Witches Don't Burn, Silly

Prologue

"Did you hear why Lady Gloriosa ran away?" I press a tear stained cheek to the door. The wives of the Villager Elders were baking a feast in my kitchen. The powerful aroma of their perfumes made my nose sting.

"I heard she had another lover." Penelope said.

"Does that mean the child is illegitimate?" Georgina gasps in horror at the thought. "That could ruin the poor Count Augustus!"

"By the looks of it, he already is ruined." Penelope huffs.

"No, you cackling hens!" Margaret says, exasperated. "She was a witch!" A plate shatters on the floor and I wince, thinking about the expensive china they have just ruined. The women gasp and start to talk over each other. I scrunch my nose as I try to figure out what they are trying to say about my mother.

"She can't be one of those vile creatures!" Georgina snaps. The other women become quiet. I agree with her. My mom was too angelic to be a witch. Fresh tears spring to my eyes as I think about my mother. Why would she leave me without even saying goodbye? Was I not a good enough daughter?

"Oh, but she was!" Margaret says shrilly. "The count saw it himself! That's why she ran away. Hopefully her daughter isn't like her." Rage rushed up to my mouth as tears dripped down my face. My mom was better than any of them will ever be!

"Is that why the girl's hair is such a strange color? She inherited it after that witch!" Georgina says in shock. I grab my hair. The bright silver glittered in the moonlight that came in through the hallway's large windows.

"Mariposa?" I gasp and jump away from the door. The women in the kitchen stop talking immediately. "What are you doing out here?" I looked up into my father's stern eyes. They were red and puffy. Ice blue eyes that were narrow and full of anger stared at me. "I thought the nanny put you to sleep an hour ago."

"I'm sorry, father." I lower my head. Did he think mom was a witch? I tremble as the tears start fresh. Margaret walks out of the kitchen.

"Count Augustus, if you don't mind, I will take Mariposa into the kitchen and make her some herbal tea." She puts a supportive hand on my back. I look up at her and she smiles at me as if she hadn't been insulting my mother and calling her a vile creature just moments ago.

"Whatever." My father grumbled while rubbing his temple like I had caused him a headache. He looked down at me once more and I froze. A look that the people dragged to the crazy house flashed before me in my father's eyes. I started to tremble and cry all over again.

"Come on dear." Margaret ushered me into the kitchen and the other old women cooed and showered me with attention and assistance. It did nothing, though, to erase that look my father had engraved into my mind.

Today, I didn't just lose my mother. I lost my father too.