The Blood Spell (Ravenspire, #4)(69)
Or.
She could create a fake potion, write it on some of the old parchment sheets Grand-mère had kept in the closet for Blue to scribble on when she was little, and pretend she’d found it in some of Mama’s old things. Dinah wouldn’t know the difference, and hopefully it would get her out of Blue’s life for good.
Energized by her plan, Blue hurried to splash cold water on her face, rub some of the oil Grand-mère kept on the dressing table into her curls, and brush her teeth. When she was finished, she sat on the floor in front of the closet and began pulling out the wooden boxes that lined its floor.
Quilting squares, yarn, and pieces of muslin with designs half stitched onto them filled the first box. Neatly organized headscarves filled the second. Blue pulled out a purple scarf with silver beaded fringe and tied it around her head before reaching for the next box. That one contained a collection of books, their spines cracked with age.
“Apple cakes are ready!” Grand-mère called.
“I’ll be right there.” Blue pulled out another box and took off the lid. A heavy velvet cloth in shimmering blue covered the contents of the box. Blue lifted the cloth and gasped. Nestled in the folds of more velvet lay the most beautiful pair of shoes she’d ever seen. The heels were thin spikes encrusted with gold filigree embedded with blue sapphires. The body of the shoe was a delicate swoop of fabric dusted with real gold and laced at the ankle with a golden chain encrusted with tiny diamonds. A large purple-blue feronghe jewel rested above the tiny opening that would allow the wearer’s toes to peek out.
They were extravagant. Feronghe jewels were a rare find on Llorenyae, prized by witches and alchemists alike for their ability to accept protective enchantments, and the other jewels on the dancing slippers would bring more coin than the alchemy shop saw in profit for six months.
“Blue, these cakes aren’t going to eat themselves!”
“Coming!”
Blue put the shoes back into the box and slid them into the closet. She’d ask Grand-mère about them later. Pulling out the final box, she found the old, yellowed sheets of parchment she needed. Taking several, she hurried to the kitchen where fresh apple cakes were flipping themselves in the skillet, the sea breeze was tangling with the row of chimes hanging by the open window, and just outside the window, Dinah Chauveau was striding up to the cottage.
Grand-mère whipped around to face the front door, her wand already raised. “Thinks she can come to my house and tell me what’s what, does she? I’ll turn her into a real snake.”
“You can’t turn her into a snake.” Blue snatched a handful of apple cakes from a platter on the table, hastily shoved the folded pieces of parchment into her dress pocket, and ran to get between Grand-mère and the door.
“Watch me. The spell might wear off in a few hours, but I’ll certainly feel better about things.”
“But then she’ll turn back into a woman, and she’ll know that you use magic. She’ll bring the royal council down on your head, and even the queen’s friendship can’t save us if you break the law. Especially now that a witch is doing harmful spells in the city.” Blue gently pushed Grand-mère’s wand arm down. “Dinah just wants to go to the shop for the day, I’m sure. I’ll leave with her. Kellan is already looking into the guardianship document. Maybe he’ll find a way to get me out of it.”
Grand-mère grudgingly sheathed her wand as Dinah rapped smartly at the door. “Maybe I’ll pay a visit to the castle myself. Your mother saved Balavata once. It’s time they remembered the kind of favors they owe us.”
Blue wrapped her arms around Grand-mère, holding tight for as long as she dared while the knocking behind her grew more impatient. Finally, she said, “I love you. Don’t use your wand outside the cottage.”
Grand-mère snorted, but her voice was warm as she said, “I love you too. Now get that woman off my property before I decide to have snake stew for lunch.”
Dinah was silent on their carriage journey from the farmhouse to the shop. Her lips were pinched tight, her fingers restlessly tugging at the lace that hemmed the sleeves of her expensive yellow day dress. At first, Blue figured Dinah was still angry with her for running away from the root cellar and sleeping at Grand-mère’s at Kellan’s behest, but then she remembered the reason Kellan had arrived so late to the house in the first place.
Clearing her throat, Blue tried to sound compassionate. “I was sorry to hear about Marisol Evrard and Genevieve Gaillard. I’m sure you must be worried about your girls.”
Dinah sniffed. “Marisol was a silly girl, and Genevieve wasn’t anything remarkable. Their deaths narrow the field of competition.” Her fingers worried the lace, and her voice softened. “But yes, my girls are in danger. Jacinthe especially, since she’s spent more time with the prince. And I no longer have the resources to protect them.”
“Can’t you just bring your guards from your quarter and assign them to your daughters?” It seemed like the most obvious solution.
“If I could, don’t you think I’d have done it already?” Dinah snarled. “Guards must be paid.”
“But—”
“Prince Kellan left two guards on the property to watch them while I’m gone today, which means the queen will now know about my financial situation even before the royal magistrate’s report is finished.” There was rage in her voice.