Page 4 of The Witch Queen

“Hawthorne! You can’t just sneak up on me like that,” she chides half-heartedly. I smirk, and she rolls her eyes flirtatiously. I wrap my arm around her waist and spin her in my arms as she laughs in protest, before setting her down and whispering in her ear again.

“Any news for me?” I ask, this time my voice low and serious. She shakes her head subtly, so I give her a kiss on the cheek and sweep away from the shop, Fionn on my heels. We continue in this way as we make our way through the Floating Market. I stop at each of my contacts’ shops, using my magnanimous charm as cover for my real mission—gathering information about my father’s and the noble’s movements. There’s little news for me today, only confirming my suspicions that with the upcoming Forum of Royals, my father is being extra careful about what might leak.

A gangly adolescent fae has the courage to approach us and hands me a thick trifold of parchment before quickly darting away as he calls out the topic of the missive. “The Witch Queen of Thayaria will be at the upcoming Forum. Read all about how the once prophecy-blessed Queen turned vile and became the phantom we all fear! Witch Queen news you don’t want to miss!” People swarm him, eager to get their hands on the government sponsored material.

I scan the parchment for any new information before dropping it on the ground in disgust. My father pays orphans to walk the streets and stir up commotion about the Queen of Thayaria every few years. They hand outinformational pamphlets, as my father calls them, telling people they need to read whatever new story he’s uncovered to keep their families safe. As a result, the people of Velmara are terrified of theWitch Queenacross the sea, afraid she’ll swoop onto our shores at any moment and steal their children in the night. The common enemy keeps them from turning their sights on their true oppressors—my father and his greedy nobles.

In reality, we know very little about what Queen Laurel Elestren has actually been up to for the last three hundred years. Thayaria and its reclusive Queen have been sequestered away behind a thick wall of mist since the war my father launched against them three centuries years ago. But my concern lies with my people, not with those hidden behind mist an ocean away.

“What information are you hoping to gather?” Fionn asks once we’ve cleared the dense thoroughfare and are walking down a quiet side street of the Floating Market.

“Ihopethe thayar shipments are reaching the Nivan Desert, and that Ragnor tells us our fears haven’t been realized. The people of Eastern Velmara need the goods the merchants ship across the desert. And the kingdom needs trade to be flowing to keep the economy bolstered.”

“But…” Fionn continues for me, sensing my hesitation.

“But I don’t think that’s what we’re going to hear,” is all I say, lips tight. Fionn only nods.

We reach our destination, a jewelry store in the Floating Market known for magically enhanced adornments. The building is painted red, the chipped paint standard for the shops that constantly battle salty winds. When we enter, a beautiful female greets us with a frown, shoulders squared and hands on her hips. She tosses her long honey-blonde hair over her shoulders in a huff and narrows her bright blue eyes on me.

“Thorne Vicant, what have I told you about conducting your littlebusinessin my shop without giving me warning that you’re coming?” she admonishes, though there’s amusement in her tone.

I quirk my lips in a half smile, instantly turning on the charm that’s become second nature to me. “Oh, come on, Enessa, don’t be cross with me. We both know you love being in on all my schemes.” I give her a wink, and she leans into my body. I wrap my arm around her waist and plant a kiss on her cheek while she pretends to bat me away. Fionn only stands near the doorway, bored. “Tell me, Enessa, what whispers have you heard since my last visit?”

I place my head in the crook of her neck so that my warm breath tingles across her ear, though I’m careful that’s all I do. A peck on the cheek or a quick pat on the ass is as far as I’ll allow my actual affections to go with those I’m playing pretend with. They may think it’s more, or wish it so, but there are lines even I will not cross to get what I want.

“You know the only people who visit my shop are wealthy nobles purchasing gifts for their mistresses. They’re the only ones who can afford me,” she says, voice low and seductive with innuendo as she pulls me tighter into her.

“And that’s exactly why you’re the best informant I have.” Another smile, another wink, and she’s melting in my arms, telling me everything I want to know. I’d sigh with the mundanity of it all if I weren’t so practiced at this point.

