MAARIT TRANSPORTED HERSELF to her house immediately afterwards. Whispered enchantments permitted her to disappear momentarily into thin air, reappearing three seconds later in the safe confines of her home. She thought it would make for a wonderful dramatic exit; but, truth be told, she had done it out of fear rather than for theatrics.

The shouts could still be heard from within the house. Unfortunately, Maarit did not live far enough from the village's centre.

She choked on each breath she took, as though she was being strangled. Soon, she was aquiver—she trembled from head to toe. She trembled more than she had upon discovering that she was a soothsayer. She trembled more than she had when her parents had abandoned her. She trembled more than she had ever trembled before, and she did not like it. It made her feel weak, though she was far from it.

Her eyes were bone dry and not a single salty tear leaked—what she felt was not sadness, but rather a horrid apprehension. Prior to the public revelation, she had not been nearly this nervous.

In an attempt to ease her nerves, Maarit decided to make herself a cup of tea. She walked over to the cupboard, but found that all of her teacups were used. Crossing over to the windowsill, where she had prudently stacked seven ornate teacups, she cleared her mind. To be able to successfully cast the spells, she had to have a calm and collected mind.

The teacup that she picked up, at the very top of the stack, was azure and gold. The strokes of blue and gold spiralled together harmoniously; tendrils of colour snaked around the handle of the cup like vines.

With a simple flick of her wrist, Maarit levitated all seven of the cups—including the azure and gold one that she had been holding—into the air. Sighing, she sat on the windowsill, watching as the cups were washed. The teacups lined themselves up midair. Soap appeared out of thin air, dousing all of the cups in soap suds without making a mess of anything. Within another thirty seconds, they had been magically washed and dried.

A final flick of the wrist caused six of the teacups to be arranged neatly in the cupboard, while the azure-coloured one floated straight into Maarit's hands.

Maarit no longer struggled to breathe and had calmed down slightly—such was the effect that magic had on her. It always tended to aid Maarit in finding tranquility.

She placed the cup onto the windowsill that she was seated on. The window was large and rectangular, and the windowsill itself was more like a seat. Maarit enjoyed sitting there and staring out peacefully. It gave a scenic view of De Montfort Mountain. There was a pathway leading up to the castle that stood erect at the top of the mountain.

As her eyes passed over the pathway, she was able to see King Theodoracius's horse still making its way up the mountain. Immediately, she turned away so as not to make herself more nervous.

Maarit placed both of her hands just above the teacup and closed her eyes. She whispered an enchantment and only opened her eyes when she felt steam rising from the cup to her hands. It had been filled with steaming oolong tea—it was Maarit's favourite, because she enjoyed the fruity flavour and nutty finish.

Despite the uproar that the rest of the village was in, the young woman was able to relax. When she sipped on the hot orange-brown liquid, the bitter taste that she so enjoyed met her taste buds. This serenity only lasted for about five minutes before her thoughts intruded. She began wondering where Keion and Helios were, and how long it would take for them to arrive.

As though she had predicted their arrival, the two men came bursting through the door, startling her to the point where she spilled hot tea on her arm. Maarit gritted her teeth in pain, setting the wet teacup on the windowsill in front of her.

"For God's sake, must you two always do this?!" she hissed through her teeth, glaring down at the angry red burn on her arm.

They each mumbled apologies.

Maarit wordlessly healed the burn on her arm and refilled her tea using magic. Then, she tucked her knees underneath herself and sighed softly. The last thing she wanted to do was speak of what was going on, but Keion and Helios did not pick up on the queues. They began having a spirited conversation of their own.

"It's practically anarchy out there," Keion said, staring distantly out another window—the one beside the table that Maarit did her soothsaying at.

"That it is," Helios agreed. "I wouldn't be surprised if a horde of people began chasing Theodoracius all the way up De Montfort."

Keion snorted. "I would thoroughly enjoy witnessing that. Although, in all seriousness, I think something like that is likely to happen at this point."

"I wasn't joking when I said it," the younger of the two replied. "The sole thing preventing them from attacking him is the fear of what will be done to them. They don't want to be tortured the way the servant was."

The older one turned his nose up in disgust. "Everything that was done to that boy was inhumane and revolting. To emasculate him..."

Helios shuddered. "I suppose it was only inhumane to us because we knew that he was not the one that killed King Tevenot."

"It would be inhumane regardless."

"Well, he was convicted of high treason."

"Don't act like it was justified," Keion told him, raising his eyebrows. "You couldn't look at the servant without nearly vomiting when he was being executed."

"I didn't mean to say that it was justified. I just meant that this is how the system works. Killing Bonvalet's king is the highest of all high treasons. Besides, it isn't like anyone cares even remotely about a servant. Servants are the lowest in society's hierarchy, which is why it was so easy for Theodoracius to blame the murder on—"

Keion abruptly cut him off. "Brother, please, no more history lessons."

"Sorry."

They were silenced for a moment, during which Maarit falsely surmised that they had exhausted the subject.

"Do you think Theodoracius's motives for killing King Tevenot were that he wanted to be king?" Helios asked his brother.

"Of course," Keion replied. "King Tevenot always said that he would never let Theodoracius take over. Who knows what he meant by that? Perhaps Theodoracius was afraid—"

The more they spoke, the more Maarit became filled with dread. "Would you boys mind terribly if we didn't talk about any of this?" she told them.

Helios and Keion both turned to her, as though they had just remembered she was still there. Neither one answered; instead, they came to sit on the stone floor by the windowsill.

"Would you like some tea?" she offered, quirking an eyebrow upwards and flashing them a forced, tight-lipped smile.

Without waiting for a response, she waved her right hand. The cupboard doors flew open and two more teacups soared out. By the time they reached the hands of Helios and Keion, the cups had been filled with steaming hot tea.

Maarit took one last gulp of oolong tea. She swirled it around in her mouth, then swallowed with a shudder—the final sip was always the most bitter.

"Everything feels so ominous," she said mostly to herself. "I just feel as though something horrible will happen. It's one of those days that feels like tomorrow will never come, you know?"

She was not entirely certain as to why she had spoken at all. Her words sounded hollow and futile, but she had meant them. For once, she could not say what the future held, and she did not want to know—not in the least.