[wattys 2018 shortlisted]
Humans see her as a dangerous threat -a witch that must be executed. With the uncontrollable ability to form ice at her fingertips, Ravenna is forced into hiding amongst the humans, stealing to survive. That is, until she h...
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FOUR DAYS PASSED and there was still no sign of progress regarding the king's health. A status report appeared in front of Eoin at breakfast. It often took the form a lovely handwritten parchment that sat atop a marble platter, aged paper curled and bound with a thin piece of ribbon. The royal physician rarely excused herself from the king's bedside to deal with Eoin's anger in person.
The king's condition was still undiagnosed. His body was covered in leeches at least twice a day, for very short segments of time. Other remedies were also explored. One morning, the royal physician placed bright green witch-lights around the royal chamber, as well as several strange plants. She assured Eoin that the new additions held magical healing properties that would drastically improve the king's condition. All the magic needed in order to work was some time.
In the end, however, it really made no difference at all.
Ravenna spent most of her time hiding within the walls of her old bedroom. She never felt truly comfortable in Eoin's bedroom or in his actual presence. The more time that passed without improvement from his father, the more angry Eoin became. Most of his mornings were spent ruling over the kingdom, just as he had before. The crown prince went from one royal engagement to the next without much time to spare. The moment that the sun reached the middle of the sky, however, Eoin was storming through the castle, a mug of alcohol in hand.
He was a violent drunk.
One afternoon, Ravenna found herself in her bedroom, curled up on her old bed while she skimmed through Caelan's old spellbook. It was somewhat of a comfort item to her now. She was able to stare at the familiar scribbled words without really seeing, which allowed her to think more clearly. It gave her time to work through her plan to save Vyses and Lyth.
A heavy thump sounded against her door, drawing her attention toward it. Her brows furrowed in confusion as another thump rattled the door and then it burst open. Eoin stood in front of it. He leaned against the frame of the door for support.
"There you are," he said and pointed at her. "Beautiful girl."
Ravenna watched him, unimpressed. Eoin waddled toward a chair that was pressed against the wall across from her. It was part of a small seating area that Alyss had helped Ravenna create. He slumped down into the chair. The ale sloshed around within his mug, droplets splashing over its rim and onto his sapphire blue tunic. He set the mug down atop the marble table beside him, without really ever letting go of it.
"You have had quite a bit to drink," she observed and her eyes narrowed as he squinted at her. "A bit too much."
"Nah," he responded. His voice was thick with sleepiness. His free hand lifted, index finger outstretched in her direction again. "You," he insisted.
She arched an eyebrow. "I, what?"
His face scrunched up and flushed bright red — a fresh burst of anger flowing through his veins. "You are the problem," he snapped. His words were slurred.
