“I can tell by the look in your eyes that you know what this is,” the witch’s tone had suddenly gone flat, “I will tell you the story behind this necklace.” Riyah gasped as the witch shimmered and melted into a different version of herself. The streaks in her hair disappeared as well as the wrinkles. Her cheeks grew rosier and her eyes faded from red to brown. Even her robes magically changed into a maid’s uniform.

“I was once a normal girl who only wished to live a normal life with the people I loved. I was a maid at Rembrooke manor long before you or even the current lord was born. I was in love with a stable boy. He was handsome and strong and loved me very much.” She rubbed her thumb over the sapphire which now shone more brilliantly than before.

“He gave me this as a present. Maids weren’t allowed to wear jewelry so he used this to propose to me and I wore it under my uniform. I had never been so content in my life.” She smiled briefly, before her smile turned wistful and then fell altogether.

“A plague broke out. The Rembrooke’s hired the best doctors and herbalists for themselves. But us servants had to make do with our own remedies, which did nothing to treat such a sickness. If you caught the disease then you had best say your goodbyes quickly because you would not last long after. My beloved… He fell sick one day. I knew he didn’t have long. I was desperate. There were whispers of a witch in town. I went to see her and begged her for any way to save him. She said nothing could change the will of God. Not even magic. I didn’t accept that answer so when she wasn’t looking I stole her grimoire. I found a ritual that would allow us to be together, but to enact it I had to make a terrible sacrifice. I did a terrible thing.” The witch’s face crumbled and red tears flowed down her cheeks. Riyah jumped back when a ring of fire erupted around her. Her eyes started to glow as red as the flames.

“But I did it for him and he got healthy again. It was a miracle!” she smiled even though bloody tears still ran down her face, “Once the plague was over the manor had lost over half its staff and more were hired. My beloved’s head was turned to another. I was abandoned. Forgotten. But I had power now. I tried to use magic to turn his eyes back toward me, but the other maid caught on and exposed me. I was forced to flee the manor and I never saw my beloved again.” As soon as her story was finished, the witch’s image melted back to her older self.

“What your beloved did was cruel,” Riyah said quietly, “But please let me go back home.

“You are a clever girl,” the witch mumbled, “But your deeds must have consequences.”

“I did not steal,” Riyah argued. In a swift motion, the witch looped the necklace over Riyah’s head. She leaned down so she could be at her eye level and smiled at her softly.

“Your curse won’t be as bad as the boy’s,” she assured her, “Your curse is to live among the forgotten.” The witch took Riyah’s face into her hands.

“Do not fret too much,” she whispered, “Unlike that boy and unlike me, you will know happiness, friendship, and love. For that is what the winds whisper to me,” Riyah squeezed her eyes shut as the witch pressed a kiss to her brow. When nothing else happened, she opened her eyes. The witch was gone. Nothing but woods surrounded her. She looked behind her to see the boulder. She was on the other side again. But it was growing dark and her cousins were nowhere to be found. She had only been gone for at most an hour. Where did the day go?

Cold wind urged her to start walking. She had to get out of the woods before dark. Luckily she made her way out easily as if led by an unseen force. Rembrooke manor sat backlit by the setting sun. She wondered if Aunt Beatrice would be angry? Surely they sent some of the knights out to search for her when she failed to rejoin Arthur and Oliver. But the house seemed quiet. Riyah slipped in and walked in through the back foyer. There wasn’t anyone there. She removed her shoes and jacket and left them by the door where usually a maid stood to take them from her. She walked toward the dining room where she wondered if they were eating without her. When she walked in she saw servants clearing away dirty dishes.

“Did the family already dine?” Riyah asked. The servants stopped and all stared at her blankly.

“Who are you?” one of the maids asked.

“R-riyah,” she said confused.

“How did you get in here?” a butler demanded.

“I live here,” Riyah said, alarmed. Why were they acting like they didn’t know who she was?

“Beth, could you-” a woman walked into the dining room but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Riyah. It was her aunt. Beatrice, Duchess of Rembrooke, was a beautiful woman. She had soft skin with no signs of wrinkles yet though she was deep into middle-aged. She was plump with a round figure of the filthy rich. She had black hair peppered with white that made her look distinguished rather than old. And her eyes were the same steel grey as Riyah’s. It was the only thing that she inherited from her father, Beatrice’s younger brother. Riyah had never been so happy to see Aunt Beatrice in her life. But she looked at Riyah as if her name was just on the tip of her tongue, but she could not remember it.

“Aunt Beatrice,” Riyah said with a lump in her throat, “It’s me. Riyah. Your niece.” After a moment recognition finally entered her eyes.

“Robert’s child,” she mumbled before shaking her head and putting on a stern expression, “It’s getting late. Why are you in here bothering the servants? Go to your room.” Riyah was shocked that her aunt made no mention of her missing dinner. It was almost as if she had momentarily forgotten Riyah’s existence.

Aunt Beatrice gave Riyah a stern look so Riyah scurried away. She climbed up the back staircase. The main staircase was grand and covered in lush ornate carpet. The banister was carved oak with gold appliques. It intimidated Riyah. Her legs were short and the steps were quite large. She would get so tired that she would climb halfway up and then start to crawl the rest of the way. The back stairs were normally used by servants, but Riyah found them easier to climb. There was hardly any light, but she was never a child who was scared of the dark.

She reached the third floor where her room was. She heard bickering voices coming from the hallway. She turned the corner to see Arthur and Oliver with a book being tugged back and forth between them.

“This is my favorite book,” Arthur whined.

“That’s because it’s the only book you know how to read,” Oliver snapped.

