In the town of Chandi was a young widow who had a daughter. Her husband had been a soldier and he had died in a faraway country, in a battle for the possession of a small piece of ground where was a mine of diamonds. The widow had called her daughter Elvernia, for such was called the land she was coming from and that she loved, but she had met and married her husband in Chandi and in Chandi she would stay.
When little Elvernia went to school, she went down High Street and then turned into a small street in which was an orchard. In this orchard was a plum tree, which branches passing above the fence, hanging on the roadside. When the tree was heavy with ripe plums, Elvernia innocently took one every morning and kept it for eating later at school.
The orchard belonged to a woman who was said to be a witch; most witches in Chandi were called so because they had skills with plants. This woman, who was called Siabel, was a witch because she had particular powers. She wasn't very liked, because she was always grumbling and insulting people under her breath; but then, even those she had helped and who hadn't paid because they were too poor scorned her and despised her.
As children threw stones at her when she went into town, she went out very rarely, making grow in her garden everything she could to provide for her food. Her fruits and vegetables were the best of the whole town and once every two weeks, she would go to the market to sell them for wheat and meat. Now this witch, more than anything else, liked plums and she had taken a great care in her plum tree. It didn't take her long to discover the theft happening every morning.
One morning, then, Siabel hid near the plum tree, behind the fence, and watched the road, waiting patiently. Elvernia came by and naturally held out the hand to pick a fruit. Siabel almost pounced on her and seized her by the arm.
"You little thief!" she exclaimed. "Who gave you permission to gather fruits from my beautiful plum tree? For this you will have to pay!"
"Ah, madam!" exclaimed the child, frightened. "I didn't know that I would offend you by picking fruits from the branches in the street! Forgive me, I will never take one of your fruits again!"
But Siabel refused to listen; children were always teasing her and she didn't trust them. She was sure that Elvernia would steal again from her if she let her go. Elvernia pleaded over and over, promised she would never take from her garden again, but Siabel didn't believe her. So she dragged her into her house and said, threatening:
"From now on, I shall call you Prunella, so that you will remember your theft!"
Elvernia was very frightened, for she didn't know what would happen to her. The witch looked at her and commanded her to clean the kitchen. Elvernia thought that if she was very good and very obedient, maybe Siabel would let her go soon so she hastened to do what she was told and didn't complain at all, though she was just a child.
Naturally, as the evening came, Elvernia's mother worried since her daughter wasn't back home. She hurried on the way, thinking that maybe Elvernia lay hurt on the path. But she found no one. She went to see the mothers of other children she knew and they told her that Elvernia hadn't come at school at all. Even more worried, the mother went back again to school and, on the way, saw the plum tree; she remembered instantly that her daughter liked plums. She remembered also whom the orchard belonged to and she feared for her daughter.
She gathered her courage and knocked at the door. She heard the rough voice of the witch saying:
"Prunella, go upstairs!"
She thought with surprise that she didn't know the witch had a daughter. The door opened.
"Good evening to you, mistress Siabel," said politely the worried mother. "Would you have happened to see my daughter, little Elvernia? She passes before your house every day to go to school..."
"Indeed I have!" sneered the witch. "Your daughter is a thief and I fully intend to punish her! She stole from me, and repeatedly! Would she have stolen only once, I might have forgiven her, but she had proved to be wicked and must be cured of her vice."
"Oh, but she's just a child! She didn't know..."
"It is enough! Your daughter shall stay with me from now on, until the day she will be rid of her fault. Don't even think of sending people to me to recover your daughter, for I shall punish them and then punish her also. I have powers that you ignore."
The poor mother was so worried, so frightened for her dear child that she shook the head.
"I won't, I won't, but please, let me see my little Elvernia, let me at least give her a last kiss..."
"Goodbye," said coldly Siabel.
She closed the door and the mother collapsed at the door, weeping. She knocked again and implored the closed door:
"Please, you're a mother also, you must understand my grief!"
But Siabel never opened the door again.
