Page 56 of King Foretold (Realm of Four Kingdoms #2)

The mother dragged the child to the corner of the villager’s courtyard. The villager eyed them warily, holding her own crying daughter against her.

“Give them to me,” the mother said in a low, icy voice.

The child started, never having seen the mother so angry before. Even so, she tightened her hand around the five smooth stones and hid her fist behind her back. “Mine.”

“No, not yours.” The mother snatched the child’s wrist from behind her with frightening speed and strength. She turned her small fist, palm side up, and shook it sharply. “You stole the gonggi from your friend.”

“Mihwa did not steal,” the child wailed in outrage. “Yeongja gave them to me. It’s mine.”

The mother closed her eyes and breathed deeply through her nose. She gentled her grip on the child’s wrist but did not let go. “You made her give them to you against her will.”

The child scrunched up her face. “No!”

“Did you put magic in your voice?” The mother blinked away sudden tears. “When you asked your friend for the gonggi, did your words feel thick and sweet like warm honey in your mouth?”

“Mihwa didn’t ask for the gonggi.” She stomped her foot on the dirt ground. “Yeongja gave them to me.”

With a gasp, the mother dropped the child’s wrist to hide her shaking hands in her hanbok chima. To bewitch without words was a power a child this young shouldn’t be able to wield.

“D ... did you wish you could have it?” she asked her daughter.

“I wished I had one just like Yeongja’s. Her stones are smooth and round. All five of them the same size.” The child held her thumb up. “As small as Mihwa’s thumb. They make the perfect gonggi.”

“Wh ... when you wished for one ... just like hers,” the mother stuttered, “did your chest feel hot like you swallowed a mouthful of steaming tea?”

“I don’t remember.” The child pressed her free hand against the center of her chest, her brows crinkled in thought. “Maybe. I ... I think so.”

It wasn’t her fault. The child did not mean to bewitch her friend. It was the mother’s fault for not teaching her about the darkness inside her. But the child was only four years old. Her small hand could barely wrap around the five little stones.

“I will find five perfect stones for you,” the mother said gently.

“Round and smooth?” The child bounced up and down, her beautiful smile overshadowing the midday sun. “As small as Mihwa’s thumb?”

“Yes.” The mother turned the child by her shoulders and gave her bottom a pat. “Now be good and return the gonggi to Yeongja.”

The mother watched the child return the gonggi to her friend, and the two girls hugged.

This time, the child had caused little harm.

But tonight, the mother must teach the child that she was capable of causing great harm.

Because there was no violation deeper than rendering someone powerless—powerless to think, to want, to choose.

There was no magic more depraved than bewitching someone and robbing them of their free will.

The child must never ruin herself. She must never repeat the mother’s mistakes.