Silverlake

Madoc was not a rich man. But one couldn’t say he was exactly poor since he always had food. Though most of the time that meant bread and milk, he was never hungry, and sometimes he even had a little extra to buy meat. Probably the best way to describe him would be a poor man who knew how to budget. He was contented, however, and earned a good reputation in the little village he lived in. Madoc was a skilled sculptor.

Everything started with a letter that morning. Young Madoc was up early, as usual, and was just about to set himself to work on an angel statue he was sculpting for the village cemetery when his eyes fell upon a folded piece of parchment on his workbench. He picked it up and read it. The letter was concise:

My Lord Madoc,

I wish you to sculpt for me a life-sized statue of the Princess Arianwen. You will be paid handsomely for it.

Yours,
Silverlake

“This Silverlake is a suitor of the Princess Arianwen, no doubt.” The sculptor thought to himself. “Come to think of it, the Princess has just recently come of marrying age.”

The problem was, except for a very short glimpse during the Town Fair, Madoc had never seen the Princess. Thinking the good Silverlake would most likely pay him a visit to give him more instructions, he put the job aside and continued his work on the angel.

That evening, he went to have a drink at the local village pub. Some friends were there. They had a few glasses, had a few laughs, then talk turned to work.
“Any new projects going on, young Madoc?” Lando, the blacksmith, asked.
“As a matter of fact, a new job has come my way. I am being commissioned to sculpt the Princess Arianwen.”
“You’re moving up, aren’t you, Madoc? To think a nobleman would go out of his way to visit your little hut to have you make the sculpture!”
“Well, that’s the curious bit, actually. He didn’t really come. I just woke up and there was a letter waiting for me on my workbench! But I have no doubt it is from a nobleman seeking the hand of the Princess.”
“What’s his name?”
“Silverlake.”
At the mention of the name, the entire pub went silent.

“What’s the matter?” The sculptor asked, bewildered.
“Silverlake isn’t a man, and she is certainly not noble.” Lando replied gravely.
“She’s a witch, Silverlake, and a dark one at that!” Another man said.
“Rumors tell of how she killed her late husband because she found him with another woman. Nothing’s been proven, but everyone knows how she spelled him to vomit until he died.” Another, a farmer, said.
“I heard she put a curse on a young count once, so that he will never be able to sleep. Now the count is all haggard and wasted, tired but not ever able to find rest. All because she claims he was rude to her.” A woman in the pub put in.
“That Silverlake is bad news, Madoc.” The farmer warned him. “She’s up to no good, and I have a feeling she’s planning something evil for the young Princess.”
“Then I must decline this job.” Madoc said.
“Sure,” Lando said. “If you want her to kill you, too.” And he took a swig of his beer, only to drop his mug and spit the drink out almost immediately. Only this time, it was no longer beer… but blood.

Lando backed away in shock. Everyone else just stared in horror at the red liquid spilling on the table from the overturned mug.
“She hears.” Lando whispered.


Poor Madoc was shaking when he arrived home. But his fear only grew, for when he looked at his workbench, there was another letter.
Trembling, he took the letter and read it:

My Lord Madoc,

I would be eternally grateful if you accepted my commission. I will give you, in return, anything you ask for.

Yours,
Silverlake

“Nobody refuses a witch. She’ll hex me if I did.” Madoc thought to himself.

He sat down and stared at the letter on his table.
“What if I asked for something absurd, something she can’t give me? Maybe she’ll withdraw her request if I asked for something unreasonable as payment.”
And so Madoc took a pen and paper, and wrote his reply:

My Lady Silverlake,

In your last letter, you said you were willing to give me anything I asked for. I ask then for your hand, and with it, your sincere and genuine love and submission to me. If you are able to give me this, then I will be honored to sculpt for you.

Your humble servant,
Madoc

Madoc re-read his masterpiece.
“A witch would never be capable of giving genuine love.” He said. “And she would never submit to anyone. And no noblewoman in their right mind would marry a lowly sculptor like me.”
Madoc folded the letter, put it on his workbench, and tidied up for the night. He was feeling a lot better now. He even ventured to whistle while he fixed up. But he stopped dead when he heard the drop of parchment on wood. He turned slowly and, as he expected, there was a new letter on the workbench.
With hope and dread, he opened the letter. To his utter despair, it read:

My Lord Madoc,

I accept your proposal. Once you complete the statue, I am yours, then and forever. I will send a vision of the Princess in your dream tonight so that you can start work on the statue by tomorrow. Don’t be alarmed if the Princess does not behave as you would normally expect. Dreams are never normal. And what I will be sending you is only a vision of the Princess, and not the real Princess herself.