Elvernia's mother so much grieved for having lost her daughter after having lost her darling husband that she died soon after. If the witch heard of it, she didn't say it to Elvernia, who continued to behave properly, hoping to go back soon to her dear mother.
Siabel used Elvernia as her servant and the girl was so terrified of the witch that no complaint ever came to her lips, no matter how hard was the work asked from her. She didn't think of escape either, because Siabel had threatened her to punish her mother should she try to escape her righteous punishment. After that, Siabel never had to threaten her again.
Sometimes Elvernia had the impression that there was a shadow behind her, following her and - but maybe was she only imaging things - protecting her. She knew there was someone sleeping in the room next to hers, for she heard steps in it when she was lying in her narrow bed. She actually dared to ask Siabel who was in the other room - she was at the witch's for only two weeks and hadn't learnt yet that it was better for her not to ask questions.
"It's Bensiabel. Go fetch water at the well, since you don't have anything better to do than ask questions."
Elvernia didn't dare to ask who was Bensiabel and she thought that maybe she could ask him - or her - in person, but she never saw the mysterious third person of the house. Only a shadow following her and sometimes, she thought it was a spell from Siabel so the witch would keep an eye on her.
After the six first months, Elvernia began to wonder when Siabel would think the punishment was over. She would cook for three, clean the house, make the beds, fetch water and wood, tend the few animals the witch possessed and take care of the garden, including the plum tree. She never touched any plum since the day she had entered the witch's house and Siabel saw to that, for she counted regularly the fruits in the tree. Sometimes, very rarely, she would command Elvernia to go fetch one that she would have for dessert, in front of the child.
She would be sent deep in the woods to gather herbs and roots, would inevitably get lost but, as evening would fall, she would suddenly find her path again, thanks to strange signs unknown to her that she would nevertheless recognise as leading her home. Every night she would thank her guardian angel, whoever he or she might be. She prayed sometimes to see him or her face to face so she might thank him or her properly, but her prayer was never answered.
Elvernia soon learnt something more about the mysterious third person of the house. She was scrubbing the kitchen floor when she heard the angry voice of Siabel coming from upstairs.
"Ah! I will beat the wickedness out of this girl!"
"Beat me instead of her," said a masculine voice, soft, but determined.
Elvernia listened, hardly breathing. The brush stopped its work against the stones so that she could hear this new voice. Who was it?
"You are not the one irritating me," replied dryly Siabel.
"She's just a child. You will kill her if you beat her too often."
Hearing Siabel coming down the stair, Elvernia scrubbed the floor with a suspect ardour. The witch kicked her while passing near her and continued her way without saying a word. Nobody else came down the stair and no noise was heard from upstairs.
Elvernia spent thus nine years at Siabel's, trying to spot the mysterious shadow following her so discreetly and trying to seeing the no less mysterious Bensiabel. She wondered why he was living at Siabel's and why he was never to be seen.
As she was getting older, Elvernia was getting more and more beautiful, her beauty unsoiled by the hard work she was doing. She was still as kind and tolerant as before, though she had now lost all hope to ever go back to her mother. In the evening, after her workday, she would cry herself to sleep in her narrow bed, thinking of her mother and that she had lost her for some plums.
After nine years of hearing that she was a thief and should be chastised as such, Elvernia had stopped thinking that the punishment was too great for the fault she had committed and she accused herself of having failed her mother. She was even thinking that she deserved to be beaten since she had chosen plums over her mother who loved her tenderly.
Her docility enraged Siabel, who felt no real joy at torturing a willing victim. Elvernia's beauty made the witch jealous for her powers had taken from her youth and beauty. She tried to find reasons to scold and beat Elvernia, for she had no heart at punishing her without excuse.
One day, having an idea, she replaced Elvernia's bucket for fetching water with another one and called her.
"Prunella! We need water. Fetch me some, quickly. I want the basket to be full."
Elvernia obeyed as she was used to, not noticing the difference in her bucket. She let in down into the well and brought it up as she usually did, but as soon as she had lifted it above the rim of the well, water streamed out of it. Elvernia looked with surprise at the water spilled on her feet and let the bucket down into the well again. But no matter how carefully she lifted the heavy bucket, no matter how many times she tried to fill it, water kept streaming out of it.
