Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 48193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 241(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 241(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
But I do not. The war brews on and I stay in my quiet place, helping where I can and living my life without causing harm and without being harmed.
With the memories racing in the back of my mind, I stare down at the invitation.
As it stands, I cannot take the risk. The invitation falls to the old wooden desk, my worktable that houses oils and crystals and salts that work in both spell jars and recipes, as I softly sigh.
I prepare the potato for dinner and spread out the other letters on a clean section of the worktable. This is how I make a living—by casting spells for others. They write their requests to me on parchment, and I send them back a spell or recipe for a tincture. With the money they pay me, I buy rare goods and delectables to live my version of luxury. It is a pleasure to coax spells from the earth and provide for others less fortunate.
It is a quiet life, but it is a life, and it is mine.
The invitation seems to stare at me from its place on the worktable, daring me to open it.
It does not matter what the letter inside says. I will not go. Even if it will be safe, which cannot be guaranteed, I do not know how I would bear being among all those people without my coven.
I write out two spells in response to the letters I received, then check them over. A love spell, my most popular request, and a protection spell, which is the strongest spell I can cast. I will take them to the letter box tomorrow with the others I worked on this morning, each folded in my signature pattern so that the recipients will recognize it. A wax seal and a hint of honey in the paper adds a special touch. They like it when I do this. More than one person has told me so, and that brings me a bit of satisfaction as well.
Happiness can be found in such small things, I have learned. And I am grateful for every small bit of it.
When the sun has finally set, I throw open the windows of the cottage, breathe in the fragrant night air, and search the dark sky for the moon.
Stars twinkle overhead. The trees in the distance sway in the gentle night wind. This is the most beautiful night I have seen in months. The warmth in the meadow has finally reached the point where it does not fade away overnight. I can smell new flowers and the earth around me awakening.
I try to tell myself that spring is still my favorite time of year, as it used to be in what feels like a different lifetime. That I can still feel the possibility in the warm breeze and hope, that’s what spring brings most of— hope. But most nights, I do not feel such things. I feel my life stretching out before me, so quiet and so long. I hope to live a long time. I hope to carry the memory of my coven with me for as long as I can.
But the thought of all those years can be so lonely when the thing I see most—and seek most—is the many faces of the moon.
I am a moon witch, after all. I follow the moon that does not wish to chase. The largest moon. There are thirteen moons and two suns in our sky. The moons chase the mother sun and daughter sun in the sky, trying to get the daughter sun to win her favor.
My dedication to Dytnus, the eleventh moon and the witch’s moon, is the source of my power.
With the moon shining down tonight in a sliver of a crescent, I light several candles around the cottage, black wax and white, and at last pick up the invitation from my worktable. I held it before, but the fine parchment is still a surprise the second time. The elegant envelope opens to reveal a letter written on the same fine parchment.
I was right. It is an invitation. The wedding of Prince Adom and Princess Charlotte will be held in two months’ time. That is quite close, as far as these things go. Eight weeks. It will be here in the blink of an eye.
I read the words over twice more, a painful longing in my heart. It is a great honor to receive any letters from Prince Adom and his royal household. It is an even greater honor to be invited to his wedding to Princess Charlotte.
But I will not attend as I’ve already decided. Swallowing thickly, I choose not to acknowledge the longing that looms in my chest. I will send my regrets along with my other letters. I will not watch the prince and princess look deeply into each other’s eyes and promise a lifetime of love and honor.