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It all happens so simply really, and it all comes down to the fact that Annette’s heart is far too big for the size of her house.
As a witch, it’s very important for her to study a whole range of animals, she insists when Mercie comes over for tea. Her friend is too polite to point out that she is a witch too, and she only has her familiar – a large black bat that’s eyes gleam in the corner of the darkest room in Mercedes’ house. The creature does not match her friend at all, Annette thinks, but she’ll never say that to her face.
Annette has many creatures in her house. Her own familiar is a large shaggy dog by the name of Crusher. He’s an overly friendly dog too, hence the name. He has almost broken Mercedes’ bones on multiple occasions to say nothing from the injuries that Annette has sustained over the years. Perhaps it is rather unconventional for a witch to have a dog as a familiar – the picture books that the two of them like to laugh at always depict witches with pointy hats and black cats perched by their feet.
In her tiny cottage at the edge of the woods, Annette also has a coop of chickens, three rabbits, a pond where frogs do not live but often frequent in the rainier months, and a large raven which she uses to send letters to her friends across the country. On occasion she also has an owl, but she considers the owl more of a friend than a pet as it comes and goes as it pleases, and Annette has no desire to keep the poor thing tied down.
The people who live in the town nearby know very well that Annette is a witch. For a while, she thought she had her secret kept well under wraps, until one of the children asked her why the smoke that came out of her chimney was all different colours, and the child’s mother looked at her with a certain stare that told Annette that in fact everyone knew.
But it turns out that while everyone knew, no one minded, because on the whole Annette has kept to herself for the entirety of her adult life. She’s not “one of those witches”, the mayor told her one time, to which she nodded and laughed politely, not sure what he meant by that. Annette has always been welcome in town, and quietly promotes her services for healing and animal training when no one is watching. Those are things that people can do without magic of course, but Annette does them better.
She has a knack for knowing what exactly to put into a salve, for how to mix two medicines together to make something that while tasting absolutely disgusting is ten times stronger and more convenient than the original parts. As for the animals… well, Annette keeps her talent under her hat to the townsfolk, but most of her magic skills lie in her ability to talk to animals. They don’t often talk back to her, mostly out of surprise, but because they can truly listen, they’re more likely to behave for her. Maybe she threatens them a little, like one might with an unruly child, but that’s another of Annette’s secrets.
This whole mess begins on a stormy night, as most good stories do. A windswept Annette returns from town after a long day of medicine deliveries. With winter fast approaching, many of the townsfolk are scared of getting sick, and Annette is rushed off her feet. As she reaches her front door she acutely notices that feeling of being unable to stop, and her hands meet the wood of the front door just as she realises that she’s not going mad – she’s tripped over something.
Maybe someone called earlier while she was out and has left her something? As she bends down to examine the mystery object, aware of the freezing rain hitting her face, she notices that the object is not a parcel at all, but a small dark cat, meowing aggressively at her front door.
“Do you want to come in?” Annette asks, stroking the cat on the top of its head. It stops yelling for a moment, and Annette takes that as a yes, unlocking her door. The cat bolts inside before Annette has a chance to do anything, leaving wet pawprints across the tile to the fire.
The fire hasn’t been lit – Annette hasn’t been there all day, and her animals don’t seem to mind the cold all that much. Crusher gets up from his usual position under her armchair – how he gets under there she will never understand – to greet Annette with a friendly woof, earning himself a cuddle before Annette removes her wet cloak and makes her way to the fire.
The cat begins to yowl once more – a very demanding creature, Annette thinks with a sigh. Regardless, the fire needs lit, and with a flick of her wrist it comes to life. The cat’s silence follows, and Annette glances over at it to see that it has curled up in front of the fire.
Dinner is next on her own agenda, and Annette sets off to the kitchen, followed by Crusher. The cat stays where it lies, and though focussed on her own meal, Annette has to wonder what on earth she should feed a cat. She’s never had a cat before – always a dog person, ever from she was little. She thinks back instead to those silly stories about witches, and places a saucer of milk in front of the cat when she sits down with her own dinner.
