When Mildred had thought about sneaking a peek at the court wizard’s tower, she hadn’t planned for it to be like this. Feeling as though Taffeta had begun to dote on her was one thing, but having the king’s pet magician outright told to keep an eye on her was entirely another form of insult. Mildred watched through a skeptic squint as the young man—maybe not so young as the princess, maybe closer in age to Taffeta—dithered about his workspace. Already, he had thoughts of breaking the curse himself. Not in the traditional way; Mildred felt justified in being relieved about that on Briallen’s behalf, but through his own act of wizardry.

Mildred harrumphed again at the thought. The wizard cast another wary glance in her direction, just to hurry his attention back to his work. He had asked questions earlier, and she had answered them as truthfully as ever, but there was a disconnect between her type of magic and his that he seemed to want to blame on Mildred herself.

“You provided your own moon water, then?”

“Some.” Mildred answered plainly. She just wasn’t going to explain that when she had run out of the full moon water she had brought with her, Briallen had volunteered to collect pond water. It made sense, though Mildred had been pleasantly surprised to hear Briallen reason it out as well. It probably delighted the princess her skin now matched the pond scum and algae as well.

The wizard harrumphed back at Mildred as he scribbled more of his notes. He seemed to think that if he started by reverse engineering it, there really might be something for him to do. It almost made Mildred want to just give him the entire recipe, just to see...

The door to the wizard’s workshop swung inward and loudly. His pen clattered across the workspace with the force of his startle, but Mildred only sighed. Of course she had been told on. Whether by Taffeta or the queen no longer mattered at this point; the formal robes of a matron witch cut a dark silhouette against an already darkened doorway.

Taffeta stepped into the wizard’s workshop, and then it was Mildred’s turn to startle. It had already happened? Taffeta in her matron robes... And Mildred had missed it.

“Matron Taffeta?” The wizard had recovered from his fright only to sound an extra notch perturbed. He crossed his arms as he regarded her as exactly that—a matron, not just some maiden to be dismissed. And even he knew. Before Mildred.

Taffeta gave a curt nod. She didn’t look at Mildred even once, but she still said, “I need to speak with my matron alone.”

The wizard stepped away from his workspace and in front of Taffeta, as if he needed to bar her from Mildred. “I’m not sure that I should allow that.”

Taffeta crossed her arms, and although Mildred couldn’t see it now with the wizard standing between them, it was very easy for her to imagine the raised eyebrow and stone-cold expression. She’d seen it often enough. “I wasn’t asking for permission.”

The wizard hummed a doubtful noise, but in the end, he chose to step out of Taffeta’s way. The door shut heavily behind him. The silence afterwards was even heavier.

Mildred shifted in her seat. She considered getting up and moving closer to Taffeta—if Taffeta didn’t first—so that they wouldn’t have to have this conversation too loudly. Just because they had been given the room didn’t mean they might not be overhead. It was entirely possible that was the only reason the wizard had conceded to Taffeta so quickly. Not to say that Taffeta wasn’t formidable, especially in the face of a wizard, but-

Taffeta resolved all of Mildred’s thoughts at once, the heels of her shoes clicking coldly against the marble floor as she both moved nearer to Mildred and said rather loudly, “What did you do?!”

“I thought we already had this conversation, Taffeta.” Mildred sat up straighter and lifted her chin. She didn’t even mean to be facetious, although she did hear it, but they had already discussed this hours ago. And she had long since resolved that she would not be lectured by anyone, matron or not, younger than herself. “I only did what the princess asked me to do.”

Taffeta shook her head. "No, you didn’t.”

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“Yes, I did.” Mildred insisted.

Taffeta sighed, but her renewed approach wasn’t all that different. “She did not ask you to curse her.”

“Yes, she did. And I’m sure you’ll have to ask her when the rest of the coven gets here.” That would be it, then. If Taffeta was there, then the council was sure to follow. Taffeta had probably called them the moment Mildred had snapped her compact shut.

But as long as they really did ask for Briallen’s side of the story, Mildred reserved hope that she wouldn’t be judged too harshly.

“I’m trying to avoid that.” Taffeta said nearly through her teeth, as if they might hear her even now.

Mildred cocked her head and gave Taffeta another look over. “You haven’t told them? Then how…?”

