violently.
«She’s waking up!» Orvel determined. «I’ll take her upstairs to my ex-fiancée’s quarters.»
«You swore you wouldn’t take any more harlots.»
«This one’s innocent. I can smell it.»
«She’s a witch,» Orvnella said stubbornly.
«No, she isn’t. There’s something magical about her, but not witchy.»
«But she’ll burn at the stake as a witch!»
«Why don’t you leave her to us?» Orvel was begging. «The room of the Crown Prince’s dead bride is still empty, and apparently it will be empty forever.»
«You don’t want to marry a commoner, do you?»
«Well, no, of course not,» Orwell hesitated. «But she might amuse us.»
Fiona was frightened. For some reason she invariably associated amusement with scratches and claws and savage pain. Oh, why had she gone in the mountains? If she hadn’t gone there, she wouldn’t have ended up in a dungeon.
Ornella leaned over her and ran her fingers through her tangled hair.
«She is a redhead and she has no freckles!» For some reason Ornella was alarmed by this fact.
Yes, Fiona had no freckles. So what is of it? Redheads usually had them, but someone got away with it. You should be happy, not sad! Freckles and pimples were all skin blemishes. Fiona was glad she didn’t have to cover her freckles with homemade flour whitewash, not enough for the market. Ornella, on the other hand, was even angry.
«Remember the prophecies about the redheaded beast who…» She clutched at her brother’s sleeve.
«Ch-ch-ch!» he glanced at Fiona, who couldn’t stand it and opened her eyes.
«After a fire, memories turn to ashes too, so let her listen!» Ornella waved her ringed hand and straightened up stately.
«But it wouldn’t hurt to put the plugs in!» Orvel remarked.
Fiona felt a blockage in her ears, but not for long. She couldn’t hear anything at first. All she could see was Ornella’s pursed lips opening aggressively, and her brother shaking his head negatively. Then fragments of phrase began to be heard again.
«What do you mean, you can’t? You could! You have to learn better!»
«It is Sephora. She is a bad teacher and she is too flaming.»
«She’s the best, that’s why she’s fiery.»
Isn’t that the firebrand they’re talking about? That one hissed in a web of fire, hovering over Ornella’s head. A moment and her redheaded fingers reached for the crown on Ornella’s head, causing the metal to glow. Ornella shuddered, and quickly stepped back into the shadows. Smoke billowed from her strands.
«You are thieves!» She hissed at the fire fairies. «I’ll have you burned at the stake for disrespecting the Queen!»
The fairies merely laughed evilly.
«Then I’ll drown you! Give you to the Morgens as tribute!»
The flaming fairies kept silence, and scurried away. It was dark without them. Only Ornella’s jewels exuded a little golden glow, and the torches of the guards gingerly glowed behind the bars in the distance.
«I will invite Sephora again,» Ornella promised to Orvel.
«But don’t invite her dragons again!» He exclaimed.
«They are like her train. They are always around.»
«You don’t own us!»
«Yes, I do!»
She showed her claws. Birds’ claws on woman’s hands! Fiona shuddered.
«Yes, I see, I see!» Her brother brushed her off.
Fiona seemed to have lost her only protector. Orvel gave up. The newfound Queen of Sultanit bent over Fiona again and tugged her hair painfully.
«She is a redhead! All redheads are sorceresses. They must be tortured and burned.»
Fiona did not have time to object, and no one would have listened to her. Ornella had already summoned the guards.
The guards here were empty-headed in the literal sense. It was as if they had been turned into sleepwalkers. They moved like machines.
«Go to the bonfire!» Ornella ordered. «And go quickly!»
«It’s not fair!» Fiona screamed. «I am not a witch! You are the witch!»
Ornella’s face grew icy as she stepped toward the troubled condemned woman. Only her anthracite eyes flashed furiously with anger. Now she’s going to attack!
«My dear!» Ornella lifted her lips to her ear as if to kiss her cheek. «Never confuse witch and werewolf!»
And a bird’s claws slid across her shoulder, marking her like a brand.
Fiona cried out in pain, not outrage. She was dragged up the stairs and down the luxurious corridor of the castle, which appeared to lead through an intricate network of galleries and balconies, all the way to the front door.
On the way she ran into Condor. He was handsome as the dawn and as angry as the devil himself.
«What does it mean!» He shouted in fury.
The guards and Ornella all fell to their knees. They were frightened of him, weren’t they? Are they afraid of him? Fiona held her breath. Maybe he could help her out. He didn’t like her at first sight. But she saw him, and her heart leapt at him like a bird in a cage.
How handsome he was! And how inaccessible! Ornella’s other brothers like her, and she is attracted to someone who doesn’t care about her.
«It is just the execution of the witch who has worn out the king with her black magic!» Ornella commented.
«Is it just one witch?» Condor looked at Ornella as if he expected her to be dragged to the bonfire. «Really, the greatest evil is letting a witch get so bad that she sits on the throne and runs the whole country.»
«Shut up!» Ornella shushed him. «Remember the arrangements!»
Condor weighed his chances of winning the debate and nodded silently. Fiona was dragged along.
The fire fairies were already flying over the square and spitting fire, forming a large bonfire. The executioner stood idle. And in such a witch land they still burn witches! Magic is everywhere.
What on earth possessed her to go up into the mountains and encounter an entire witch royal community? Curiosity is a nasty trait! It was curiosity that had led her to the bonfire, and to unrequited love. She tried to twist herself in the hands of the guards so that she could get another look at Condor. She wished that the last thing she would see before she died was
