A Woman Trapped

The woman's voice that answered Master Noem sounded frail but cheerful.

And surprisingly normal, Celia thought.

"A visitor? How delightful! Do show them in!"

Master Noem pushed the door open so that Celia could duck under its frame. She took a deep breath to gather her courage, then stepped forward quickly before she lost her nerve completely.

She glanced over her shoulder at Master Noem but instead of following her into the room, he simply he closed the door, leaving the two women alone.

A crown princess and a witch.

Celia very slowly turned away from the door, heart hammering in her chest. She could see she was standing in a small, simply furnished chamber. Even in the dim light she could see everything was meticulously organised.

The witch sat on a narrow bed, looking up at Celia with open curiosity. Yet there was nothing particularly sinister looking about her. Nothing no to suggest she was anything besides an unassuming old woman, with a deeply lined but smiling face.

Celia was disarmed at how friendly the woman looked. Had she crossed paths with other witches during her life and not even realised?

It was an alarming thought.

The witch continued to watch her with cloudy eyes. "Hello, my dear."

Celia nodded in greeting, willing her jaw to unclench and her tongue to stop freezing up. Unfortunately, when she finally managed to speak, all she could blurt out was, "I've been told you're a witch."

Celia wanted to strike her own forehead with her palm.

The old woman didn't seem offended by her bluntness, though. She smiled wider. Her grin was jovial, displaying pale gums and only a few remaining teeth. "Yes, so I've been told as well, more than once. But it might be easier if you call me Thea instead."

"Um. A pleasure to meet you, Thea." Celia said timidly. She kept her back pressed against the door, ready to bolt at the slightest provocation.

Thea laughed like a cheeky young girl. "You can stop shrinking away in fear, child. Do you really think these old bones are suddenly going to leap up from here and attack you?"

"No…but…"

"Very well then. Now that we've agreed you're quite safe, perhaps you can sit down and tell me why you're here. You look like the kind of young lady who should be too busy dancing and receiving love letters, to be seeking out an old crone like me."

Celia smiled wryly at that but didn't reply. She didn't want to give away her identity if she could help it. Unsure what to say next or how to even begin a conversation, she let her eyes roam the room with its tidy shelving and little corner table.

Every looked humble but well looked after. And so very…ordinary. She felt almost disappointed.

Thea raised her scanty brows under the young woman's scrutiny. "Is this what you were expecting to see, my dear? Or did you think you'd find a shelf full of dead animal carcasses and a bubbling cauldron in here?"

At that, Celia had to giggle. "No, I just…well, I had no idea what to expect. I've never knowingly met with a witch before. But you don't look very threatening."

Thea threw her head back and roared with laughter. "I'll take your words as a compliment then. And even in the days back when I was young and strong, my purpose was never to hurt anyone. So will you take a seat now?"

Celia inched carefully forward towards the low stool next to the bed, then sat down. She laced her fingers on her lap feeling the old woman's patient gaze on her.

She knew she should just get it over and done with by speaking her mind. She couldn't linger long. There was always the chance, however small, that Tobin would awaken early for once and wonder where his wife had disappeared to.

Her dry mouth couldn't form the words.

"I won't be much help if I don't know your problem." Thea said in a very practical voice. "What is it that troubles you then, my dear? Is it to do with a man or with a baby?"

Celia narrowed her eyes, felling rather insulted the witch was bold enough to try and guess her problem. "What makes you think my visiting you has anything to do with either?"

Thea chuckled. "Because it's the truth, isn't it? When in history have women ever been given the power or permission to worry about anything else? Our lives are confined by the marriage bed and the nursery, because that's where men want our authority to start and finish."

Celia bristled at the depressingly simple summary of a woman's lot. But she couldn't deny Thea's logic, no matter how much it irked her.

She wanted to laugh out loud in her bitterness. Her parents had paid for the finest education on the continent, so that her intellect would be considered the equal of any man's. They'd raised her to be a great monarch one day, for heaven's sake!

So much care and effort, only for Celia to find herself snared in the same trap almost every other woman, whether royal or humble, inevitably found herself stuck in.

Stuck between a man and a baby. How pathetic.

"But you're not caught in the same trap, Thea. You clearly managed to escape." Celia said. She assumed the witch had neither husband nor children, to have ended up living a shadowy existence in the palace's bowels.

The old woman's smile dimmed at the edges, resembling more of a faint grimace. Her cloudy eyes grew hard. "I hardly think our two situations are comparable, do you? And I can promise, I've paid dearly for this freedom granted to me."

"Alright then, you're correct." Celia confessed, raising her hands in acknowledgment. It would be silly of her to pick a quarrel with a witch, no matter how harmless she appeared. "My problem is a baby. Well, the lack of one. I can't seem to conceive and husband is unhappy about it. He insists I must be barren."