No. Frickin. Way. The room is massive, bathed in sunlight from the large windows. A four-poster double bed takes centre stage, surrounded by a vanity unit, desk, shelves, sofa with a small coffee table, and a gigantic wardrobe filled with clothes. It even has its own bathroom. It's like stepping into a five-star hotel compared to my room at home. And the one at college is even worse.

"I hope you find your bedchamber satisfactory," Leonora stated before exiting, leaving me to rest while she changed clothes. Well, she certainly wasn't wrong in calling it a "bedchamber". It was, indeed, an over-the-top bedroom fit for royalty! Not that I'm complaining.

After indulging in a much-needed bath and changing into jeans and a thick sweater, I find Leonora waiting for me. She looks effortlessly elegant in a simple flared dress of muted pink, offset by a white trench coat.

"Ready to go?" she asks, and I nod enthusiastically.

"Wait," Nyx interjects, appearing at our side. "I'm coming too." His eyes meet Leonora's, challenging her.

"Are you sure you're feeling well enough?" Leonora questions, concern lacing her voice. But Nyx stands his ground, and eventually, she relents.

We make our way through countless rooms and corridors before finally stepping outside what Nyx called the Spring Palace. It's breathtaking; spiky towers and stained-glass windows dominate the structure while hanging plants and vines create an otherworldly atmosphere. White and pink flowers bloom on honey-coloured walls, and I spot little birds darting between balconies. On the exterior of the building, a colourful stained-glass window depicting a vibrant cherry tree in full bloom catches the eye. It's so beautiful that it looks like it was taken straight out of a fairytale.

"Wow," I breathe, unable to tear my gaze away from the palace. Nyx chuckles softly.

"Come on," Leonora says, leading us down a winding path. "Let's show you Witchwood."

As we walk, I take in the splendour around us; the vibrant colours, the whimsical architecture, and the air of magic that seems to hang over everything. My heart races with excitement; this place feels like home, even though I've only just arrived.

The garden before me is a vision of beauty. Spirals and concentric circles of brightly-coloured flowers stretch out in every direction, hedges trimmed into the shapes of animals stand guard around fountains, and swans glide gracefully across a small lake spanned by a wooden bridge. Cherry trees are scattered throughout, their blossoms painting the landscape with shades of pink and white.

Leonora turns to me, her smile warm and inviting. "The fastest way to travel in Witchwood is by tree," she says, motioning for me to follow her towards the nearest cherry tree. I watch, fascinated, as she seems to melt into the trunk, her hand reaching out towards me. Hesitating for just a moment, I take her hand, once again feeling that strange connection to the tree, as if it's an extension of my own body. I step forward, then take another step, and suddenly find myself emerging from another cherry tree, this one overlooking a large, bustling marketplace.

So this is Witchwood. I can hardly believe my eyes as I take in the scene around me. The square is positively teeming with life! Witches swarm from stall to stall, perusing old books, handmade quilts, and admiring pumpkins of all sizes and colours. In the centre of the square stands the enormous cherry tree through which we arrived, and nearby, a gilded statue of a woman piques my interest.

I take a few steps towards Leonora, who's standing in front of some food and trinket stalls. But before I can speak up, something else captures my interest. I approach a nearby stall piled high with freshly baked "witch's bread" as the sign reads, the sweet scent wafting through the air. The round loaves boast a golden yellow crumb and a generous dusting of sugar on top – they look delicious. Nearby, another stand displays an array of bracelets and necklaces, many adorned with the symbol of the Triskelion or featuring intricate floral motifs.

A witch, accompanied by her squirrel familiar in his animal form, haggles animatedly with the vendor over a pair of leaf-shaped earrings. She then asks for a matching necklace for her squirrel, who promptly refuses to wear it, arguing that it's way too cheesy. I can't help but glance at Nyx – now fully recovered and looking incredibly handsome in his sleek black clothes – and we exchange smirks as I feel a blush creeping up my cheeks. In the end, the witch gives up and disappears into the bustling crowd, her squirrel chattering indignantly on her shoulder.