She looked toward the house with worry in her eyes. Surely by now, Siabel was already angry with her: normally it took her only instants to come back with the bucket filled with water and now, it seemed to her she had been at the well for hours. She tried again and again, until she hadn't anymore the force to lift the bucket above the edge; she collapsed against the well and cried bitterly.
"Prunella, why are you crying?" asked a soft voice next to her.
Through her tears she saw a shadow next to hers on the ground and thought she was becoming mad, for she was imagining that she could hear shadows talk. But she looked up nevertheless and saw a handsome young man who was looking down at her with an uncertain smile. He seemed sorry for her but still, there was some restrain in his smile as if he was fearing a rebuff.
She wiped her tears with the back of her hand.
"My name is Elvernia," she said defensively.
"Not yet. For the moment you're still Prunella."
"Who are you? How do you know this name? Are you the shadow?"
He seemed to understand her rush of questions and her last question didn't surprise him.
"I am the son of the witch," he said with an hesitation. "My name's Bensiabel."
He lifted uncomfortably his weight from one foot to another. So he was the mysterious Bensiabel! And the mysterious shadow also, most probably.
"If I help you," he added in a rush, "will you give me a kiss?"
He sounded hopeful yet there was some doubt in his voice.
"No," she replied immediately. "I will not kiss the son of a witch."
The light in his eyes disappeared at once and he looked away sadly. Then he looked again at her, bent down to retrieve her discarded bucket and filled it himself. Curiously the water stayed in it. He put down the bucket by her side and disappeared from her sight.
Elvernia didn't lose a moment and came back to the house, carrying carefully the full bucket. Siabel looked at her with a mocking face, hoping to see her defeated, but Elvernia stood before her only looking away because she was thinking of Bensiabel and his relation with the witch. Siabel saw that the bucket was filled with water and she paled.
"Did someone help you? You were gone so little time," she said ironically.
Elvernia only looked down without answering.
"Very well, very well," Siabel muttered under her breath. "We shall see who will win in the end."
Now that she had seen Bensiabel and knew who he was, Elvernia thought she would see him more often, but the young man remained unseen. In her loneliness she kept thinking about him, though her decision remained firm. His smile had looked kind, not at all like Siabel's. Actually he didn't look like his mother, but still he had powers also, since the water had stayed in the bucket when he had filled it.
She knew now that he was living in the room next to hers and sometimes in the evening, she would press her ear against the wall, hoping to hear some noise coming from his room, though the walls were so thin that she hardly needed to do so. And so one night, she surprised a conversation between the witch and his son.
"You helped her at the well," said Siabel, keeping her voice low, though it was full of anger.
"Perhaps. Who can know?" replied Bensiabel quietly.
"She couldn't have filled the bucket without magic help."
"She didn't deserve such a treatment. She already paid nine years of servitude for the theft of a few plums, that's far enough."
"Each of the plums she stole is worth nine years of servitude!" growled Siabel. "What she deserves is mine to decide. Stay out of this."
"You know I won't."
Elvernia didn't know what happened next, but she heard muffled cries, then the door opened and closed on Siabel, and inside the room, Bensiabel moaned softly. His moans were filled with pain and Elvernia knew the witch had beaten her son. She felt for him for he had been beaten because he was standing for her.
The following morning, as she was preparing breakfast, she surreptitiously took a bowl of porridge upstairs, put it in front of Bensiabel's door and knocked softly at the door before running down the stair without looking back. She found the empty bowl in her room around noon. She took it down, washed it and filled it again with stew. She didn't know how he had eaten before for, even if she had prepared his share everyday, she had never seen him come to take it.
But he had helped her and he had probably protected her more than once already, without her knowing. She wouldn't kiss him but she could at least thank him by bringing him his meals when he was hurt. She wished she knew how to care for hurt people, but then, the idea of getting near him didn't appeal to her.
