The Blood Witch

Threats

My first time officially stealing Ash's place is impromptu, in a moment so haphazardly rushed and awkward it sends my heart thumping. All it takes is a persistent knock at the door and Ash's terrible timing while taking a bath.

"Your Highness, are you decent?" A small voice cries from behind the door, the same page boy that's been summoning Ash to and fro all week.

I swear under my breath, jumping up from where I've been practising Ash's signature so much my wrists ache. Emity looks over from the bed, equally as alarmed. Putting on my best attempt at Ash's highborn voice, I reply. "Just a moment, please."

"Your mother requested your presence with company quite urgently, Your Highness."

"I shan't be moment," I call back loudly before sprinting to the bathroom, stumbling on the excessive skirts Ash is forced to wear. Emity quickly begins tugging on her boots. "Ash they need you."

Ash screeches as I slam the door open, sousing himself at the sight of me. A hand shoots from the churning water, slapping at the surrounding tiles before he finds the towel and drags it into the water with him. Seconds later a face emerges, flushed with rage and panic. Covering himself in the soaking cloth, he furiously wipes his soap soaked eyes.

"I asked you not to walk in on me," Ash hisses, voice octaves higher than usual. "I fucking asked you!"

I blanch at the curse, somehow sounding so filthy and foreign from his lips. Seeing the way he clutches the towel to himself, I quickly turn my back. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry- Fuck. Your mother wants you."

"Well you're the only one of us dressed, aren't you? Get out there."

"You're joking."

"Alysha get out of my bathroom and just go see my mother," Ash insists, the beginning of a smirk audible in his voice. "We may as well start easing the rest of the court into it. It will keep them from noticing all the changes at once next week."

"Shit," I mutter, hastily shutting the door and glancing at Emity. "Shit."

She looks nervous enough to give us away all by herself, but squeezes my arm anyway as she follows me to the front door. Dressed in her usual attire of leathers and weaponry, her face is even paler than usual as it sits heavily on her thickset neck. "Just keep quiet, stop cursing and this might... this will work."

"Great." With a deep breath of trepidation, I open the door to the castle beyond.

"You Highness." The page boy waiting at the doorstep is barely into his teens, clothed in the loose pale garb of the palace servants. He bows at the sight of me, unflattering haircut bobbing around his ears. "Your mother awaits."

"Take me to her."

I'm hidden deep under more clothing than I've ever worn in my life, yet I still feel naked as I make my way down the palace halls, Emity steadfast at my side. My skin prickles with unfamiliar vulnerability in the open corridors, I suffer the paranoia of detection under every servant and courtier's gaze. It's like walking naked through a den of the undead.

The page boy delivers us to a large prayer hall in the east wing, great skylights above illuminating the flaming peak of Mt Ignatia rising high above the city. The sight of the distant tumbling flames atop the snow crusted apex stops me in my tracks, it's the first time I've ever been close enough to see the faint orange glow.

It's no wonder the people of Ignasfell worship the Gods so fiercely; they live but a pilgrimage away from the living, burning proof of the Father's love. I'm dimly aware of moving my fingers to touch over over my heart, my eyes and my lips in my first unironic signing of reverence since I was taught it as a child.