The cat looks at the milk, and then to her, and then back to the milk. Annette has to stifle a laugh – clearly, the cat is not impressed by her proffering. After screwing it’s nose up at the dish a second time, the cat begins to lap at the milk, and Annette relaxes.
There’s not much she can do for the creature when it refuses to be touched. Annette tries her best to examine the cat, to look for injuries. Why was it at her door, why was it so desperate to get in? She’s taken in many animals over the years, and not one of them has waited for her outside her own front door. This cat is an anomaly, but when Annette looks at its bright yellow eyes, she feels rather taken by the thing.
It purrs gently in its sleep when Annette leaves the room to head to bed herself. Crusher is rather suspicious of the newcomer, but follows his master diligently away when called. In the morning, Annette plans to go to the library to find out how she should be looking after a cat. For now, she settles under the covers with Crusher at her feet, and dreams of storms that don’t end.
The storm passes overnight, and Annette wakes to the warmth of early winter sun streaming through her window. Crusher no longer sleeps at the end of her bed, but instead stands by the door, tail standing straight, staring at the wood as if he can see through to the other side. Her familiar often has these moments of madness, and Annette ignores him as she gets ready for the day.
Once she’s dressed herself and pulled her hair into two neat little plaits, Annette heads out the back door to feed the chickens and the rabbits. There are no frogs at the minute (she checks every day, just in case), and her raven is on its way to Mercedes. It’s an easier day thus far, though Annette still isn’t sure what she’s supposed to feed the cat.
While she’s preparing her own breakfast she pours more milk into the saucer from last night and brings it into the room where she left the cat peacefully on the sofa last night. The cat doesn’t get the milk however, as she drops it with an alarming shatter. The cat is gone, and in its place lies a man, who only stirs at the loud noise that she makes.
“Crusher!” She yells, and in an instant the dog is by her side, growling under his breath at the intruder. “Who on earth are you? State your business immediately!”
“You’re the one that invited me in,” the man grumbles, rubbing his eyes. “Last night, in the rain.”
“I did no such thing!” Annette tells him indignantly, folding her arms across her chest. “I would never bring a strange man in.”
“You would bring a cat in though, wouldn’t you?”
He turns his head to look at her, and for a moment Annette can feel her heart stop. It sounds ridiculous, but she can see the cat’s yellow eyes reflected here, albeit the tone is more muted. And the colour of his hair matches the cat’s fur too – an inky sort of colour, somewhere between black and blue.
What’s worse is that Annette thinks she recognises this man. There’s a big house on the hill ten or so miles from town, and though she’s never had cause to go there, occasionally the inhabitants will come into town, and they always bring a stir with them. This man lives there, making him… well, by Annette’s best guess, he must be the young lord.
Her nearest neighbour told her all about the Duke one time over tea, not long after Annette had moved in and before she had begun to hide herself away. The Duke isn’t old by nobility’s standards, and he has one son. This must be the son, lying on Annette’s sofa, a man who last night was definitely a cat.
“Well, you can’t stay here,” she insists. “I have no room for house guests.”
“But I came here looking for you,” he says, rising to his feet.
“For me?” This takes Annette aback – how on earth does he know about her?
“It’s a very long and complicated story,” he groans. “But I do need your help. Please,” he adds on, like an afterthought.
“I suppose… I suppose you’re lucky that I don’t have anything else to do today, now that you are no longer a cat.”
“About that-“
“You can tell me about it after breakfast.”
Though he says nothing in response, she takes his silence as agreement to her terms, and promptly marches into the kitchen. For once, Crusher does not follow her, instead staring up at the man, who sidles past the creature to follow Annette into the kitchen. He leans against the doorframe as she makes herself busy, humming a little tune to herself.
“Felix,” he says, and Annette almost drops the porridge pot in shock.
“What?”
“You didn’t ask my name. It’s Felix.”
“Oh. Okay. Mine’s Annette.”
“I know.”
“You know? How?”
