𝙪𝙣𝙗𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙙 | 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯

33. - CHRISTMAS LIGHTS

"Duchess Isabel looks worried," Catherine, Melissa's soon-to-be twelve year old sister noted.

"She fears of Elizabeth's retribution," the red-head replied. "Because of her father's execution of John."

"John attacked her, did he not?" The youngest Woodville was puzzled. "Is beheading not the punishment for that?"

"Oh, it is," the duchess nodded. "But our sister will not see sense, and her previous dislike of Warwick and George has only served to exacerbate the situation."

"Does that have anything to do with their curse?"

The question was innocent, but it had Melissa whipping around.

"What?"

Cate bit her lip, "'Twas an accident. I do not think that they meant for me to know."

"There is a curse?" The red-head's eyebrows rose impossibly high. "What curse?"

"The one in her locket."

Realization dawned on the duchess like an immediate strike of lightning.

"The one Elizabeth has taken to wearing nowadays?"

At Cate's nod, Melissa stifled the urge to swear. She should have known. Elizabeth's taste in jewelry was usually more prolific than the odd little locket. It was a simple piece of metal that swung open, held around her neck by a leather string. What strangeness!

"How did you find out?" She continued to question her youngest sister. "What else do you know?"

"Papa asked me to go find mother. I went to Elizabeth's chambers, because that's where she usually is, when I overheard her talking. I could not help but listen." Catherine admitted.

"What did she say?"

"That it was done. That she had written their names down in..." she lowered her voice, looking around cautiously. "In blood."

"Damn it, Elizabeth!" This time, Melissa did not stifle her anger.

The magic Melusina had gifted them — the seeings and the gifts of destiny (like Melissa's key and Elizabeth's crown ring) — was uncertain. Every single branch of it depended on almost a thousand variables. Such was its nature, those relatively harmless parts of magic ... but a curse? Dear Lord, what was her sister thinking? The chances that this would backfire and hurt an innocent was too great, even if the intended recipients were Warwick and George.

"Is it really bad?" Cate whispered.

Melissa sighed and looked back out the window. Her eyebrows rose when she saw Edward embracing his brother, whom he had done naught but insult for the past few months.

"It has the potentiality of being fatal," the duchess admitted. Seeing the fear in her sister's eyes, she pulled the girl into a half-hug. "Do not worry your pretty little head about it. I will find a way to remit the consequences."

Cate nodded in acceptance, and the two moved from their position by the window. As Melissa led her sister to her upcoming harp lesson, her mind could not help but wander.

"Why would mother do this? She knows the dangers of cursing; she told me about them herself. No matter how much she adores Elizabeth, surely she would warn her of the drawbacks?"

Yet, despite that thought, a strange feeling inside her said that this curse had been made while mother was in the throes of her grief — for both father and John. Back then, she likely hadn't known that father was still alive. As such, she had not thought of what could happen in the aftermath.