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At the edge of my vision, I catch Vanya rolling her eyes but I say nothing. I smile at William and his young optimism.

“Thank you.”

“I am curious, though, Miss Shivani.” We turn to look at Vanya as she mops up the last of her gravy. “What foodcanyou cook?”

I laugh and eye her mischievously.

“Would you like me to show you?” I ask.

She seems taken aback for a moment, her lips parting before giving me a small smile.

“Absolutely.”

I search the vast cupboards for any familiar ingredients and settle on a few spices as well as a bag of lentils. Vanya watches me curiously as I work, keen-eyed. I can see her absorbing everything. She stands next to me at the counter with her own set of identical ingredients and copies my movements.

“There is a tale my Aunt used to tell me when we would cook together,” I say, grinding the lentils using a smooth rock. “It is said that witches used to brew potions with magical properties.”

Vanya nods eagerly.

“I have heard this,” she says. “Potions with strange ingredients.”

I smile coyly and wag a finger.

“Ah! But it is only a rumour,” I correct her and begin chopping garlic into small chunks. Vanya follows me closely, although her eyebrows raise at this new information.

“It is not true?”

“A complete falsehood,” I confirm. “It is sirens who are able to create liquid magic. Brewed and stewed in large pots before they carefully ladle it into glass bottles.”

Vanya chops her garlic expertly, her knife gliding through the root. Her eyes are on thechopping board, but her face is turned slightly towards me, enraptured.

“One day, a witch came across one of these glass bottles. It was half-buried in the sand at an isolated beach with no footprints. When she picked it up, she saw it was empty. But there was something…distinct about it. A ringing in her ears, soft and sweet. And then she heard a voice from the sea.”

Vanya stops chopping to listen.

“It calls out to her. A greeting, the witch thinks, but she cannot quite hear. Slowly…curiously…she walks over to the water. There, amongst the gentle waves of the sea, a head bobs above the surface. Almost like a human, but not quite. Green-skinned and scaly. The witch is at the edge of the land, and the water is lapping at her ankles. She holds the empty bottle in her hand, and she can still hear the ringing in her ears. So beautiful. So tempting. The person in the water smiles at her and says—”

“Miss Shivani!”

We are broken from our conversation by Inez rushing into the kitchen. Vanya jumps out of her skin and nearly drops her knife.

“Inez!” I put a hand to my thumping heart.

“My apologies.” She gives a hurried curtsy. “The guards are due their kitchen inspection. You will need to return to your chambers immediately. The more of them we lie to, the more likely they are to inform the king.”

My mouth dries at the mention of the king. I nod numbly.

“You are right,” I say. I incline my head to Vanya, who has straightened back to her usual self. “I will send Inez a note with the recipe. I hope to see you again soon.”

“As do I, Miss Shivani,” she replies, but there is a grave set to her mouth, which makes me feel as though she does not believe she will.

Chapter 9

Month Two

Morraine echoes in my mind relentlessly. She had worked at the public house two years ago, serving patrons. We often crossed paths late at night. Me, on my way home from studying and her, leaving a long shift. We exchanged nothing for than polite nods and an occasional ‘goodnight.’ We were not friends, nor even acquaintances, but I knew her still. I recognised her laugh when it rang through the open windows. I can picture her weary smile at the end of the night.

Morraine’s father had passed nearly ten years ago, leaving her with an elderly mother and two younger siblings. More hungry mouths than her wage could feed. She may break the curse, or she may not—her family would be cared for either way.