“I’m borrowing them from Rowena.” Taffeta tugged at her right sleeve self-consciously. Now that she stood nearer to Mildred, it was easy to see they didn’t fit quite as tailored as they should have. If they were really her robes, if she really had gone and done it under Mildred’s nose. “I thought maybe if everyone thought I was a matron, then it might help.”

Mildred fought a smile. She certainly couldn’t blame the girl for that. She had stolen her own matron’s robes on a few occasions. “Oh, no one here knows the first thing about how the coven works.”

“Well, I suppose that might work out in your favor too.” Taffeta frowned and took a moment to rethink whatever plan she had made before looking back up at Mildred again. “You have to tell me whats really going on, matron. So I can help you.”

“I already have.”

Taffeta pinched the bridge of her nose. “I know you aren’t that far gone, Mildred. But do you know what the coven is going to do if they think you’ve gone senile on them? Because it’s not going to be letting you sit around here and fix it, I can tell you that much right now.”

“Of course you can.” Taffeta had been planning for as much, Mildred was still sure of it. And it had been silly of Mildred, she saw that now, to have played into their hands this way. “You’ll get what you want, is what’ll happen. You’ll get me sent to Dewmire, or Moonhill, or some piddly little village I haven’t even heard of, and you’ll have your robes and the apothecary, and- And you won’t need me anymore. You don’t.”

Taffeta fought a smile of her own; it only made Mildred scowl harder. “Is that really what you think I’ve been doing? Scheming against you?”

Mildred crossed her arms as she looked away from Taffeta. She couldn’t stand this being amusing to her. “It’s what you all do. It’s what I did to my matron.”

“Yes, well, your matron was a piece of work.” Taffeta chuckled nervously. Although Mildred had laid out the details of her own trials as a witch for Taffeta’s own benefit, Taffeta had always tread carefully around the subject. Mildred had always thought it was so as not to give herself away. That they didn’t need to talk about Taffeta’s transition to matron; they both knew how these things went. By now, she’d seen it happen time and again with the rest of her peers. “I don’t want you to leave the apothecary or me. That’s what I’ve been scheming about.”

“You didn’t consult me.” If that had been true, then Taffeta would have asked her. Or Mildred would have seen the signs. Different signs. She wasn’t that old, and she didn’t miss things like that. Not from her own maiden.

“Well, no.” Taffeta still sounded amused by something. It made Mildred want to be contrary all the more. This wasn’t funny. “You just would have argued about it.”

"No, I wouldn’t have.”

“Yes, you would.” Taffeta spoke through loosely withheld laughter again. “You already do, all the time. Gods forbid, I make anything easier for you.”

“No.” That couldn’t have been it. Mildred would have seen it. She wouldn’t have been so hard on Taffeta, then. She wouldn’t have felt so justified every time she caught herself behaving like her own matron had with her.

“You’re doing it right now.” Taffeta fixed Mildred with a flat look. “Do you really think I would do that to you?”

“It’s what you’re supposed to do.” Mildred had already said that. It was what she had done as a maiden witch. It was probably what all of Taffeta’s friends had done as well.

“Well.” Taffeta’s smile warmed again. This time, it didn’t bother Mildred. “My matron was never really one for doing what one was supposed to do.”

Perhaps it was only the fact that she hadn’t slept well after an already very long night, but Mildred laughed in relief. The corners of her eyes damped too. She had to pull a handkerchief from her sleeve to dab at them, drawing Taffeta’s attention to it all and causing her to pitch forward with a hug.

“Oh.” Mildred patted Taffeta’s back.

"Now, will you please tell me exactly what happened?” Taffeta let go, finally, and took a step back. “I haven’t told anyone anything, but Maxina sent a raven to catch up and warn me. They’re really not happy with you right now.”

“The princess really did ask to be cursed.”

Taffeta groaned.

“No! Listen. She did. She was bothered by the way her suitors were treating her and wanted to prove a point. And I thought well; so do I. So…” Perhaps it did sound a bit childish when Mildred said it all like that. After all, Taffeta had just said too.

“I wish you would have told me.”

“It was a severely improvised curse. I’m a bit surprised it worked at all.”

“No. I wish you would have told me you felt you had a point to prove.” Taffeta wrung her hands and rocked on her heels, clearly mulling on more to say. “I’m- I’m sorry.”

“Well, it’s proven now, isn’t it?” Taffeta didn’t need to be sorry. Mildred felt her own sorries, but she couldn’t quite find a voice for them. Not yet. Maybe once she and Taffeta returned to the apothecary, this entire ordeal behind them.