Silverlake

Madoc found it very hard to sleep that night. He had not just condemned the Princess to whatever evil this witch was planning for her, but he had sealed his own fate as well! True, they said the witch didn’t look so bad. In fact, they said she was beautiful, in a dangerous kind of way. She was said to have long straight black hair, and pale white skin. Her eyes, though, looked like purple ice, and was said to freeze the hearts of whoever saw them. Fine, she may be pretty, but she had to be around ten years older than he was! And she was a witch!
He found sleep anyway, after a while. In his dream, he found himself on his workbench. The Princess sat on a stool before him. She looked like the Princess. Only, it didn’t quite seem like the Princess. True, the face sort of looked the same, she had the same golden locks, and the height and proportion looked correct. But she didn’t act like Princess Arianwen. The King’s daughter was a happy, lively child. This girl was reserved and serious.
Madoc took paper and pencil, and started to sketch the Princess. He did the basic full-body sketch of the Princess, and drew some studies of the Princess’ hands. Then he proceeded to sketching the face. But he suddenly stopped. The Princess did not have the beautiful hazel eyes she was known for. Instead, her irises were pale purple rimmed with a black circle.
Madoc dropped his pencil and paper in surprise.
“You’re the witch!” He exclaimed as he backed away as far from her as possible.
The Princess laughed. “So you see through me. It’s the eyes, isn’t it? I can change into any shape that I want, but I am never able to change my eyes into what I wish.” The witch looked at the sculptor, amused. “A witch, is it? I’ve been called that.”
“I-I-I mean L-Lady Silverlake. I-I didn’t mean to-to…”
“Offend me? None taken.” The girl crossed her legs, put her right elbow on the table and rested her chin on her right hand. “I had, however, chosen you for this job because I thought you wouldn’t know about me.”
“I-I didn’t, but—”
“Your friends at the pub told you about me. I know, I was there. You mustn’t take my little beer-to-blood trick too hard. I just wanted to teach them how you shouldn’t be talking about people behind their backs.”
“M-might I ask what you wish to do with the Princess Arianwen?” The sculptor ventured to ask.
“You already have. But I regret to say, I can’t tell you. You’re a very honest man. You would never be able to keep it secret.”
Madoc didn’t know whether to be flattered or offended by the statement.
“Have you all the sketches you want?” The witch asked.
“F-for the moment. But I still need to study the Princess further to be able to add details.”
“Then I shall come again tomorrow.”
“Wait,” He called just as the dream was fading. “Your eyes are sharper than the Princess’. What do you wish me to do with the sculpture’s eyes?”
“Close them. Princess Arianwen will not need to open them anymore when you complete your sculpture.” And the dream vanished.

Madoc woke up in cold sweat.
“So the witch does intend to kill the Princess.”

He went to his workbench and found a letter from the witch. On top of which was a small pouch filled with gold, silver and copper. He gulped. “Blood money.” He thought. He unfolded the letter.

My Lord Madoc,

I hope this will be enough to cover any expenses you would incur.

Silverlake

At first, Madoc was hesitant to start on the statue. But once he started, he couldn’t stop. And he didn’t have it in his heart to make anything less than perfect. Making the Princess was a beautiful project. And he forgot everything when he worked on it. He forgot lunch. He forgot that it was the daughter of the king he was sculpting. And he forgot that it was a witch he was making it for. All that ran in his mind was that he was making something beautiful. When he finally put down his tools, it was supper time.
He ate at the village pub. Lando, the blacksmith, looked a bit surprised that the young sculptor was still alive.
“What happened to the project with the witch?” He asked.
Madoc could not answer. He felt guilty at having accepted the witch’s project, and also fearful that she might be at the pub again. “I-I’m still thinking of what to do about it.”
“You’re a bad liar, Madoc. The fact that you’re still alive means you’ve accepted it.”
“Please, don’t condemn me just yet, Lando.” Madoc whispered pleadingly. “I-I was pushed to do it.”
“Hey, I can’t say I wouldn’t do what you did if I was in your shoes.”
The rest of supper was spent in quiet thought.
“What do you hope to do, then?” Lando asked finally.
“I don’t know yet. For now, I guess I just have to go with the flow. She can’t do anything until the statue is completed anyway.”

