“She is utterly terrifying. You will piss yourself.” Ágota smirks.
“I will not. She is my kin!” Albrecht fidgets with the hilt of his sword and appears to ponder Ágota’s remark. “What does she look like? Is she awful somehow?”
Ágota lifts a shoulder. “She is very, very white. Everything about her is white. Hair, eyes, skin... even her gown. You can barely look upon her because she glows brighter than the moon.”
“I covered my eyes with my hands,” I confess, and that is all I truly remember about the encounter.
A few nights ago, Ágota and I had been sleeping in the high boughs of a tree when I was awakened by a bright light. Raising my head, I had observed what at first I believed to be the moon plummeting from the sky. The shimmering orb of light halted its descent beside us, hovering majestically. Staring in awe, I noticed there was a woman in the center of the sphere. I had only a few seconds to observe her beauty before the presence of the fey rendered me into unconsciousness. I awoke hours later when the sun broke the horizon to find Ágota nervously pacing around the base of the tree. I had no recollection of the conversation between The White Woman of the Wood and Ágota, which my sister said was for the best because she was truly terrifying.
I doubt that Albrecht would fare much better in the presence of such a creature. He appears to be as mortal as I. Assuming I am mortal. I might manifest magic when I reach adulthood.
Albrecht regards us with contempt. “Well, I have her blood in my veins. I doubt I would cower in front of her.”
“I did not cower. She was just very bright,” I say, bristling. I deliberately do not tell him I swooned before her.
“This was such a nice visit,” Ágota says with exaggerated pleasantness. “A shame you must depart so we can sleep.”
Albrecht scowls in response. “I want to show Erzsébet my sword. You really should not be so suspicious.”
Ágota places her hands upon her hips, her fingers moving in very precise motions against her skirt. Albrecht glares at her, appearing not to notice her gesticulations.
“You trespassed in our room—”
“This is a room in my house.”
“—to show my sister a sword given to you by someone you’ve never met—”
“But I will one day.”
“—and you expect me not to be suspicious?”
I am rather impressed that Albrecht is not in the least intimidated by Ágota. She can look very fierce when she desires to intimidate someone. Instead, he stands tall and regards her with a very calm demeanor. Only his dark eyes flash with indignation.
“Be suspicious all you like, Ágota. I told you why I am here.”
“I suspect you are a liar.” Ágota sneers at him. “Your too-pretty face is not so innocent.”
“Your attitude is why I would rather marry her than you. I do not like you,” Albrecht answers, surprising us.
“What?” Ágota’s eyes flare with indignation. “Who said anything about you marrying me or my sister?”
With a knowing smile upon his lips, Albrecht deftly takes the upper hand in the conversation. “My father. He hopes to negotiate a marriage contract with your father. He said I could choose one of you. I prefer Erzsébet. She’s pretty and not so insolent.”
Ágota’s face flushes crimson. “Is that why he wants me to deliver his message to my father? To arrange a marriage?”
“He wants a letter of introduction so he can create an alliance with your father.” Albrecht shrugs. “It is not irregular. A political marriage in the future would be a wise move for both our fathers.”
“Why would your father want you to marry me? I am not noble.” I am utterly surprised at this development for my fears have centered on the possibility of being stalked and bitten by the vampire, or turned into a boar, not discovering I was a potential bride for a young aristocrat.
“You are witches. Father is saddened by the loss of magic in our bloodline. He wants me to marry a woman who will restore powers to our family.”
“Marry one of your fey cousins then,” Ágota sniffs.
“I cannot. The fey are forbidden to sire any more children with humans. Their numbers are dwindling, so they have to preserve their bloodlines. My father says humans are destroying magic bit by bit.”
Ágota grunts in agreement. “They are a sordid lot.”
Albrecht pointedly steps to one side so he can view me without Ágota blocking his way. “Would you like to see my sword?”