Theresa's head throbbed and nausea welled up in her gut. She was uncomfortable and her mouth was dry. Her body ached. Her arm burned where the knife had sliced her.
She could not move. Her first horrified thought was that she was under her aunt's coercive magic again.
But, at least she was alive.
She opened her eyes and found that they were hers to command. Light flooded in and it hurt.
She realized that she was tied securely to a chair in a dingy room lit by wall sconces. There was a gag across her mouth.
She thought that she was alone until Francine spoke. "Oh dear, you're awake. I had hoped that you would remain unconscious. It would have been so much better for you."
Theresa moaned through the gag in her mouth.
"Don't scream, now." Her aunt walked over and pulled the gag from her mouth.
"What? Where am I?" Theresa asked. "What are you going to do?"
Francine stroked Theresa's head gently. It hurt when the hand ran over the lump at the back. "I've done some thinking tonight," Francine explained in an oddly gentle tone.
Theresa could not summon hope that Francine's thinking had led to any good conclusion for Theresa.
"I've always known what I've done to you in the past was wrong, although necessary. However, I've decided to rectify it."
Theresa was confused. Waking up tied to a chair was about as far from rectifying past wrongs as Theresa could imagine. She felt dizzy and afraid.
"I suppose you want to understand. I would, were I in your position," Francine said in a gentle tone that raised the hairs on the back of Theresa's neck. Theresa could only stare at her.
"While I watched you today, I realized how alike our situations are. I spent the greater part of my life being neglected by the people who should have taken care of me. Then your father was born and I was thrown away at the first opportunity. It's much the same with you. Daphne is charming, but she is nothing compared to you, Theresa. She is unworthy of the affection that is thrown on her by everyone around her," Francine explained.
"I love Daphne," Theresa protested, although a small part of her sank since she agreed with part of her aunt's words. Had she not sometimes been jealous of Daphne?
Francine looked musingly. "I love Daphne, too. I suppose I also loved Eric."
Theresa swallowed at the mention of her father.
"Still, he stole everything that should have been mine. When my mother died and my father was free to remarry, he married a woman only a few years older than I and she almost immediately produced the long awaited son. I was never anything to that man and Eric was everything," she said in an oddly singsong tone that was belied by the note of bitterness.
Theresa was struck with a horrible thought that she could not prevent herself from voicing. "Did you kill him?" she asked.
Francine smiled sadly and the lack of denial was answer enough.
"And my mother?"
"A horrible accident."
Theresa could not help the tears that began to slide down her face. It was like they had died all over again. "He was your brother," she said softly.
"I had no choice," Francine explained sadly. "He was a weak man. I should have inherited the estate. I've done better by it than he would ever have."
"But he was my father," Theresa said again. Francine really had stolen everything from her.
"If he had remained alive, they would have eventually produced a male heir and everything would have been stolen from you. I could not let it happen. I convinced him to make you the heir. I helped him convince the king."
"With magic?" Theresa asked.
"It wasn't hard. He really did love you girls. I just convinced him to make me your guardian rather than James, a wise choice considering the constitution of that weak fool. I've done well, so much better than any man would have."
"By the estate," Theresa said slowly.
"Yes, by the estate. But I have erred with regards towards you. You are like me, but you may just have found someone who cares about you for your own sake. I realized that while I watched you with Wildwood tonight."
Her heart pounded frantically.
"It is cruel of me to keep you from him," Francine mused.
"Please, Aunt Francine. Then let me go to him. Keep the estate. Keep the title. They are as much yours as mine," Theresa begged. Her dignity, her constant companion had deserted her.
She did not care about her fortune and she began to suspect Wildwood would not either. Even if he did not want her around, she could always go with Daphne and Thomas. Her sister would not cast her out.
Her life would be far from perfect, but she might be finally free. She felt the beginning of hope welling within her.
Francine tilted her head oddly. Theresa held her breath. "I wish I could do that for you. I truly do, but matters have become such a tangle."
"Please. I'll convince them."
"The king would never allow it or believe that you would relinquish such a thing to me. He would be suspicious. They all would. I'm so sorry."
Theresa's slight hopes were dashed. Whatever Francine was sorry about would not be good for Theresa.
Francine began to stroke Theresa's forehead while she spoke as if trying to soothe her. Theresa wished her hands were free to push her aunt away, but they were bound so tightly they were numb.
