Blood is power, the old woman said. Her golden hair had faded long ago. The sun had been unkind, weathering her skin like an old hide. She had trudged up the long staircase to my room at the top of the stone tower. Fifteen years passed since the night her horrific shadow first crossed my path. The old woman's hunched form gasped for air, and she lowered herself into a chair.
The hag's ancient gray eyes were listless. She sat across from me like we were old friends, though we were not. Staring at her gnarled hands, I remembered seeing them smooth and covered in blood. It was impossible to forget. That moment was etched into my mind, like acid burning away metal, for eternity.
That dark memory crushed all happy ones. I couldn't remember Father's laughter or the sparkle of his eyes when he spoke. I couldn't remember his warm voice and strong touch. All of that was gone, stolen by the woman who sat across from me.
The witch.
The old sorceress wrung her hands, and took a deep breath.
This was the only night of the year that I was allowed a small amount of freedom. It was my birthday, but that wasn't the reason I was allowed to venture from her side. The reason I was permitted to leave my stone prison was due to someone else's birth the Crown Prince. Each year, the royal family held a ball to celebrate his birth. And every year the witch forced me to attend.
However, that tiny bit of freedom came at a price. I was forced to steal, taking things that were not mine. The penalty for theft was severe in this kingdom. The guard who caught me had the right to sever my hand at the wrist. If I was caught a second time, my head would be severed at the neck. Theft from the palace was a higher risk. There were more guards to see me steal. I risked much in doing this, but it was worth the risk.
The witch taught me how to take things and evade the guard's detection. I became more than adept as I grew. No one suspected me. A governess concocted of dark magic trailed behind me, until I found what I needed. And the witch usually asked for things that wouldn't be missed like a lock of hair, a piece of cloth, or some other discarded, worthless, item. She collected these things and stored them under lock and key in the wooden cabinet. I expected that this year would not be different.
She would require me to take something that wouldn't be missed, and send a governess to trail along behind me.