Five days have passed since the incident, but Anne’s condition had yet to improve. She bled continuously, and two days ago, she caught a terrible fever. Multiple physicians and doctors came to Blytherock Castle, but each of them left after saying that there was nothing that they could do. 

Edmund stood on the verandah, watching as the royal physician he had invited enter his carriage and took off. If even he could not cure Anne, then who can? He turned around and saw Anne fast asleep on the bed, and the large bed made her look so small, so vulnerable. Her skin felt so cold, and she was as pale as a sheet of paper.

         “Annie, what should I do? I have already done what I could, but you’re still unwell. Please Annie, tell me what I need to do,” he spoke, but Anne did not respond. She was barely conscious for the past few days, and today, she had not awaken at all.

Suddenly there was a loud knock on the door, and the head of Edmund’s soldiers, Sir Giles Burgess stormed in with an ecstatic look on his face. “Your Grace, we’ve found Elheim Castle!” he said, but upon seeing the Duke glaring at him for bursting into the room, he immediately quieted down.

          “What should we do now, Your Grace?” Giles asked in a lower tone, careful not to disturb the ailing Duchess.

Edmund stood up from the bedside and walked toward Giles.
              “I cannot leave at the moment. My wife’s condition is worsening day by day, and I don’t know what to do anymore,” he sighed.

          "I assume that old man Pattesley was unable to do anything, then?” the soldier asked, referring to the royal physician.

Edmund shook his head gravely. “He said that if Anne did not contract the fever, he might still be able to cure her. But now, it is almost impossible.”

Giles’s brown eyes narrowed in suspicion, and he said, “Well, he is close to the King. A loss on your behalf would be a gain for the King. But Your Grace, didn’t you once mention that your Lady Mother was good with medicine? Why don’t we go and rescue her now, and have her treat the Duchess? Besides, wouldn’t she know more about the Duchess’s sickness than old man Pattesley? It’s not as if he ever had miscarriage before.”

Edmund turned around and glanced at Anne. He had done everything that he could, and this was his last choice.         

                    “Yes... Yes, that will help,” he said, breathing heavily. He rushed to Anne and pressed a soft kiss on her cheek, whispering in her ear, “Annie, please wait for me to come back with help. Wait for me, love.”

♤

In the cold, unheated room of the dilapidated castle, Amaranthis waited. She had not eaten for days, but she would survive. Amaranthis was no ordinary person, after all. The condition she was in was far from pleasant, but she was smiling.

          “What are you smiling at, witch?” a rough, scratchy voice shouted at her. A tall and stocky middle-aged man walked towards her, and Amaranthis rolled her eyes in annoyance.

          “I met my daughter-in-law. Such a beautiful girl, albeit rather temperamental,” she sighed.

The man, Sir Humphrie Colkins, who was commissioned by the King to keep the Dowager Princess Consort locked in Elheim Castle, let out a slow, irritating laugh. “What daughter-in-law? Your son is long dead! He, your husband and your daughter are all in their graves!”

Amaranthis was forty-two years old that summer, yet she still had the appearance of a woman in her twenties. Humphrie noted that she looked the exact same as the day he first brought her here, not that he was complaining though. However, he loathed the fact that she refused all his advances, even after he offered to take her out of that damned place.

He was certain that Amaranthis used witchcraft to maintain her beauty so that she could seduce him, but she kept playing hard to get. Even so, wasn’t fifteen years rather too long? He lied to her about Edmund’s passing, and told her that Anna-Claudia was certainly dead even though no body was found, all to break her spirit and draw her towards him. But Amaranthis was strong, and not once did she waver from his words. 

Humphrie was both angered and frustrated at this point. Amaranthis coincidentally meeting with Duchess Anne de Chauvelot was not entirely impossible, due to the fact that the Duke of Cindertrappe decided to reside in Blytherock Castle, which was not far away from here. He tried to negotiate with the King to change their location, but the old tyrant was too intoxicated to hear what he had to say.
But Amaranthis was lucky indeed! She was locked inside that castle for years, and on the very day that she managed to escape, she met with her daughter-in-law, and now she knows that Edmund is still alive.

He knew that Amaranthis would become more defiant in the future, and that the Duke would search for his mother, now that he knows where she was living at all this time. But Humphrie has waited for far too long.

He had a faithful wife at home, but she was too plain and drab for him. Sweet-faced at most, she was nothing when compared to the Dowager Princess. Not a single grey hair streaked through Amaranthis’s silky red locks, and not a single wrinkle marred her golden skin. At the same time, his wife had succumbed to time, and she brought no pleasure to him, only frustration. The Crown Prince, a man long dead, had a ridiculously beautiful wife still loyal for him, while he could only watch and drool like a dog. 

