Page 34 of Stolen Magic

I couldn’t speak. This wasn’t like slipping into her role at court, where I wore her name like armor and lies in my strategic game of impersonation and manipulation—this was the friend I had betrayed in every possible way. Sunlight broke through the shifting clouds and framed her face, casting soft shadows across her cheeks and the faint, puzzled downturn of her mouth.

Something flickered in her eyes as she continued to stare—uneasy recognition, as if my presence was enough to trigger her suppressed memories. She took a tentative step forward, the distance between us shrinking with every heartbeat.

“There’s something about you…that makes me almost remember something just beyond my reach.” Her fingers brushed her temple, as if subconsciously trying to retrieve the buried recollection my presence had caused.

My mouth had gone dry. I swallowed hard. “Do you remember who you are?” Despite my efforts to maintain a façade of calm, my voice trembled.

Her brow pinched. “There was a journey.” Her voice had softened, but there was a flicker of urgency behind it now. “A carriage, an inn, and…you. You were there with me…weren’t you?”

A lump formed in my throat. As much as I yearned to, I couldn’t deny it; I could only nod. Silence settled around us, broken only by a distant honk from one of the geese. She didn’t avert her gaze, only studied me harder, as if trying to carve my face into memory. Recognition slowly penetrated her confusion and dread tightened my stomach.

She hesitated before advancing another step. “There’s something else, faded snippets I can’t quite hold onto…like trying to cling to a distant dream from long ago…yet seeing you brings details that were once faint and indiscernible back into focus.”

Caution urged me to leave before she could recall the full memory but I couldn’t move, as if my suppressed conscience needed her to remember what I had forced her to forget, regardless of the dire consequences.

“I drank something,” she continued. “Not water, but a tea I’ve never had before. It tasted strange. Afterwards, I didn’t feel well…and then everything went dark.” Shards of her fragmented memory seemed to break through with every word. “I woke up alone, with no name or memory. I thought maybe I’d been cursed. A kind family gave me a ride to the palace and allowed me to work here, tending the geese, but I could never shake thefeeling that I was in the wrong place. But even when I couldn’t remember anything else, IknewI had been betrayed.”

Recognition bloomed fully, unmistakable clarity filling her eyes as the last of the missing pieces suddenly clicked into place. Horror slowly dawned. Her breath hitched and she staggered back, as if I’d struck her.

“It was you.” Her voice was sharp now, shaking with disbelief. “You were my handmaiden. You served me, kept me company, and befriended me…but it was all a lie. In realityyou’rethe one who took everything from me…Lysa.”

I didn’t move, I could barely breathe. Whatever fragile sisterhood we might’ve shared in those stolen days was now gone, leaving only the ruins I’d left behind when I abandoned her.

Though I had no right to mourn a friendship that hadn’t been real, I still ached to see the face that had once smiled at me trustingly now tense with anger and hurt. I fought to suppress the emotion clawing my throat, threatening to overtake me. “So you remember after all.” My voice emerged quietly, resigned.

Though this hadn’t been part of the plan, I hadn’t expected the memory charm to last forever, leaving me unsurprised that the magic I’d risked so much to cast was already unraveling like a thread tugged from the hem of a too-tightly-woven lie.

Though I’d poured every ounce of strength into it, my unpracticed powers had never been stable. The seal had burned like fire, my energy spent before the final syllable had even left my lips. Perhaps it hadn’t been my inexperience or the weakness of my magic that doomed the spell—but my doubt and guilt, the part of me that hadn’t wanted her to entirely forget.

To my surprise, she smiled, but it was absent of its usual kindness. “I’ve forgotten many things—memories that I can only detect traces of before they vanish again.” Her voice turned toice. “But the name and face of thefriendwho betrayed me is the one thing I can’t fully forget.”

Her heartbreak cut deeper than any blade. I lowered my eyes, unable to bear the hurt in her eyes. It wasn’t fury that undid me but thedisappointment, like I’d become someone neither of us recognized.

She paused, as if waiting for me to justify my actions, but we both knew no explanation could ever suffice for what I had done to her. Still, I longed to give hersomething: though she had been a means to an end, I hadn’twantedto steal her life, only meant to borrow her crown long enough to reclaim what was mine, to make the kingdom that had burned my world pay its debts in fire and blood.

But no words came.

“I trusted you.” Her hand rose to her mouth, as if she could somehow hold the pain inside. “I thought you were my friend.”

I flinched at the sharp accusation, but I had no defense—just a hollow ache in my chest and the sting of tears I refused to let fall. “I didn’t want to hurt you.” The brittle words felt insubstantial, but they were all I had.

She didn’t respond, just stood trembling with her hands twisting in her servant’s skirt, as if the ground had shifted beneath her and she was still struggling to find her balance. The silence stretched between us, heavy with everything I hadn’t said and which she was only just beginning to remember…yet so much still remained hidden away.

That left me with an advantage, but with the spell gradually weakening piece by piece like fog thinning in the morning sun, it likely wouldn’t last for much longer. Uncertainty filled her trembling hands as she clutched her head, her breaths shallow and uneven.

“I know you broke my trust…though nothow.” Her voice cracked. “Why don’t I remember everything? It seemsimpossible, but I think magic was involved. I don’t know how this would be possible, but did you…curseme?”

Her eyes widened in both shock and fear as she edged backward, clearly distrusting anyone with magic. I couldn’t blame her; Eldoria had done an excellent job of causing my people to shrink from anything reminiscent of the once revered and now illegal substance.

“No. I—I didn’t have enough power for that. I just…cast a memory charm. A simple memory charm.” It was the barest explanation I could offer in feeble penance. “It’s not meant to be permanent, only to buy me time.” Though the few paltry days it’d given me had so far only confused my purpose and clouded my convictions.

Her gaze met mine, lost and uncertain. “Time for what?”

“To take back what was stolen from me.” I didn’t elaborate further, unwilling to provide more information than was prudent.

She hadn’t mentioned Prince Callan, nor their engagement. That part of her memory remained sealed…for now. Despite the missing patches in her fragmented recollection, some lingering thread of vengeance had penetrated the haze and led her back to the palace in search for her perpetrator responsible for all that had been stolen from her.

“I—” My voice broke. I tried once. “I’m sorry.” But I knew it wasn’t enough, especially when I had no intention of surrendering what I had taken.

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