And so, every night, the witch would come to him in a dream, looking like the Princess Arianwen, and the sculptor would sketch her.
“Y-you don’t have to stay still.” Madoc told her one night. “Unlike in painting where an artist must capture your one good side, as a sculptor, I have to capture all of your sides.”
“Oh, thank goodness.” The witch said with relief. “I’m beginning to get stiff with all this posing every night.”
The sculptor continued to sketch. But he felt rather awkward, though, since the witch, who had again crossed her leg and rested her chin on her hand, was also studying him. Madoc blushed.
The witch laughed. “You know what I’ve noticed? The only time you’re not stuttering is when you’re talking about your work.”
“I-I’m sorry—”
“No need to be. I find it adorable.”
Madoc blushed even more.
“S-so, w-what does a lady of your… profession do?” Madoc asked, venturing to start a conversation.
“Oh, the usual, spells, charms. People come to me with a problem, I solve it, I get paid.”
“S-so, the thing you’re doing to the Princess is… one of those jobs?”
“You’re still interested in her? What, you’re thinking that if you spoil my plans and tell the king that his greatest enemy, Silverlake, is plotting against his daughter, he’ll maybe marry you off to her? And maybe give you half the kingdom while he’s at it? Believe me, it’s safer for you not to know what I’m planning.”
“I-I wasn’t implying that!” Poor man as he was, his honor was still offended that someone would actually think he could even dream of such a thought. “I have no intention of marrying the Princess, and I would never speak to my future bride with the thought of marrying someone other than herself.”
Madoc blushed a little at what he had just said. But Silverlake smiled, not unkindly. And the dream ended.


While Madoc, the sculptor, worked on his stone Princess, the real Princess Arianwen had been busy receiving suitors. She had suitors from neighboring kingdoms as well as from far away lands. She had suitors who were dukes, counts, princes and even kings. The Princess, however, was picky, and she would not make her choice quite so easily. But clearly, she enjoyed all the attention she was getting. She was beautiful, rich and powerful. And she knew it.
“The Princess may be getting married soon.” The sculptor said to his client.
“Yes, well, that’s all they’re good for.” Silverlake replied.
Madoc was a little taken aback. Silverlake was clearly the type who spoke her mind with no hesitation at all. But he could not counter her statement. He could not remember any incident in the kingdom’s history when a princess did any more than that.
“You are offended by my way of speech?” The girl asked.
“N-no, it’s just a little new to me to hear a girl speak like this. I find it… adorable.”
It was Silverlake’s turn to blush.
“Tell me what you did today.” Silverlake said.
“Today, well, I… I woke up at around six.”
“You wake up so early.”
“I think you wake up even earlier, my lady, considering that your letters are always already on my workbench when I awake.”
“I send it there before I sleep.”          
“Then you must be a late sleeper. After I got my daily dose of instruction from you, I set to work. And I worked until around five in the afternoon.”
“What about lunch?”
“I forgot. When I work, I usually forget about everything.”
“My, what a very hardworking young man! And then what did you do?”
“I took a walk outside. The flowers are in full bloom right now.”
“How wonderful. I love flowers. What kind of flowers did you see?” She now sounded as young as the Princess.
“I don’t know their names. But there were huge ones and small ones, white ones, red ones, blue ones and pink ones. Don’t you have flowers near your place?”
“We do but they are so… tamed. I like the wild ones, unhindered and unshaped by gardeners.”

The next day, while Madoc was working on the hands of his sculpture, he heard a clank behind him. He turned around and saw a plate filled with food rich enough to rival the king’s own meal. Beside it was a goblet of what he knew would be the best wine he would ever have tasted in his life. Under the goblet was the familiar folded parchment that told Madoc who the feast was from. Madoc picked up the parchment and smiled.

Nights went by. Silverlake’s visitations were now a normal thing to Madoc. Every night, they would talk while he sketched her. They would talk about his day, her job, their views on the current events of the kingdom, and anything else that interested them.

By this time, the Princess Arianwen had received a new suitor. He was a handsome and powerful young king of a kingdom beyond the sea. King Caradoc, as he was called seemed to be an old acquaintance of the Princess. They had studied in the same boarding school a few years back.
Also at this time, Madoc was just finishing the details of the body and was now ready to start on the face.