          “I’ve waited for too long,” he declared as he tightened the rope that bound Amaranthis’s hands together. “Now, you will serve me!”

He hungrily stripped off his clothes, his body becoming hot as the devil’s whispers take over his mind and soul, and his rationality was replaced with lust. The woman in front of him was someone’s wife and mother, but Humphrie did not care. All he cared about was himself and fulfilling his animalistic, carnal cravings. He lifted her skirt, eager to please himself, but then he heard her say, “My son has arrived.”

Amaranthis smiled serenely as she looked at him, completely unfazed by his actions. Her smile irritated him, and fear began to pool inside his stomach as he realised that Edmund would probably kill him anyway. Humphrie chuckled sardonically, much to Amaranthis’s shock.

        “Then, my last action will be to pleasure you, Your Highness,” he laughed as he forced herself on her, but before he could go far, the door was kicked open.

       Amaranthis laughed in delight as she watched Humphrie inch away from her in fear, lowering his head in front of her son like a frightened dog.

          “Mama!” she heard Edmund say, and in an instant, she was taken back to fifteen years in the past. At four years old, Edmund had round, ruddy cheeks and curly black locks, with pale green eyes that were so large and round that they looked like buckeyes. But the fully grown man standing at the door bore little resemblance to the boy, although his hair remained the same.

          “Mama!” Edmund repeated, and Amaranthis felt her eyes water with tears of joy. Her son was safe and alive, not dead from the plague like Humphrie had said, and now he had come for her.

          “Ned?” she murmured as he came close to her, his eyes too filled with tears. 

         “Mama, I’m sorry that I got here so late. I’ve been looking for you for so long, but I couldn’t find you,” Edmund sobbed into her lap like a little child who had done something wrong. One of Edmund’s subordinates, a man with light brown hair and deep brown eyes went to slash the ropes that bound her, freeing her hands. Amaranthis stroked his hair gently, pulling him closer to her. He was no longer her little Ned, and those fifteen years they spend apart would never return, but now they had all the time in the world.

         “You have grown so well,” she said proudly. “Look at these fat cheeks of yours! You must’ve eaten very well!”

Edmund laughed in between in sobs, his heart filled with so much emotion that he did not know what to do anymore. 
                      “Mama, I’ve brought Claudie back home. Later, I will take you to see her,” he said, hoping that it would please his mother.

Amaranthis nodded, and she remarked light-heartedly, “I’d like to see my daughter-in-law and my grandchild too, Ned!”

In an instant, Edmund froze. “Mama, Annie lost the child, and now she wouldn’t stop bleeding. All the doctors said that it is certain that she would die,” he cried.

Amaranthis shook her head indignantly as she stood up in a haste. "Bring me to her, Ned. I would never let my daughter-in-law die on my watch,” she declared.

Humphrie watched blankly as Amaranthis walked away with her son, and a soldier went to her, asking about what to do with Elheim Castle.

         “Raze it to the grounds,” she said simply, not looking back even once.

Once arriving at Blytherock Castle, the first thing that Edmund noticed were the gloomy, fearful expressions of his servants. Piers was wiping his sweat away constantly, and not once did his beady black eyes meet with the Duke’s. 

         “How is the Duchess?” he asked urgently.

         “She began to convulse last night, Your Grace. She bled a lot too, so we tried to give her the blood replenishing medicine, but she vomited it out,” Piers answered grimly. The housekeeper had more to say, but Edmund did not care about that now. He raced up the stairs, his mother following close behind.

He burst through the bedroom door and rushed towards Anne’s sleeping figure and threw away the heavy blanket, revealing the fresh blood that soaked through her nightgown. At the corners of her lips, he could see the traces of the brown broth, but he doubted that any of it went down her throat.

         “It reeks of death!” Amaranthis exclaimed. “Open all the windows and air out the room!”

The maids looked at her in confusion and were unsure of whether they should comply or not. Not only have they never seen her before, she was also dressed like a prisoner.

        “Do as she says,” Edmund spoke, and the maids got to work in a heartbeat. 

However, even after all the windows were opened and fresh air flowed in, Amaranthis was still dissatisfied. “The stench is still there!”

        “It is probably blood that you’re smelling, Madame,” a maid spoke up, but Amaranthis shook her head.

        “I know what blood smells like, silly,” she said. Amaranthis skimmed through the room, searching for the source of the smell. Finally, she stopped at Anne’s bedside, and she lifted the girl’s hand close to her nose.

        “It’s coming from her,” she declared grimly. “But it is not the scent of someone who shall die soon. It is the smell of someone who has already died.”

Amaranthis leaned over and laid her head on Anne’s heartbeat, frowning deeply. “Her heart still beats, but it is cold, as if it were frozen.”

