“So you turned to the dark arts?”

“I had no choice.” Her mouth twisted. “She told me that if I did not do what she wanted, she’d arrange for the Regent to discover I was a witch. That she’d see me burn. So I did it.” A single tear ran down her face. “It was difficult procuring the… the sacrifices I needed. And difficult disposing of the bodies. I was terrified I’d be caught, and I could feel myself changing. I felt corrupted, as though some insidious substance had got into my veins and was slowly working its way through my body. I can only imagine what they were doing to her mind with the quantities in which she used them.”

“Did she ask you to make any other potions? Perform other spells?” It was a struggle to keep the anticipation from my voice.

“Only the creams.”

My anticipation burned away leaving disappointment in its wake. I’d been so sure there’d be others – spells to somehow prolong Anushka’s life. Was my theory entirely wrong? Clearing my throat, I said, “So you stopped. Told her you wouldn’t make her potions any longer?”

“I tried.” She scrubbed a hand across her red-rimmed eyes. “But she wouldn’t hear of it, and I was afraid to cross her. Nor could I go to Marie, because she would never have forgiven me for abusing my position.”

“You said before that she knew you were a witch?”

Catherine nodded. “Her son, Aiden, was a sickly child. She approached me and brought me into her household as his nurse at great risk to herself, given the Regent’s views on witchcraft. I involved her in my spells to help him, because the bond of blood between parent and child holds an intense amount of power. No one but Marie knew I was a witch until…” She broke off.

“Until?” I leaned forward in anticipation.

“Some four years ago, the masked woman left me a note asking for me to meet her. Of course I went, but instead of her usual request, she asked for something different.”

“What did she want?”

“A love potion.”

I sat up straight in my chair. If this woman was Anushka, why would she ask for that? The creams and such I understood – she couldn’t affect herself with magic, so she needed another witch’s help. But she was more than capable, and by my reckoning, quite practiced at making love potions herself. “To use on whom?”

“The Regent.”

My jaw dropped. The Regent? But that made no sense at all – if Marie was allied with Anushka, why would she allow such a thing?

“I was loath to do it. Marie had never been anything but kind to me and spelling her husband would be the ultimate betrayal, but the woman did not hesitate to remind me how quickly the flames would lick at my toes if it were discovered I was performing black magic.” She sucked in a deep breath. “And I knew that if she used the potion her identity would be revealed to me and she’d no longer be able to blackmail me so easily. But…” she broke off, hands clawing into fists.

“It didn’t work?” I asked.

“Oh, it worked. The Regent fell in love, but not with her.” Her shoulders trembled. “He fell in love with me. Me, whom he had never so much as conversed with in all his life. Me.” She pointed at her face.

Catherine was by no means an unattractive woman, but she was no great beauty and many years past her prime. Which is not to say an affair couldn’t have taken place if the Regent had been charmed by her personality; but if it was as she said and they had never spoken, that seemed unlikely. “What a disaster,” I murmured. “How did it happen? Did you make a mistake in the spell?”

“I’d never made an error before, and I’ve never made one since,” she said, eyes flashing. “Certainly not in this. I’d made dozens of similar potions before and countless after.”

I wanted to point out that everyone was fallible, but keeping my mouth shut seemed the more prudent course. Besides, I didn’t think she had made a mistake – I thought she’d been framed. “So what do you think happened?”

“I don’t know.” She pressed long fingers to her forehead as though the memory pained her. “It was horrible. When I realized what had happened, I tried to flee, but he sent soldiers to bring me back. Professed his love for me in front of countless courtiers, with seemingly no regard for the repercussions. Not only had he fallen for the wrong person, the potion was far more potent than I’d ever intended, and it impacted everything he thought, every action he took.

“Marie, as you would expect, was in a frenzy over it. He cared not for how he was hurting her, and the depression that ensued made her physically ill.” Catherine shook her head. “I cast the spell days before the summer solstice, but the spell held the power of one cast at the very moment of the season’s transition. I thought it would never end. The effects of these potions normally fade over a matter of days, but it lasted for weeks. Everyone suspected what had been done, but of course, it couldn’t be proven. Not that that really mattered – women have been burned for less.”

“Did Marie out you as a witch?”

“No,” she whispered. “Not even then. I told her everything, but how could she possibly forgive me? The spell may have gone awry, but the fact remained that I’d intentionally created a potion for her husband to make him love another woman.”

“What happened next?”

“The Regent’s son, Aiden, was particularly incensed. There was no doubt in his mind that I was a witch and was the cause of his father’s irrational behavior. He hated me for the hurt caused to his mother, and demanded time and time again that I be put to death. And once the potion’s effects finally began to fade, the Regent was of the same mind. But Marie pleaded with him to have mercy on me, and he satisfied himself with taking everything I had and evicting me from his household. Marie spoke with me once after my sentencing, and made me swear to stay far away from anyone she was close to. My life would be forfeit if I ever came back.”