"I've already made you untraceable and I'm concealing all sense of magic. I have no choice but to take care of matters. I'm so sorry, my dear girl. I really will miss you, my beloved niece, but I have to take care of myself. I always have."
Francine sighed. "Sometimes, in a world of men, we women have to do distasteful things and get our hands dirty to survive," Francine said in a regretful tone.
Theresa should not be shocked, but she was. In spite of everything, she had never really believed Francine would kill her. Francine was her aunt. She was horrible, but murder was in a different league entirely.
But it was sickeningly possible. Francine had killed her parents. How many more people would die in her lust for power and security?
"There's no point in screaming. No one will hear you outside of this room. I've bespelled those closest to you not to easily remark your absence."
Theresa strained against the ropes that bound her. "What are you going to do?" she whispered, filled with dread, but needing to know more.
Francine nodded. "I'm going to transform you again, my dear. I do hope that this time your mind is overcome so that you do not suffer."
Theresa stared. She did not want to know, but she asked in spite of her dread. "Into what?"
"A spider. Then I'll simply step on you and you will never suffer again." Francine smiled at her and Theresa felt bile rise in her throat.
"Please, no! Please. I'll always obey you! I won't ever cause trouble. Please! Don't do this to me! Please!"
"I'm so sorry. I suppose I could turn you into a beetle instead, if you prefer."
Theresa pushed with all her might against the ropes and she watched as Francine concentrated her magic. Theresa screamed and she could feel tears running down her face. She scrunched her eyes closed and tried not to think about the fate that she was absolutely helpless to prevent.
And she felt nothing. She opened one cautious eye and saw herself, standing in front of her. Francine was identical to Theresa, even down to the dress and the flower in her hair.
Francine spoke to her in Theresa's own voice. "It would be odd if you simply disappeared, of course. The magic upon me is muted so that no one will know I'm disguised. I'll be sure to let Wildwood down gently," Francine promised.
"He'll know you aren't me because you won't bear his spells."
"Oh, Theresa, you really are such a clever girl. I truly wish I had managed you differently, but it's too late now. Don't worry, I intend to transform myself once everything is done, and I have an excellent explanation prepared for when he counter transforms me back."
Theresa hung her head. Francine seemed to have thought of everything.
"Now don't worry. This will not hurt a bit. And you can rest assured that I will do my very best to avoid being forced into harming anyone else."
Theresa had no words left while she waited for the spell. There would be no dodging this time; there was nothing that she could do to save herself.
No, she could not give up. Maybe, if she jerked at the right moment, she could knock over the chair.
Theresa watched her aunt and waited for the moment. She jumped at a harsh pounding upon the door that shook the strong wood down to its hinges.
"Oh, drat. Wildwood must have managed to notice your absence. Matters might have gone very differently if my husband had been more like him. I wonder how he found our location. Can nothing ever be simple?" Francine muttered, not looking overly concerned.
The door burst off its hinges. "Wildwood!" Theresa cried, more thankful than she had ever felt before.
Francine spoke before he could do anything. "Lord Wildwood!" she cried, sounded exactly like Theresa, even to Theresa's ears. "She kidnapped me, but I managed to knock her on the head and tie her up. She was about to cast a spell on me, to change me into a spider and murder me! She was going to take my place." Francine threw herself into Wildwood's arms and sobbed dramatically.
Wildwood looked at the real Theresa so coldly that she could feel it all the way down to her heart. He looked down at Francine and closed his arms around her. "I'm so glad that you're safe. I was so worried when I found you missing," he said to the fake Theresa.
Theresa felt like she had been stabbed through the heart.
"Wildwood! No, I'm Theresa! I'm me," Theresa cried to him and she felt tears well up in eyes.
How could he not see through Francine's deceptions?
Francine also continued crying, "She's trying to trick you," she wailed. "She's such a good liar! I just want to be free of her. I love you, Lord Wildwood! Don't let her separate us!"
"I love you, too, Lady Theresa," he said gently. "We'll go and find the king."
Theresa knew that Wildwood was not safe with Francine. "Wildwood! Be careful! She'll kill you!"
"Francine, your lies have no effect on me."
Theresa felt loneliness spread throughout her. He had said that he would protect her and Francine had fooled him so easily. Would she harm him now that his guard was down?
At this rate Theresa would probably be prosecuted for Francine's crimes and spend her life in the king's dungeon if she did not simply lose her head.
She hated Francine. If only she was a wizardress who could kill with magic.