“What are all these?” Silverlake exclaimed when she saw flowers of different colors and sizes in little pots at her feet.
“You said you loved flowers. I thought it would make you more comfortable.”
“Thank you,” She said, but she seemed a bit troubled.
“I thought you would be pleased.”
“I am! It’s just that, the arrival of this new suitor is troubling me.”
“You do not wish the Princess to marry him?”
“That part is not a problem. Her father would never allow it. Caradoc is a warlock. The king hates magic-users.”
“But what if the Princess loves him?”
“Do you think the marriages of Princesses in the past were their choice? Of course not, it was the king’s choice. A Princess is bound to marry whoever the king thinks would benefit most to the kingdom. No, that is not a problem. But, as I said, Caradoc is a warlock, and a powerful one. I am worried he might detect what I’m doing.”
Madoc suddenly remembered that this witch was planning something evil for the Princess. For the past few nights, he had forgotten this and had only thought of what he was doing as ordinary work. He felt a little guilty.
“My Lord Madoc, I may have to go away for a while. Have you all the sketches you need to finish the face?” Silverlake asked.
“Y-yes, I believe so.”
“Then work on it as fast as you can.” And she turned to leave the dream.
“Wait!” He said. “How long will you be gone?”
“A week.”

The next day, there was no letter for him.
“No new instructions,” he thought.
He looked upon the figure of the Princess. This was his last chance. He could maybe stall until King Caradoc could find out about the witch’s plot. Or maybe he could break the figure and tell the witch there was an accident. But he found himself doing the face anyway.
That evening found him back at the village pub.
“Hey, heard the Princess is sick!” Lando said to him. “Did the witch do anything?”
“I don’t think so. I haven’t finished the sculpture yet.”
“Do you intend to finish it?”
“…I don’t know.”

But the young sculptor continued working on the statue. The days went by. The face became more detailed. The Princess became sicker. And there was still no sign of the witch. A week had gone by. Then two weeks. The Princess had become worse. But the sculptor didn’t look too good, either.
“The Princess is getting worse by the day!” Lando told him. “This has to be the work of that witch!”
“No, I told you, she hasn’t done anything yet.” Madoc replied. He was tired.
“Goodness, Madoc!” Lando exclaimed when he saw the sculptor’s haggard face. “What happened to you? The bags around your eyes are darker than my boots!”
“I… just haven’t been sleeping well lately.”
“It’s the doing of the witch, I tell you!”
“Stop calling her that!” Madoc said, irritated. “It is not her fault because, the truth is, I haven’t seen her for more than a fortnight already! No letters, no dreams, nothing.”
Lando stood, shocked.
“Goodness, Madoc!” He exclaimed.
“What?”
“She really has got you.”
“I told you already—”
“I’m not talking about some spell. You’re in love with her.”
Madoc paled.


“I am not in love with her!” He said to himself when he returned home. “How could I be in love with a witch? Anyone in my position would lose sleep, too. I am nearing the completion of the statue, and I have to decide whether I am willing to throw my life away for the sake of the Princess, who would still die anyway because Lady Silverlake could always get another sculptor to make the Princess for her.”
He looked at the statue. It was almost complete. Just a little bit more on the left side of the face, then polishing, then he was done.
The Princess never did anything to him. How could he possibly let her die? How could he ever bring himself to betray this witty young woman whose laugh brought life to his dreary existence?
Madoc gasped as he snatched his hand away from the statue. He had been caressing its face: the face he had never seen as Princess Arianwen but as the fierce and dangerous Lady Silverlake.


He was, however, about to see how very different the two ladies were from each other the very next day. Princess Arianwen had taken a drive with King Caradoc that afternoon. She had been feeling a little better, and her father suggested getting some fresh air.
Princess Arianwen was feeling a little tired and so, the young King asked the nearest house for some water for her.
“I-I’m sorry, the place is so messy. I-I didn’t think anyone would be stopping by my place today.” Madoc stammered as the King Caradoc and Princess Arianwen entered his house. He had covered the statue with a cloth.
“That’s quite alright, my good man. The Princess only needs a little time to sit and rest.” Caradoc said, quite pleasantly.
Madoc took a stool and offered it to the Princess.
“U-um, uh, is it alright to sit outside? I…I need the fresh air.” She said. She was clearly trying to word her sentences politely. But Madoc could see that she was not in the least comfortable to be in such a poor and tiny place.
“Of course, Princess, I shall take the stool to the garden. Shall I get you some water?” Madoc asked humbly.
“Oh, no. That will not be necessary. I realized I’m not really thirsty after all.”