“I needed a witch, and so I asked around. I thought you weren’t letting me speak until after we’d eaten?”
“I’m not,” she says quickly, turning her back on him once more to dish up their food. She offers a bowl to him, and though he raises an eyebrow, he says nothing once again, deciding just to start eating instead.
While they eat, Annette takes advantage of the silence to observe Felix. He is a rather good looking man, if she has to say, with dark hair pulled away from his face with a ribbon, and sharp eyes that stare into his breakfast as if it’s something to fight. He sets his spoon down with a metallic clang when he’s done, and folds his hands, waiting for Annette to finish. She takes her time.
“Right,” she says when she’s finally decided there is no more porridge to scrape off the side of the bowl. “Why do you need my help?”
“I’m cursed,” he says simply.
“What, with turning into a cat?” She snorts. Felix does not find this funny.
“Yes.”
“Wait, seriously?”
“You know the magic is strong in this area. There are plenty of witches, and everyone knows who they are. Some of them, like you, are good, and some…”
“Ooh, did you have a run in with Cornelia? I heard she’s a nightmare to deal with, so you must have gotten on her bad side somehow.”
“Yes,” Felix sighs. “When I awoke three days ago, I felt fine. I had met her the day before – she had some dealings with my father that didn’t go to plan. When the sun set that day, I… turned into a cat. And I was stuck that way until the sun came up again.”
“Okay, so it’s a time based curse… that’s useful information, I guess. But why me? As you said, there are loads of people in the area that I’m sure could help you. More qualified witches, for a start. My friend-“
“You’re the one that talks to animals,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Oh.”
“I left the house the next morning when I found that I was back to myself, and immediately set about trying to find someone that could help me. Your name came up a few times. So here I am. Asking for your help.”
“I’m more of a… domestic care witch,” Annette admits sheepishly. “I don’t do much… breaking of curses or cool witch stuff like that.”
“I don’t mind how long it takes. Just… help me out.”
“I guess I can’t make things worse at least! Though there is a fee, of course, for my services.”
“I’ll pay when I’m back home. I’ll send it directly to you.”
“Sounds fine to me.”
“And… I’ll have to stay here. If possible. I did tell my father that I’d be out for a few days.”
“You know I have no room. You’ve seen this place, it’s just for me!”
“And that huge dog.”
“Crusher is a part of my family,” she says, shooting him a look to which he just rolls his eyes.
“Look, either way, I can’t go back there and have everyone see that I’m a cat.”
“Fine! Fine, you win. But you have to sleep on the sofa again.”
Felix extends a hand to her, and though she still has her doubts about this entire situation, Annette reaches out to shake it.
On first impressions alone, it does not seem that Felix is a particularly patient man. While Annette comes up with a game plan, he wanders in circles around her living room. It doesn’t have that much space for him to really be doing that, and even less when Crusher gets over his initial suspicion of the man and decides that pacing beside him is a lot more fun.
Eventually, she takes herself into what she likes to describe as her office. She supposes that it was really a boot room in the original design for the house, but it’s where she keeps all her witchy items, including all her books. Never has she broken a curse before, but according to the heaviest of her tomes, there are four ways in which she can try. They all sound ridiculous, but the mere fact that Felix is turning into a cat is ridiculous enough.
The first suggestion sounds awfully like soup, and Annette supposes that she can feed it to Felix for lunch. The book is very old-school, she thinks to herself, all ‘eye of newt’ and ‘toad legs’. But she hauls a large pot onto the stove anyway, and forages through the pantry for the ingredients. Thankfully, she has all of them, even the stupid sounding ones. Those are the ones that break the curse though, she rues.
She turns the incantation into a song as she stirs, dancing in front of the pot, one hand on the wooden spoon and the other controlling the heat. It makes it more interesting this way – she really does get bored very quickly just saying the spell. After a while she gets bored of the song too, and adds a little dance routine while the soup simmers.
“That smells like soup,” Felix comments idly, causing Annette to jump out of her skin. She turns to see him standing in the door way, one eyebrow raised and what looks to almost be a smile on his face.