This was a rare occurrence, and she had never seen this ever happen before. But when she saw the grim expression on her son’s face, she instantly knew that Edmund had something to do with it.

        “Ned, is there something you’re not telling me?” she said to him. "What have you done, Ned ?"

 Edmund turned around and dismissed all the maids before returning to his mother and said, “Annie has died before, and I brought her back to life.”

Amaranthis looked at Anne’s unconscious form with both shock and sympathy. “You’re not supposed to do that, Ned... Bringing a dead person back to life goes against the laws of nature.”

        “I love her far too much, Mama. I cannot bear to see her die, and before this, she died because of me. I saw it as my responsibility to revive her.”

        “No, you don’t understand Ned! She has died once, and death has left its mark on her. But you brought her back, breaking the rules of the afterlife. Death will always find a way to take her back for good. Death will always follow her,” Amaranthis said exasperatedly.

        Edmund had expected her to say that but hearing it with his own ears made his chest hurt even more. “Isn’t there a way to stop it, Mama?” he asked desperately.

Amaranthis let out a heavy sigh as she saw her son’s mortified face, and she knew that it must be done. “There is a way. But this method goes against the teachings of your faith, and those priests at the cordesane might even say that this is the devil’s practice. Is that alright with you?

       “Anything, Mama,” Edmund insisted. He had made countless offerings at the nearest parish to plead for Anne’s life, but it proved to be useless. If the gods above could not save her, then he would have to rely on his mother’s spells and charms.

Amaranthis nodded, and she said, “Get me a bowl, a dagger, eleven blades of sweetgrass, and a cup of milk. Make haste too, she doesn’t have much time left.” She was right, as not a minute later, Anne began to jerk in her sleep, her limbs flailing around her wildly as her breath became hoarse and scratchy. Edmund pinned Anne’s body down on the bed with his own, afraid that she would accidentally hurt herself.

       “Mama, she’s burning hot!” he cried out in fear as he held Anne tightly, watching as her pale lips slowly turn dark blue. “Help her Mama, I beg you !"

At that exact moment, the maid returned with the items that Amaranthis asked for, and without wasting a moment, the shaman picked up the bowl and dagger. “Give me your hand,” she spoke, and Edmund willingly held his hand out.

Using the dagger, Amaranthis carved a deep indent in Edmund’s hand, drawing up thick red blood, and it dripped down into the wooden bowl. “What is that for, Mama?” 

       “The blood of a living person will confuse Death, and it will no longer come for her, for now at least. And your life force is especially strong, so the effects will last much longer."

Amaranthis took the cup of milk and poured some of the blood into it, turning the pristine white milk into a garish red hue. 
                “Here, make her drink this,” she ordered while passing the cup to Edmund. Carefully, he propped her body up and pried her mouth open, pouring the milk and blood mixture down her throat, making sure that not a single drop was wasted.

       “Now, lay her down.” Edmund did as his mother ordered, and watched as she dipped the fresh sweetgrass, which had been snipped from the garden moments ago, into the bowl of blood. As she removed it from the bowl, droplets of blood splattered all over the white sheets, making the room look like a murder scene. Amaranthis raised the bundle of grass over Anne’s body, and she used it like a whip, hitting all parts of her body. Once for her head, one for each side of her shoulders, five times at the stomach, and three times at each of her feet.

Once Amaranthis was done performing the ritual, Anne was completely soaked in blood, but Edmund could see that her lips were starting to turn pink again. He reached for her hand, feeling her steadying pulse, and he said joyfully, “Mama, her fever has gone away!”

        “That means that it worked,” Amaranthis replied, smiling thinly. “The ritual is done, so you can clean her up.” She was happy to be able to help her daughter-in-law, but she also knew that Death was waiting for Anne for too long. Everything that is done will have its own consequences, and someone else might have to pay for another’s mistakes.

        “Ned,” she called out softly, and Edmund turned around to face her, subconsciously putting down the cloth that he used to wipe Anne’s face clean. “Someone in your household will pass soon. It would be nice if you could help their family out, give a bit of money and bread...”

       “Why do you say that?” Edmund asked in confusion. 

       “I managed to steer Death away from Anne for now, but it has waited for too long, and it will take another’s life to compensate. Another person will die in Anne’s place, Ned. It can be anyone, someone’s mother, or someone’s son. They will weep more than you did when you saw Anne’s ill state. You should help them out, don’t you think?”

Edmund listened to his mother silently, not uttering a single word. He glanced at Anne, fast asleep in his arms, completely oblivious of what is to come.

        “I will, Mama.”

That night, when he heard the deafening screams echoing from the main hall, he knew that his mother’s words had indeed come true.

Hi! If you liked this story, try checking out my other story, which is set in the early 1700s, Catarina and The Prince ! And please vote and comment, it means a lot to me 🥰