The young King accompanied the Princess outside for a while. Madoc was quite surprised to see him back inside moments later.
“I apologize if the Princess offended you.” He said.
“Oh, no, not at all.” Although, Madoc did think the Princess was a little haughty. He was used to see that image on a personality that was quite comfortable with him.
“What are you working on?” Caradoc asked when he saw the cloth-covered project.
“Oh, just a…an angel… for the village cemetery.”
“Like this one?” He pointed to the one Madoc had already finished.
“Y-yes, only a different pose.”
“May I see it?”
“Oh, uh, not yet. I wish to finish it first before I show it to anyone.”
Caradoc smiled. “I understand.” He looked around and saw the other statues Madoc had made. “You sculpt very well.”
“T-thank you, your majesty.”
“Can you sculpt real people, too?”
“I believe so, your majesty.”
“Well then, when I have need for a sculptor, I’ll know who to come to. Magic requires statues sometimes. I do magic, you see.”
Madoc was a little surprised.
“Does it surprise you that I do magic?” Caradoc asked.
“Actually, it surprised me that you admit it so openly.”
“I see people around here don’t.”
“W-what…kind of spells can you do with statues? I-if…if his majesty doesn’t mind me asking.”
“Not at all. Well, a strong magic-user can animate statues. I’ve done that once. It is very useful in a war.”
“What about statues that look like actual people?”
“Well, you can basically make them do the same things you would make statues that don’t look like actual people do. But aside from that, you can also bind a person to a statue.”
“Bind?”
“Yes, what you make the statue do, the actual person will also do.”
“I see.”
“Well, the Princess and I had better be going. It has been nice knowing you, sir.”
“The honor is mine, your majesty.”


A few days later, the young King was back at Madoc’s little house.
“I am concerned with the Princess Arianwen.” He said. “She is sick again, and there are rumors that a witch called Silverlake may be responsible for this.”
“Y-you shouldn’t listen to all the rumors you hear.”
The young King thought for a while. Then he said, “I need you to do something for me, for the safety of the Princess.”
“Of course, your majesty. What do you need?”
“I need you to mold the Princess for me.”
“The Princess? But what do you intend to do?”
“The witch will likely do something to the Princess. I will battle the witch through Arianwen.”
“You’re using the Princess as some sort of battlefield?!”
“No, it’s not like that. I will protect Arianwen this way.”
Madoc thought about it. This was his chance. He may not have it in him to stop the witch directly, but he could give the Princess a fighting chance by helping Caradoc. However, he found himself saying, “I’m sorry. The Lady Silverlake is a powerful being. I dare not be involved.”
Caradoc’s pleasant expression turned dark.
“I, too, am sorry I have to make you do this.” He said gravely.
Suddenly, Madoc found his hands moving by themselves.
“Stop this, please!” Madoc pleaded.
But Caradoc was unrelenting. Madoc’s mind suddenly gave in to the task. For a few hours, he molded clay into a two-foot figure of the Princess. When he was done, he felt himself thrown forcefully on the table as the spell left him.
Caradoc picked up the finished figure of the Princess.
“Thank you. And just for added protection,” Caradoc waved his hand.
Madoc felt another spell fall upon him. Caradoc smiled, satisfied. Then he left.

Madoc sat shaking. It was only now that everything that had happened was sinking into him. He knew he should be happy that now the game was even. But he felt that he had to tell Silverlake what had happened. He took a paper and pen and tried to write to Silverlake. But he couldn’t do it. The spell, he thought. Caradoc had put a spell on him that prevented him from letting the witch know.
The dream, however, came that night. Silverlake was as troubled as he was, but for a different reason.
“The king is marrying her to Caradoc! Tomorrow night!”
“But, I thought the king hated magic-users.”
“Well, it appears he made an exception. Have you finished the statue?”
“Yes, I have.” He replied, looking down.