“It’s curse-breaking soup, thank you very much.” She can feel her cheeks warm with embarrassment – it isn’t often that she has company, and clearly she has basically forgotten how to act in front of other people.
“Your little song was nice.”
“Are you being evil on purpose now?” She demands, threatening him with the spoon.
“No, I meant it,” Felix tells her, backing away a little.
“Do you want this soup or not?”
“Will it work?”
“Who knows?”
He seems keen to find out either way, and so Felix settles himself at one side of the table, waiting for Annette to finish. When she finally presents him with the dish, he merely nods before tucking in. If the spell works, they won’t know the answer until late. Either way, Annette watches him intently, curious to know what he thinks.
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“Do you feel any different?”
“Not at all. Less hungry,” Felix says, and Annette holds her head in her hands.
“That’s how everyone feels after eating! I mean, do you feel less cat like or anything?”
“I don’t feel cat like at all. I never did.”
“You are not helpful,” Annette huffs. “I’m going out. I’ll see you later on, and we’ll be able to tell if the spell has worked or not.”
“I thought you said you have no plans?” Felix wonders aloud, and Annette glares at him.
“I’ve just remembered something I need to do. Do not go outside! I can’t deal with people knowing I have the lord of the manor here and he might turn into a cat at any given moment.”
“This isn’t about you,” Felix says plainly, but Annette only rolls her eyes, and leaves him there alone in the kitchen in a whirlwind of orange hair.
When Annette returns from her made up errand it’s already dark outside. As she turns the key in the lock she wonders how she’ll be greeted – will it be Felix the man, or Felix the cat? It turns out that Crusher makes it to the door first, and after she pets him as vigorously as she always does, she notes the distinct lack of any human man in her house. As she walks towards the fire she is greeted there by an angry mewl, and looks down to see that Felix, the cat, is once again sitting on the sofa.
“Oh dear,” she says gently, mostly in an attempt not to laugh. “I suppose my spell didn’t work. Well, there’s always tomorrow!”
The cat does not look at all impressed, and in fact Felix closes his eyes to her. She turns her nose up indignantly at him in return, and disappears to the kitchen. Crusher remains by the fire, poking Felix with his nose. The cat does not respond, and after a moment, Crusher gives up, returning to his master’s side.
Annette eats dinner in the kitchen so she doesn’t have to look at Felix in his frankly pitifully cat form. He looks a lot better as a person – clearly he’s not used to his cat form, and his fur sticks out at some truly awful angles. He hasn’t even been in her life for a full day yet, not as himself at least, and Annette finds herself missing him on the other side of the table.
The raven crows at the window – a letter from Mercedes. It’s a welcome sign of normalcy when she has the Duke’s son in her other room. Mercie writes of the children in a village some fifty miles away, and how no one has quite twigged on to her magic abilities there yet. Mercedes is a much better healer than Annette will ever be, and for a moment, Annette considers asking her for her advice on this ridiculous situation. But Mercedes is a busy woman, and by the time the raven reaches her again, Annette will likely have tried all of the curse breaking methods she can think of.
She leaves another saucer of milk on the hearth as she passes Felix to go to bed. He doesn’t move a muscle, but she watches him from through the bannisters, and he reluctantly takes a sip before moving back to the sofa.
The next attempt at breaking the curse is a medicine that Felix is to rub on his forehead. With nothing better to do, he hovers over Annette’s shoulder while she makes it, despite her many complaints about it. She has outright told him on many occasions to get out and leave her alone, but the man pays no heed to her, watching intently as she crushes down flowers and other odd looking ingredients into a bright pink paste.
“Is there an incantation for this one?” Felix asks innocently.
“No,” Annette tells him quickly, too quickly.
“How does it work then?”
“Does it matter?” She sighs. “You’d hardly understand anyway.”
Felix hums in agreement. Of course there’s an incantation – it is a spell, after all. But she’s been muttering it quietly under her breath the whole time, the way Felix teased her about her song version of yesterday’s spell still fresh in her mind. He is an absolutely ridiculous man, Annette thinks to herself, and she’ll be glad when the curse is broken and he disappears from her life forever.
