Wooing the Witch Queen (Queens of Villainy #1)

Chapter 4

4

Felix woke to utter darkness. Was it the middle of the night? In his first, unsettling moment of confusion, his mind grasped frantically for possible explanations. Had the Count’s assassins finally arrived and woken him by slipping through the door? Or…?

No. Felix’s body felt well rested for the first time in days. Better yet, the bedchamber around him was safely silent, with none of the telltale heavy breathing of the brutes the Count usually sent to inflict his calculated punishments. The room was only pitch-black now because a previous dark wizard who had slept here had demanded thick curtains no sunlight could pierce—something which Morlokk had pointed out as a pleasing feature when he had left Felix here last night.

… Because Felix was meant to be a dark wizard.

Ah. Memory lanced him. For one shameful moment, he seriously considered pulling his blankets over his head and hiding from the truth of it forever.

Instead, he took a slow, deep breath, ignored the gnawing hunger in his stomach with the ease of long habit, and set his mind to working out this latest challenge.

As his tutors had always been quick to remind him, Felix had been given the priceless gift of a classical education, for all that it had focused—on his regent’s orders—on abstract mathematical equations and poetry scansion rather than practical government affairs. So, what exactly did he know about wizards?

Firstly, of course, that there were two sorts: the carefully leashed and regulated Gilded Wizards who were allowed within the Empire, and the sinister dark wizards who flourished outside of it in the various small kingdoms around the continent that had, thus far, stubbornly resisted the Empire’s civilizing influence.

Within the Empire, any children who showed magical tendencies were carefully identified at an early age, removed from their families, and placed into established schools where they could be safely trained to control their more dangerous natural impulses and funnel their power towards the good of the state.

Outside the Empire… well, there, Felix’s knowledge ran into a darkness nearly as complete as that which filled this bedchamber now. His tutors had simply agreed that outside the Empire, life was generally lawless and full of peril. There, dark wizards were left to their own devices, allowed to sell their wicked services to any bidder, while monstrous creatures prowled the woods and wilds and the worst magical villains were allowed to mingle in high society.

But as for any useful details about exactly how those notorious dark wizards were meant to go about their dastardly work…

Sighing, Felix forced himself out of his comfortable bed and strode across the luxuriantly carpeted floor to pull open the thick curtains and face the day ahead.

The view outside stopped his spiraling thoughts completely.

Yesterday, he had trudged his way through the rocky landscape in a fog of weariness and aching muscles, mindlessly following the winding carriage road without raising his gaze from the ground until those flaming skulls had forcibly seized his attention.

Now, his stomach abruptly dropped as he found himself looking out over a vast drop—the other side of the high crag that this stone castle perched upon. Swallowing, he unlatched the leaded window and put his head outside. Cold wind buffeted his face and hair as he stared out at the winding river, far below, that cut through the mountains. Even higher peaks rose in the distance, stabbing towards the wide blue sky. Birds skimmed and circled overhead, letting out hoarse and predatory calls that sent a strange thrill prickling through his skin.

His fingers closed instinctively around his window frame, tightening hard to keep his body grounded.

How could this wild, untamed landscape exist in the same world as the busy, cobblestoned streets of Estaviel City—much less the polished and elegant halls of the archducal palace that had enclosed him all his life?

Felix had never felt so unanchored, adrift from all he’d ever known…

But every shockingly cold, fresh breath he drew tasted enticingly like freedom.

“Your riding gryphons are fighting again,” Saskia informed her uninvited guests. She pressed her delicate coffee cup against her forehead, hoping that its soothing heat might make up for the racket of screeches and growls that had broken out just beyond the closed library doors.

It didn’t work—but the noise didn’t seem to bother either of the infamously wicked queens who were currently lounging about on her couches, paging through her uncle’s books without an apparent care in the world. Ugh! She squeezed her eyes closed against the sight.

If it had been up to Saskia, she would still have been fast asleep in her own bed after a long night of fascinating experimentation. Adding silversand to hellbane did work every bit as well as she’d hypothesized! The possibilities opened up by that discovery were exhilarating—but nothing else seemed to be working at all, starting with today’s unexpected and unwanted meeting of the Queens of Villainy.

It was Queen Lorelei of Balravia, of course, who had named the three of them when she’d appeared four weeks ago in a whirl of sparkling fae magic, blonde curls, manic pronouncements, glittering scarlet lips, and gleeful demands.

“We’re the only three queens still holding the line against the godsdamned Serafin Empire, and even our so-called allies in the other free kingdoms all loathe us for holding power instead of ceding it to a man. We need to stand together to stay strong!”

