"Look at you, my dear niece," Leonora teases me with a smile before we head towards the door. "You're already behaving like a Queen."
Her approval warms me; it feels nice to have her support. But then she adds, "Oh, I almost forgot." She strides over to a wooden cabinet and opens one of the drawers. Her fingers deftly slip into a slot, lifting up a board and revealing a secret compartment. My eyes widen in astonishment as she pulls out a large, long, flat box wrapped in pink silk.
"Palaces of the Queens of Witchwood are full of secrets," Aunt Leonora says, handing me the box. "And this is one of the good ones. Open it. It's your birthday present."
Excited, I trace my fingers over the carving of the Spring Court coat of arms on the box – the two cats and the cherry tree. Lifting the lid, I find an old leather-bound book, small but bulky, also bearing the coat of arms of the Spring Court. There's a beautiful green quill with golden cherry blossom-shaped decorations, and an even smaller wooden box nestled next to it.
"What is this?" I ask, turning the book over in my hands. I feel like it's something important, but I have no idea why. Opening the leather book, I realise that the last few pages are blank. The remaining pages contain handwritten notes and sketches of peculiar beings, combining characteristics of both animals and plants. Some of the pages have names, like Ailish Wildcherry, Enyd Wildcherry… The names of Galatea, Diana, and Leonora also appear.
"Promise me you won't show this to anyone," Aunt Leonora says solemnly. "Only you can see its contents, Eileen. This book has belonged to all the Spring Queens and their daughters, and no one else should have access to it."
"Are these creatures Wisps?" I ask, intrigued by the drawings that remind me of creatures I've seen in Wispwood.
"Yes, that's right," she replies, a hint of pride in her voice. "The Wisps you'll find in this compendium cannot be found in any official Wisp compilation."
As I flip through the pages, I can hardly contain my excitement at the thought of discovering new Wisps, ones that only the Spring Queens know about.
"Can I ask why the Wisps in this book are a secret?" I inquire, my fingers tracing the intricate illustrations in the leather-bound tome.
"Well," Leonora begins, her expression softening, "there are certain powerful Wisps who only have dealings with the Spring Queens. It's a tradition that all of a Queen's descendants make a deal with the same Wisp." Her voice is hushed, as if sharing a sacred truth.
"Indeed," Nyx adds, joining us now. With a puff of black smoke, he transforms again into the elegant young man he appeared as before. "It's the same for the Queens of the other Courts. Each has their secret Wisps passed down through generations."
"Wow, I had no idea," I murmur, marvelling at the mysterious world unfolding before me. "Thank you for trusting me with this."
"You can take a closer look at it later," Leonora says gently, drawing my attention away from the book. "Now, look in the box!"
I carefully set the book aside and pick up the small wooden box. As I open it, I'm greeted by a beautiful gold brooch in the shape of a crescent moon, adorned with branches, leaves, and pink diamonds twinkling like stars. My breath catches in my throat as I take in the stunning piece.
"It's... beautiful," I whisper, unable to tear my eyes away from the brooch.
"It was your grandmother's," Leonora tells me, taking the brooch and expertly pinning it to my dress. "Now it belongs to you."
"Are you sure I can keep it?" I can't help but question, the weight of the brooch against my chest. "Wouldn't you prefer to have it?"
"Of course you can keep it, Eileen," she replies with a reassuring smile. "It's part of your heritage, and it's only right that you have it. I want you to have it."
"Thank you," I say, my voice filled with gratitude. The brooch is a symbol of the family I'm just beginning to know, and it warms my heart. Even if my mother was a murderer, Leonora is incredible and it seems my grandmother was well loved among her people.
"Come on," Leonora encourages me, her eyes twinkling, "let's go back to the party."
I nod, exhilaration and fear fluttering in my chest as we make our way back to the celebrations.
Upon returning to the banquet room, I take in the new arrangement of chairs encircling the stage, with tables pushed to the sides. Witches are engaged in lively chatter as they wait for the performance to begin. I notice there's no sign of Freya, and I can't help but feel a little relieved.
Some witches steal glances in my direction, but none of them dare to speak to me. I suppose they wouldn't while I'm accompanied by Aunt Leonora.
"I have to take care of a couple of things, but save me a seat, okay?" Leonora tells me, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "You can sit with Muriel there, in the front row."
"Alright," I nod, watching as she disappears backstage along with Nyx.
I indeed spot Muriel sitting in the front row, craning her neck like a meerkat to survey the room. Beside her, her crow familiar in human form leans against the chair, his interest waning. There's an empty seat to her right, waiting for me. I feel slightly self-conscious after my public humiliation by Freya, hoping that Muriel doesn't bring it up. With a deep breath, I muster my courage and stride confidently towards the front row.
