I wasn’t sure how the meeting with her had gone.

To the Grand Duchess, all I could offer was a groveling apology wrapped in pathetic excuses.

Even though we had done our best to prepare, admitting our incompetence by blaming the witches for undoing it seemed like the safest option.

There was no way we could confess that the curse we cast had mistakenly targeted Beatrice herself.

“Magic of the Golden Age. Did we interpret it wrong?”

“No, the interpretation was perfect.”

“If there’s a cause, it must lie with Isabelle, that witch.”

“What in the world did she do?!”