“The nobles are still angry with the King for cutting their supply of thayar. With me, they talk boldly of their plans to remind him of their influence and how much he needs them, though I imagine it’s another story with the King around instead of a pretty face.”

Enessa also knows how to get information using her good looks and charm. I only nod before releasing her. She pretend pouts but tilts her head in the direction of the back room, hidden from view by a thick velvet curtain. “They’re back there,” she whispers. I teasingly slap her backside with a look of pure mirth before parting the curtain to enter the hidden space beyond, Fionn on my heels.

There’s a small worn worktable with two males seated at it. They’re both dressed in the light layers of merchants who travel the Nivan Desert. When I enter, they stand and bow quickly.

“Your Royal Highness,” the taller of the two says.

“Ragnor, please, we’re beyond those formalities.” I smile, then clap him on the back. He gives me a grin, and we sit at the table. Fionn and the other male Ragnor introduces as his son sit on either side of us. Enessa busies herself polishing jewelry, though I know she listens despite pretending not to care. “Thank you for meeting. I know it’s been a long journey. How are things?” I ask.

Ragnor hesitates before speaking, choosing his words carefully. “It’s been a challenging few months. Fewer shipments of the thayar flower are making it to the desert. You know we need to use the tea we brew from the flower to enhance our magic enough to channel wind. We’re having to resort to manual labor more often. Pulling sand ships across the desert with ropes is back-breaking work. Without the flower, none of our channelers are strong enough to access their air magic, and we have no way to fill the sails with wind. It’s hurting our ability to get supplies to the far reaches of the kingdom. Not to mention, everything we get we have to use, so we haven’t been able to add at all to the stores you asked us to create.”

I frown. “That doesn’t make any sense. Imports have increased threefold in Arnia, but supplies here have also been limited. My father’s advisors are telling the nobles and the people that magic is getting even harder to channel in the desert, so Velmara is sending more of its shipments there. If you aren’t receiving it either, where is it going?” I lock eyes with Fionn before returning my gaze to Ragnor. Ragnor’s eyes narrow and his lips purse. “What is it?” I prompt.

“There are rumors…” he says slowly, “rumors that there’s a massive stockpile locked away in the mountains northwest of the desert that the King himself oversees. We haven’t been able to confirm or deny the rumors, nor can we find anyone who’s seen the stockpile firsthand. But the people of the desert believe the King is hoarding the flower for himself.”

My stomach drops. This is the third merchant I’ve heard it from. There’s nowhere else the shipments of magic-enhancing flowers could be going. But for what end?

“Thank you, Ragnor. I’ll do what I can to divert more shipments to the desert. Send word if you learn anything else.”

Once Ragnor and his son are gone, Enessa leads us to the front of the store and hands me a small, wrapped parcel.

“Your alibi.” She winks. “Silene will love it.”

“Add it to my father’s account, and charge him double,” I tell her with a grin. While I’m careful who I reveal the full depth of my intentions to in this kingdom, I’ve built a network of trustworthy allies who share my contempt of my father. Enessa and I have a complicated relationship. We flirt, shamelessly, and pretend we’re having a poorly hidden affair to provide cover for what’s really going on. Most of the court, my father included, think she’s my mistress, and that she provides expensive jewelry to my betrothed. I can’t think too hard about it, deeply uncomfortable that I’m perceived as someone who would do that to my fiancé, even if it’s a marriage neither of us intends to enter into.

“Will you come see me again soon?” Enessa whispers in my ear on the front step of her shop, pressing her body to mine in a seductive arc that pushes her breasts right into my line of sight.

Some days, it’s hard to know if Enessa wants more. We’re outside, where there are eyes watching, so she could be playing her part to maintain our cover. Not to mention she too is as practiced at this as I am, having been my spy with the nobles for decades. But the way she clings to me, body pushed firmly against mine, makes me question how much is pretend for her. Either way, I can’t afford to lose her as an ally, so I squeeze her tightly. I bury the shame I feel at using her, then lean down to her ear and let my breath send shivers up her spine.

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