Fin stared back at the men who regarded him with a wide range of emotions. Some were quizzical, some barely able to hide their disgust or concern, others were merely surprised. Physician Durand’s announcement wasn’t met with an outcry or with the immediate demand for Katelyn’s execution at the stake, however. So Fin straightened his back and stepped forward, already trying to prepare what he would say in his mind.
“Good day, my lords.” He bowed slightly and did his best to keep his face a mask of indifference.
“Physician Durand, surely you jest,” Baron Gauva barked while ignoring Fin’s greeting. “This is a humorous prank His Majesty is playing on us all, surely.”
“Now, now, Baron. Surely you all are aware witches have existed for quite some time, and that condemning their kind is illegal.” The slight emphasis Physician Durand placed on the final word had the baron clamping his mouth shut, but his cheeks betrayed his anger.
“If there are no questions, I should be heading back to my duties where—” Fin began stiffly. He was hoping that the men could fight it out amongst themselves and that he might slip away unscathed.
“Hold it right there! I cannot let this matter rest! Mr. Ash— Whatever it was, your mother is a properly certified physician?” Earl Laurent scoffed doubtfully.
“My mother apprenticed under Physician Gandly when I was ten years old. She studied under him for the required five years. After which, she proceeded to work as a partner with him for another year before taking requests throughout the city and the islands south of Rollom,” Fin explained without any inflection of emotion in his tone. “She went on to treat the magisters of the city as well as some of the lower-ranking nobility.”
The men around the table shifted uncomfortably while casting uncertain glances around themselves.
“Is there someone in the city of Rollom who could vouch for her background?” It was Earl Danen who put the question to him. The man’s voice was commanding, but non-accusatory.
“I will be happy to provide a list of her former patients, though you already have one of them here.”
Everyone sat up straighter with small frowns creasing their faces.
“Our foreign visitor, Lord Ryu, was a patient of my mother’s for two years before he was well enough to return home to Zinfera.”
The lords immediately began whispering amongst themselves, while Fin still remained resolute in his avoidance of any form of eye contact.
“How is it none of you are asking about the bloody fact that Physician Durand just informed us all that she is a witch?!” A man Fin had never seen before exploded out of his seat. He was in his mid- to late forties and wore a brown velour vest with a rich, deep red tunic.
“Yes, while we know of witches, it is that we do not know much about them. Your mother is a healer, but I thought witches could only work with the elements,” a lord who spoke with a guttural voice pointed out.
“Witches in more recent years are experiencing mutated abilities to better help people,” Fin explained quickly knowing that this was going to make things even more difficult.
“What sort of mutated abilities?” Baron Gauva questioned through narrowed eyes.
“The Goddess created witches to act as agents on her behalf to remain connected with nature in its truest forms. However, humanity has grown more complicated, and so our abilities have as well. My mother’s abilities are linked with healing, which is an Earth element at its core—think of the new growth and recovery in the springtime. Pertaining to the queen, my mother is trying to help Her Majesty heal so that her physical being isn’t overwhelmed.”
“That didn’t answer my question!” The baron slapped his palm down on the table. “I asked what sort of mutated abilities?”
Fin’s teeth immediately set themselves on edge. He had tried to avoid facing that particular question for a reason.
“There are all kinds. It is tough to say exactly what the abilities are when it is a newer development. There was one witch who could fashion the most durable weapons you’ve ever seen. In fact, he was a resident of Austice until he died—some of you have probably heard about the work of Theodore Phendor.”
The whispers that exploded at that announcement were louder than before.
“You mean to tell us the famed blacksmith and craftsman of Daxaria was a witch?!” This time it was Captain Antonio who called out stunned.
“Yes. Another mutated witch had the ability to talk to and understand all animals.”
“So what’s to stop this ‘healer witch’ taking over the queen’s mind?” The outburst came from Earl Laurent who looked to his fellow nobility.
The room fell deathly quiet.
“Witches do not possess the magic to dominate anyone’s mind or will in any way.” Fin’s firmness in tone made at least half of the council visibly relax, while the other half remained unconvinced.
