Wooing the Witch Queen (Queens of Villainy #1)

Chapter 7

7

As heir to the Archduchy of Estarion from birth, Felix had never before served in anyone’s employ. However, he was uncomfortably certain that misleading any employer would be considered grounds for prompt dismissal… and when one’s employer was the most terrifyingly powerful witch on the continent, the consequences were likely to be fatal.

Still, as Queen Saskia strode out of the library, surrounded by her omnipresent storm of prickling energy and followed by a swirling crowd of crows, he reminded himself, on a deep, slow breath, that he hadn’t lied to her any more than she’d lied to him by keeping secret the identity of her prey. Having overheard her earlier conversation with the other two queens, Felix would indeed keep a sharp eye out for any spells that could possibly be used to hunt the errant Archduke down… and then he’d bury them so deep within the catalogue that no one else would ever find them.

Even in the role of a sinister dark wizard, though, Felix could never bring himself to harm a book—and this library had suffered enough mistreatment already. So, with a final, reassuring stroke of the inquisitive young crow who had stayed by his side after all the others left, Felix forced himself to set aside his unhelpful feelings of foreboding and fix his attention on the task ahead.

Unfortunately, cataloguing a library of magic was easier said than done… especially when he didn’t even know the main parameters.

Spells, it seemed, were composed of a whole myriad of elements. It wasn’t only their varying intents that differentiated them; there was a whole array of different styles and structures, not to mention all the different languages that had been used. Without his rigorous training in both linguistics and the ancient poetry that had apparently influenced magical spellcasting for centuries, Felix would have been lost and buried in a sea of paper forever. As it was, by his third night of focused study and his fifth used-up quill pen, he thought he might be starting to see a glimmer of light ahead… but his head ached with the effort of concentration as he fought to make sense of it all.

Was it an indication of the user’s greater power when a variant of the same spell was noticeably shorter, without so many rhythmic elements being required? Or did that actually indicate the opposite—a mere beginner’s spell?

A real dark wizard, of course, would know without even having to wonder. But—

Wait, what was in his mouth?

Blinking, Felix lifted his gaze from the ancient, faded text he’d been poring over for hours, with the help of both candlelight and a gas lamp, to stare at the half-eaten food in his right hand. It was some sort of cold pastry pocket made of half a dozen fine layers of crunchy, savory dough, all wrapped around a combination of spiced cabbage and meat that—he tested it with his tongue, and his eyes widened—was delicious.

Where in the world had it come from? He was almost certain that he had remembered to reassure the cook and housekeeper that they needn’t inconvenience themselves by sending him private meals. He didn’t remember even hearing any interruptions. His body must have operated on sheer instinct to push his mask high enough to free his mouth and eat as he worked, just now. But—

“ Ahem! ” The sound of a peremptorily cleared throat made Felix nearly drop the pastry in his haste to drag his silver mask back into place. An instant later, Mrs. Haglitz, the forbidding troll housekeeper, shoved aside one of the towering stacks of papers in front of him. Crossing her long, muscular arms, she raised the tip of her green nose high beyond the folds of the voluminous and colorful patterned shawls that covered nearly all of her face as well as her broad shoulders. “Are you actually trying to make me drop you into my soup pot, young man?”

“Ah… no?” Warily, Felix rose from his seat, slipping the half-eaten pastry pocket back onto the nearly full plate of food that—he now saw—sat beside him. His back gave an aggrieved twinge at the sudden movement after hours of bending, but he ignored it, every hair on his body prickling with warning.

Beside him, the cheerfully cheeky young crow who’d kept him company for the past few days collapsed into a defensive crouch, its feathers ruffled.

“Then tell me what in all the dark mountains’ shadows you think is wrong with my staff’s efforts!”

“I… what?” Felix shook his head, trying to bring the moment into focus. Was this all some strange dream brought about by too many days of thinking about magic? “I haven’t a single complaint. Have I somehow offended any of them?”

“Have you—?!” Mrs. Haglitz’s pink-and-black top shawl ruffled under the explosive power of her breath. When she spoke again, her voice was sickly sweet and somehow even more dangerous. “Sinistro, tell me truly: Do you find the mattress of your bed too hard? Too soft? Your bedcovers unacceptable in any way? The standards of your meals too low?”

“Of course not.” Felix frowned. “Why would I?”

“Well, I’m sure I don’t know,” she snapped, “because we work hard to see to everyone’s comfort in this castle—but none of it seems to matter to you!”

Felix had to brace himself to keep his feet from shuffling backwards in cowardly retreat.

“Last night, you didn’t return to your bedchamber for so much as a single hour. I was told you’d bedded down on the library floor for an hour or two as if you’d nowhere better to go. Not only that, but you’ve left more than half your meals uneaten!”

