"Blood witches are capable of summoning Wisps into our world by drawing a Triskelion with their blood," Leonora continues, her voice weary. "The trouble is that Wisps do not belong in this realm, and while they are here, they suffer indescribable agony."

I remember the four-eyed serpent creature I encountered in Wispwood, and a shiver runs through me as I imagine such a being materialising in our reality.

"Blood witches can bend the will of Wisps and force them to do anything by making them drink their blood," she adds. "When dealing with Wisps, a witch can only access so much power. However, blood witches are not bound by such limitations," she explains, her eyes glimmering. "That's why they are so powerful. Normally, a witch must bargain with a Wisp on their terms, on their land. But not blood witches."

I picture my mother torturing Wisps who implore her to stop. Forcing them to drink her blood while they plead for release from their cursed existence, begging to be returned to the world they once knew. Horrified, I lower my head and hug myself tight. Disgust churns in my stomach. "So, my mother... She was a monster," I say.

"No!" Leonora shakes her head vehemently and takes my hands in hers, forcing me to look back at her. "Your mother… Diana was good. She was my sister. I don't know why she did what she did, but that doesn't make her a monster. She was just mistaken, misguided..."

"What happened?" I interrupt, desperate to know the truth. "How did my mother kill Grandma?"

Two huge tears roll down Leonora's cheeks, and she freezes for a few seconds. Nyx rubs against her arm and purrs softly, trying to comfort her. "Leonora," he says in a soft voice, "you don't have to answer that."

But Leonora wipes her tears with a handkerchief she takes out of her dress' bodice and shakes her head. Clutching the handkerchief tightly in her hands, she looks me straight in the eyes. "It's a sad story, Eileen. But you're right, you deserve to hear it all."

"Leonora..." Nyx starts.

"Please, Nyx," she pleads in a stern tone. The black cat leaps off her lap and walks over to a corner of the room, clearly upset. I can tell he is trying to protect Leonora from recalling painful memories. My chest tightens. I'm scared, but I want to know. "Leonora…"

"Let her tell it, Nyx," I say, looking at the cat. He ignores me and closes his eyes as if he's taking a nap. I guess that's enough.

Her voice takes on a serious note as she begins her story, and my chest heaves with anticipation.

"One night nineteen years ago," Leonora starts, her eyes widening as if she's reliving the memory, "I was awakened by screams in the palace. There was a stir among the witches, and no one was able to tell me what was going on. I followed the tumult to the throne room… and there I saw her lying."

"My grandmother?" I ask, breathless.

"Yes," she continues. "Galatea, your grandmother, had turned into a colossal cherry tree... The throne was split in two, and the room was in disarray. Burnt curtains, ash floating in the air. Glass from the broken windows. On the floor… There was a Triskelion drawn in blood."

I swallow hard, thinking how difficult it must be for Leonora to recall these dreadful memories. But she's doing it for me, and I want to hug her for that. However, I stop myself and continue to listen as she speaks.

"Back then I didn't know the full extent of what had happened," Leonora says, her voice heavy with emotion. "But it turns out, Diana's blood magic had created a demon."

"A demon?" I ask, interrupting her.

She nods gravely. "Sometimes the pain of being in our world is so unbearable that a Wisp loses control and turns into a demon." I repress a squeal at the thought. "These demons only yearn to return to their home, attacking the witch who summoned them… And any witch or anything in their path," Leonora continues. "They're almost impossible to control."

My fists clench tight. How could someone do something so dangerous? Just out of rage, out of a lust for power? "Was my moth... Was Diana there?" I ask hesitantly.

"Several witnesses saw Diana flee the throne room," Leonora replies, her voice profoundly sad. "Diana... she had been behaving strangely for some time; she wasn't herself. I don't know why she did it. It's true that Diana and Mum had had a big argument in public a few months ago, and Diana left saying she hated her, that she'd make her regret it... But no one knows what they were talking about. When Diana was captured, she didn't want to say anything. Not even to me."

My fists clench at my sides as I struggle to process what Leonora just revealed. And yet I want to know more.

"Did they capture her, then?" I ask, surprised, wondering if she was executed.

Leonora nods. "Yes," she says softly, her voice trembling. "Diana was imprisoned for a short time. But she attacked the guard using blood magic and escaped from the cell. No one has seen Diana since." Leonora's face contorts, as if the memory causes her physical pain. "I… I don't even know if Diana, my sister, is dead or alive."

