October, 1303
Lucinda walked through the small thicket of woods that surrounded Harpoon, England. It was a small town, not large enough to be found on a map, though travelers found it one way or another. It was run by the owner of the large portion of land, Franklin Jones. He was a cruel man with awful intentions, though Lucinda managed to keep him in his place.
She was the resident witch, though she preferred to call herself a healer. Lucinda gave out curses and spells and potions in exchange for something much more dangerous and valuable; secrets.
She had dealt in secrets for as long as she could remember, and knew almost everything about everyone. Lucinda knew that Dottie Wright was having an affair with her sisters husband. She knew that Alexander Daniels was married to three women, and had a total of eleven children.
She knew everything.
Especially about Franklin Herbert Jones.
Because of that, Lucinda was the most dangerous person in their small town, and all of the villagers knew that.
As she walked through the woods, she picked things she knew she could use in her potions and such.
"Lucinda!"
She turned in the direction that the voice had come from, a wicked smile forming on her lips when she saw the source. Charlotte Jones; the Lady of Harpoon.
"Yes," she mused watching as the woman stumbled over tree roots and fallen branches in her ridiculous gown. Lucinda had been helping Charlotte poison her father for many months, having not wanted to go with the man he had married her to. She had completely fallen for the local baker's boy — Alec Bravel — and had been in love since she was fifteen years old, and he had loved her since they were eleven.
As a solution to her problem, Charlotte decided to poison her father without him knowing until he was too close to death to be saved. "It's nearly time," she breathed, clutching her chest.
Lucinda shrugged her shoulders. "That's nice," she shrugged, then carried on her way. After hearing footsteps again from behind her, she turned around with a sigh, basket clutched tightly in her hand. "What do you want from me, Lady Charlotte?"
"I want you there, because I want him to know what's happening to him."
Lucinda stared at the girl a moment, brows raising as a smirk twisting onto her lips. "You're just a down right psychopath in the making, aren't you," she mused.
"You of all people know that he's receiving what he deserves, Lucinda," Charlotte snapped, a frown settling into her beautifully delicate features.
"Alright then," Lucinda sighed dramatically. "Just let me take this back to my house and I'll be right over."
"Thank you," Charlotte breathed, and Lucinda let out a quiet scoff as she watched the girl walk away.
"They only ever do need me when it comes to the death," she sighed, then continued the brief walk through the woods to her small cottage. It was tucked away in the corner of the small forest, where the trees grew the thickest and blocked out the sunlight; the best atmosphere for her dark spells.
The animals that came out during the night were long since transformed by the magic that leaked from the large cracks in the stone, straw and wood, and had become her servants in their own twisted way. They killed anyone who entered her 'claim' of the woods and the bodies were never found, much to the villagers dismay.
•••
"Lady Charlotte, you paged?" Lucinda called sweetly as she entered the Jones household. The sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway caused her to fight off a brief smirk at the presence of Matilda Jones, Charlotte's mother.
"Oh thank goodness you're hear, Lucinda," the older woman gasped, grasping Lucinda's pale hands in her own withered ones. A white wicker basket was dangling lightly from the young girls wrist, filled with herbs, animal bones, and other things that she would use to 'heal' Franklin Jones.
"I came as soon as I could," she murmured convincingly, following behind the Duchess. She was lead down the hall the woman had previously come from, and into a large room with a four poster bed at the back of the room, many household servants and doctors surrounding it.
"He can't breathe," Duchess Matilda sobbed, fresh tears falling down her cheeks. Lucinda silently made her way over to the bed, sparing the man a glance with her twinkling blue eyes. She was a powerful witch, not even needing a spell. All she had to do was say a few words and focus her magical energy on an object, and that was her spell.
"You," the old man wheezed, blood splattering from his lips and onto his white bed shirt as he coughed violently. Lucinda could see Matilda and her daughter holding onto each other, Charlotte's hand clutching that of the man she wanted to marry.
"Correct," the red head smiled, then turned to face the rooms inhabitants. "I need space, so I would appreciate it if you would all get out." Duchess Matilda quickly ushered everyone out of the room, desperately hoping the man she loved could be saved. Once everyone was gone, Lucinda shot Duke Franklin Jones a wicked smirk.
"I'll have burned at the stake," the old man gasp, and Lucinda rolled her eyes, setting her basket down on the bed side table.
"No you won't," she answered casually. "You'll be dead in the next few minutes." Lucinda had left a hex bag in the flower pot by the rooms door, rendering the room sound proof.
"You can't —"
"— Oh but darling, I can; and I will," Lucinda chuckled, shaking her head. She busied her hands with a piece of canvas as well as herbs and animal bones, preparing them to make yet another hex bag; though this one was much more powerful.
"I suspect this will hurt," Lucinda hummed after a long few moments of silence — ignoring the fact that Franklin Jones was continuously coughing up blood — as she tied off the bag. "I would prepare yourself."
"You will burn," Franklin hissed as she tucked the hex bag under his shirt, patting the cloth over top of it afterwards, shooting the old man a sweet smile.
"There's no proof," she chuckled. "I do not believe I will ever feel the flames below my feet." She let out a sigh and took three small steps back, bringing her hands up so they were in line with her shoulders and hovering above his chest.
"Acerbissima morte!"
She continued to chant the same thing over and over again a smirk twisting onto her lips when he began to cough more violently, blood now covering his chest.
"You'll burn in hell," Franklin choked out, dying. Lucinda rolled her eyes at his limp body, lifting the collar of his shirt to remove the hex bag.
"In order to burn in hell, Darling, you have to die first," she chuckled, shaking her head. "And I don't plan on dying."
After she removed all the evidence of Franklin Jones' violent death, she easily put on a solemn expression and opened the door, glancing at Lady Charlotte before turning to Matilda.
"I did all I could," she murmured. "But he was too far gone." Lady Matilda collapsed into her hand maids arms, loud sobs falling from her lips as the young dark haired girl removed her from the hallway. The rest of the servants disappeared slowly, silently paying their respects, until only Lady Charlotte and Alec Bravel remained.
"Did he know," she implied, swallowing thickly as Alec wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Lucinda nodded, letting out a tired sigh as she looped the basket through her arm.
"Indeed he did," she mused. "Now I believe you owe me payment; money or secrets. Take your pick." Charlotte and Alec shared a brief glance at how casual the red haired girl seemed, then the smaller of the pair let out a sigh.
"I am with child," Charlotte breathed, and Lucinda's brows flew up.
"That is indeed enough payment," she chuckled, the spun on her heel and strutted down the hall, hips swaying with each step. "I'm sorry for your loss, Duchess Matilda," Lucinda whispered, her expression changing from playful to solemn in a split second.
"Thank you for trying, Miss Lucinda," Matilda whispered, wiping her eyes with a hanker chief. Lucinda fought away the laughter that bubbled up her throat and she nodded.
"I only wish I could have done more."
Duchess Matilda grasped her wrist before she could fully exit the house. "I know you did this for my daughter, and for that I am thankful," she whimpered, and then walked away.
A/N
I'm really hoping this turns out okay
H.