Saskia was, in fact, quite certain that what she needed was magic and time alone to work on it in order to maintain her own strength—but, as she had quickly learned, it was difficult to edge in a word of debate when Lorelei was in full flow. At the time, wrung out by a hundred other demands in the wake of seizing her uncle’s throne, it had seemed easiest to nod along so she could shoo the continent’s most scandalously blood-soaked seductress on her way.

That, however, had been before Saskia realized that she was expected to attend monthly sociable meetups, of all horrifying prospects. She had shuddered and tossed aside the invitation that arrived in a puff of rose petals on her desk two weeks ago. However, when she’d failed to arrive today, the other two had used one of Lorelei’s shimmering fae portals to travel here instead and make themselves fully at home in her private castle library, which was not open to visitors. They’d been safely ensconced there—with delicious refreshments supplied by Saskia’s own traitorous servants—by the time she was finally rousted out of bed.

It was no wonder they were hated and feared across the continent. Together, they really were unstoppable.

“I rather like the look of this one,” Ailana announced, entirely ignoring the furious gryphon shrieks that rattled the door. Her voice was cool and unaffected, matching the pale blue of her gown and the plain, neat chignon that held her curling dark brown hair high above her light brown neck—a distinct contrast to Lorelei’s wild and unrestrained curls, which were currently bedecked with lush poppy petals and busy shedding pollen onto Saskia’s favorite seat. Indeed, everything about Ailana’s attitude signaled such emotionless detachment that it would have been only too easy to forget she was there.

However, as much as Saskia tried not to pay attention to gossip from the outside world, she knew enough not to underestimate the Queen of Winter. Ailana of Nornne had earned that nickname across the continent when she enclosed an entire invading army in ice, using ancient aelfar magic even more perilous than the winters of her northern domain… and the book that Ailana was currently leafing through was one of the most ancient and dangerous tomes of magic in this whole mishmash of an unsorted library.

Lorelei, who lay stomach-down on the facing sofa with her fashionable leather boots kicked off nearby and her long layers of berry-colored chiffon skirts trailing onto the floor, leaned precariously over to see what Ailana was pointing at. “That old cantrip?” She sniffed dismissively. “Not worth the trouble, trust me. It might work to break a fae spell that was already weakened, but gathering nettles with your bare hands hurts —and I can think of far better things to be doing at midnight on a full moon.” Her lascivious wink left no room for misinterpretation.

Ailana, who had clearly grown inured to Lorelei long ago, only raised one sardonic eyebrow before turning the page without further comment.

“Don’t you think you should separate your gryphons?” Saskia winced as the screeching outside grew even more heated. “Or shift them to the stables, at least?”

“Nonsense!” Lorelei tossed aside her own ancient reading material in a careless gesture that sent delicate pages fluttering free from its spine. “They’ll settle down as soon as Ailana’s steed agrees to give mine proper precedence—and my sweet Bluebell doesn’t care for stables. Being around too many horses that he’s not allowed to eat makes the poor boy cranky.”

“I don’t recall my Frost ever losing a battle over precedence,” Ailana murmured without looking up from her own book. A small smile twitched at the corner of her lips. “Bluebell might finally see sense this time, though.”

Another crash sounded just outside the library doors, and a lance of corresponding pain pierced Saskia’s head.

“Enough!” Setting down her empty coffee cup with an impatient clatter against its saucer, she jumped to her feet. “Perhaps your kingdoms are so peaceful that you have time for empty chatter, but I have actual work to do. We’ve all seen each other’s faces and remembered that we’re allies, just as you wanted. Now, if you’ll pardon me…”

“We are here to work.” Ailana calmly set aside her book. “We were only giving you enough time to wake up properly first. Was the coffee not strong enough?”

Ha. Mrs. Haglitz had taught the cook here to make proper troll coffee. If it had been any stronger, Saskia wouldn’t have been able to wrestle it out of its pot in the first place.

“ I understand,” Lorelei said sympathetically as she pushed herself into an upright position on her seat, tucking her legs up beneath her. “It’s always dreadful to be woken early to talk about business when I’ve been up all night playing with some delicious new toy. There’s a new opera composer I met just last week…”

Saskia stifled a groan.

Ailana’s upper lip curled as she reached for the saucer that held her cup of fragrantly cinnamon-laced tea. “Haven’t you learned your lesson yet when it comes to musicians?”

Lorelei’s blue eyes narrowed dangerously for an instant. Then she blinked her long, sparkling eyelashes and the glint of warning was gone, leaving her expression implausibly guileless. “Oh, I count on them to spread my fame now, darling. That’s the difference between you and me, remember? I don’t hide my heart like a coward and pretend I can keep myself safe.”