Siabel waited two weeks before making a new attempt against Elvernia. She called her in the kitchen and showed her a sack of wheat.
"We need bread, Prunella. Make some in haste, for I am hungry. I have to go out for a moment and I want the bread to be done by the time I come back. Lose no time."
She left the kitchen, closed the door behind her and, for the first time, locked the door. Elvernia was very surprised, for she had never tried to escape from her work.
Bravely she set up to work, grinding the wheat. She knew she would never have enough time to make the bread but she at least attempted to satisfy Siabel. When coming back, if the witch saw she had worked hard, surely she wouldn't punish her, would she? She felt her efforts were hopeless, she would get punished even so, and tears began to run down her cheeks as she was grinding the wheat.
"Prunella, Prunella, why are you crying?" asked Bensiabel's voice suddenly next to her, though the door was locked.
She knew she didn't need to reply; last time already she hadn't replied and yet he had known why she was crying.
"If I help you, will you give me a kiss?" he asked.
His tone was already unhappy, as if he knew what she would reply.
"I will not kiss the son of a witch," she said.
His handsome face saddened immediately and he sighed. He gently pushed her away and finished to grind the wheat, made the dough and baked the bread in the oven before disappearing without adding another word.
When Siabel entered the kitchen, the room was filled with the odour of fresh-baked bread. Her eyes shone with fury, but she managed to keep herself under control.
"I see," she said, trying to appear satisfied. "I should really have asked you to do more than one bread. Did Bensiabel come to see you while I was gone?"
Elvernia only looked down and said nothing.
"Well, well," Siabel whispered as she was leaving the kitchen with a large slice of bread, "we shall see who will win in the end."
The very night, Elvernia heard Siabel entering Bensiabel's room.
"I told you the girl was my concern," she said furiously.
"So?"
"Stay away from her. I've taken care of her during nine years without your help."
"You've enslaved her during nine years, you mean," replied Bensiabel quietly. "You can enslave me if you want, for I am your son and my life is yours to take back since you gave it to me, but she is not your daughter."
"You are as wicked as she is and I will not permit impertinence in my house, coming from my own son!"
Elvernia covered her ears with her hands for Bensiabel's cries weren't muffled enough and she could hear them clearly. Then a dull sound came to her ears, as if someone had fallen on the floor. Then she heard moans as, she was guessing, Bensiabel was crawling to his bed.
Once again she brought food and drink at his door, but never dared entering Bensiabel's room. He was the son of the witch, after all, and who knew what could be in such a room? The door was usually locked anyway, as she had discovered a long time ago, when she had begun cleaning Siabel's house.
She didn't know how Bensiabel was putting the bowl in her room but she didn't really want to know. It was never good to know too much about witches. She wondered briefly why Siabel hadn't tried to trick her with the bread before Bensiabel was well again; maybe she knew her son would have helped the girl even so and she didn't want him to hurt himself.
She took care that Bensiabel would always have slices of bread still warm from the oven, fresh water just fetched from the well and stew freshly made. If he noticed the attentions he never let her know.
Siabel hadn't said her last word but her mind still wasn't set on whom exactly to punish. She almost wanted to punish Bensiabel along with Elvernia. She called the girl one morning.
"Prunella, I just received a message from my sister Selena, who lives across the mountains. She has a precious casket for me. I need you to bring me this casket."
Elvernia agreed happily: she longed for fresh air. She took a little basket, put some food in it and took the way of the mountains. She was hardly out of sight of the house that she met with Bensiabel, who was leaning against a tree, as if waiting for her.
"Prunella, Prunella, where are you going?" he asked, slightly frowning.
"To your aunt Selena," she replied cheerfully.
"Oh Prunella, it's death awaiting for you at my aunt's! If ever you thought that my mother was cruel, oh, she's an angel compared to her sister! Ah, you will never come back here!"
Elvernia was indeed very frightened by his words; she had no reason to distrust him for he had always helped her and he indeed looked unhappy.
"What shall I do?" she exclaimed in despair.
"If I help you," Bensiabel asked softly, "will you give me a kiss?"
