In a blink I flew up the wooden stairs to the only room under the roof and started cramming things into a battered bag.
Run again. I'd only just made peace with the new role—an orphan again. I thought life was finally settling. But the past refuses to let me go. Tiny paws pattered after me across the boards.
"Pff—!" He blew his long forelock off his eyes and spoke. "Where exactly do you plan to run, witch? You think other towns don't have Inquisitors as powerful as this one?" Lil rose up on his hind legs.
"I don't know. I just know I need to stay far away from this one." My voice thinned toward a cry. If Theo remembered me—who knew what would happen.
My former idol—ten years older—had become a walking nightmare. Back then I was Lady Ariela Bogart, daughter of wealthy, respected envoys.Now I'm simply Ria, daughter of old Matilda—a real witch.
"Fight, witch! Stop running!" the fluffball declared, chin up like a tiny general.
"My name is Ria, not witch," I said, halting my frantic march and dropping onto the narrow bed. "If the Inquisitor recognizes his former acquaintance, he'll cut me into straps." I rubbed my burning cheeks with my palms.
"Plenty left for gloves," he added sweetly.
I eyed the living inheritance with fresh curiosity. Truth was, I hadn't really met him yet. Lil appeared at dawn and announced my power had summoned him. From today, he was my familiar.
I still had no idea what that meant, but I'd already grown fond of the brave coward in this ginger body.
The front door creaked below, and a girlish voice called up:"Ria, he's gone. Give me the potion!"
I jolted upright.
With everything that had happened, I'd forgotten I had several young women scheduled today. Their mothers had cried and begged me to brew love potions, just as old Matilda used to, until I caved. I'd been working strictly from the nurse's book, though I never once saw her dabble in love philters. I only hoped the girls wouldn't notice—because I neither can brew nor plan to brew love.
I was afraid to make a mess of things… but more afraid to anger the local gossips. This town is my last refuge. If they drive me out, I'm homeless. Fine, I breathed, I'll run at night. For now—work. I'll need the coin.
After I accepted the power, the townsfolk wasted no time. I barely squeaked before I found myself in the kitchen, brewing little cures for little troubles.
I didn't know how to refuse them. They'd helped with my nurse's funeral and fed me like a child in those first days—spoon by spoon. I was sure I wouldn't survive. First I buried my parents at fifteen, and five years later I fled, in a rain-soaked night, from a ducal decree to marry an old sadist. That's how my nurse and I ended up in Micheli, living quietly in a small house on the edge of town.
We kept to ourselves and spoke to the locals rarely. But my nurse's heart couldn't endure a month on the road. A year of quiet in Micheli later, I was alone again. Unwanted by anyone.
Or so I believed—until one night a red cloud slammed into my chest. I burned and gasped till dawn, begging for mercy or death. The torment ended with the sunrise, and I woke… different. Strong.
Now I brew potions by letting streams of power run through me, pouring them into small doses of remedy. From that day I could see those currents—threads flowing between living things and down into the earth like liquid ropes. At first I thought I'd gone mad. But in my nurse's closet I found notebooks packed with writing—so much my head spun.
It's been over a week of custom orders now, all by the recipes in those old notebooks. People started asking on their own—something for coughs, something for aching bones.
"I saw you in the square today," my client began, already in gossip mode. "Why did you run? Afraid of the new mayor?" She tucked a vial of red liquid into her wide skirt and bounced on her toes with impatience.
Silvia—the local gossip. If she knows, the world soon does.
I nodded. I wasn't about to tell her I'd locked eyes with Theo—who'd been proclaiming "changes" from the stage—and nearly shattered to dust from fear. I hiccuped with it.
My soul still ached from the promise he broke. He left. He betrayed me. Found a new fiancée and tossed me aside like a useless thing. He wouldn't even listen when, before my escape, I begged my childhood friend for protection. I'd hoped never to see him again.
Today in the square it seemed he didn't recognize me. I slipped away fast and hid at home, praying for the best. Theo visited later and demanded his heart back. Clearly, too much power has rattled his brains. And where's his curly-haired fiancée? She never used to leave his side and acted like she owned him, not like a bride-to-be.
So I wished him one love only—the one buried deep in his soul—and utter indifference to everyone else. I signed that wish with an ocean of pain and a sea of disappointment. It was long ago, but it must have taken effect the moment my nurse's gift passed to me. A wicked little smile bloomed on my lips; I didn't even try to hide the satisfaction of knowing Theo finally got what he deserved. But what does he want from me now?
"Come on, I get it," Silvia patted my shoulder with her plump little hand. "I saw you blush and then go pale. I nearly swallowed my tongue—what a beauty. Good thing our old mayor decided to retire,"—she meant the former one—"Now we've got a handsome, unattached mayor. The hunt is about to begin, mark my words. And by the Goddess, I'll be first!"
She laughed, bright and ringing, and swept out of my house.
And I sat there thinking how to keep the new mayor busy—and keep my little home.