To her chagrin, Felix blatantly refuses to put the ointment onto his skin himself. She’s the witch, he argues, shouldn’t it be her? And although he’s right, Annette would rather not have to be so up close and personal with the son of the Duke. He’s a big deal around here, and as much as she hates to admit it, she can see why some of the local girls have talked about him over the years.
So she sucks it up, and makes Felix sit in one of her kitchen seats, rickety legs and all, and hovers over him, the tub of pink paste in her hand. She brushes his hair to one side, tucking as much of it behind his ear as will stay, and spreads the medicine across his cold skin. He winces – the medicine is even colder than he is. Annette doesn’t comment on how the colour of his cheeks is only a shade lighter than the colour of the paste.
“We’ll have to wait until the sun goes down to see if it works,” Annette tells him, and he rolls his eyes.
“I have to keep this stupid stuff on that long?”
“Unfortunately,” she says, stifling a laugh. “Um, how about until then… lunch?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
It’s a good excuse to turn her back on him, to not think about the reasons why he’s smiling like that. When she spots him sitting by himself he always looks so angry, and yet when he speaks with her he acts the opposite. And that matches up with what she’s heard around town about the young lord of the manor – always cold and abrasive, never once caring for the people in the Duchy. It doesn’t quite match up with her impression of Felix, though.
The Felix that Annette has gotten to know in the past few days is a truly odd man, and as much as she would like him out of her house as fast as humanly possible, she wonders if there’s any way he would keep in touch after he leaves. She shakes the thought from her head as she makes a start on lunch – it’s silly to be thinking about such things.
Felix lingers in the kitchen after they’ve finished eating. It looks as though he has something on his mind – other than the ointment of course – and Annette just has to wait patiently for him to begin talking. It doesn’t take long. As soon as she gets up to start washing up, Felix begins to speak.
“I must thank you again for your hospitality.”
“Oh! No problem. It’s the least I can do for you, given your situation.”
“I really am sorry too. For… being an inconvenience like this. I’m sure you have other things to be doing.”
“Nothing that can’t be rearranged,” Annette assures him. As he opens up a little more to her, she feels a little more inclined to be nice to him. Whatever happened with himself and Cornelia’s curse was clearly a terrible ordeal for him to go through – she certainly wouldn’t have wanted to be on the end of one of her curses.
Annette doesn’t know the High Witch well, but she’s well known across the county. Unlike Annette, she is one of those witches, as the townsfolk describe her with a particular venom in their tone. Annette hasn’t met her personally, and every day she counts her blessings. The High Witch used to be a position to aspire to, a person that was revered, but Cornelia has taken that title and used it for her own personal gain and, in Annette’s opinion, for evil.
Briefly, she considers asking Felix how exactly the run in between his father and Cornelia went, and why he was the one caught up in her curse and not her father, a far more obvious target for meddling, but when she glances over at him he’s moved to the window, and stares blankly into her garden.
He stays there for most of the afternoon, and Annette leaves him to his musings. She moves to the living room, settling by the fire with a book. By the time he joins her the fire is almost out, and the last dregs of sunlight disappear. Annette pretends not to watch him out of the corner of her eye, desperate to know if her spell worked. The light disappears from outside, and Felix remains as he is. He raises an eyebrow, but neither of them say a word.
A few minutes later, there’s a loud sound to her left, and Annette looks over to see that Felix has once again reverted to his cat form. She stifles a laugh as he glares up at her with those shiny yellow eyes, and disappears to make dinner for one.
Felix remains asleep for most of the morning, lounging on Annette’s sofa with one hand just gently brushing the tiled floor. It’s rather inconvenient actually – what if Annette had wanted to use the living room? She doesn’t, as it turns out, but she’d still rather have the option.
Instead she sets up for today’s attempt at breaking the curse. This time she’ll try the most simple of methods – a mere incantation. There are many in the book, and Annette reckons if she just lists them off one after another one of them is bound to work on her new friend. When he wakes up, that is.
