Wooing the Witch Queen (Queens of Villainy #1)

Chapter 23

23

By the time another week had passed, Felix knew he wasn’t only marking the days until his queen’s full recovery. He was counting down the moments until his own farewell.

Three months ago, he had fled to Kadaric Castle because there was nowhere else to go. He’d been prepared to meet his death or, at best, a wary half-imprisonment, fed and housed as a political pawn but kept under heavy guard.

At the time, he hadn’t even been able to imagine any better outcome. Now, he knew with bittersweet clarity exactly how much better his life could be when he was given fulfilling work, an almost-family, and a thrillingly powerful and soft-hearted wicked queen to adore… so, despite the guilt that burned through his gut, he savored every moment that passed as he waited to give it all up.

Perhaps Saskia would decide against executing Estarion’s Archduke once he told her who he truly was. However, whether she chose to let him go or made him her political prisoner, he knew that nothing would ever be the same between them once she learned the truth of his deception.

He had never meant it to be a betrayal, but with every hour that he spent by her side, helping her while away the days of her enforced bed rest, his pretense felt increasingly unforgivable.

He would give anything to be able to discard his own past as thoroughly as he’d discarded the all-enveloping cloak ruined on the night of Saskia’s poisoning… but from the moment Felix had been born, he’d been the living symbol of his principality. The more time he spent outside Estarion, the more clearly he saw just how deeply he’d been tainted by its political actions, all of them taken under his name.

No, he couldn’t have stopped the Count at the time—but now that he was free, he had a voice and a responsibility to use it if he ever hoped to make amends.

Today, barring any sudden turnarounds, Saskia would finally be allowed out of bed by Mrs. Haglitz. Tonight, at long last, he would flout her ban on the subject of the Archduke and tell her everything.

First, though, there was to be a celebration.

Garlands of ivy had been pinned along the curving walls of the tower staircase in honor of Snowfest, a troll midwinter holiday. As Felix stepped into the first of the maze of third-story rooms that led towards Saskia’s bedchamber, he found Krakk pinning up even more garlands over a large fireplace, while the other goblins added pine branches, small carved wooden figures, and winter berries to the room’s decorations.

Krakk grinned and waved with his free hand when he spotted Felix and the crow who accompanied him. “Queen’s up!” he croaked, his voice muffled by the pile of pins that he held in his mouth. “Back in her laboratory. Won’t be seeing her again until tonight, no doubt!”

“No doubt,” Felix echoed, shaking his head with rueful commiseration.

Truly, it was a wonder that they had all managed to keep her resting for so long. He wouldn’t be surprised if she’d leapt out of bed before dawn even arrived that morning, sticking more to the letter than the spirit of Mrs. Haglitz’s decree… but by now, at least, he knew the housekeeper well enough to know that more than one servant would be stopping at the laboratory to keep a careful watch on Saskia throughout the day. If she showed any signs of lagging, Mrs. Haglitz would swoop down to cart her back to bed, like it or not…

And in the meantime, this gave him the chance to make his own preparations for tonight’s festivities.

The day passed all too quickly as he raced to write out as clearly as possible all of the organization he’d managed of the library thus far. He surely wouldn’t be allowed back into it again, after tonight; the least he could do was to leave a helpful summation for whichever dark wizard Saskia hired to complete the job.

… Only please let it be a better option than the last blowhard who’d attempted to take Felix’s place! He winced at that thought as he rose, reluctantly, from the table in answer to Oskar’s urgent squawks of reminder about the passing time and the snowy darkness outside the library windows. Pausing, he ran one hand in a last, lingering stroke over the pile of books that still sat unsorted beside his final notes.

There was so much more left to be done here! It all deserved the utmost care and loving attention…

But from now on, he would have no say in any of it.

Taking a deep breath, Felix scooped up the pile of carefully wrapped gifts from the corner of the table and set off, following Oskar’s excited, flapping path, for his final night of warmth and safety.

