Dragon Time and Other Stories by Ruth Nestvold

Author:Ruth Nestvold
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy
Publisher: Red Dragon Books
Published: 2012-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

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To Act the Witch

Brilliana stared at the necklace of gold and emeralds draped across her palm, speechless. Since the Alchemical Revolution, gold was worth little more than lead, but the cascade of green stones was something even the principle of transmutation could not recreate.

She looked up from the fortune in her hand to the prince, dark and handsome, gazing at her expectantly, a self-confident smile curling his sensuous lips. The ringlets of his dark hair, falling almost to his waist, glinted in the light of the candles on the dresser of her tiring room.

"Charlie, I--" She looked back down at the stones. Why did she have to fall in love with the heir to the English throne? She held the necklace out to him. "I would fain not be another Nell Gwynn."

She watched as the smile slowly faded. He waved away the return of his jewels and took her free hand. "Think on it, Brilliana," he said, planting a gentle kiss just above her temple. "The jewels match your eyes perfectly."

The door closed behind him, and she lifted the glittering emeralds to her cheek. Brilliana had never known the Old Age before Magic had been set free, said to be a dark time full of injustice and inequality, when gold bought prestige and power.

But an actress still could not marry a prince. Especially if that actress was a bastard.

No, she wouldn't think on it, on the father she'd never known. A witch, he had used his power of illusion to seduce her mother and get her with child. Those thoughts could poison her soul if she let them.

She rose, taking her cape from the hook on the wall and draping it across her shoulders. The halls between the tiring rooms were full of rakes and roués inspecting the actresses. Charles and his younger brother Robert were leaning over dark-haired Katherine Percy; he raised his head as her door opened but made no sign. Brilliana's heart wrenched at the sight, but she nodded in his direction and headed for the exit of the playhouse. Her colleagues thought she was a fool for not taking one of the many offers of a house on the Strand or Pall Mall that she had received since her lead role in Aphra Behn's The Amorous Prince: even a successful actress made barely enough to live comfortably. But a perverse ambition drove her--to achieve something of her own, as Aphra had.

Entrapping men was much too easy.

Brilliana closed the door on the intimate post-performance atmosphere of the Dorset Garden Theatre and made her way through the dark side roads to Fleet Street. December of 1699 was colder than any winter she could remember; so cold the Thames had frozen over and one could walk to Southwark if one were so inclined. At least the Age of Magic had made it safe to walk the streets of London with a bag of emeralds at one's waist--with so much witchcraft loose these days, thieves had grown fearful.

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