"This place is amazing," I say, my eyes wide with wonder as I take in the lively scene around me. Witches and their familiars dart from one place to another, engaged in animated conversations, gossip, or simply enjoying each other's company. I see foxes, magpies, hedgehogs, rabbits, and even owls, some in their animal forms and others in elegant human attire complete with exquisite, detailed animal masks.

The witches themselves wear a fascinating mix of vintage and contemporary clothing – long woollen coats, thick dresses, sweaters, and scarves to ward off the chill in the air. Their outfits are as varied as the people themselves, and I can't help but feel a sense of awe at the diversity and richness of life here in Witchwood.

Closing my eyes, I allow myself to fully absorb the atmosphere of the square. The buzz of conversation and soft notes of flute music fill the air, creating a sense of harmony and unity amongst the diverse witches and their familiars. I take a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of flowers that mingles with the comforting aroma of burning wood. My heart swells with excitement and awe as I think to myself that I would love to live in a place like this.

Opening my eyes again, I find Leonora watching me with an amused smile. "Welcome to Witchwood," she says proudly. "This is the Four Seasons Square, the centre of our city. From here, you can reach any of the four Courts."

"I didn't think it'd be this big," I admit, still taking in the bustling scene before me. "And so full of people!"

"The population has grown a lot in recent decades," Leonora explains.

Unable to contain my curiosity, I glance at the golden statue dominating the square. A beautiful woman, her hair loose and her dress torn, holds a sword aloft with one hand while clutching the neck of a small, winged, insect-like creature with the other. Beneath her foot, she crushes the head of something resembling a beast or demon. A metal plaque at the base of the sculpture declares, "Ariadna Oak, Summer Queen. We will never forget your sacrifice."

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"Is she a famous witch?" I ask, intrigued by the story behind the statue.

Leonora nods. "She's the former Summer Queen. A heroine. Nonetheless—" She touches my shoulder, redirecting my attention. "There's someone I'd like you to meet." Her expression turns serious, and I follow her gaze to the cherry tree we had used for travel. Placing her hand gently on the trunk, she says, "Eileen, this is Galatea Wildcherry. She's your grandmother."

"Really?" I blink, trying to process the information. Slowly, I walk over to the cherry tree and place my own hand on its smooth bark, expecting to feel it breathing.

So this tree was a witch? This tree was—is my granny. It's hard to believe. A mix of reverence and curiosity washes over me. Closing my eyes, I press my ear to the bark, half-expecting to hear a heartbeat or some sign of life within. But all I find is the quiet rustle of leaves and the gentle creaking of branches.

"Does that mean that my grandmother died here in the square?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Leonora's blue eyes darken, sadness flickering across her face. "Usually, when a witch senses her death approaching, she departs to Witchwood’s forest. There she quietly becomes a tree. But something happened and— We transplanted her here." She wipes away a tear, forcing a small smile. "In any case, it makes me happy that she can finally meet her granddaughter."

I want to feel the same happiness, but it's hard to know how to react in this situation. Do I dare console her, hug her? It's evident that this is an important moment for Leonora. What if I say the wrong thing?

Luckily, Nyx breaks the sombre mood. "I'm starving," he grumbles, shifting in place impatiently. "Where are we eating?"

"Good point!" Leonora exclaims, her voice brightening. "Sorry, I got a little sentimental. There'll be plenty of time to talk later – let's go get that cheesecake."

As we leave the tree behind, I can't help but steal one last glance at its sturdy trunk.

Aunt Leonora leads us down a large main street lined with trees. Smaller, intricate paths branch off from it, beckoning to explore their secrets. I can't help but admire the houses as we walk. Low, triangular buildings made of brownish stone stand proudly among extensive gardens. Their facades are covered with flowers and vines that seem to dance in the gentle breeze. Shops, cafes, and trees of all kinds are interspersed between the houses, creating an atmosphere of harmony and whimsy.

"Wow, look at that forest!" I exclaim, pointing towards the horizon. An endless sea of trees stretches out before us.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Leonora replies, her eyes twinkling. "That's Witchwood's forest."

