  “I have to admit, I haven’t had that much fun in months!”

  “In that case, should we celebrate with some tea?”

  The prince escorted her into a beautiful royal garden where a table had been set for two. While they enjoyed their tea, Brystal and Seven talked about every subject under the sun. They discussed politics and philosophy, history and the future, family and friendships, and of course, their love for the Tales of Tidbit Twitch series. Their tea turned into lunch, the lunch turned into dinner, and before they knew it, Brystal and Seven were being served a midnight snack.

  Brystal was so grateful her friends had persuaded her to go. For reasons she couldn’t explain, being near Seven made all her despair fade away. She wasn’t plagued with fear or negative thoughts—on the contrary, she felt protected and happy in his presence. The world didn’t seem as overwhelming or as difficult as it had before.

  “I think we have an audience,” Seven said.

  He pointed to a window above the garden, and Brystal saw Prince Maximus glaring down at them. She couldn’t tell how long the prince had been watching them but Maximus was clearly furious to see his nephew and his enemy getting along so well. Once he was spotted, Prince Maximus angrily shut the drapes and retreated from sight.

  “I’ll take that as my cue to leave,” Brystal said. “I can’t thank you enough for inviting me. Yesterday, I was convinced t
his was the worst week of my life, but now, I think it might be one of the best.”

  “I can relate,” Seven said. “I’ve been feeling so negative lately—like my mind has been stuck in a rut I can’t get out of—but being with you makes everything seem so much brighter. Does that make any sense or do I sound crazy?”

  Brystal couldn’t believe her ears—it was like Seven was reading her mind.

  “I know exactly what you mean,” she said.

  In that moment, Brystal knew she and Seven had developed something much more than a friendship. It was unlike anything Brystal had experienced before, and she couldn’t put her feelings into words, but she suddenly understood why poets and songwriters talked about love so much.

  The prince escorted Brystal to the front steps of the castle. It was so late, Brystal and Seven had the whole town square to themselves.

  “It’s a beautiful night,” Brystal said.

  “It is,” Seven said. “Oh, and look—there’s a blood moon tonight! They say those are supposed to bring luck.”

  “I think it already has,” Brystal said with a smirk. “Well, I should say good night.”

  “Me too,” Seven said.

  The two stood for a few moments in awkward silence. Clearly, they both wanted the same thing to happen, but each was too afraid to initiate it. Slowly but surely, Brystal and Seven leaned toward each other. Brystal’s mind went blank and her heart began to race as Seven’s lips moved closer and closer to hers.

  Unfortunately, they were interrupted by something moving in the distance. They turned toward the motion and spotted a man in a silver robe. The man crossed a corner of the town square, walking so softly his boots didn’t make a sound against the cobblestones. Brystal and Seven hid behind a lamppost before the man noticed them. After a closer look, they saw that an image of a white wolf was stitched to the chest of the man’s robe and that a silver mask was draped over his face.

  “It’s a member of the Righteous Brotherhood!” Brystal whispered.

  “The what?” Seven asked.