The sound of enthusiastic, croaking song reached him first from the big second-story parlor that Mrs. Haglitz had directed him to join for the castle’s private celebration of Snowfest, an entirely new holiday to him. From the sound of thumping feet that accompanied the goblins’ singing, Felix guessed there might be dancing as well as gift-giving involved. The sound of many voices joined in laughter—including Saskia’s, warm, throaty, and reassuringly strong—made his own steps quicken as he passed through the final drafty rooms that led him towards the parlor door.

Warmth billowed out to meet him as he opened it—warmth, light, color, and sound joyously mingling together to repel the winter cold and dark. Felix felt all his exhaustion fall away as he stepped into the parlor with its blazing fireplace, brightly lit candelabras, garland-bedecked furnishings, wrapped gifts piled around a large pine log and three colorfully painted rocks… and, most of all, the family at the heart of this castle, all gathered together to share the joy.

The goblins didn’t halt their singing, but they waved to him while they continued their festive, stomping dance in the center of the room, interspersed with laughter over the hilarity of it all. Saskia sat on the couch beyond, clapping for them with unmistakable affection and delight, while Morlokk and Mrs. Haglitz rested contentedly in big, comfortable chairs on either side of the couch. Saskia’s crows and bats lined the high shelves of the walnut cabinets that stood against the walls, and Cook bustled back and forth, laying out a glorious long table of food with her human arms while her smoothly scaled lower body swept across the floor. Her twin pet snakes wove their heads in happy circles above her shoulders, hissing in time with the goblins’ song.

Near the corner full of gifts, set upon a side table over a miniature, portable stove engraved with mysterious etchings, was a steaming—and magically self-swirling—pot of thick, creamy liquid that smelled deliciously of cinnamon, nutmeg, orange peel, and the deepest, darkest chocolate. Only two mugs were set out beside it—but as Cook was the only one in the room without a mug already in her hand, Felix knew that one of those mugs must be intended for him.

His chest squeezed with bittersweet appreciation as he filled his cup with the steaming drink. Every moment of this shared celebration was a stolen gift—but he couldn’t bear to refuse any of it. Not yet.

How many years had it been since his last family holiday? The former Archduke and Archduchess of Estarion had been rigidly proper and formal in all of their public celebrations. Still, when Felix strained his memory, he could recall the glorious feeling of those few, precious evenings in his early childhood when his nanny would bring him to the family parlor and he and his parents would, at long last, enjoy an evening of private celebration, just the three of them together.

Those memories were terribly faint, more traces and hints than any solid visions—the echo of his father’s deep laugh, for once unguarded; the rustle of silk against the floor as his mother shocked him by getting down onto her hands and the immaculate knees of her elegant gown to play with whatever set of trains or wooden soldiers that young Felix had been gifted—but the feeling of those evenings still remained, buried deep inside him.

He’d never thought to experience it again. As he turned away from the side table, clasping the heat of his filled mug in both hands, he found Queen Saskia looking over her shoulder at him, her lips curved into a mysterious smile and her dark eyes alight with a heat that shot through him…

And Felix realized that this, tonight, was already even better than any of those half-remembered evenings in his past.

“Well, come on over, boy!” Mrs. Haglitz summoned him towards the half-circle of seats with an impatient gesture as the goblins finished their song and clashed their mugs together. For once, the housekeeper didn’t even snap at the mess being made. “We’ve all been waiting for you!”

“You have?” Felix crossed the room to join them, but hesitated by their half-circle, looking for another empty chair to match Morlokk’s and Mrs. Haglitz’s seats. Cook, of course, would rest upon her own comfortable coils once she was ready—and Oskar, already flown to join his flock, was no help in this search.

“Here.” Saskia patted the velvet cushion just beside her on the deep-blue couch. “I’ve saved your place.”

Gods, yes. Every instinct in his body urged him to lunge forward and take what he was offered—but Felix hadn’t allowed himself a single romantic gesture since her announcement about the Archduke a week earlier. He might have been rash enough to indulge in wistful, impractical dreams until that sobering moment of truth, but it had been a turning point for him. No matter how tempting the offer, he would not willingly give her any added reasons to hate him when he told her the truth tonight.

