The Witch Opal

 "Opal," Delaney gasped, a hand flying to her chest to cover her racing heart, "You scared me to death."

 "You aren't dead," the little witch wheezed, "You couldn't talk if you were dead."

 "Yes, of course," Delaney sighed, getting to her feet, "Thank you for meeting me."

 "It was Lord Adair's rule. I have to come when I see the light in the window. You put the light in the window."

 "Yes," Delaney nodded, "I have something I'd like you to do for me."

 The little woman covered in furs looked intrigued. She held fast to her staff and Delaney could hear her wheezing breaths.

 "The Queen gets a potion from a witch at the castle that's supposed to help her become pregnant. She had the witch there make a bottle for me as well but now I'm nearly out. Do you think you could make me more of it?"

 "Of course," the witch's head bobbed up and down, "Are you and Lord Adair not able to get pregnant?"