Angelique only half-listened as Snow White explained her unfortunate tale to the warriors. The princess struggled some, stammering and tripping over some words—it seemed like speaking or being the center of attention was difficult for her. But the love she held for her stepmother seemed to push her through as she told the warriors about Faina’s attack on her, and—despite their openly calling Queen Faina mad—insisted it was not her stepmother’s fault.
Unfortunately, it seemed Snow White’s arguments were not convincing enough for the Seven Warriors. They were too jaded from their time spent hunting monsters in the wilds—something Angelique could empathize with.
But in this case, they’re wrong.
As such, Angelique wasn’t surprised when Snow White grabbed her hand, her eyes shining with desperation, and asked her if magic could be the cause of Faina’s rage.
“Please,” Snow White said.
Angelique scratched her head. “It’s hard to say. She’s not cursed—those don’t come and go on a person like that—and curses are what I have the most experience in. But I’ve encountered enough dark magic over the years to say it’s possible it might be affecting Queen Faina. There’s certainly a lot of it swirling around the continent these days, making it far more likely. It’s impossible to know for sure, though, unless you are in her presence.”
It's almost certainly the Chosen, but I can’t really tell them I’ve been spying. If my identity gets out, whoever is doing this to Faina will run. I will not let that happen!
Snow White drooped. “There have been mages with healing magic in the palace over the past few years. Would they have noticed?”
“I imagine so,” Marzell said.
Angelique barely resisted shaking a finger at him. “Not necessarily.”
Marzell raised an eyebrow. “You think a Veneno Conclave mage would miss such a thing?”
“Call me a cynic, but with the way the continent has been plagued the last few years, they seem rather incompetent, or at the very least cowardly.” Angelique swallowed the hour of complaints she’d like to air about the Conclave and made herself smile instead. Though the smile was so tight, it was probably closer to a grimace.
“What is it about Queen Faina’s actions that make it hard to say if someone—or something—is using magic on her?” Rupert, the pale and almost fragile-looking warrior, asked.
“From the way Snow White tells it, these moods or fits, you could say, have come and gone for a year,” Angel said. “It would take an extraordinary amount of self-control and courage to fight off such magic for so long.”
It’s the one thing that bothers me about this. Black magic is relentless. If a Chosen mage is casting a spell on her, there’s no way she’d be able to fight it off for so long.
Snow White clasped her hands together. “P-perhaps whoever is doing this to her has done that on purpose to make it more gradual, so we wouldn’t notice until it was too late?”
Angelique thought for a moment, then nodded. “That’s a distinct possibility. Given what dark magic users are running around, I can say they’re certainly capable of doing such a thing—though it’s awfully gutsy to do so when the Veneno Conclave has taken up residence in the front courtyard, so to speak—even if the Conclave has lost its teeth in recent years. Still, I’m not saying it couldn’t be done. Particularly given that such a crafty spell would be much harder to find—which would explain why the healers never noticed it. There are a couple other possibilities, of course. Ancient cursed—or magical—artifacts can be responsible for such things. They can hold people under sway, provide extra power, or possess rare magic. Although, they are rarer than unicorns these days.”
Or they could be using Evariste’s power on the queen if he truly is in Juwel.
“So it’s even less likely that an object could be responsible for this than a dark mage,” Marzell said.
“Mmmm, yeah,” Angelique said.
The group continued to talk, but she only half paid attention as she mulled over the possibility of Evariste being used.
Somewhere behind her the wolverine and the frail-but-not-really-frail warrior started arguing, which—naturally—erupted into an actual fight. The two scuffled behind Angelique as she thoughtfully tapped her chin.
I need more information. Right now, I’m just guessing. I’m not even absolutely certain Evariste is in Juwel. But how could I learn more?
Rupert attempted to punch Oswald but nearly fell over from the force of a bad sneeze.
Oswald pulled a dagger from his belt, which made Angelique’s ever-eager core magic perk up again.
Angelique mentally patted it as she would a dog as Oswald and Rupert barreled past her, Rupert unsheathing his sword to block the dagger and then kicking his companion.
I can, however, say with great certainty that Faina’s fits are the work of the Chosen.
Oswald threw his dagger—which made Angelique’s magic wistfully twine around her feet—and hit a hanging basket of onions, spilling the vegetable everywhere.
Angelique caught an onion that nearly smacked her kneecap. This doesn’t perfectly fit their pattern, but I imagine the presence of the Conclave has forced their hand to a certain extent.
The tumbling onions hit the table, which roused the sleeping warrior—Gregori. When his snores stopped, the duo froze—teetering dangerously in the middle of kicks they dared not finish.
A few moments passed, and the sleeping warrior slightly adjusted his splayed position on the table and renewed his snores.
Rupert and Oswald glared at one another and started hissing insults at each other as Snow White and Marzell spoke in hushed undertones by the fireplace—Snow White doing her best to convince the warrior that Faina was being attacked.
When I attempt to send word to Severin, perhaps I should also contact Clovicus and find out if there is a spell that can do what Snow White has described? It would have to be a black magic spell, which means he likely won’t know straight off. But he might be able to find something in the Conclave library.
Angelique happened to glance at Snow White. Her expression was shattered—as if Marzell had torn her heart from her chest.
That can’t be good.
Angelique meandered closer to the pair.
“For at least five years now, Faina has been making increasingly poor decisions as a ruler,” Marzell stated.
Five years…that’s even longer than the headaches. Why didn’t the Chosen move sooner? Were they delaying on purpose?
Snow White started to shake her head to refute his words, but Marzell stalled her by raising his hands.
“Hear me out, please,” he said. “My friends and I came here and have lived in the woods because we so strongly disagree with her.”
Angelique—despite her determination to play a minor role in what was clearly country politics—couldn’t help but pipe up. “Is it really possible for that bright-haired idiot to feel strongly about anything besides himself?” she asked, nodding at Aldelbert.
Marzell ignored the comment. “There have been attacks on our borders—not attacks from other countries, but from terrible creatures: chimera, hell hounds, goblins… Queen Faina has chosen to ignore them.”
Quinn and I had heard the occasional rumor about the creatures, but I didn’t think there were that many. Of course, Marzell might believe there’re many given that he hasn’t stepped foot outside of suspiciously tranquil Mullberg.