CHAPTER 36 Who Do You Think is Madame Potts?

CHAPTER 36

Who Do You Think is Madame Potts?

Brownie

Even before the Crystal Cast ended, Bronwynn was looking up along with everyone else. Brownie craned her head around and shaded her eyes with one hand, but found only clear blue skies.

“Any hat in sight?” Rufus asked. When Brownie met his eyes, she wondered if he’d joined in the search at all. He was staring at her so comfortably, with a gentle smile that made her heart beat faster.

“Nothing,” she got out, trying to ignore her awareness of the beastman sitting inches from her. If she leaned over, she could … “We should get going. I think there’s a city guard station a few stores down.”

Rufus nodded. “Lead on.”

Donna didn’t need any more encouragement, trekking through the still distracted crowd. Wonders upon wonders, she didn’t step on anyone.

“So,” Brownie said. She needed to get the idea of hugging Rufus’s fluffy arms and petting his soft fur while he smiled at her like earlier out of her head. To do so, she picked the most interesting topic on the continent. “Who do you think is Madame Potts?”

Rufus hesitated, his brows furrowed in thought. “I mean, I shouldn’t say this …”

“What?”

She was immediately very interested in what Rufus Triever shouldn’t say about Madame Potts. Brownie even leaned toward him with enthusiasm. “Tell me!”

“The Black Fortress … Well, the castle staff have a bet going on in the break room. It’s been up for a few years now,” Rufus explained, reaching up and massaging his neck awkwardly. “And the leading guess was tied with … you. ”

“Really?!” Brownie burst into laughter at that absurd thought. “ Me ? As Madame Potts?”

“Of course, I’ve never thought that.” Rufus slapped his hand against his chest.

“Oh?” She appreciated the sentiment, and at the same time, basked in the idea that people out there thought that Minstrel Bronwynn Lyriel was the Madame Potts. Madame Potts was a legend .

“I always assumed it must be Duchess Calisto.” Rufus shrugged. “But I’m told that’s not the case.”

“I always thought it was Their Royal Highness,” Brownie confessed.

That got a chuckle out of her travel partner. “The ruler of Peldeep? Rowen is dramatic enough for it, I suppose.”

“And from what I’ve heard, they’ve never questioned Madame Potts’s predictions!” Brownie waved her hands dramatically. “Not from the very beginning!”

“Good thing too. Do you remember the first serious prophecy involving Peldeep?” Rufus asked, sounding amused.

Brownie, in fact, did not remember. She shook her head.

“That Their Royal Highness would get assassinated in their bathtub,” Rufus stated dryly. “Apparently, some alchemist assassin got molten ash vane into the bathwater.”

Brownie whistled softly, wrapping her arms around herself at the thought. It was not a pleasant way to die. “I see.”

Rufus added, “I don’t think Their Royal Highness sounds like the woman, though.”

“Who says that Madame Potts is a woman?” Brownie countered. “She could be anyone with a voice-changing amulet.”

Rufus hailed the city guard as they approached. “Excuse me, but where can we find the Wistful Cup?”

“Two streets up and turn left. You can’t miss it!” the guard replied, pointing them in the right direction. Rufus nodded a thank you while Donna followed the new directions on her own. Having a smart horse was wonderful … most of the time.

“Honestly, it’s lucky Their Royal Highness heard the Cast and trusted it.” Brownie continued the conversation as they moseyed up the street.

“Technically, Knight Commander Bastian heard it and burst in on the ruler before they’d set foot in the royal tub.” Rufus shivered. “Bastian was elevated to his current position because he risked his life to do so.”

“Then wouldn’t it not be Their Royal Highness?” Brownie frowned, her mind racing. “Who Crystal Casts a premonition about their own demise while preparing to get into a tub of permadeath?”

“To see who was willing to stop you?” Rufus reasoned. “And Their Royal Highness is exceptional about their privacy, so no one knows much about them in their private life. ”

“So they might or might not be Madame Potts.” Brownie nodded. This conversation didn’t disprove her original theory, but it did give her more to think about. “Whoever she is, she was at the Dark Lord and Heroine’s wedding. We were standing in a field with the Madame Potts.”

