The Prince Of Curses h.s.

Eighteen

I sat in the garden as a cool breeze threaded through my hair. 

I made it a mission to figure out how to heal some of the flowers I had killed a few weeks before. I was more determined than ever to master my magic. 

I had begun to realize that being a witch meant much more than just controlling magic. I had begun feeling a rising responsibility to bring justice to nature. To heal and spread wellness.

I desperately wished that I could have help from my ancestors— the witches before me. It was almost lonely being the only known witch. I often found myself wishing I had someone else to relate to— to learn off of. I knew I could always go back to the statue, see if the witch spirits would communicate with me again. But after what happened last time, I wanted to become stronger before I tried communicating again.

I also was astounded that this part of me was silenced for so long. I had never expected nor experienced being a witch before coming here, and I was undecided whether this experience would become a blessing or a curse. 

I was currently kneeling on the ground, my dress tucked tightly under my legs. I closed my eyes as I cupped my hands around a single dead flower, allowing my magic to flow through my skin. I tried to remember everything Harry had taught me the first time he tried to get me to use magic to heal a flower. Heal, I commanded, holding my concentration.

I felt a light brush against the inside of my palm. I opened my eyes and watched as the dead rose slowly came back to life. Red color seeped through the burnt black petals, softening them. I smiled to myself, looking down at the newly lifelike flower. 

Now if I could only do that to the hundreds more that were hanging from the rest of the bushes. 

I went to wrap my hands around a second rose when a voice behind me made me lose my concentration. 

"Madam," I turned to see a servant standing behind me.  "Would you like some refreshments?" she offered, handing me a cup of tea.

I looked at her, wondering why she had come over here to offer me this. Usually, Olesia would come to ask me these things. "No thank you," I said, turning down her offer. I turned back to my rose, cupping my hands around it once more. I closed my eyes, breathing in the cool air, trying to steady my concentration.

A deep exhale brushed past my lips as I focused my mind on wellness. I imagined the blackened flower blossoming into something bright and red. I felt my magic travel down my arms and into my fingertips. 

I started to transfer my magic to the flower when another voice came from behind me, breaking my concentration again. I lightly gritted my teeth together as I opened my eyes and craned my neck to turn around.

"Madam," another servant said— a different servant than before. "Fresh bagel from the kitchen?" she smiled, extending a bowl of bread towards me. 

I narrowed my eyes, assessing her. Something about these encounters didn't feel right. I had never been approached by random servants who offered me things. I tore my gaze away from the servant to scan the courtyard. My eyes halted once I spotted Harry, who was standing on the opposite side, his hands in his pockets as a group of men talked around him. He gave me a smile that was almost teasing, his eye dropping into a wink. 

I turned back to the servant, "No thank you."

I watched as she nodded, walking off. I rotated my head back towards the other side of the courtyard. I had never seen Harry look so soft. His lips were still curled into a smile as he eyed me back. It was like night and day with him.

One of the men started talking toward him, making Harry look back to the group. I shook my head, turning back to the flower bush. 

My hands cupped around the dead petals once more as I took deep breaths through my nose, exhaling out of my mouth. I called for my magic again, focusing on healing the wilted plant. My fingertips began to buzz with anticipation, waiting to transfer my magic to something else.