“Nu-uh!”

“Yu-huh!”

Riyah stepped up to them and snatched the book away. They both glared at her.

“Why did you leave me in the woods,” she demanded.

“What are you talking about, Riyah,” Oliver questioned, “We were never in the woods with you.”

“Why would we go anywhere with you,” Arthur demanded. They didn’t seem to be lying. They truly didn’t remember being in the woods with her that afternoon. But at least they seemed to know who she was. Riyah sighed and handed the book over to Oliver. Before Oliver could take it Arthur pushed her aside and snatched the book away from both of them. Riyah landed harshly on the ground.

“Arthur, give it back!” Oliver cried.

“What is with all this noise,” a voice suddenly called. Just past the boys, Julias was walking down the hallway. Julias was young and very handsome, but he was growing to be just as regal and commanding as the duke. All of the men of Rembrooke had sandy blonde hair and amber eyes that shined like fire in the sun. This included the twins. Sometimes Riyah wondered had she looked more like them or even more like her aunt would the twins like her more?

“Arthur won’t give me my book back,” Oliver whined.

“I wasn’t finished reading it,” Arthur hugged the book to himself.

“That’s going to take years,” Oliver sneered. Riyah was astonished. Oliver was usually so gentile.

“Oliver! Arthur! That is enough. The two of you should be getting ready for bed,” Julias lectured. The boys hung their heads.

“Okay brother,” they said in unison. Julias smiled and plucked the book from Arthur’s grasp.

“Go now and I will come read the book to you in a little while,” he told them. Arthur and Oliver smiled up at him and then sprung into action, running past him down the hall and into their room. Riyah still sat on the ground. She looked up at Julias, wondering if he would by chance remember her or if he would fail to recognize her like Aunt Beatrice.

Julias watched the boys go. As they disappeared into their room, his face dropped. Julias always had a gentle smile on his face. A smile that reached his eyes and managed to soften them. Riyah gasped as she saw his face change. His smile dropped and his eyes were suddenly cold and dead. His face was hard and his jaw tightened as his lips settled into a sneer.

Riyah’s soft gasp called Julias’s attention. In the blink of an eye, the softness in Julias’s eyes and his easy smile returned. It was so quick Riyah questioned whether his face had truly changed in the first place.

“I apologize, cousin,” Julias said in a sweeter tone than he used on the boys, “I didn’t see you. Would you like me to escort you to your room? I can read you a story as well.” Riyah didn’t need an escort. They had actually been standing in front of Riyah’s room the entire time. She guessed he didn’t remember where her room was.

“No thank you,” Riyah shook her head. A flash of cruelty entered his eyes, but his smile stayed in place as he stared down at her. He held at out a hand.

“Let me help you up,” he said. Riyah knew not to offend him by rejecting his offer so she put her small hand into his. He lifted her to her feet.

“That’s a pretty bauble you have there,” he said keeping a grip on her hand. Riyah looked down at the necklace that rested against her sternum. She had forgotten that the witch had placed it around her neck. She should have hidden it under her dress. Everyone knew she had no jewels. Riyah tried to pull her hand away, but Julias held it tight.

“Where did you get it,” he asked.

“I found it,” Riyah lied.

“Where?” Julias prompted.

“I don’t remember,” Riyah pulled on her hand harder, but she was no match to an almost fully grown man as a seven-year-old.

“I found a piece of jewelry once,” Julias said. Riyah’s eyes fell on the ring that hung around Julias’s neck.

“So you know which one I’m talking about,” Julias said following her gaze. Riyah tore her eyes from the ring and looked back to his face. His eyes, his smile, his soft features. They were all a lie. How did she not notice until now? His kindness was a mask. So what was his real nature? Riyah was afraid to find out.

“I am very tired and would like to go to bed now,” she squeaked out. Julias squeezed her hand so tight she hissed in pain, all with that sickeningly sweet smile on his face. Just as tears started flooding her eyes he released her hand.

“Good night dear cousin,” he said before turning away from her and disappearing into the boys’ bedroom. The hair on the back of Riyah’s neck stood up and her heart thudded in her chest as the witch’s warning rang through her head. …stay away from that boy. He’s probably grown to become a very good actor. He’d have to be, to hide his cruelty.

Riyah quickly opened the door to her bedroom and dived in. She closed the door behind her wishing she could lock it. She quickly changed into her nightgown and got into bed, burying herself under her covers. She hoped Julias didn’t decide to come in to read her a story. She kept her covers over her head until she became uncomfortable. Her room was pitch black. It was the only bedroom without a window so not even the moon and stars provided light for her at night. She heard footsteps outside her door. She squeezed her eyes closed and waited. The steps stopped outside her door and she heard the latch open. She strained to hear anything else, but it was silent. Then the door closed again. Riyah opened her eyes, but of course, she saw nothing. She couldn’t hear anything over the blood pounding through her head as her heart beat erratically against her rib cage. Was there someone in her room?

Riyah tried to take deep steady breaths, feigning sleep. Soon her breathing really did slow and her heart beat steady. She listened carefully, but there was nothing in her room as far as she could tell. It was probably Julias or a servant checking that she was in bed. That or something really did come into her room but was content with watching her from the darkness. Riyah stayed still for hours, listening to the silence. She heard footsteps walk past her door, but none stopped like the first set. Every once in a while she heard soft voices too low for her to tell what they were saying. Eventually, she heard nothing. Even the servants were probably in bed.

The silence lulled Riyah to sleep. She was no longer able to pay attention to her surroundings. She was unable to sense the shadow that watched over her from the corner of her room.