Eventually she gets bored of waiting for him to wake up, and she sends Crusher in to do her dirty work. Her familiar is more than happy to comply with the instructions, and Annette giggles to herself when she hears Felix’s grumble of discontent followed by Crusher’s familiar laughing bark.
“Why did you send your dog in to me?” Felix asks when he appears at the door to her work room.
“I did no such thing,” Annette bluffs, keeping her gaze firmly on her book. “Crusher must have missed you being up and about! I think he has a soft spot for you.”
“I don’t believe that for a second,” he mutters under his breath. “What’s your idea for today, then?”
“Sit here,” Annette tells him, vacating her wobbly three legged stool for him. As he sits Felix looks less than impressed – clearly not used to such unsophisticated furniture.
“What now?”
“Close your eyes.”
He can’t just do it, he has to raise his eyebrows at her first, to which she just sighs in disappointment, provoking him into closing his eyes. She takes careful, measured steps around him, murmuring the incantation under her breath and forcing herself not to look at Felix, lest she see if he laughs or not.
When she’s done her seven circles clockwise and anticlockwise around him, she comes to a stop directly behind him, dropping her hands heavily onto his shoulders. His muscles tense under her touch, but he doesn’t move, and Annette backs away slowly.
“All done,” she murmurs, and when he turns around to her, illuminated only by the light creeping through a crack in the door, Annette swears she can feel her heart speed up.
“That felt more witchy,” Felix says, effectively breaking the heavy silence that hangs between them.
“I guess. Either way, once again, we have to wait until later to see if it worked or not. For now, I’m sure you’re hungry, so um… I’ll get started on lunch!”
“Let me help,” Felix suggests, earning himself another glare from Annette.
“Absolutely not.”
“Annette, your cooking is terrible. Surely you can taste that.”
“Excuse me! What a horrible thing to say to your host! You know, I was just starting to warm up to you, and now-“
“Let me help,” Felix insists, getting up from the stool. It is now that Annette notices that he is in fact significantly taller than her, and she swallows hard.
“Okay,” she agrees, her voice coming out in a little squeak.
She lets him chop vegetables and bread for sandwiches, and neglects to mention that if her cooking is awful, this isn’t cooking at all. Anyone can assemble ingredients, she grumbles to herself. She fills the kettle with water and puts it over the fire, ready for tea when their sandwiches are done. Usually they sit at the kitchen table, but today Annette feels more like curling up in front of the fire, and Felix obediently follows her, no questions asked.
“Would it help…” he begins, their lunch long gone and the silence just veering into uncomfortable.
“What?”
“Would it help if I told you more about Cornelia?”
“Yes,” Annette answers quickly, desperate for more information about who is essentially her adversary in this matter. If she can figure out how Cornelia’s magic works, perhaps she’ll stand a better chance at countering it.
“Cornelia has three daughters. All of them witches. No husband around, as far as anyone knows at least. My father granted her an audience when she requested it – though no one likes her, as the High Witch she does hold an awful lot of power.”
“I think I know where this might be going,” Annette says with a grimace, one that she can see reflected on Felix’s own face.
“If one of her daughters was married into the Fraldarius family, she would gain even greater power within the country. My father rightfully refused her request for her eldest daughter to marry me. He… has had dealings with arranged marriages before that haven’t ended well. My older brother, for one, engaged to an heiress further south. He died.”
“Is that related to the heiress?”
“No. He just… doesn’t want to… I hate the man, but I see where he’s coming from. I’d rather pull my own eyes out than marry one of Cornelia’s daughters.”
“A perfectly rational response,” Annette nods sagely, and beside her, Felix stifles what she thinks is supposed to be a laugh.
“Is that of any help?”
“I think so,” Annette says, though she’s not sure she likes where her brain is leading her. It’s a rational thought, but one that may be based in slightly-less-rational feelings. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Yeah. No problem.”