“Mr. Ashowan is correct,” Mage Lee suddenly interjected and stood. He leaned his gnarled hands on the table’s surface and stared levelly at each man before him. “While I do not count myself as informed about witches as Mr. Ashowan, I can say that it has been well documented and proven that witches can never invade someone’s own mind. It is not the will of our Gods.”
Fin’s gratitude for the man was so overwhelming he thought he might launch himself across the table and hug him.
“Mage Lee, were you aware of Katelyn Ashowan being a witch?” Earl Laurent asked directly after a beat of silence in the room.
“I was. However, as it did not interfere with Mrs. Ashowan’s work or affect the royal family greatly, I saw no reason for the private details to be revealed. With the development in the queen’s condition, however, things have changed.”
“You yourself have just stated that you aren’t as well versed on the capabilities of witches. What if this is the beginning of a hostile takeover from the Coven of Wittica? What if they are working with Troivack to bring about our demise?” Baron Gauva exclaimed, making Fin’s right eye twitch.
“I don’t know details pertaining to witches; however, I do know that it is not possible for them to—”
“What if you’re bewitched right now!” Baron Gauva brandished a finger at the mage that earned him a sharp look.
“Baron, that is exactly the panicked line of thinking that led to the inhumane hunting and executing of witches in our history. You cannot create a reality that is separate from this one and persecute beings that have not done any harm.” Everyone who didn’t know the mage thought he sounded calm and in control. To Fin, Captain Antonio, Lord Fuks, and Mr. Howard, however, they all knew that the elder was cursing out the nobility fiercely in his mind.
“Not done any harm?! What about Hilda! That witch who flooded our city and endangered everyone!” Lord Gauva stood angrily.
“Then what about King Matthias? Does he represent all of mankind?” Fin suddenly burst out, unable to stop himself.
Every head snapped around to stare at him, but the redhead was too enraged to care.
“You judge all witches based off one misdeed? There are kings who have led armies that slaughtered thousands. In fact, it was only fifty years ago that witches stopped being burned at the stakes!”
Lord Gauva’s expression turned murderous. “You dare talk back to me? You are nothing but a cook.”
“For this meeting I was assigned by His Majesty to be a representative of witches, and as such will speak my piece.” Fin’s eyes flashed, as his fingernails dug into his palms.
The baron straightened and clasped his hands behind his back, meeting the redhead’s ire head-on.
“Rafael, there are two knowledgeable people in this room explaining about witches and their craft, yet you seem determined to shout over them. Is it possible you draw issue with Katelyn Ashowan’s economic status more so than her ‘witch’ status?” Lord Fuks interjected, his eyebrow arched mirthfully.
“Not at all—though it is peculiar how they are mere peasants and yet hold such power. Is that not ludicrous?”
“Believe it or not, witches are not well received by some, so they try to keep a low profile,” Fin interjected coolly.
The baron, clearly dissatisfied with the way the conversation was turning, directed his attention once again to the cook. “What about you, hm? Are you a witch? Who are you to say that you are the best one for answering our questions?”
“How can he be a witch? He’s a man!” Earl Laurent blustered with a wry chuckle.
“He just said our famous weapons maker Theodore Phendor was a witch. This means he could be one too!” Baron Gauva broke out desperately.
An uneasiness settled over the room, and no one dared say a word as Fin locked eyes with the baron who looked ready to sentence him to a nice pile of dry kindling with a waiting torch.
A strange calm settled in the redhead’s chest as he stared at the noble before him. Fin couldn’t explain why, but it was suddenly very clear to him that he didn’t want to lie or hide anymore. Not when there had been so many accepting people thus far. Not when he had made friends and fallen in love with people who cared very little about the fact that he was a witch.
Straightening his shoulders, and suddenly appearing incredibly imposing, Fin answered Baron Gauva’s question.
“Yes, I am a witch. A house witch, actually.”
Everyone froze. Uncertain of how to respond.
Even Baron Gauva who had first fired the accusation looked stunned. Evidently his question had been intended to discredit Fin rather than oust him.
“Can you perhaps tell us what a house witch does?” Captain Antonio requested softly, his blue eye warm with encouragement.
“Well, I think many of you have enjoyed my cooking at least once by now.”