Ailana’s teacup rattled as sudden frost raced across the saucer below, encasing the patterned crockery in fine white crystals. Still faintly smiling, she took a long sip and set the saucer back on the table.

Saskia sank back onto her seat with a sigh. At least that saucer didn’t look cracked. She would have more than enough household complaints to deal with once Mrs. Haglitz discovered whatever destruction those gryphons had wreaked outside.

Still, that sight had been the reminder she’d needed. It wasn’t worth risking war with either of these powerful women only to win herself a few more hours’ sleep. Saskia refilled her coffee cup, took a deep, sustaining sip of the thick dark brew, and growled, “Fine. What did you want to discuss?”

“Our next moves, of course.” Lorelei’s voice was suddenly crisp and businesslike as she leaned forward, all eyelash batting abandoned. “You’ve managed to bring the Serafin Empire to a halt at your border… for now. But you know they won’t give up that easily.”

Saskia’s fingers tapped irritably against the side of her cup. “The Archduke’s high general ordered all of his troops to retreat almost a week ago.” It had been an unspeakable relief to finally leave the tedium of battle behind and return here to focus on her real work… if only visitors would stop interrupting it.

“Von Hertzendorff may have surrendered this first round to you, but we all know the Archduke won’t give up his plans that easily. This kingdom was held as a client state in the palm of Estarion’s hand for well over a decade. He and his former regent both sank significant funds into bribes to keep the upper hand over your uncle. He won’t be prepared to give up that investment so easily—and neither will Emperor Otto in Fiora.”

“That man’s a menace,” Ailana said with quiet conviction. “Since inheriting the Empire, he’s been held back by his most powerful advisors, but in private, he’s growing more and more obsessed with proving himself to be the equal of those ancient Serafin emperors who held the entire continent for over a thousand years. No matter how his high priest and gathered generals may work to hold him back, Otto is nearly ready to break free of all restrictions—and he’s on the hunt for any excuse to expand. My spies say he’s even beginning to consider taking up the cause of Purification to fire up his people and give him justification to crush all of us.”

Purification. Saskia’s fingers tightened around her cup. “I despise that word.”

Even before that hateful new fringe movement had sprung up with a few loud and angry groups scattered around the continent, there had always been bigots who feared and mistrusted anyone who wasn’t wholly human. It hadn’t been full humans, though, who had dared to defy Saskia’s uncle and risk their own lives to shelter her when she’d escaped his clutches as a young girl. And it hadn’t only been full humans who’d stood by her side this year and fought under her banner though her uncle had claimed that her powers made her a monster.

“Oh, believe me, you’ve made your stance on that perfectly clear.” Lorelei gave a rippling hum of delight. “It’s been delicious to hear from all of Ailana’s spies just how aggravated our little Otto is about it! But you can’t simply sit back now and pretend that the battle is over.”

Saskia’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Have you been speaking to my First Minister?”

“Really, darling.” Lorelei sniffed. “I’d never disrespect you that way… unless you think it might work better for me? Is she less grumpy and more hospitable in the mornings?”

With a great effort of willpower, Saskia restrained herself from rolling her eyes. That would only count as giving in to the other woman’s mischief.

Ailana spoke before Saskia could come up with any answer. “This second Serafin Empire has been a threat to every free nation on this continent since it first formed half a century ago. Until now, though, it didn’t have a guiding moral philosophy to motivate its people in new attempts at expanding outward.”

“And Otto thinks Purification, of all things, would motivate them to fight?” Saskia’s lips curled into an unhidden snarl.

“ I think we all need to shut him down before he can find out,” said Lorelei, “and there’s no time to lose. If Estarion’s high general refuses to fight you himself, the Emperor will send out his own high general, the Golden Beacon. ” Her voice was suddenly venomous. “You’ve no idea just how dangerous that blond bastard can be. The Imperial armies don’t just follow him. They love him. He could sacrifice tens of thousands, and they’d still fall at his feet and call it an honor to serve.”

“And how exactly do you propose that I stop any of that from happening?” Saskia stared at her, ignoring the sudden increase in noise outside the room as one of her own crows added a squawking rebuke on top of the gryphons’ battle cries. “Even I have limits, you know. If you imagine that I can simply drop my protective border, march my five thousand troops into Estarion, and take on the entire empire, even with whatever help you two may or may not choose to offer me…”

“You won’t need to.” Ailana’s lips curved into a small, satisfied smile. “My spies have picked up some extremely interesting news.” As the gryphons outside finally fell quiet, her next words dropped into the silence like pebbles into a deep, dark well. “The Archduke of Estarion has gone missing. Whoever finds and captures him—or kills him—controls the next move in this game.”