Page 21 of Poisoned Kingdom
The moon shone on my face with its cold, unfeeling light, deepening the shadows lurking in every corner, but my attention was caught by the shooting star that cut across the sky, disappearing over the horizon. As futile as it was to wish upon a star, deep down, I hoped that maybe it was a sign that Inga Tivala was the woman who could stand by my side. Perhaps I was just fighting fate.
‘Fine, let’s give it a chance,’ I muttered to myself.
I wrote a quick note asking my secretary to go ahead and invite all the noble families to the Winter Solstice Ball, something I’d been holding off on. It was still almost four months away, giving me a chance to stall the nobles and see my potential bride before deciding on my future queen.
Shuffling through the rest of my correspondence, the last letter made me smile. It was from my brother, and the gods knew I needed good news. They’d finally convinced Annika to bear their child, and though no one knew whether it was my brother’s or Alaric’s—the third in their relationship and one of Annika’s other Anchors—the love was evident in every word.
I was happy for him, even if it meant I wouldn’t see him as often. Orm already complained that Vahin, his dragon, refused to take Annika into the sky or leave her side for longer than the few hours it took to patrol the Ozar Kingdom.
‘And that’s how you finally get grounded.’ I chuckled, feeling a warmth slowly spread throughout my chest, chasing the bad mood away.
I signed a few more documents, placing them in a neat stack for my assistant before deciding to go back to bed. I didn’t want to answer any questions if, once again, they found me working through the night. As I stood to leave, one final issue came to mind.
‘Arrange a meeting with Boyan,’ I wrote at the bottom of my notes. It was time the grand master of the Dark Brotherhood updated me on his search for my mystery woman.
If I were ever going to be wed, I couldn’t be dreaming of kissing another. I had to kill this yearning, because my heart wasn’t as big as my brother’s. It could only fit one person, and it had better be the woman I married.
Chapter 9
Roksana
Gods, it feels so good to be clean.
Lily had insisted I wash up in her room with its private bath chamber, and I’d spent the entire afternoon here. After a hearty lunch and soaking for hours in the lilac-scented water, I was now curled up on a wide, plush sofa with a glass of the sweetest autumn wine I’d ever tasted. My skin was soft, almost glowing from all the oils the maid had used. Only my hands still betrayed my work as an herbalist and healer for the dwarven king. The stains from crushing herbs had refused to leave my fingertips, no matter how hard the poor woman had scrubbed.
‘Feeling better?’ Liliana entered the room, the subtle scent of her lily of the valley perfume trailing after her.
‘Much better, thank you. There’s even some skin left.’ I laughed, presenting my pink complexion. ‘The dwarves are good people, but their idea of luxury is a communal bath in frigid water. Only Tova understood that women need to soak every now and again . . .’ I stuttered into silence when her eyebrow raised in quiet judgment.
‘Someone . . . special?’ she asked.
I nodded. ‘Yes, but not in the way you’re thinking. Tova is . . . I don’t know, he’s like a cross between a grumpy older brother and a guardian spirit. And he can fix anything,’ I said, the conversation with Lily flowing as if I’d never left. ‘He may join me at some point—at least, I hope so. But don’t worry, I’ll find a place for us to stay so that I’m not abusing your hospitality for too long.’
I took a sip of my drink, letting the blissful sweetness dissolve on my tongue.
‘You’re always welcome, and if this Tova made an impression on you, he’s more than welcome to stay as well. We have plenty of things to fix,’ she quipped, moving closer and placing her hand on my knee. ‘Now, tell me what troubles you, and I’ll do my best to help.’
I blew out a breath. ‘Jagon knows I killed Ignac Tivala—and how. He’s using that to blackmail me. I’m the ace up his sleeve for a repeat performance, but this time . . . it’s a bigger fish.’ I tightened my grip on the glass. ‘You’re his bargaining chip. He plans on making you the scapegoat and is threatening to tell the old duke you orchestrated his son’s death. I’ll find a way to silence the bastard, but we need to be ready for anything. You need more guards and . . . an escape route.’
‘So, you returned because of me.’ She sighed before giving me a smile. ‘I won’t run away, Roksana. Jagon is a piece of shit, and we’ll deal with him together. Now, calm down and promise me you won’t follow his orders. Since the new king took over, life haschanged, and Duke Tivala has faded into obscurity. He’s not the same man who’d silenced the kingdom while his son went on a killing spree.’
‘It still won’t stop the old bastard from hiring someone to knife you in a dark alley or poison your wine.’
‘And who would he hire? One of Irsha’s Blades? He would never . . .’ She bristled, stuttering a bit before resuming her usual tone. ‘I mean, all you have to do is to tell Irsha. He wouldn’t let any of his men harm your friend.’
‘That’s true, but I still had to return to Truso so I could tell him, no?’ I quipped. She looked at me sharply, a flash of uncertainty in her gaze. ‘Lily, don’t worry. I’m not going to fall into Jagon’s hands or give him another card to use against me. I have a plan that will hopefully distract him from his little game. And you won’t be put in harm’s way.’
‘Oh, nowthatsounds like fun. Does Boyan know? I can send him a message to let him know his favourite shadow is back to cause mischief,’ she teased.
‘Oh, he knows. I’m just laying low until I receive an official invitation. It won’t take long, so like I said, there’s nothing to worry about,’ I said, hoping I hadn’t overestimated the old man’s affection for me.
‘Thank the gods, then. Let’s drink to that.’ She poured some wine and raised her glass. ‘To the good old times. To revenge, blushing maidens, their poisonous kisses, and beating the bastards down.’
‘No more poisonous kisses or virgin dances, please . . . Gods, that was humiliating.’ I chuckled, remembering my clumsy performance meant to lure Duke Tivala’s heir into taking me to his secret lair. His death had marked the beginning of my friendship with Lily, the only person in the entire city willing to stop the man responsible for the disappearance of several young women.
Ignac Tivala had been a deviant of the worst kind—someone who had loved his solitude, and using women as a canvas for his carving knife. While Liliana had devised a scheme to lure him to her establishment, I had come up with the poison that had become the crown jewel of my collection—a lip rouge I namedWrath of Lilies, so toxic that only my magic could neutralise it. When he kissed me, I let him ravage my lips, then smiled as he suffered, feeling nothing but satisfaction at the perverse justice of it all.
Lost in the reminiscence, I barely heard Lily’s next words.