Before I can reach Muriel, a flash of red hair catches my eye, and suddenly, Ophelia, the beautiful singer with emerald green eyes, intercepts me. She gently lays a hand on my arm, her smile warm and inviting.
"Thank you," she whispers. "For what you did."
I blink at her, surprised. "What do you mean?"
"For defending my sister, Calandra," she explains, her voice soft but earnest. "Not everyone would dare to face a Queen to defend a stranger. Especially if that queen is Freya."
It dawns on me then: Ophelia and the strong woman from before are sisters? The thought puzzles me, for they don't look much alike. But as I study her features more closely, I notice they share the same captivating green eyes - just like that other witch I met at the Autumn Court. What was her name again?
"Ah, well," I mumble, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "It was nothing."
"On behalf of the Aspens, we are very grateful," Ophelia says sincerely. "Calandra wanted me to thank you on her behalf as well."
"Really, there's no need to thank me," I reply, shrugging it off, though secretly, it feels nice to be acknowledged. "Anyone would have done the same."
"Allow me to walk you to your seat," Ophelia offers, her smile charming and genuine.
"Of course," I nod, allowing Ophelia to guide me towards the front row seats, her hand gently resting on my arm. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Astrid and Nicole sitting across the room. As soon as Astrid becomes aware of my presence, she begins to wave frantically, shouting, "Eileen, Eileen! Sit here!" while gesturing towards the chair near them. Nicole, on the other hand, rolls her eyes and tells Astrid to shut up. For once, I agree with her.
I decide to pretend I haven't seen them and ignore their antics. As we continue walking, Ophelia starts talking to me, her voice soft and sincere. "You know, my sisters and I grew up outside of Witchwood too. That's one of the reasons Calandra, Gredel, and I are so close."
"Ah, Gredel!" I suddenly remember the skinny, hunched witch Joanna the Autumn Queen had introduced me to, the one with a massive rat as a familiar. She had the same eyes as Ophelia. It all clicks into place now.
"I know it can be tough out there…" Ophelia says, pausing for a moment to look at me. I smile at her sympathetically, touched by the sadness and nostalgia in her expression. "Luckily, our grandmother Cornelia rescued us and brought us to Witchwood."
I think back to the slightly unnerving old woman in the wheelchair I'd met when I first walked in and heard Ophelia sing. "Didn't that lady say that Ophelia was her daughter...?" I wonder to myself. But then Nyx told me to pay her no mind because she had dementia.
Ophelia seems to sense my confusion but focuses instead on offering support. "I'm just saying if you ever need to talk… I didn't know anything about Witchwood either before I came to live here. I understand what you're going through."
"Thank you," I reply as I nod my head in gratitude, genuinely appreciating Ophelia's kindness. She seems like a lovely person, and it's comforting to know I'm not the only one who has struggled to adjust to this new reality. As we continue walking, we finally reach Muriel, who barely spares us a glance.
"You're late," she snaps at Ophelia, her tone icy.
"Sorry, Muriel," Ophelia apologises profusely, but Muriel simply ignores her and keeps scanning the room. She's being incredibly rude again.
Ophelia gracefully takes a seat next to Muriel and her long, elegant fingers pat the space next to her, inviting me to join.
"Get up, Ophelia!" Muriel's voice cuts through the air like a knife. "Eileen, take her place next to me," she barks.
The tension between them is palpable and it's obvious that Muriel wants nothing to do with Ophelia. Why is she being such a prick? I'm about to speak, but Ophelia's expression tells me to follow along. So, I comply without saying a word while Ophelia takes a seat in the row behind us.
Once I'm seated, Muriel turns to me with a smug expression but doesn't say a word. This girl is so weird.
"Excited for the play?" I ask, trying to make small talk.
"Absolutely," Muriel smirks. "It'll be quite educational for someone like you."
"Someone like me?" I raise an eyebrow.
"Someone who knows nothing about Witchwood," she says pointedly. "But don't worry, I'm sure you'll catch on eventually."
"Thanks," I retort. Is she insulting me or trying to be nice?
"Obviously, I've taken some liberties since I can't represent the foundation of Witchwood exactly as described in the bibliography, but I tried my best," she continues.
"Right," I reply, slightly confused by her sudden shift in tone, intellectual all of a sudden.
"The most important aspect of the play is that it demystifies that absurd idea that Ciara Yew was... You know," she mutters.
"Know what?" I ask, genuinely puzzled.
Muriel scoffs. "That Ciara Yew, the founder of the Winter Court, was the first blood witch. It's utter nonsense, just a legend. Now, shhh! It's about to start!"
All whispers in the room cease quite abruptly. Leonora takes the stage, and the audience collectively gasps at the sight of her. Trees, grass, and flowers grow around her in a mesmerising display, her eyes turning a brilliant white and her hair moving with an invisible wind. The ground beneath us trembles, and the atmosphere is charged with anticipation.