The king listened attentively as I told him about meeting the witch in the woods over sixteen years ago, and how she tried to take our baby daughter away from us, placing a curse on her when we refused.

He held his chin in his hands, his blue eyes, so like his son’s, watching me carefully. I’d heard rumors of the king’s impatience, even his cruelty, before, and I realized now they were unfounded. The man seated on the throne had power even in his little finger, and he knew it, but he was still fair and decent. I decided to trust him.

When I finished my tale, ending with my disastrous decision to imprison Sioni in the tower, the king cleared his throat.

“I’ve heard tell of this witch before. It can be no other: Malvolia. She has oft haunted the woods of Vale. Some say she is a baby-snatcher. We will canvass the woods and the mountains. We will find your daughter. Have faith, Mrs. von Teschen.”

I ran up and threw myself at the king’s feet. “Bless you, your majesty! I am your eternal servant. Bless you.”