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The garden courtyard was crowded with curious nobles by the time Beth arrived with Baldwin and Eleanor.

Roland had gone on an errand for Baldwin and said he would meet them later.

At the center of the chilly courtyard stood an ornate fountain with water flowing from the mouths of carved stone fish into a wide basin.

Her heart sank. She’d spent the time during the meal trying to think of a safe demonstration, something that would satisfy curiosity without revealing too much. She’d settled on a simple copper sulfate solution that would produce bright blue flames. Impressive but controllable.

But now, with dozens of eyes upon her and the king himself watching expectantly from his cushioned seat, her hands trembled. She set her small leather pouch of chemicals on the fountain’s edge and tried to steady her breathing.

“You needn’t do this,” Baldwin said quietly. He stood close behind her, his presence both comforting and intimidating in his formal attire. The sunlight caught in his dark hair, highlighting strands of copper and gold from the time he’d spent outdoors this summer.

“If I refuse, it will look suspicious,” Beth replied, keeping her voice low. “Better to control the narrative.”

His jaw tightened, but he stepped back, giving her space to work.

Beth removed small vials from her pouch, conscious of the hushed whispers around her. She’d prepared these mixtures at Glenhaven, never imagining she’d be using them as court entertainment. Carefully, she poured the copper sulfate solution into a small metal dish.

“What I am about to show you,” she announced, raising her voice to address the crowd, “is merely a property of certain substances when combined. There is no magic here, only natural philosophy.”

King Edward leaned forward, his eyes bright with interest. “Proceed, Mistress Beth.”

Beth added the catalyst to her mixture, but as she did, she realized her error. In her nervousness, she’d grabbed the wrong vial. Not the mild reactant she’d intended, but a more volatile compound she’d been experimenting with at Glenhaven.

She opened her mouth to warn everyone, but it was too late.

The solution bubbled violently, then erupted in a spectacular blue-green flame that shot upward with unexpected force.

The heat singed her eyebrows, and she stumbled backward and would have fallen if Baldwin hadn’t been there to steady her against his chest. “Bloody hell, woman.”

The flame caught the decorative oil that floated in the fountain’s basin, spreading across the water’s surface in a dancing ring of fire. For one breathtaking moment, it was beautiful, blue-green flames atop water, defying nature itself.

Then someone screamed. The courtiers scattered, ladies lifting their skirts to flee, men shoving each other aside. Beth stood frozen, horrified at the chaos she’d created.

Baldwin pulled her away from the flame. His face was a mask of alarm, eyes reflecting the unnatural fire. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, unable to speak. The flames were already dying down, having consumed the oil, but the damage was done. She’d turned a simple demonstration into a spectacle of terror.

To her astonishment, King Edward’s laughter boomed across the courtyard. He stood, applauding with genuine delight as the queen smiled.

“Marvelous!” he exclaimed. “Absolutely marvelous! Come. You must tell us how you learned such wonders.”

Before she could move, another voice cut through the chaos.

“This is sorcery!” Cedric bellowed, pointing an accusing finger. “She endangers Your Grace’s life with fire and sky-tricks! This woman is no natural philosopher. She is a witch!”

Murmurs rippled through the remaining courtiers. Some crossed themselves as others nodded in agreement. Beth felt her blood run cold.

Baldwin stepped in front of her. “Mind your tongue, Whitmore. The lady acts with the king’s permission.”

“This woman acts with powers no mortal should possess,” Cedric retorted, his face contorted with rage. “She endangers us all with her foreign knowledge!”

Jacquetta stepped forward, her presence silencing the whispers. “Enough,” she said, her voice carrying effortlessly across the courtyard. “Lord Cedric, you forget yourself.”

The king’s expression had hardened. “Indeed. I find your outburst tiresome, Whitmore. You are banished from court until you learn better manners.”

Cedric’s face paled, then flushed with humiliation. He bowed stiffly. “As Your Grace commands.” But as he straightened, his eyes found Beth’s, filled with such hatred that she physically recoiled.