A small flutter of chuckles ran through the men, and this reaction alone emboldened Fin. They weren’t persecuting him; they weren’t shouting at him …
“My abilities center around creating a harmonious, comfortable home. A safe place with good food, and where its occupants feel cared for.”
“Those are feelings, do you mean to tell me you can control emotions?” Baron Gauva sneered.
Captain Antonio didn’t rise from his feet, but when the baron locked eyes with him, he cowered all the same. It was obvious on the military leader’s face that he was a hairsbreadth away from punching the lord.
“No. I do not control people’s emotions,” Fin replied tersely.
“How about a demonstration!” Lord Fuks clapped his hands together and smiled jubilantly.
“Mr. Ashowan is not a court jester. You cannot demand that he perform for our entertainment.” Captain Antonio snapped irritably at the chief of military who didn’t appear the slightest bit chastened.
Fin sighed. He didn’t like being a show pony any more than the next fellow, but even he understood how it might help the nobles fear him less.
Turning his attention to Mr. Howard, who was scribbling away on a piece of parchment for the king to review later, Fin held out his hand.
“Might I please have your vest?”
The assistant looked up abruptly. He clearly hadn’t intended on being an active participant in the whole ordeal and was hoping to get away with his report unscathed.
Slowly, the man removed the article of clothing and handed it to Fin who held it up for all the men to see.
Fin then released it, only instead of falling to the ground, it hung suspended in the air.
There were a couple gasps and exclamations around the table, and then the vest proceeded to fold itself perfectly. It then floated down gently to the table and lay before the nobles awaiting judgment.
“You’re right, Lord Gauva. Mr. Ashowan will have our linens pressed to a deathly stiffness. Whatever shall I do without a crease in my trousers?” One of the lords chuckled, and soon a few more had joined in.
“So you … can fold laundry with your ability?” Mage Lee asked pointedly. It was obvious he was trying not to laugh. He knew Fin was showing the least-intimidating side of his magic.
“I can.” Fin then turned his attention to the glass pitcher of water that sat dripping with condensation on the table’s surface and magically raised it. It floated around to each man’s goblet, refilling each one before drifting harmlessly back to the middle of the table, and setting itself down.
“However will we overcome such evil?” Lord Fuks clutched his chest, and this time the entire room burst out laughing. Everyone except for Baron Gauva, who was turning purple in the forehead and was staring at the cook with deadly resolve.
The noblemen filed out of the council room all fanning themselves from the summer heat and talking excitedly. The meeting had proven effective in bringing the fear of witches down, while also distracting everyone for the briefest of moments from their worry for their queen.
Fin was one of the last people out of the room, his hands shoved in his pockets, and his shoulders slightly hunched—he was exhausted.
He had not once ever thought he would be publicly announcing what he was. He hoped that his doing so didn’t hinder any more of Annika’s plans for their relationship. Though she still hadn’t told him about any of her plans in detail …
There always seemed to be some new crisis or work matter, or they were too busy—
“Fin? Why were you in that meeting?”
The redhead snapped out of his thoughts and looked up to see Sir Harris, who stood leaning against one of the stone pillars near the council room.
“Oh … I had to answer a few questions,” he replied vaguely. He wasn’t really in the mood to fully explain everything. “What’re you doing here?”
“When I heard about the emergency meeting, I wondered if it was about the dukedom, and I got antsy. Sorry …” The knight looked sheepish as he gave a guilty smile.
Fin frowned in confusion until he remembered that Sir Harris was supposed to be working in the kitchen.
He waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. Things are a little chaotic today anyway.”
“I’m surprised to see you back so soon, to be honest. I thought you’d be gone until the end of the week,” Sir Harris observed while stepping alongside Fin as he moved.
“I don’t trust you all with my kitchen unsupervised,” Fin remarked idly.
“Hey, it wasn’t that bad except for … er. Well …”
The cook stopped and turned slowly to face the knight.
“Except for what, Harris?”
“Isn’t it nice weather for a run? I think I’m going to—” The soon-to-be duke tore off down the hallway, leaving Fin to chase him.
“HARRIS! WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY KITCHEN?!”