Secrets and lies.

The Witch's Daughter: Chapter 9. Prendergast’s secret is revealed. Hilde goes to the Priory and lies her way in. While waiting a chilling surprise visitor arrives.

Deep in the moist green cleft — a rocky forest valley, framed on all sides by oaks — the couple walked as wild juniper and bilberries gathered about the cloister of boughs like bunting at a banquet. Lazily a butterfly chanced through a ray of early morning sunshine that filtered down between the leaves, the woman pointing it out and laughing. Motes circled it, an escort of fae sprites, until it floated under the canopy and out of sight.

The couple walked slowly, the man scuffing up leaves, the woman tugging at his sleeve sharing a jest that didn’t need words to say. They rounded a bend in the gallery of moss-covered rocks and willows, and stretching in front of them lay a small carpet of bluebells.

“For you my darling,” he said, stooping to snatch up a few in a bunch to present to her. His blonde hair caught the sun too, and she reached out to touch it, a look of wonder on her face. She caught herself and took the flowers.

Her long curly black hair shone with red lights, in the morning light. Silver combs that pulled her locks back from her face on each side glinted in the hazy light of that glade. Her long velvet red gown against pale skin, dark green cloak fixed with an ornate silver pin; all against the green palette of the forest made her almost luminous in her appearance. Prendergast’s mouth opened, and then shut again.

“My Lord Prendergast, so generous that you give me my kingdoms own flowers,” she said, mirth curling the corners of her mouth. “Say ‘darling’ again; I love your strange way of speaking.”

Landscape with trees and hills. © Sarah Smith 2025

“Darling, its not your kingdom yet,” Prendergast responded, snapping out of his reverie, and nodding his head toward the motte-and-bailey manor away to their left through the trees. “Unless daddy dearest passed away in yon castle overnight, and I hope not given he and I have more business in the future.”

He traced her jawline with an index finger, then settled his hand on his sword, his slab-like cheeks and impassive expression at odds with his tender gestures.

Prendergast tried to move toward her, but she poked him with a finger in his shoulder, finding a gap in his leather armour. A darkness passed behind his eyes, for a moment, but then passed. “Let me kiss you. Don’t walk so fast.”