"No, I will not kiss the son of a witch."
She would not change her mind, but she was trembling: she wanted to live, so she could see again her dear mother and ask her a thousand pardons for having worried her so much.
Bensiabel looked down, very sad, and did not reply. She feared he would not help her this time. He sighed heavily.
"I shall help you even so," he said unhappily, "for I love you more than my own life, though you have only contempt for me. Here are a flagon of oil, a loaf of bread, a rope and a broom. I hope you will know what to do with those items when time will come. If ever you need help, call my name twice and I shall come, no matter how far you are from here."
Despite her fear of him Elvernia couldn't help but ask:
"How is it you are so kind when your family is so cruel?"
Bensiabel turned the head away.
"My mother hasn't been always cruel. She had been once beautiful and kind, even though she was a witch. People shunned her, for the same reason you shun me now. She fell in love with a young man who returned her love; but the man's own wizard cast a spell on her and turned her ugly, so that the young man would flee from her. She was despaired, for she was carrying his child - me."
"Who was this man, for having his own wizard?" she asked curiously.
"A prince... a young prince. Everybody thought she had bewitched him, for nobody could understand how he could love a witch. It's true she had in a way bewitched him: he loved plums and the best plums were growing in her garden. But he didn't love her only because of her plums."
"A prince! Son of a witch... son of a prince! How can you be so sure he really loved your mother?"
"She told me... Of course she could have lied, but I used my own magic and I know that in the prince's room was a huge portrait of my mother while she was still beautiful. He kept it there until his death."
Bensiabel's voice was sad and thoughtful; Elvernia was moved by the tale and she proposed shyly:
"Would you walk a bit in my company?"
He looked up at her, a dim hope lightening his eyes, but shook the head.
"I cannot, I am sorry."
"Oh! Is it because your mother will notice your absence?"
"No, Prunella. It is because I can hardly walk. Coming here to see you before you leave took all my strength."
Elvernia's eyes filled with tears.
"I'm sorry you got beaten because of me."
"I would rather be beaten twice more than see you be beaten," he said simply.
He bowed his head to her and took the path to his house. Elvernia looked at him and bit her lower lip when seeing that he was walking painfully and that his shoulders were still bleeding.
Elvernia thus travelled to the house of Selena. When reaching the house, she saw the hinges of the door were all rusty and taking the flagon of oil from her basket, she carefully oiled the hinges. The door opened smoothly on a courtyard. But before she could even step in it a fierce mastiff, almost as big as she was, stood in front of her, looking at her as if he was going to eat her alive.
Elvernia couldn't move; she didn't know what to think and was tempted to call Bensiabel, but she remembered he was hurt and that she could succeed on her own, for he had said so.
"Dog, do not eat me," she said softly, "for I have food in my basket and this food I will give to you if you only let me pass."
She took the loaf of bread from her basket, and also the rest of meat she had from her own lunch, and put it on the ground before the dog. The mastiff wolfed the food down and stepped on the side to let her enter, lying on the ground, his head on his forepaws. Reassured, she bent down and stroked gently the short fur on his huge head.
In the courtyard was a well and near that well was a miserable woman, who had long hair. She had plaited her hair and she was trying to let down a bucket into the well with her hair. Frozen with horror Elvernia watched her doing it again and again, always in vain. Reacting at last, her eyes filled with tears, she ran to her.
"Oh poor creature! Here, stop this; I have a rope and I'll gladly give it to you."
She took the rope out from her basket and handed it out to the woman who took it with tears in her eyes.
"Be blessed, little mistress," she said, her voice hoarse from misery. "Do not stay with me for helping me," she added, gently pushing away Elvernia's hands who was trying to fix the rope, "leave this house as fast as you can."
Elvernia looked at her with wonder.
"I will be fine now," said the woman, a smile appearing through her tears.
Elvernia nodded and crossed the courtyard, entering the kitchen. She stopped on the threshold, watching with undisguised horror a woman kneeling in front of the hearth, trying to clean it with her tongue.