A few hours later when the sunsets, earlier than the day before thanks to winter closing in, Felix reverts to his cat form, and Annette lets out a long suffering sigh. There is only one more method for her to try before she has to really resort to deep magic unknown to her, or else Felix will have to accept his condition will remain to the end of either his life or Cornelia’s. The last idea Annette has isn’t ideal, but she steels her nerves, and prepares herself for whatever tomorrow will bring.
“So,” Annette begins, not really sure how to bring this topic of conversation up. Felix pauses, toast halfway to his mouth, before he decides that whatever Annette is going to say can at least be heard over his crunching. “Here’s the thing about curses: they’re basically just… tricks.”
“You’re saying that all this time it’s just been… a magic trick?”
“Well, no. Not really. But essentially, what the curse does is trick your body into thinking that you turned into a cat after sunset every day and that’s a normal part of your life. So what I’m thinking is… we should be able to trick the curse in return… and trick it into not existing, basically.”
“If this was the case the whole time, why didn’t you try it right away?” Felix asks. He sounds a little annoyed, though Annette thinks that he sounds like that all the time.
“It was only last night that I figured it out. Have… um, have a look at this.”
She lifts the tome of spells off the kitchen counter and turns to the page that she reckons will break the curse. Felix reads the passage, and then reads it again, raising his eyebrows. He looks at Annette and back to the book, and then back to Annette.
“True love’s kiss? Really? You think that really exists?”
“A little bit,” she says with a pout. “But what really matters isn’t what you or I believe, it’s about what the curse believes.”
“You’re making less and less sense as time goes on.”
“Okay, here me out. I have a logic, I swear. So say Cornelia’s plan was to force you into marriage with one of her daughters. She curses you, and logically, you end up looking for another witch to counter the curse. If you hadn’t found me, there’s a high chance you would have run into one of her daughters. They try to break the curse – or pretend to at least – and you stay with them for the longest time trying to figure out how to do so.”
“Now I can see where you’re going. I… stay with them, eventually fall in love with some sappy yet conniving witch who was trying her best to break the spell, and then when she kisses me the spell is broken and I let her… marry into the Fraldarius family.”
“Basically,” Annette agrees with a grimace.
“How do I know that’s not what you’re doing?” Felix says, though when Annette looks at him, shocked, he mellows a little. “I mean, I don’t think you are, but… I’d like to be sure.”
“When you explained it, you talked about Cornelia’s daughters playing the long game. I… I don’t think four days is long enough to fall in love with someone,” Annette tells him, though she’s not quite sure of her words, and Felix doesn’t look entirely convinced either.
“So how will it work then?”
“We can just pretend. The curse is tricking you, we trick it right back. Though I do think the kissing is kind of an essential part, so…”
“So you need to kiss me.”
Annette hums in agreement, barely able to keep her eyes on Felix. It sounds ridiculous when she says it out loud, even though she was up half the night trying to work out if her seemingly ridiculous plan would even work.
“Well then, you should just… get on with it.”
Felix stands, holding his arms out to her. She’s never seen someone asking for a kiss look so awkward, but regardless, she stands too, making her way into his arms. His hands find their place on her waist, surprisingly strong and steady, keeping her grounded. Annette reaches up to place her hands on his shoulders, and finally braves a look at him.
“If this has any chance of working, you have to kiss me back.”
“I will,” he agrees, and Annette leans in.
To Felix’s credit, he does kiss her back. And to Felix’s credit, he is a surprisingly good kisser, not that Annette has masses of experience in the field. He kisses her like he genuinely means it, and at the back of Annette’s mind a little flutter starts, wondering if he does mean it. Even as she begins to pull away Felix chases her, not content with ending their embrace just yet, and Annette manages a smile against his lips.
Eventually he does pull away, though his hands remain on her. He stares, blankly, and Annette can’t help but wonder what on earth he’s going to say next. But then he takes a large step back and shakes his head.
“And now we wait.”
Unable to even bare looking at Felix, Annette takes up residence by the window while he paces in the back garden. She watches into the street, hoping that there will be a few passers-by that she can wave to. But no one goes past, and lunch time comes. Felix makes food while she’s lost in her thoughts, and she manages a smile when he sets a plate down on the windowsill. He opens his mouth as if he was going to say something, but thinks better of it and disappears once more.
