"The Olive Witch," Jocelynn whispered as she looked up at her sister. Already, her mind began to turn, conjuring up every random thing she'd read about the olive groves of Keating, the price of their oil, and…
"None of that," Ashlynn said, tapping her sister gently on the forehead. "Save those thoughts for later. Right now, focus on what's most important."
"Most important?" Jocelynn murmured, still grappling with the notion that she could become a witch, like her sister. The thought was impossibly large for her to wrap her mind entirely around, filled with horror stories about the witches of the past, the Evil Queen, and countless others. At the same time, images of the sacred oak tree and the shining sapling that had grown from the Lothian throne filled her mind along with her own sister's heroic figure fighting against the man who had caused them both so much pain and suffering…