"Oh my, your poor creature! Stand up, oh, stand up! Take this broom, if you please."
The woman looked at the broom in her hands as if she couldn't believe her eyes, then she looked up again at Elvernia. Down to the broom, up to Elvernia. She burst into tears. Embarrassed, Elvernia tapped gently on her shoulder, not knowing what else to do. She had never seen such misery. She was on the point to continue her exploration of the house, since she didn't know where to find the casket; she had assumed she would have to find Selena, but then Bensiabel had implied his aunt would kill her. Even so he hadn't told her where to find the casket.
The woman, her fingers clasped around the broom, touched timidly her shoulder.
"The casket is here," she said, pointing at the top of a cupboard.
Elvernia thanked her graciously and took the casket before leaving the house running like a thief.
As if the theft of the casket was linked to a spell, Selena reacted immediately. She called the woman in the kitchen:
"Catch that thief and bring her to me!"
The woman looked at Elvernia, suddenly paralysed with terror, and slowly shook the head.
"I will not for she has given me a broom," she said, tears running freely down her cheeks. "She has given me a broom while you forced me to clean the hearth with my tongue."
Infuriated the witch called the woman by the well.
"Oh, catch that thief and fling her into the water!"
The woman motioned Elvernia to continue her way and said aloud:
"Oh, I will not! For she has given me a rope to use instead of my hair like you were forcing me to!"
"Dog! Catch her and bring her to me!"
The mastiff licked Elvernia's hand as she was passing near him and growled.
"I will not, for she has given me food while you were starving me to death!"
Selena, enraged by now, heckled the door:
"Slam on her, door, so that she will be my prisoner!"
But the door opened wide, its hinges slightly hissing.
"She oiled my hinges; you let them to rust. Now I can't close on her."
Elvernia passed the door freely and, as the witch, almost choking in anger, was running after her, the door slammed shut and the dog bared his impressive fangs to her.
Elvernia, still a bit frightened, ran for half the way before resuming her walk. She thought she would have to thank Bensiabel for the items he gave her and realised that while those she had been kind to - thanks to Bensiabel - had rewarded her immediately for her kindness, she hadn't given him anything for his kindness toward her. She thought sadly she shouldn't be so glad of the good deeds she had just done.
As she arrived at Siabel's house, the night had already fallen; she was tired and hungry, but she was thinking of the misery she had seen at Selena's house and promised herself she wouldn't even think of complaining. Siabel was a good mistress compared to her sister.
Siabel received the casket with much surprise and her eyes glowed briefly with anger. Elvernia wondered if she had wanted her to remain her sister's prisoner.
"Did you meet Bensiabel on your way to my sister's?" she asked naturally.
Elvernia looked down and didn't answer.
"Your dinner is ready," Siabel said coldly. "We shall see later who will win in the end," she added for herself.
The girl ate her stew with appetite and then went up to her room. As she lay on her bed, she heard a slight creak coming from the room next to her. She slightly knocked at the wall.
"Bensiabel, are you here?" she called softly.
"I am here, Prunella," he answered and she could tell he was pleased that she had called on him by herself.
"Are you feeling a bit better or are your shoulders still sore?" she asked, concerned.
"I am feeling better, thank you. My mother decided to haste my healing."
"May I ask you a question? You knew about those people's misery at your aunt's. Why didn't you help them before?"
She heard him sigh.
"I couldn't. I am the son of a witch, after all. The harm that was done could not be undone by stained hands, but only by pure hands like yours. I had to use you to help them."
"Stained hands? I don't understand. You did nothing wrong, did you?"
He could hear the worry in her voice.
"No, I didn't, but even so. I am the son of the witch and as such, I have magic. But it is magic that has enslaved those people, the same it has enslaved you. You didn't run away because you feared my mother would use her powers to punish you even more. And, what's more, I cannot go to my aunt's without an invitation."
"Bensiabel..."
"Yes, Prunella?"
"Thank you for allowing me to help them. They thanked me but really it's you they should have thanked."