Silverlake noticed how he said this. She knelt down before him and took his hands in hers.
“Don’t feel sad.” She said kindly. “You will not be blamed for whatever happens to the Princess. I will make sure of that.”
“Lady Silverlake, I have to tell you something.”
“Then tell me.”
He tried. But the words just wouldn’t come out.
Frustrated, he shouted, “Don’t go on with this! King Caradoc… The Princess—”
“You’re still siding with Arianwen?! I can’t believe you! She was so rude and haughty towards you the last time she was here, and you still want to save her?!”
“How did you know she was here?”
“That’s not important! It offends me that you still want to help her, just because she is the Princess!”
“It’s not like that!”
“I should have known. It doesn’t matter to you even if she looks down on you. She’s the Princess and she’ll always get away with it!”
Suddenly, the young sculptor found himself locking the witch in a kiss that surprised even himself. He felt a current, a different type of magic, spread all over him, making him not want to let her go. He felt Silverlake shiver in his arms, but she made no effort to push him away. The act apparently surprised her as much as it had surprised him.
When Madoc released her, she was speechless and red all over.
“I don’t want you to get hurt.” He said.
“N-nonsense,” She tried to laugh. “I won’t get hurt.”
He saw that the kiss was still affecting her. She couldn’t look him straight in the eye.
“I-I shall take the statue first thing in the morning.”
And the dream ended.

And then what? Was she coming back to him after whatever she was planning? Will she be able to? In frustration, that morning, Madoc swept everything off his workbench with his arm. Everything went cluttering on the floor. And the poor sculptor wept. He wept of fatigue, of the mental tiredness his conscience was giving him. He wept of frustration for wanting to save his beloved witch but not being able to even warn her. He wept of anger at the thought that a smooth-talking warlock-king had forced him to go against Silverlake. But Caradoc had only made a figure of the Princess Arianwen. He could never touch Silverlake because no one really knew how she looked like, not even Madoc. Then why was he feeling so anxious for the witch? Was it because the image of the Princess was the only image he knew as Silverlake?
What if…
Madoc looked at the floor. He saw the marble bits he had made from sculpting the life-sized figure of Princess Arianwen. He saw the little bits of hardened clay that he had sanded off the two-foot tall figure of Princess Arianwen he had made for Caradoc. Silverlake didn’t need a life-sized version of the Princess to control her. And she certainly didn’t need a statue to kill her.
Then he remembered how Silverlake disliked the Princess. Well, not really the Princess Arianwen herself, but the post of being a Princess.
Madoc paled at the realization. How he had been so blind!
“I’ve just condemned my Lady Silverlake.” He whispered to himself sadly.
But no, there was still time. If he wanted Silverlake, he had to fight for her. He had a little bit of time. The Princess was not to marry Caradoc until evening. He had a plan.


The Princess’ wedding was a big and joyous event. Everyone who was someone in the kingdom was there. It was not easy for Madoc to enter up to the chapel where the Princess Arianwen and King Caradoc were to be married. For one, commoners were not normally permitted. But Caradoc had seen him, and had given the guards special orders to admit him.
The Princess looked stunning in her long white dress. Under the veil, he saw that she was happy. But he knew her joy was not due to the wedding.
The ceremonies began and went on without event until the saying of the vows. Caradoc said his “I do.” But when Arianwen’s turn came, she smiled a fiendish smile and said, “No, I d—”
She didn’t finish her sentence. Madoc had seen her eyes lightening. She was about to switch herself with her statue. But Caradoc had seen the building of the spell, too. And stopped her before she could say, “I don’t.” An invisible hand seemed to be choking her.
“I knew it was you who was behind all this.” Caradoc said with a smile. “This magic-user, Silverlake, had to be either you or an accomplice. And since your young sculptor didn’t have an ounce of magic in him, then I must conclude that it was you.”
“L-let go of me.” The Princess whispered, trying to get free of the invisible hand that clutched at her throat.
“No, not until you marry me. It’s all political, I know, but that’s the life of a Princess. Fairy Tales are just wishful thinking, no truth in them. Princesses marry to strengthen kingdoms, not to live happily ever after.”
“I d-do not want this life!”
“Too bad.”
And Caradoc controlled her to kneel beside him. The Princess fought with all her might.
“H-how are you…able to do this?”
“Ah, you should thank your young sculptor over there. He made the small clay statue that allows me to control you.”