After a while a fox goes past. Annette rarely sees them during the day, and smiles to herself. A little while later there are a few hares, but she doesn’t get to look at them for a long time as Felix returns from his wandering to sit by the fire. She retrieves her letter writing set, and not wanting to be anti-social, sits by Felix’s side on the sofa to pen a letter to Mercedes about all the strange things that have happened this week.
Eventually she has to set her now pages long letter aside, the light from outside not enough to allow her to see. It’s gotten completely dark, and with a flick of her wrist, Annette turns the lamp on. Felix blinks in the brighter light, and by his feet, Crusher lets out a long whine.
“It’s okay boy, dinner will be ready soon. I’ll go start on it now.”
She makes it half way towards the kitchen door before she freezes, and turns back, and notices that Felix is looking at her with the exact same expression that she can feel on her own face. He jumps to his feet, and Crusher barks in excitement, running between the two of them.
“I’m not a cat,” Felix murmurs.
“You’re not a cat!”
This is a situation that neither of them really know how to react to, so Annette simply grins, and turns on her heel to go into the kitchen. This is the first dinner she’ll cook for human Felix, and though she’s well aware of what he thinks about her cooking, she’s determined to make it good for him anyway. Felix follows her, and leans against the counter as she gets to work.
“Thank you,” he says quietly, like he can’t quite believe the words coming out of his mouth.
“It was my pleasure.”
“I’m glad I found you, and not anyone else.” He can barely look at her, and when Annette spares a glance in his direction she has to try her best not to laugh, his face red. It’s a confession of sorts, she supposes, and one that she is ever so glad to hear.
“I’ve really enjoyed these last few days,” she admits. “It’s been nice to have someone else around, you know? It gets a little lonely sometimes.”
Felix nods, and Annette gets the vague sense that he’s planning something.
Felix leaves the next morning, after a night of sleeping on the sofa once more, but this time as himself. Annette wasn’t expecting him to stay, but she can’t help but feel a little sad. He’s been here for less than a week, and yet Annette already feels like Felix belongs there, curled up in one corner of her sofa.
“I’ll be back in a few days with your payment,” he promises at the door when she stops to see him off.
“Okay. I’m just glad you’re better now.”
“Me too. But of course, that doesn’t negate the fact that you spent four days of your life looking after me. That in itself deserves a tidy sum, one that I’m sure my father will be willing to pay.”
“I’m sure. Um… you’re welcome back here any time, you know. If you just fancy a cup of tea or something, and I’m sure Crusher will be happy to see you again too!” Annette offers, and for once, Felix smiles, a relaxed look that she’s not sure she’s seen on his face before.
“I’d be happy to. And of course, I’ll extend that invitation to you as well. I’m sure my father would be pleased to meet the woman who saved my life.”
“I couldn’t go to the manor,” Annette laughs. “I don’t think that… I’d be very out of place.”
“Then I’ll have to come here until you feel like you’d fit in,” Felix says, turning his head away to hide the dusting of pink across his cheeks.
“I do hope to see you again,” Annette admits quietly, reaching out to take one of Felix’s hand. “And don’t worry, I won’t curse you to make you come back.”
“I think you already have,” Felix murmurs, squeezing her hand just a little.
“No, I would never, I-“
“I feel a pain in my chest when I think of you, and I feel it even more acutely now that I have to leave you.”
“Oh! Felix, I…”
“I’ll be back in a few days,” he reiterates quickly, that smile appearing once again. “I look forward to seeing you again.”
“Of course,” she says, letting him go. “I’ll keep an eye out for you.”
Annette stands on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek, giggling when she spots how red Felix turns from the action. She stands at the end of her path and watches him go, waving all the time until he disappears over the crest of the hill. She manages to take a deep breath, and marches back inside, calling for the raven, to finish penning that letter to Mercedes about how her story has ended.