The room is huge.

A grand chandelier hangs from the ceiling, reflecting beautiful little rainbows all around the room.

The floors look to be solid marble. Cold and smooth like an ice rink in the winter.

Gold designs on the walls form beautiful landscapes and natural scenes.

At the center is the biggest bed, Haze has ever seen. Pink tulle billows from the ceiling above the bed like a pink waterfall and provides pretty centerpiece.

On the bed looks to be blankets made of the clouds. Fluffy pillows in different colors of pink are at the top of the bed.

At the center of the bed is a girl.

Even though she is someone who probably hates the witch magic that flows through Haze’s veins and is sickly, she is still the most enchanting person she’s ever seen.

Silky black waves spill onto the pillows, creating a halo effect around her head. Her complexion is a pretty brown, contrasting from the light bedding. Her long eyelashes just skim her cheeks. Haze wonders what color her eyes are. They must be a stunning shade.

She was so entranced that she hadn’t noticed the other people in the room until Nova stepped in front of her, no doubt shielding her from any danger.

“Ward, what is the meaning of this?” The king demands, his voice booming like a great roar of a predator. Haze shudders.

King Harold doesn’t show his face outside of the kingdom, but she has seen paintings of his and the queen when she was little. He looked much nicer back then.

Now there is heat behind his glare. Hatred.

“She can heal Aziza. I promise I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t think it will work,” he explains.

“We cannot trust a witch! She could make her worse!” Queen Amira’s tone is not as hard but equally distrustful.

“We’re running out of options. She can give Aziza a fighting chance,” Ward pleads. From the journey to get here, Haze never witnessed him as desperate as he is now. He truly cares for Princess Aziza.

“No. She will not go near my daughter,” King Harold decides, as if his word holds a heavy weight. Which Haze guesses it does.

She can tell Nova is itching to speak, but for once it seems she recognizes that she has to let Ward do the talking.

Ward goes in front of the king, standing tall as if he was a great, unmoving sycamore tree. “King Harold, put aside your qualms with witches for this one time. Aziza will die without her.”

“And if she cannot help?” Queen Amira points out, staring warily at Haze and Nova. Her sister tenses at the attention.

“Then she’ll die anyway,” he answers bluntly.

Watching Ward now, she can see the love for his friend. The true devotion. Willingness to do anything for them. Even go up against a king and queen. Even to trust a witch.

Maybe she wasn’t the only one to notice his complete faith. The queen’s gaze softens. Her eyes shift from her sick daughter and then back to Ward. “Harold, let her try. What do we have left to lose?”

“Our daughter, Amira!” His disbelief bellows, reverberating in Haze’s ears. Nova’s fingers twitch, trying to not grab her knife. Haze is relieved that she relaizes that would not help them in this situation.

Violence only brings on more violence.

“Our daughter is barely hanging on,” Queen Amira gesturing to Princess Aziza whose breathing has become heavier.

He directs her arms down to her side. “She will not die by a witch’s hand.”

The queen’s eyes move from her daughter to the king. She looks him dead in the eye and states, “Then she’ll die by your decision.”

In this moment, the queen reminds Haze of a mother deer. They are beautiful and graceful until their fawn is in danger. That’s when you see the power. The fiery determination.

The king’s resolve finally cracks, “Heal her. Do anything else and I’ll have your head.”

Haze jerkily nods and moves to the princess’ bedside.

Nova whispers something to Ward. Haze doesn’t hear it, but she can guess the general idea when he blocks the king and queen.

“You can’t be in here. Her magic relies on trust and you both obviously do not. It may interfere with her healing Aziza,” Ward cautions them.

King Harold goes to open his mouth, but Queen Amira smacks him in the chest.

“Whatever will be best for Aziza,” she agrees. They exit with the queen practically dragging the king.

Nova relaxes next to her without the royal gaze on them.

“Princess Aziza? Can you hear me?” Haze softly asks. The princess nods slowly, her eyes squeezing tight as she coughs.

“I’m going to help you, but I need you to trust me.”

She manages to nod her head again.

Haze takes the princess’ hand in hers. Closing her eyes, she focuses all her energy on the hand she holds.

Interally, she panicks when she doesn’t feel the flow of her magic. They did not come this far for her magic to falter! What will the king do to them if she can’t heal her? Her thoughts are interrupted by Nova resting her hand on her shoulder. “I trust you, Haze. I truly believe she trusts you. You need to trust yourself now.”

Her sister is right as always. Nova’s and the princess’s trust can only get her so far. It is time for her to prove the world wrong.

She can do this.

A purple glow begins to emit from Haze’s hands.

She can do this.

The light gets brighter. It travels from her fingertips to the skin where her hands are clasping Princess Aziza’s.

“It’s working,” she hears Ward say in awe, but she can’t focus on his words.

She can do this.

Her magic instinctually flows from her. The lavender light spreads across the princess’ body, the glow showing through the blankets that covered her bottom half.

She can do this.

Haze watches in amazement as the light envelopes her entire body before returning to Haze’s hands. When she can’t push her magic anymore, she knows she has done all she can.

She did it.

All of them wait with baited breath as they all study the princess.

Her breathing is even and her coloring is much better. She looks like she is glowing as if she was just kissed by the sun.

Then her eyelids flutter.

Haze was right.

Her eyes are beautiful.

———

(Doing something different and tried writing in the voice of Haze instead of Nova.)