Madoc had come forward, and nobody had any nerve to intervene. The Princess turned a hurt look upon the sculptor.
“I…trusted you.” She said.
He tried to explain that he was put in a spell, but again, the spell prevented him from telling her. “I had no choice.” Madoc said desperately.
“A nice twist, isn’t it, Arainwen? Or should I say, Silverlake?”
Tears fell from the Princess’ face as she turned back to the altar.
“Now, Princess, say, ‘I do’.” Caradoc commanded.
“I…”
But that was as far as she went. The sculptor had covered her mouth and embraced her. Then in her ear, he whispered, “Please, my Lady, believe me. I had no choice. But trust me, just this one more time.”
She could not speak. But he felt her cheek touch his neck reassuringly.
“I must ask you to lend me your powers.” He whispered.

Arianwen suddenly threw Madoc aside. Caradoc laughed.
“Was that me, or Arianwen, can you tell?”
Madoc stood straight and took out a foot-tall clay figure of Caradoc. “No, but you will.” And he put a hand over the small statue.
Caradoc was alarmed. He found himself taking out his two-foot statue of Arianwen that he had concealed under his robes. Caradoc fought for control over his own body, and over Arianwen’s.
“I am a powerful warlock!” He cried. “You cannot defeat me!” He let out a roar.
Madoc concentrated hard. He had never strained his mind quite as much as he did now. But then he had never wanted anything, or anyone, in this case, so badly in his life. It took him all his willpower to stop Caradoc from commanding anything to the statue of the Princess.
The Princess was wailing. Her face was contorted in pain. She was using all she had, sheer willpower, to keep in control.
Finally, Madoc was able to have the warlock lift up the statue.
“No!” He shouted.
“Yes!” Madoc shouted louder. And the warlock knew it was futile to resist.
“Who are you?!” He asked in awe and anger.
“I am Silverlake.” The sculptor replied, and had the warlock throw the statue of the Princess to the floor, where it shattered into a thousand pieces.
The impact of release of the mental tug-of-war they were caught in flung the warlock’s consciousness deep into him, and he fell down unconscious.
The Princess, too, collapsed in exhaustion.
Madoc quickly took the Princess in his arms.
“My Lord Madoc,” Her voice was hardly audible.
“Here, take back your powers.” He said. His eyes pulsed green as the magic left his body and returned to hers. “You’ll need all the power you can get to recover.”
Arianwen’s eyes flickered icy purple as her powers returned. “Why did you tell him you were Silverlake?” She asked weakly.
“To get him off your track. He knows your face. He will not remember mine.”
“Thank you.”
“Will you still be able to fulfill your plans, my Lady?”
“Yes, Princess Arianwen will die tonight.” She whispered with a smile.
“Then I wish you good luck.”
“Wait for me outside the chapel.”

Then Madoc was pushed aside as the king’s guards and the Princess’ handmaids fussed about getting her into her room. The Princess, they said, had fainted. Madoc slipped silently into the crowd. Nobody noticed him walk out of the chapel, nor did they see a girl with long straight black hair join him, nor did they see the pair leave.
After they had gone, the palace wept.


“Young Madoc!” Lando called to him when he saw the sculptor enter the pub. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you for a while. How’s the thing with the witch?”
“It’s developing rather nicely.” Madoc replied pleasantly.
Puzzled, Lando asked, “You do know the king’s hunting her down for killing the Princess?”
“Yes, I helped her kill the Princess, didn’t I? I did make the statue after all.”
Lando was shocked. “So, you completed it. Don’t you feel any remorse for what you’ve done?! Silverlake is a powerful witch! The warlock-king, Caradoc, is in a coma because of her! How could you side with that woman? Do you realize you’ve taken an innocent life?!”
“Taken? No, Lando, I have freed one.”
Before Lando could contest, a girl entered the pub.
Lando gasped. “That’s the Princess Arianwen! Only with straight black hair.”
“No, my friend, the Princess is dead. That is Lady Silverlake, my wife-to-be.”
Another gasp.
Madoc smiled. “I just came to say goodbye.”
“Goodbye? But where are you going?”
“Up north.” Silverlake joined in. “I’m being hunted for the murder of the Princess, right?” She seemed happy.
“Why did you…do this?” Lando asked her. “You had everything in the palace. What more could you want?”
“I don’t want anything more.” She replied. “I want something else. I don’t want to be a…housewife…or palacewife in my case. I want to work for my food. I want to be able to do something, other than bear children. I want to make my own decisions and live with the consequences. I want to be feared and revered because of my skills, for what I am capable of doing and not for my ancestry or beauty.”
“But why do you have to seem like an evil witch?”
“It pays better.” Silverlake replied in a matter-of-fact tone.