Page 9 of Stolen Magic (All That Glitters #2)

The head servant suddenly leaned forward almost conspiratorially, as if inviting me to share in her confidence.

“I know it’s not my place, but I have deep reservations about this marriage.

The princess is such a kind, gentle soul.

To think she’s being sent off to a place such as Eldoria .

” She shuddered. “It’s plain her parents are none too pleased with it either; the queen hasn’t cried so much since Eldoria first attacked.

I reckon they didn’t have much of a choice, just as we didn’t have a choice but to give up all of our magic in the first place. ”

I doubted she would speak so out of turn under normal circumstances; she’d likely climbed the servants’ ranks through keeping such opinions to herself.

The air tingled with magic, revealing the presence of my spell acting as a puppeteer to momentarily take over her sense in order to provide me with the contextual information I needed to move forward; what I did with this intel remained in my power.

I smiled encouragingly for her to continue…

an invitation she unconsciously seized, unaware that the conversation had been magically orchestrated.

“Politics aren’t the place of a mere servant, the complexities of alliances and contracts far beyond my understanding.

Yet with our kingdom’s magic all but depleted and Eldoria’s growing forces, even I can see that such an arrangement is a matter of survival…

and yet I worry for the dear princess. The one thing that puzzles me is what Eldoria stands to gain from allying themselves with a kingdom they’ve already ravaged.

” She blinked in a daze, as if only just realizing how much she’d spoken out of turn.

“Forgive me, I’m not sure why I spoke of such things. ”

I saw my opening. “It’s understandable. As the head servant you’re unquestionably loyal to the royal family. Princess Gwendolyn’s circumstances are truly difficult, made all the more tragic considering she lost her original handmaiden so suddenly.”

As I hoped, my gentle prodding encouraged her to continue, allowing me to extract more of the information she normally kept tucked securely behind her guarded demeanor.

“Indeed. Her original handmaiden has served Her Highness for most of her life. It’s quite strange how someone who’s always been healthy could catch an unknown ailment so suddenly last night that no one knows what it is or how to treat it.

She has been sent home to recover, leaving the princess distraught on her behalf. ”

I was certainly to blame for this tragedy.

The conscience that even my harsh circumstances hadn’t fully killed prickled, but not enough to penetrate the heart that had become hardened past any feeling beyond my own selfish ends…

or at least that’s what I tried to convince myself.

In truth her fate bothered me, yet I had no choice but to continue forward, trusting that my spell wouldn’t harm the poor servant beyond her illness.

I reminded myself that my goal to restore my magic and bring judgment on Eldoria would be for the benefit of all Myrona, along with the other kingdoms Eldoria had plundered.

Perhaps when all of this was over and magic was once more fully at my disposal and I could afford the high price of my moral compass, I could visit this unintended victim of my schemes and mend this wrong…

but only after I’d acquired what I desperately needed.

Even with this empty reassurance, it took considerable effort to control my guilt towards the unfortunate servant girl, but the emotion wouldn't stop me from seizing the coveted opening her illness had created, no matter the cost.

I assuaged my discomfort by reminding myself of the guard’s attempt to dissuade me from the position.

Perhaps by causing the illness, I’d inadvertently saved the girl from a terrible fate in Eldoria.

I knew it was unlikely, but after being the victim of uncaring cruelty I didn’t want to do the same to others on my path to justice.

I hoped the head servant would elaborate further, but whatever force had encouraged her to talk seemed to have finally been expended.

She proceeded to determine whether my capabilities were suitable for the position for which I was applying.

I presented myself as a humble, hardworking girl from a distant village, leveraging my fabricated backstory to gain sympathy and avoid suspicion.

When she determined my personality was suitable, we did a rudimentary test of basic etiquette, sewing, and knowledge of herbs.

Although my magical abilities remained sealed, my extensive knowledge from my time with Mother as well as the years of survival on my own gave me more than ample experience to be sufficient.