Rufus chuckled. “Apparently, Chloe [Resurrected] the madame once.”

“What?!”

“Yes, Madame Potts sent Chloe a letter as thanks.”

“No! That’s amazing!” Brownie dropped the pretense of driving the carriage entirely as she let go of the reins to clap with excitement. “Does she remember the people she’d saved right before that ?”

Rufus shook his head sadly. “There’d been a bunch of natural disasters and floods that month; it could’ve been one out of a hundred.”

“Then does that mean that Madame Potts lives in the Dark Enchanted Forest? Wait, hold that thought.” Brownie loved discussing the enigmatic, reclusive woman, but Donna had come to a stop in front of the Wistful Cup. It was time to dismount and get to sorting out stabling.

The inn was sprawling, with white-and-blue outer walls and a quaint slanted brown roof. The capital city buildings were full of whimsy, and this was also the case with the Wistful Cup. Wooden cutout teacups had been placed in decorative circles on the outer walls, and the ledges had alternating blue and white panels carved to look like waves.

Each room had its own peaked window, shutters open, and fresh pink-and-white flowers hung from the windowsills.

“You got room for us?” Brownie called out, waving to a stable hand carrying a pitchfork and a bucket.

The stable hand, a short older lady with long ears which pointed straight upward and sharp eyes, raised an eyebrow at them. Her pale face was spotted with blemishes that stood out against her flushed cheeks, and her long white hair was braided with a few wisps framing her face. “Aye. But you’re gonna need to store that wagon elsewhere.”

The beastwoman, for I assumed she was a beastfolk who preferred walking around in her folk form, clapped her hands together loudly.

“Yes, Mistress May?” A troll poked his head up from one of the horse stalls behind her. He was a darker green than Gerda, with short, cropped hair and thin eyebrows.

“Can you help our customers bring their wagon over to Trader Tulip’s?” Mistress May leaned against her pitchfork. Brownie considered storing the wagon in her ring for only a second before deciding against it. She didn’t trust any establishment that was friendly with Jack Laverick.

“Right away, Mistress!” The troll came out to help unhitch Donna. Brownie let them do the heavy work—she preferred not risking her fingers to manual jobs as often as possible. There had been this one time, before she’d become famous, that she’d broken her wrist while helping her neighbor in Drendil carry water the morning before a show; that had not been a fun night. At least when she’d sprained her finger cleaning out the dungeon with her cousins in Peldeep, they’d had potions to spare.

It’s why she paid to carry around a healing potion and antidote! You never knew when you’d be forced to play before a visiting duchess with one arm in a cast.

“Thank you.” Brownie and Rufus grabbed their things and hopped down, letting the green fellow lift the wagon and roll it away. The troll nodded at her before heading out.

“No need to worry about your wagon,” Mistress May stated, swinging her pitchfork up and over her shoulder gracefully. “Trader Tulip is well and above board, and has a guarded storage lot for her merchants. It’ll be four copper a night to leave it there, and I’ll add it to your account. A room and stable board is six copper.”

“Make that two rooms, please,” Rufus interjected. He adjusted his bag on his shoulder and looked up at the inn, then back at Brownie. “Are we staying just the one night?”

“I thought you were going to meet Jack and then continue on to the castle?” Brownie shrugged. She loved his company and wasn’t in a hurry to get rid of the attractive beastman.

“You’re here to see Jack, are you?” Mistress May stuck a finger toward the entrance. “Make sure to tell Amber that when you check in. She’ll get you all settled. I’ll take care of your mare here.” Donna, who up until this point had been side-eyeing and investigating her temporary home, turned to Mistress May. The mare let out a huff before wandering over to greet the old woman.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Donna.” Mistress May smiled for the first time as Donna butted her head gently against the woman’s shoulder. “I have just the right stall for you. Come this way.”

Brownie stared on in disbelief as her horse affectionately followed Mistress May into the back of the stable. That woman must have a skill. It was the only way.

“Shall we?” Rufus drew her back to the present, nodding toward the door.

They walked into the Wistful Cup just in time to watch a drakin half transform in the lobby and breathe out a burst of fire.