As we continue walking, Leonora takes a sharp right turn, leading us up a steep path. My curiosity piques when I spot our destination: a charming patisserie filled with mouth-watering sweets. Millefeuilles, candied cakes, meringues, and cakes adorned with strawberries and orange slices fill the shop window, making my stomach rumble in anticipation.

"Go on," Leonora urges, smiling warmly. "It's your birthday, after all. Order whatever you like."

"Really?" I ask, my eyes wide with delight. "In that case..."

Okay, I admit I have a problem when it comes to sweets. But no one's perfect. Right after we sit, I order two hot chocolates (both for me), a slice of cheesecake, and a tasting selection of the best cakes they have to offer: a strawberry cake, a cream cake, a lemon tart, and finally, a carrot cake.

Nyx chuckled and playfully nudges me with his elbow. "Are you preparing for a cake-eating contest?" he said, teasing me.

I rolled my eyes. "What can I say? I have a sweet tooth."

"And soon you'll have no teeth if you keep up with such a balanced diet."

"Let her be, it's her birthday," Leonora chimed in.

"Egsakhly," I replied, my mouth full of cake.

Nyx, meanwhile, orders a big steak which he devours within seconds and promptly asks for another.

"You're one for talking," I point out, trying to get back at him.

"Hey, this is all protein," he bites back.

As I keep digging into the cheesecake, savouring its rich creaminess, I notice Leonora watching me with a pleased expression.

"Are you enjoying it?" Leonora asks, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Bestph cakeph I've ever had," I mumble around a mouthful of cheesecake before swallowing noisily. "Sorry."

Leonora's eyes crinkle as she smiles. "I'm glad you like it. Afterwards, we can go buy you a dress for tonight's party."

"Wait, there's a party?" I ask, astonished. "I mean, I don't know anyone, but I guess that's what parties are for."

"Trust me, parties at the Spring Palace are legendary. It's going to change your life." Leonora winks and I feel my heart race with anticipation. "How are you liking Witchwood so far?"

"It's so pretty, it looks like a postcard," I say, trying to take in all the sights around me. "Though it's kind of weird that there are no cars, no roads, nor cables everywhere... And there's a lot of witches and familiars! I wasn't expecting that."

"Ah, yes," Leonora replies, nodding thoughtfully. "There weren't always so many witches living in Witchwood. When it was founded, it was barely inhabited, but after the Great Witch Hunt, almost everyone came to live here, for fear of warlocks."

"Are there no witches living outside of Witchwood?"

"Not really – it's too risky. Other witches might find it a bit odd that you were raised outside but don't worry. It's not like we never go out, although it's true that we do so rarely."

"Is that how you get things like chocolate?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"Yes," Leonora says, hesitating briefly. "We can't completely avoid going out. You have to do it for certain important matters, like—"

"Like chocolate?" I say.

"Like getting pregnant," she says finally, her cheeks flushing a little. My own face heats up, and I avoid Nyx's gaze when I realise he's looking at me, smiling smugly.

"Ah. Of course." I clear my throat, trying to shake off the embarrassment. Suddenly, thoughts of Adrian - the man who came to my house - flood my mind, and I can't help but blush as I remember his eyes, his voice, how stupidly handsome he was.

"A man came to my house before that... warlock attacked me," I tell Leonora and Nyx, hoping they might have some answers about him.

"Ah, yes, Nyx mentioned that," Leonora says, exchanging a knowing look with her familiar. "Though we've never heard of him before, we think he was probably another warlock, a scout, most likely biding his time until his boss arrived."

My heart races at her words. So he was lying about my father inviting him, of course. He wanted to kill me. But how did he know so much about me? My hands tremble, and Leonora reaches out to steady me.

"You're safe here, Eileen," she reassures me, her blue eyes filled with sincerity and warmth.

"Thank you," I murmur, trying to find solace in her words. Even if I've just arrived, I do feel safe here.

But then I feel the air turning frigid, as if a million knives were cutting through it... Just like when that gruesome warlock arrived at my door.