Her voice dies out, leaving me with a feeling of dread, profound disgust, and anger, but also... sadness. What Leonora just told me is too awful, too horrifying. If before I resented my mother for having abandoned us... how can I react to such atrocities? How could my kind, good-hearted Dad have fallen in love with a woman like that? How can someone so horrible be… my mother?

No, I don't have a mother. It's a strange thought, but also somewhat comforting. For so long, I was unsure if my mother was good or bad. But all my doubts are finally resolved. Not knowing the truth was more painful than facing it. Now, knowing her true character makes it easier to hate her.

"Forgive me," Leonora says, meeting my eyes. "I should have told you about this earlier. It's just… maybe it was too much, maybe I was comfortable delaying an unsettling conversation, and I'm sorry for that."

Her apology is sincere, and I know deep down that both Leonora and I have been avoiding this conversation. I can't blame her for wanting to protect me from such a dark truth for a little longer. I remember the countless times Leonora tried to bring up the conversation about my mother, and how I had purposefully changed the subject. I wanted to avoid talking about her at all costs, and that was what had caused this situation.

"It's not your fault," I reply, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over me. "Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for everything you've done for me today."

Leonora's eyes glisten with unshed tears as she smiles back at me. I pull her into a warm hug, overwhelmed by the thought that just yesterday, I didn't even know she existed.

As we break apart, a troubling question lingers in my mind. "What happened to the demon?" I ask, referring to the one my mum's blood magic had caused. Leonora frowns again, looking troubled.

"The demon is precisely why Freya hates Diana, and therefore why Freya hates you," she explains. I furrow my brow, trying to understand exactly what she means. Leonora continues, "The demon your mum created killed the Summer Queen, Freya's mother, Ariadna Oak."

My mind flashes to the golden statue of the woman with a raised sword in the middle of Four Seasons Square. "So that was Freya's mother!" I exclaim, finally putting the pieces together.

"Yes," Leonora confirms with a heavy sigh, "Ariadna fought bravely against Diana's demon," Leonora says, her voice filled with admiration. "The creature created a terrible fire in the Witchwood forest, and Ariadna was the only one capable of containing it."

"Queens of the Summer Court possess fire and light magic," Nyx adds, his whiskers twitching.

"She was a hero," Leonora continues, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "If Ariadna hadn't been there, the rest of us wouldn't have survived... She managed to drive the demon out of Witchwood, but it cost her her life."

My heart aches at the thought of losing someone you love in such a tragic way... It must have been devastating.

"Freya was young when it happened," Nyx chimes in, his purr softening the sombre atmosphere. "She wasn't prepared for the responsibility of the crown... Or for losing her mother."

I think about how I would feel if something happened to my father. I don't even want to imagine it. "It must have been hard for her..." I whisper.

"In any case," Leonora says, her resolve strengthening, "that doesn't justify the way she treated you. You are not your mother." She pauses, looking me straight in the eye. "What do you say? Shall we go back to the party?"

I look at Leonora doubtfully. The idea of facing Freya again, enduring the stares and whispers of the other witches, fills me with dread.

"In my opinion, you should return to the banquet," Leonora says, rising gracefully from the bed and placing the crown back on her head. The delicate flowers bloom anew, vibrant and full of life. "You can't let Freya get away with it and think you'll bend to her will."

She gazes at me with an unwavering determination, but adds, "However, it is your decision." Her outstretched hand hovers between us, a lifeline waiting for me to take hold. "What do you say, are you coming or not?"

I glance at her palm, then back at her eyes, torn between the desire to face my fears and the urge to hide from them. If I go, I'll have to endure the judgemental glances of the other witches, Astrid's inevitable questions... But if I don't go... The image of Freya's smirk burns into my mind, accompanied by the intense hatred that radiates from her eyes. I can't show any signs of weakness or fear. I have to confront this head-on.

"Fuck it," I mutter under my breath, steeling myself. With a deep breath, I reach out and grasp Leonora's hand. "I'm coming."

"Good choice," she says, a warm smile lighting up her face. "Also, language." I laugh as we stand together, united in our resolve.

Little did I know, I was making the wrong choice.