The Herbwitch's Apprentice Ireen Chau (best life changing books txt) 📖

been years since manbane got into human hands. The victim, if there is one, would be long gone by now.”

I bit my lip. “She isn’t.”

Lana whirled around. I had never seen her so pale. “What are you saying?”

“Queen Cordelia,” I said. “She was poisoned by manbane recently.”

Her mouth thinned. “How can you be sure?”

I told her everything I had found out, from the scarlet smoke at the Debutante Ball to the results of Erasmus’s lab experiment to the investigation with Ash. I told her of the manbane I had extracted with my extracting potion. I told her that if no one in Witch Village made an antidote for the queen, she would not survive.

Lana stared hard at the spot above my head. “Foolish girl. You should have never told that inspector of your magic. And why are you so concerned about a human queen?”

I blinked rapidly, taken aback by her response. I knew she disliked royalty, but I didn’t know her hatred extended this far.

“If only there’s a recipe for the antidote, I could make it myself,” I said. “You don’t have to—”

“You didn’t make any foolish promises, did you?” Lana interrupted.

“What?”

“You didn’t tell that prince you would save the queen?”

I shook my head. “No, but I’m the only one—”

“Good. Then you are under no obligation to do so. I suggest you remove yourself from this mess. Leave it to the human physicians.”

“They won’t be able to save her,” I said, growing helpless.

“Neither will you,” Lana said firmly. “Manbane antidote does not exist.”

“But—”

“Close the door on your way out.”

I did. My gut was in tangles as I half walked and half ran down the path from Lana’s cottage. If there was really no antidote, Queen Cordelia was doomed to suffer until the manbane killed her. My gut clenched. How could I tell Erasmus? And worst of all, how could I tell Ash?

22

Breakfast came with letters. Lydia wrote us again, rambling about the Season coming to a close and offering to send us better jewelry to wear to the upcoming soirée. I hardly got through half of it before abandoning it for another note from Ash. Tori and Genevieve shot me some looks at the sight of the royal seal, but I let them believe what they wanted.

Amarante,

I’ve scheduled to visit Captain Greenwood this evening at six. It would mean the world if you joined me then.

Yours,

Ash

The two of them were shamelessly giggling when I told them I was going to take another walk.

“I...I’m going to visit Olivia!” I said in an attempt to stop Tori’s guffaws and Genevieve’s sly smiles.

Tori only snorted. “Alright. Say hello to Prince Ash for us.”

Lord Strongfoot burst in before I could defend myself. He looked as if he had just rolled out of bed, waving a newspaper around frantically. “Girls, I just read the most confounding news.”

“What is it, Pa?” Tori asked, wide-eyed.

“They say the queen was poisoned by a witch!”

I gaped as Genevieve gave a soft gasp.

“How awful,” my stepsister said, pressing her fingers to her lips. “But how did they find out? Was anyone arrested?”

Lord Strongfoot shook his head, mussing his already mussed black hair. “They didn’t find a culprit, if that’s what you mean. But the physicians say the poison was unlike anything they’ve seen and concluded that it was witch-made. Who would’ve thought!”

I was frozen in my seat. Everything seemed to be spiraling out of control. There was no manbane antidote, and now this. How did the physicians know the poison was witch-made? Erasmus couldn’t have told them, and the note he sent me had long been destroyed in my damp dress pocket.

And who could have possibly leaked this information when it was supposed to be a private case?

“Just because the poison is witch-made doesn’t mean a witch did it,” Tori reasoned, chewing on a piece of bacon. I could’ve kissed her.

Lord Strongfoot nodded. “You’re right, my girl. We mustn’t forget the Witch Market. That’s why old Greenwood is still imprisoned. But I’ve heard more people are asking for his pardon now that this bit of news is out,” he said. “Can’t blame them. I’d choose a witch to be imprisoned than the captain any day.”

I lowered my head and buttered a piece of toast I didn’t intend to eat. My fondness for the former blacksmith didn’t keep me from feeling offended, but I knew he only wished the best for his benefactor.

At this point, there was only one thing I hoped for—that Captain Greenwood would be able to clear his own name without ruining an innocent witch.

THE PALACE DUNGEONS were rumored to be an intimidating labyrinth of cramped cellars and dank air that sucked all the life out of a prisoner. Those who were proven guilty lost all defiance and those who refuse to admit their crimes did so after mere hours of being locked up. I could see where such rumors originated when Ash took me through the iron wrought gates and down the dark pit.

Though it was only a few hours after midday, there was not a hint of light aside from the torches. Square grates lined the ceiling, but they were too high up and too small to illuminate anything.

“Take one of these to better see the gorgeous scenery,” Ash said, handing me a torch from the wall. The firelight flickered over his grin as he gestured grandly to our squalid surroundings.

I took it, feeling too grim to smile at his jokes. “How long are we allowed in here?”

“Thirty minutes, at most. Though we could get away with an hour. I am a prince, after all.”

We passed a set of hefty wooden doors guarded by two men. They bowed and pushed them open.

“Here comes the not-so-pretty part,” Ash said into my ear.

I swallowed as we stepped over the threshold. Moans and cries of prisoners echoed from the long hall. A draft brought the odor of unwashed bodies and other unpleasant things. I pressed my sleeve to my nose, inching closer to Ash.

“Your