“I will remember this,” he mouthed silently before turning on his heel and stalking away.

The king turned his attention back to Beth, his good humor apparently restored. “Now then, you must join us for supper and explain this fascinating demonstration. Baldwin, we should talk. ’Tis past time for your lovely sister to wed.”

Baldwin forced a smile, bowing deeply. “Your Grace honors us.”

As the crowd dispersed, following the king back toward the palace, Baldwin pulled Beth into an alcove, his expression thunderous. Eleanor tactfully moved ahead, giving them privacy.

“You promised discretion!” he hissed, his face inches from hers.

Beth’s own temper flared. “I didn’t promise to be silent while they accuse me of witchcraft!” she shot back. “What was I supposed to do? Refuse the king?”

“You were supposed to be cautious! Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Cedric was humiliated publicly. He’ll never forgive that. And now the king is fascinated by you.”

“Is that so terrible?” Beth demanded. “At least if the king likes me, I’m safer from accusations.”

Baldwin’s anger seemed to drain away, replaced by something more vulnerable.

He reached up, his fingers hovering near her face, but not quite touching.

“Do you know what they do to witches in London?” he asked softly.

“It isn’t the quick death of burning. It’s slow.

Methodical. They break the body piece by piece, seeking confession. ”

His fingers finally made contact, brushing a smudge of soot from her cheek. The touch was gentle, at odds with the intensity in his eyes.

“I cannot bear the thought of—” he began, then stopped himself.

Beth’s breath caught. For a moment, something shifted between them, the air charged with unspoken words.

“Baldwin!” Eleanor’s voice shattered the moment. “The king is asking for you both!”

He stepped back, his hand dropping to his side. “We’ll continue this discussion later,” he said, his voice once again controlled, distant. “For now, say nothing more of your knowledge. Nothing.”

Later, alone in her chamber, Beth stared at her reflection in the polished metal mirror. Her face was smudged with soot, her carefully arranged hair singed at the edges. She looked exactly like what she was, a woman out of her depth, playing with forces she couldn’t fully control.

“I didn’t mean to,” she whispered softly, her voice shaky. “I never mean to.”

Intentions mattered little here, she was learning. Only consequences, and today’s disaster was already spreading outward, rippling like flames upon water.

A quiet knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. Beth turned slowly as Eleanor slipped into the room, her expression hesitant.

“Are you well? I saw what happened?—”

Beth gave a tight nod, forcing a wan smile as Eleanor approached. “I’ll survive. Hopefully, Glenhaven will, too.”

Eleanor sighed softly, gathering her skirts as she settled on the edge of Beth’s bed. “The king speaks again of arranging a marriage for me.”

Beth crossed the room and joined her, sympathy flickering through her heart. “Did he say to whom?”

“Not yet, thank the Saints.” Eleanor stared down at her folded hands, her voice strained.

“I don’t want to be sent away from my home, away from everything I love.

I know it is my duty, but...” She swallowed hard, a flush rising in her cheeks.

“It’s not fair. I don’t wish to marry at all.

I’ve seen how so many husbands treat their wives as though, by marrying them, they own them. ”

She paused, then hurried on softly, “I know my brother isn’t like that, but too many are. The thought of belonging to someone in such a manner sickens me. I would stay at Glenhaven forever if I could.”

Beth reached out and gently covered Eleanor’s trembling hands with her own. “Perhaps there’s another way.”

“Impress the king. If he asks what you want... would you... would you ask that I can stay at Glenhaven?” Eleanor whispered shakily, squeezing Beth’s hand in return, before withdrawing with a long, steadier breath.

“Of course I will.”

“Thank you. I’m going to the stables. I’ll be back soon.” Eleanor rose, casting one last glance of quiet kinship toward Beth before slipping out the door, leaving Beth alone again beneath the weight of her own troubled thoughts.