At Lord Dare's words, a dam of emotions broke in Hazel's chest. She ran forward and hugged Frank, still in chains, and he hugged her back. "You're squeezing me," Frank said.

    Hazel had not realized she'd been hugging him so fiercely. I'm scared of losing him, she realized. "I love you," she whispered, relaxing her grip.

     Sir Michael came up to Frank and with a rattle, loosened the chains. Thank you," Frank said.

    Frank's face was lined with tiredness. Hazel wanted to immediately steer him home and let him rest, but Lord Dare cleared his throat. "It has come to my attention that though Frank may be innocent, he knows things about the robbers."

    Hazel opened her mouth to give Lord Dare one bit of the anguish she had felt, but Frank squeezed her hand. She met his eye and steadied her breath. My anger can wait, she thought — especially if controlling it keeps Frank safe. "So I will require him to appear in court again," Lord Dare continued, "as a witness at Octavian's trial."

    The garlic merchant's expression was full of loathing and as he flung a withering look at Hazel before dashing away. "Guards," Lord Dare said. "Arrest him!"

    The guards surged forward, but Octavian already had a head start. They were weighed down by swords, while he was weaponless and able to move more quickly. Still, he was outnumbered and when Sir Michael grasped his arm, the garlic merchant was unable to free himself. Octavian lost his composure, his gaze wild as it darted around the throne room. "The witch lies!" he said.

       "My daughter is no witch!" Lord Dare grumbled.

         Frank and Hazel exchanged glances. Lord Dare had never been so defensive of his daughter; usually he was the first to criticize her. Then again, Octavian's words were attacks on his honor. "No, the witch!" Octavian said, spit flying from the corners of her mouth. "Her!"

    Her jerked his head until his gaze rested on Hazel. She felt herself shrink as the crowd turned to her and childhood memories swamped her. The cruel names, the taunts, the looks kids and adults alike had given her mother and her — they drowned the present from Hazel. She was still underwater, swimming through the memories as Frank raised his voice to defend his wife. "My wife is no witch. I have lived with her for over a month and she has shown no sign of sorcery."

      "Witches are adept at hiding themselves!" Octavian said. "I swear: she's a witch. She framed me!"

       Lord Dare frowned. The crowd broke into murmurs. "You can't actually believe that!" Rachel cried.

       "Everyone knows her mother was a witch!" Octavian cried. "She caused the plague!"

       Hazel snapped. "My mother died in the plague. She sure didn't cause it. If anyone had reason to, it's you — you grew rich as people bought up garlic to try to ward off the pestilence!"

        Instead of responding to her accusation, Octavian deployed one of his favorite tactics: switching subjects. "Why did Hazel survive when her mother did not? It's because she is an even more powerful sorceress. She consorted with the devil!"

     The room grew silent. Octavian had made a heavy accusation. If Hazel was found guilty of witchcraft, she could be executed. "No!" Frank said, drawing himself up to his full height. "I won't believe it. My wife is innocent!"

     "Often, the devil wears the guise of an angel," Octavian retorted.

Sir Michael cleared his throat. "Perhaps, we could have a test."

"A test?" Frank asked, outraged.

"Stick her in the river and see if she floats or drowns," Sir Michael continued.

Hazel felt her stomach churn. If she floated, she'd be deemed guilty, but if she sank, she just might die anyways. "It's too dangerous!" Frank insisted.

"It's a viable solution to our conundrum," Lord Dare said.

"To dunk Hazel in the river would be to harm the innocent," Grandma Zhang said. "She's expecting a child and the rivers are all freezing cold now — if not frozen over."

"She's just pleading the belly!" Octavian said.

"Have a priest examine her," Grandma Zhang suggested, "and he can decide if she's a sorceress."

She spoke in a tone that clearly conveyed she viewed those she was speaking to as idiots. "Alright," Lord Dare decided. "I'll have a clergyman examine her, but not Chiron — he knows her too well. No, I'll have Will examine her when he comes in the spring."

He nodded, satisfied with his decision. "Frank, you may return home with your wife."

"You're not locking her up?" Octavian asked, outraged.

"No one else has complained about her," Lord Dare said, "and I simply don't have enough cells to house everyone you'd accuse."

     If Octavian felt abashed, he didn't show it. As the guards led him away in chains, he strode with his chin held high. "He's putting on airs like a king," Frank whispered into Hazel's ear.

     "He's always put on airs," Hazel muttered.

Frank looked at his wife. "What's the history between you two?"

Hazel checked to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "I'll tell you when we get home."

***

Hazel insisted that Frank eat before they discussed Octavian. He also asked for a bath, so while he dipped crusty bread into a stew, the water was heating at the hearth. Hazel smoothed the fabric of her skirt, trying to calm herself. "Frank, the thing with Octavian stretches back years."

She worried the fabric of her skirt, looking at her lap instead of meeting Frank's gaze. "My mother sold herbal remedies. She would also sometimes make potions for people. My mother never made much and we were very poor. One day, while I was fetching water from the well, I thought how nice it would be to have a gemstone. A diamond appeared within moments. My mother used it to purchase a goat so that we could have our own milk and cheese. The farmer who we sold the diamond to ran over his son with the plow."

"He accused my mother of cursing him," Hazel continued. "The next gem I found was an emerald. We traded it for some goods from Octavian's father — he ran the business back then. He fell down dead two days later. Octavian was fifteen then and he came to our house, vowing revenge. My mother maintained her innocence, but he turned the village against her and my mother against me. From that day on, I was the cursed child."

"I never meant to hurt anyone," Hazel said, her voice breaking.

She felt a hand in her shoulder and looked up, scared at what she might find. Frank's eyes were round with sympathy. "I know that, Hazel. It's not your fault."

"But it is!" Hazel cried. "If I hadn't done that, my mother would never have turned bitter. Octavian would not have harmed you."

"No," Frank said. "You're a good person. Octavian chose to do the wrong thing. He made that decision."

Hazel stared at her husband. He wasn't blaming her like she had for years. What had she done to deserve matrimony with such a man?