My demonstration of the proper courtly manners came from a knowledge not my own, likely supplied by my cast spell, proving it was far more powerful than I’d anticipated, considering its extensive effects.

While my powers remained sealed, I managed to use traces to subtly enhance my performance, carefully channeling just enough to secure my position but not enough to trigger the seal’s painful backlash.

When the test concluded, the head servant gave me one final look over before nodding in satisfaction.

“You possess the sufficient skills and personality necessary for the position, not to mention conducting yourself with the respect required for Her Highness, yet with enough strength of will to survive where you’re going. ”

I humbly bowed my head to hide my smirk at my success, satisfied I’d secured my new position as easily as I’d hoped with the aid of magic.

The head servant beckoned me to follow her so I could meet my charge.

My heart beat in a nervous rhythm as she led me through the castle’s labyrinth of corridors, Myst trailing unseen behind me.

I knew I had no reason to dread my encounter with the princess, but somehow the anticipation of seeing her made what had only been a vague, imagined scheme all the more real.

I convinced myself the sole reason for my anxiety was due to how much depended on her demeanor.

The head servant had lavished praises that were undoubtedly exaggerated, bias that left the task of determining the princess’s true character for myself in order for me to navigate the next crucial steps in my plan.

The hallways were emptier of courtiers and servants than I expected in a palace of this size, and the decorations were even more sparse, though I could see evidence this hadn’t always been the case—slightly darker patches on walls where enormous paintings or opulent tapestries had previously hung, or empty tables in nooks that had doubtless once held priceless vases filled with fresh flowers.

These peculiar surroundings held true when I was ushered into a sunlit room.

Princess Gwendolyn was seated on a settee near a window, shoulders bowed as she looked out onto a garden that, while beautiful in a natural, almost wild way, was overgrown in patches, further evidence that the palace lacked the staff necessary to maintain the vast grounds.

The room itself was in a similar state as the rest of the palace—It contained only the bare necessities in furniture and decoration, and while its elegance bore testament to the royal family’s previous wealth and taste, it was antiquated, evidence that even the royal family wasn’t immune to the effects of our kingdom’s depleting magic.

The head servant swept into a deep curtsy. “Princess Gwendolyn, pending your approval I have acquired a potential candidate to serve as your handmaiden.”

The princess hastily dried her eyes, but there was no evidence of her recent tears in the kind smile she bestowed upon me.

“Pleased to meet you. I appreciate your willingness to fill the position on such short notice. What is your name?” Her composed expression was welcoming, her refined features and poised demeanor both regal and surprisingly youthful…

yet her eyes betrayed a hint of underlying anxiety, likely concerning her upcoming marriage.

“Lysa.” I provided the nickname that only my Mother had ever used, my security in case not every official record containing the names of those born with magic had been entirely purged from the royal archives.

The princess’s resulting smile was warm. “I am Princess Gwendolyn, but I don’t like to stand on formality. While in private, I would appreciate if you would call me Gwen.”

I couldn’t allow myself such a liberty—familiarity had no place in my scheme as it would only create unnecessary attachment and I could already tell that the princess’s kind spirit would test my resolve.

Princess Gwendolyn dismissed the head servant, who took her leave with another curtsy.

At her absence the princess’s stiff, formal posture faltered slightly, robbing me of the chance to study it more carefully so I could eventually learn how to mimic it.

“Forgive me for not greeting you with the warmth you deserve,” she said.

“It’s been a trying day after learning about the condition that befell my former handmaiden.

She is very dear to me and it’s been weighing on me ever since I received the news.

” She gently dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief.

So the handmaiden who had once served her was the source of the princess’s grief.

Her sincerity threatened the walls I’d erected to block my conscience, barriers that were necessary for the plan that brewed like the potions I used to watch Mother concoct.

If the deep care Her Highness appeared to harbor was genuine, she was far too tenderhearted for the Eldorian court…

or the betrayal that awaited her at my hand.

I flexed my fingers, allowing the feeling of the scar stretching to remind myself of my purpose.