The Curse

It wasn’t easy locking up my daughter in a tower, with only a harp, a bird, and some books for her amusement. Despite what others might think, it wasn’t an easy decision. Oh, I know what the gossip mongers must be discussing in the taverns: That daughter of hers must be crazy! Insanity always did run in the family. Wasn’t there a loony relative on the mother’s side? But they don’t know the truth. They don’t know about the curse.

Sixteen years ago, not long after Sioni’s birth, her father Harry and I were taking a stroll in the woods with our daughter. Harry and I were very happily married, looking forward to raising Sioni and anticipating having more children in the future. We were in a fog of love, blind to everything else but each other.

Suddenly a witch appeared before us. “Give me your precious little daughter.”

Of course, we refused. My husband raised his sword against her. That was when she laid her curse.

“Whosoever cuts a lock of this girl’s hair after she turns sixteen will surely kill her.”

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