Page 26 of The Witch Queen

“It could work,” she says slowly. “We’ll need to be careful, but I think we can pull it off. Fionn and I can go to the granary tomorrow and initiate first contact.”

I smile, then clap my hands together. “Excellent!” They all jump, a sure sign they aren’t as relaxed as they appear. “I’d like to keep meeting here, away from my advisors. For now, let’s keep this between us.” Silene’s eyes narrow, and I fear she’s guessed more about this situation than I want her to. I wave my hand, hoping to divert her suspicions. “They over complicate matters like this.” Not a lie. Also not the truth. Trusting them with information about the mole on my Council would be foolish. “Endless committees and chancellors make for effective day-to-day governing, but slow things down.” I’m not sure I’ve successfully assuaged her suspicion, but she says nothing. The Prince’s eyes sparkle. “Is there something else, Prince Hawthorne?” I ask.

He stands from his chair and bends into a deep bow, keeping his eyes locked on mine. “No, witchling, I’m at your service.” My mouth goes inexplicably dry at the way the deep timbre off his voice says ‘witchling,’ the nickname impacting me more than I want to admit. “Should we expect you tomorrow evening around the same time to debrief Fionn and Silene’s first contact?”

“Yes, same time tomorrow,” I say with forced iciness to hide the breathlessness I feel, before returning to my rooms and Lunaria’s knowing eyes.

Laurel

Metal channeling is a powerful order of magic use. Strong metal channelers can guide weapons into their mark using the aether, a powerful skill for a warrior. Those of average strength often take roles as blacksmiths, supplying the weapons and armor for kingdoms. Some can even craft blades imbued with aether magic to keep them eternally sharp or to wound more deeply.

The Unabridged History of Magical Orders, Volume I

The next day, I can barely keep my attention focused on the advisors presenting revenue numbers and other operational kingdom updates. Sensing my mind wandering, Carex asks, “Your Majesty, should we have a short recess?” I startle from my thoughts and nod. Carex approaches me where I stand in the corner pouring myself a mug of tea.

“Is everything alright, Laurel?” he asks in a low voice only I can hear. I look at his handsome face, gray eyes bright as he observes me with an awareness that only comes from an ex-lover. It’s been twenty years since our three decades-long courtship ended, mostly amicably, but it had been a deep and intense affair before fizzling out. Nonetheless, Carex knows me well and can tell that I’m preoccupied.

“Yes, I didn’t sleep well last night. My mind is wandering. I’ll have a cup of tea before we resume.”

He doesn’t believe me. “Laurel, it’s not just today. You’ve been distracted for weeks. I know you must be missing Nemesia’s absence. Please, confide in me.”

His words echo what he told me when we’d ended our relationship. He had wantedmore. Wanted to become my partner, wanted me to bring him into my confidence. He had pushed and pushed, until we both realized I wasn’t ready.I can’t keep pushing you for more, Laurel. If you can’t let me in, how can we ever evolve?He had said the words with kindness, but we both knew what they meant. The next day, he’d asked if we should end things. I knew it was coming, knew that it was the only way forward, but it still stung. I’d agreed because I didn’t know what else to say. I think we both thought we’d eventually resume the relationship, though when and what that would look like neither of us had an answer for.

I consider telling him the truth now, bringing him into my confidence. Consider allowing him to fill the massive hole that Nemesia has left behind her. But I can’t trust him, or anyone on the Council, for that matter. With everything crushing in on me now, my preference to shut everyone out has only intensified.

When I don’t respond, lost in my thoughts, he presses on. “Let me in, Laurel. You’re clearly struggling. I can help.”

“There’s a lot going on right now. I’m distracted. That’s all.”

He pushes further. “Laurel, the rebels—” Anger rises inside of me. His tendency to persist until someone gives him what he wants is annoying now that we’re no longer together.

“Thank you for your concern, Carex, but you should focus on your own duties. I’m still waiting for a report on howyourRoyal Guards allowed armed rebels into the palace. A lapse in security that resulted in death and injury.” Carex flinches, the barb landing as intended. “I would like to drink a cup of tea. If you’ll excuse me.” With that, I walk away.

The meeting concludes an hour later, and it’s finally time to get an update from the Velmaran ambassadors. I had to make up a story about what information Prince Hawthorne has about the rebellion since several advisors heard his initial comments in the throne room. Thankfully, I’d been able to convince them the Prince had heard nothing more than rumors in the pub and had used it as an excuse to meet with me. I return to my rooms to dress in my usual armor of makeup and a scandalous, dark dress before aerstepping to the apartment.

When I arrive, all three Velmarans are sitting near the fire, conversing with the practiced ease of longtime friends. I can’t help but smile at the roar of laughter that comes from the Prince after something Silene says. She smiles up at him and grabs his hand tightly before releasing it, her expression so light-hearted and genuine that I can tell there’s a real connection between them. And Hawthorne—the laughter makes his face radiant and unguarded in what I think might be a rare moment, reserved only for his best friend and his betrothed.They’ll make a happy couple when they’re married.I don’t understand the twinge in my gut I feel at that thought.

Fionn notices my presence first, a serious and watchful expression quickly consuming his face. He fears me more than the others. Silene and Prince Hawthorne turn to face me as well, plastering reserved and somewhat forced smiles onto their faces, no sign of the easiness from before. That too gives me a twinge of discomfort that I don’t know how to feel about. I look at them expectantly, jumping right into business to avoid the way their now-guarded expressions affect me.

“How did the meeting go?”

Silene takes the lead in debriefing me. “As expected. They knew who we were and were expecting us. You were right about Thorne being targeted in the pub. They knew exactly who he was that night.” I can’t help but smirk, feeling like I’ve won another game between the Prince and me. “We met a fae named Restin. I think he’s a leader here in Arberly.”

“You think or you know? With a name, you need to be sure.”

She blushes and lowers her eyes. “I know. I don’t know why I added ‘I think.’”

I soften my voice. “It’s okay. Never say you think when you know. Be confident in the intelligence you’ve gathered.” I smile gently at her, hoping to undo my harshness from before. She smiles back, and this time the smile is genuine.

“Restin is the leader of the rebellion here in Arberly,” she repeats with confidence in her voice. “We made the offer to break out the prisoners as a show of loyalty to their cause. Restin promised to introduce us to leadership once we deliver the prisoners to them. We’re meeting at the granary again in a week.”

“So…” I say with a smile, “I guess we should plan a prison break. We only have a week.” They look between one another, eyes betraying their concern.

“You plan forusto actually break them out?” Prince Hawthorne asks with a tone of lazy indifference.

“Of course. The rebels could have spies anywhere, not to mention if I simply handed over the prisoners to you, my Council would have questions. We must enact a plan for you to break them out, but for it to look like it was the rebels themselves to protect your positions here in Thayaria.” They look nervous, shoulders tight and unspoken words on their lips. Glances between them confirm what I already suspected: they don’t trust me, and I don’t blame them. We’re reluctant allies at best, from enemy kingdoms, and I’m putting them at risk. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little skirmish,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood. “My guards are well-trained, but I expected the famous Shining Prince and his powerful metal channeler to be capable of taking them on.” Fionn’s jaw clenches, and I can see that I’ve ruffled his feathers. I’ve made the situation worse by saying something that could be interpreted as a threat. I clear my throat. “What I meant was—”

“We’re perfectly capable of battling a few palace guards,” Fionn interrupts.Ah, I’ve hurt his ego, then.“We can do it with no one even seeing us or the rebels.”

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