Before Artemisia had any longer to think, however, Mrs Bowes spoke.
“I’ll begin now.” She touched her free hand to her conduit and
closed her eyes.
The jewel began to glow, and Artemisia realised it must be a similar
sort of stone as the type that powered the lamps used throughout the
manor. She had examined them when she had realised that the light
they gave out was not natural, and Elise had informed her that the
light source was a type of magical stone that glowed when struck
against each other, much like how a flint and steel produced sparks.
The glow would slowly dim over a few hours, but all you had to do was
strike them again and they would glow just as brightly.
The glow from Mrs Bowes’ pendant was similar, and even the stones
had been cut in a similar style, save this one was a dark red hue
compared to the pale yellows and blues of the lamp stones.
“Ack!” It felt like a pulse of static was spreading down
Artemisia’s arm, like the weirdest pins and needles. Mrs Bowes held
onto her hand tightly however, not letting her pull away.
After her beginning shock, the feeling subsided, although Artemisia
found the overall experience unpleasant. It really did put her in
mind of getting an X-ray or an MRI, and she fancied she could hear a
low buzzing.
After a minute or so, Mrs Bowes opened her eyes and let go of
Artemisia’s hand. Her brow was furrowed, and Artemisia gulped.
“How odd,” was the first thing she said.
“I don’t believe you’ve been cursed, thank the gods,” Mrs
Bowes continued. “But… may I speak honestly, my lady?”
“Go ahead.”
“There’s something… unusual about you. I’m not sure if it’s
magic, and I also doubt it’s anything that would affect you
negatively, however… I can’t find the words to describe it.”
“What do you mean?” Artemisia said, trying to keep her voice and
face as emotionless as possible.
“That is the thing,” Mrs Bowes touched her pendant and sighed.
“I’m not sure.”
“You’re… not sure?” Artemisia echoed, fidgeting with a ribbon
on her dress.
“I am terribly sorry, my lady, but I do not appear have the
learning or skills needed to understand your condition. I would
advise you to seek out a higher skilled witch than I, or even a
wizard.”
Artemisia wasn’t sure how to respond. What she supposed
to say?
Is this a good thing, or a bad thing? I should be glad that she is
unable to expose me as an interloper, but she’s still been able to
pick up on something different about me. And the fact it doesn’t
feel like a curse to her has made me an oddity, and therefore I will
stick in her mind! If she tells the duke, he’s going to do exactly
what she says and look for someone more skilled, which will just
extend this whole situation.
“Well, I suppose we should inform the duke.” Mrs Bowes made to
stand.
“Wait!” Panicked, Artemisia reached out and grabbed Mrs Bowes’
arm.
“Lady Artemisia!”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“I… will speak to my father.”
“Sorry, my lady?”
“I will speak to my father,” Artemisia repeated, stronger this
time. “There is no need for you to trouble yourself.”
Mrs Bowes opened her mouth as if to rebuke Artemisia, and then shut
it, looking conflicted. Seeing an opening, Artemisia ploughed
onwards.
Time to put on the noble lady act like my life depends on it! Act
haughty!
“This is my situation, and I would prefer to explain it to my
father in my own words.” Artemisia made a show of looking
concerned. “You’ve seen how he worries, surely? If you tell him,
he might panic. But, if it comes from me, I think – no, I know –
he will take it much better. Do you understand?”
Mrs Bowes looked truly confused now. “If that is what you wish,
then I will not defy you. However, if the duke asks me to tell him
the results of my examination, I cannot defy him either.”
“Don’t worry about that,” said Artemisia, sounding a lot more
confident than she felt.
The duke clearly cares for Artemisia a lot, despite his tendency
to act stony. Otherwise I doubt he would go to the trouble of calling
a witch here to see me, and he certainly wouldn’t be so concerned
about angering me either. I think I have a good chance of getting him
to do what I want.
Artemisia stood and crossed her arms, mimicking how she thought the
original Artemisia might have carried herself. “If that is sorted,
shall we finish this here?”
“Yes, my lady, of course.” Mrs Bowes rose too, her face turned
downwards.
She absolutely thinks I’m hiding something. But what choice do I
have?
“And… if after this, I hear that you have told my father
something… you will face the consequences!”
I sound about as intimidating as a hissing kitten. This is a
disaster!
?
Later, Artemisia would wonder how she’d gotten through that
encounter without having a panic attack.
The two of them left the parlour, where Hesperus was waiting
impatiently. “How went it?” he asked flatly.
Mrs Bowes opened her mouth, but Artemisia beat her too it. “It went
as well as you could expect it to, father. Come, I’ll tell you
about it in your study.”
She darted forwards and took Hesperus by the arm. He blinked a few
times, and as she tried to drag him away, it was like dragging a
boulder.
“Artemisia?”
“Come on, father. Let’s go. Have you paid Mrs Bowes yet?”
“I… no, not yet.”
“Get someone else to deal with it. I want to speak to you.”
Artemisia let herself appear a little annoyed, and her pout seemed to
shake the duke out of his shock.
“Yes, of course. Ross!”
One of his aides, who had been lingering a short distance away,
snapped to attention.
“Yes, Your Grace?”
“See that Mrs Bowes is paid properly for her services.”
“Certainly, Your Grace.”
Artemisia could feel Mrs Bowes’ gaze drilling into her back as she
escorted Hesperus away, but luckily, the witch didn’t say anything.
It wasn’t until they had re-entered Hesperus’ study that
Artemisia breathed a sigh of relief.
“What’s wrong, Arte?” Hesperus asked. “Did Mrs Bowes say
something to upset you?”
“Not exactly,” Artemisia began, switching to Noble Lady mode, as
she thought of it. “It was just an… experience I’d not care to
repeat. Mrs Bowes herself was fine, however.”
“If you did not enjoy it, I won’t make you do anything like it
again. However, I’m grateful you did not complain despite your
discomfort. Did she find anything amiss?”
“I’m not cursed.” That’s all you need to know. Don’t ask
me any more, please!
“I see.” Hesperus’ shoulders dropped. “That is good news.”
“Did you truly think I’d been cursed?” Artemisia spoke without
thinking.
Hesperus looked back at her with a conflicted expression. “It’s
an odd situation. The unexpected meteor storm, your collapse and
amnesia… but maybe I’m only a superstitious old man.” He
sighed, the lines in his face seeming more prevalent all of a sudden.
“Did you have anything else to ask of me?”
Artemisia hummed. She could have asked him any number of questions –
what exactly was this meteor storm, why was magic a thing of the
prior generation – but seeing the duke reduced from his usual
towering presence to a tired, almost frail figure caused her to
hesitate.
“No, I’ll be leaving now. See you at dinner, father.”
“Yes, yes.”