He didn't answer and she knew how she could have thanked him properly. But still, despite everything, she couldn't bring herself even to think of the reward he wanted. So she said nothing and closed her eyes to sleep.
The following day Siabel called her every instant, to fetch water, to bring more wood, to gather herbs or roots, and she said she was preparing a spell. After the dinner she said to Elvernia:
"Listen, you know the three cocks in the hen-house?"
"The yellow, the white and the black ones?" asked Elvernia.
"Those ones. Because of the spell I am preparing they will crow during the night. I need you to tell me which one it is and woe is you if you make a mistake, for this is an important spell."
Elvernia trembled and was going to the hen-house when the witch exclaimed:
"Ah, but you cannot! If you are with the cocks they will never crow!"
"But..."
She was going to protest, asking how she could know which cock was crowing, but then, she understood it was a test. She slowly nodded and went up to her room.
At midnight she awoke with a start; a cock was crowing.
"Which one is it?" shouted Siabel from downstairs. "Quick!"
Trembling Elvernia knocked at the wall behind her room and Bensiabel's.
"Bensiabel, Bensiabel, oh, please, tell me which cock crowed!"
"If I help you," he whispered back, "will you give me a kiss?"
"I will not kiss the son of a witch," she replied.
"It was the yellow cock," he said with a heavy sigh.
"It's the yellow cock!" Elvernia cried out for Siabel.
She heard a big noise downstairs, as if the witch had let down a heavy container.
Another cock crowed one hour later.
"Which one is it?" shouted Siabel.
Once again, Elvernia called on Bensiabel. She heard the witch climb the stair and she had reached the middle of it when, prompted by Bensiabel, Elvernia answered at last:
"It was the black cock!"
She had hardly said those words that a crowing was heard again.
"And this one?" asked the witch.
Elvernia implored Bensiabel again to help her but he was so sad that she would still refuse to give him a kiss in spite of everything he had done for her that he couldn't speak. Siabel reached the last step and was already at Elvernia's door.
"Answer quickly or else I will kill you!" she threatened.
"Bensiabel, Bensiabel, oh, save me, I beg of you!" she implored. "She will kill me in a minute!"
Hearing her agonised cry Bensiabel rushed out of his room and Siabel was so surprised by his sudden appearance that she stepped back, missed the step and fell down the stair till the ground where she lay lifeless.
Bensiabel knocked at Elvernia's door.
"Please open, it's me, Bensiabel."
Elvernia obeyed and looked at the young man.
"You are free, Elvernia," he said, avoiding her gaze. "My mother is dead..." he added, gesturing toward the foot of the stair.
Her eyes opened wide, first at the shock of hearing her real name for the first time in so long and then because of the words he had just said.
"You... her..."
"She fell," he said, sorrow in his voice. "She fell because of me... And now you are free."
"I can go back to my mother?" she asked, incredulously.
"Your mother is dead; she died nine years ago," replied Bensiabel, choking on his own grief, so sad he couldn't even care for her grief.
"Then I have nobody left," she said, slowly realising what it meant.
Bensiabel didn't answer her; he was looking at the floor, tears slowly invading his eyes. Elvernia reached for him and closed her arms around him, cradling him against her.
"I know why you are crying," she said softly. "I understand..."
He sobbed only harder, hiding his head on the hollow of her shoulder.
"If I help you," she breathed in his ear as his tears were calming down, "will you give me a kiss?"
Surprise stopped his tears and he looked at her, astounded.
"W-what?" he said.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "You helped me several times and I never rewarded you. Now I'm asking a reward from you in exchange for my help."
"I am the son of a witch, I am not to be trusted," he said bitterly.
"Is a dead witch still a witch?" she said.
He bit his lip.
"I'm sorry," she apologised again. "And I shall prove it to you."
She raised her face to his and gently kissed him once, twice, four times.
"I'm still the son of a witch," he reminded her.
"But you are also the son of a prince."
"Raised by a witch."
"Will you let me help you to forget this?" she asked.
"Will you marry me?" he replied.
She smiled and he knew she didn't need to answer this question.
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