“I have?” Felix’s eyes widened as he turned to see—oh, there were more plates in the room behind him, piled full of even more delectable-looking food that he hadn’t even noticed. “I’m sure I told the staff not to worry—”

“ Not to worry? ” Mrs. Haglitz snorted magnificently, and the crow dived under the hanging left sleeve of Felix’s cloak for shelter, letting out a muffled squeak.

At the sound of that panicked squeak, Felix lost every impulse to retreat. He curved his arm protectively around the crow, his aching spine stiffening.

“ If Her Majesty forgot to make it clear two days ago…” Mrs. Haglitz began ominously.

“Queen Saskia isn’t to blame for my mistakes. Nor is anyone else.” As the chastened ball of ruffled feathers tucked closer into his side, Felix hardened his voice to exquisitely polite steel. “If I’ve broken any of the rules of this castle, I sincerely apologize for my transgression—but I cannot allow anyone else to suffer for it.”

Surprisingly, the housekeeper didn’t respond with outrage to his statement. Instead, her big head cocked under the folds of her many shawls, and her voice softened slightly. “You think you need to protect Her Majesty—or that little pest hiding under your arm—from me?”

“I’m certain Queen Saskia can defend herself.” Felix kept his own tone steady, feeling the bird’s rapid heartbeat pulse against his arm. “However, I won’t assign responsibility to anyone but myself for my own failings.”

Emmeline had tried to take that on for him far too many times when they were children. They’d both known that the Count saved his most brutal acts of physical discipline for Felix—but she had never understood that Felix suffered even more when he had to watch her be punished for his mistakes.

“Hmm.” With a sudden, decisive movement, Mrs. Haglitz uncrossed her arms and pulled the veiling shawls off her head for the first time since they’d met. Mossy green branches mingled with strands of thick grey hair and orange and red leaves in the long mass that showered over her broad shoulders and continued well below her waist. Her wide green face, finally revealed, was creased with wrinkles and cracks so deep, Felix spotted a patch of small brown mushrooms growing inside the one closest to her tall, pointed left ear.

Her eyes, though, commanded all of his attention: undeniably ancient and infinitely weary, those green and gold depths left him dizzyingly off-balance. “Young man, I don’t know what sort of life you’ve found for yourself in the outer world, especially if you’ve had to spend it hidden inside the moon-forsaken Empire, but I’ll tell you now: in this castle, no one is punished for failures they can’t help. Her Majesty would never stand for that kind of cruelty.”

Her Majesty had not become notorious across the continent for the mildness of her own behavior… but Felix closed his lips behind his mask to keep that comment to himself.

“So be it.” Mrs. Haglitz sighed, shaking her head at him. “If you aren’t looking down your nose at our hospitality or the food you’re offered… why exactly have you been sleeping in here and starving yourself since you arrived?”

Felix shrugged uncomfortably. “I don’t require that much food, really.” As a child, he’d had to learn to go without; he hardly noticed a few missed meals nowadays.

“Mm-hmm.” Her tone reeked of skepticism. “And you don’t need any proper sleep, either?”

He had learned how to live without that, too… but something in her expression made the reassurance stop in his throat.

“I thought as much.” She slapped her discarded shawls over her left forearm with a loud smack. “In that case…” The housekeeper turned and surged towards the door. “Come with me. You’re going to eat a good meal at a proper table, and then you’re going to have a full night’s sleep. In a bed. ”

Felix winced. “Truly, I can’t!” Helplessly, he waved his free hand at the stacks of books and papers that surrounded him. “Can’t you see the state this library is in? I promised Queen Saskia that I would sort it out for her.”

“And you will—but there’s no use trying to do it on an empty stomach, much less when you’re half-dead on your feet from exhaustion. Her Majesty knows what a mess this was left in. D’you really think she’ll expect it to be finished in a week?”

“Ah…” Uncertainty clenched at Felix’s throat. How long would this take someone who knew what he was doing? Someone who wasn’t lying about his skills and experience?

Mrs. Haglitz snorted. “I don’t think she’d prefer you to botch the job.”

“I won’t,” Felix vowed. He might have misled his new employer about too many things, but he did know how to study and absorb vast quantities of information.

And perhaps it had been too long since he’d slept and exhaustion was beginning to overwhelm his better sense… but as he found himself seated at a mouthwatering feast ten minutes later—with a smaller second plate set out beside him for the delighted crow, and a pair of goblin footmen cheerfully pointing out all of the different food options laid before him in the elegant dining room—Felix found himself thinking dreamily that he might be able to fit himself into this new role after all.

If he were truly fortunate, the rest of the world might even forget that the man he had once been had ever existed in the first place.