So he said, “You should lie down, Your Majesty, to conserve energy. I’ll find myself a chair—”

“Don’t be absurd.” She rolled her eyes. “You’ve all kept me resting far longer than necessary already.”

“But—”

“I wouldn’t waste your breath in arguing, Sinistro,” Morlokk rumbled with unhidden amusement.

“Otherwise, she’ll get up and dance a jig just to prove she can,” Mrs. Haglitz added tartly, “and for all our girl’s gifts, I can tell you right now, you do not want to see her try to dance!”

“ Ahh! ” Saskia gasped in mock outrage—and with her family’s warm laughter surrounding them, Felix gave up and sat down on the couch beside her, keeping a careful six inches of distance.

He took a long, luxuriant sip of the creamy, flavorful hot chocolate, but it couldn’t diminish his awareness of her lithe figure beside him as she took off her satin slippers and drew up her legs to curl comfortably across her own cushion of the couch, resting one elbow on the padded arm. The hem of her flame-colored gown drifted across the seat to brush against his trousered leg, while her stockinged toes rested tantalizingly beside it.

Felix drew a deep, slow breath between his teeth, suddenly intensely aware of the lack of any concealment, now that he’d given up his old black cloak… and then he fixed his mind firmly on her family all around them.

Discreetly lowering his cup and crossing his legs, he turned away from Saskia’s too-magnetic presence. “I am sorry to have kept you all waiting,” he said to Mrs. Haglitz. “There were a few things I had to finish up in the library before I could leave it.”

“Of course there were.” Mrs. Haglitz snorted, lifting her cup to toast him and Saskia together. “You and her make a perfect pair. If it were up to either one of you, you’d never stop for a moment’s break!”

Felix couldn’t help the wistful twinge in his chest at her first words, but he found a smile at the end. “I am glad to have stopped for this,” he said, “and, Cook?” He raised his voice, shifting in his seat to address her as she moved around the long table behind them with her twin snakes’ eager supervision. “This hot chocolate is delicious. ”

“Now stop fussing around with your art, for the Moon-Mother’s sake!” Mrs. Haglitz added. “It all looks more than beautiful enough, and you know it. Let’s settle down for presents!”

Cook gave in with a gusty sigh, and the goblins scurried for the pile of wrapped gifts by the pine log and rocks, laughing and jostling each other as they raced to each scoop up the most in their small, strong arms.

As Felix turned to watch, his gaze crossed Saskia’s. She hadn’t turned to follow the path of the goblins. Instead, she’d been watching him… and the focused intensity of her gaze made his mouth go dry.

Until today, he’d spent almost every waking hour of the past week by her side. Again and again, he’d seen her lapse into silence, eyes narrowed in brooding contemplation as she worked out some inner dilemma. Naturally, he’d assumed that it must have to do with her simmering plans of revenge—so every time she’d lapsed into that sort of silence, his gut had twisted even tighter with the guilt of his secret.

Tonight, though, her expression was finally unclouded… and full of hot determination. A scorching wave of awareness swept across his skin as she bit down on her lush lower lip, holding his gaze a helpless captive.

Had she solved her dilemma by deciding on him, now, tonight—just when he was about to give up everything?

Felix could have fallen to his knees in gratitude or tipped back his head in despair at the sheer impossibility of it all. Before he could do either, a large, heavy parcel landed on his lap with a thump that startled him free at last.

Swallowing hard, he looked down at the present on his lap as the sounds and sensations of the room around him suddenly rushed back in.

“From us!” Krakk croaked delightedly. “From all of us!” Bouncing up and down on his spindly legs, he gestured towards the other goblins, all of whom were busy distributing their other parcels around the room.

“I… thank you.” Overwhelmed with conflicting emotions, Felix had to take a long, steadying breath before he could begin to unwrap the many sheets of baking paper the goblins had used to cover their gift. Inside the final layer was a solid wooden chest; when he opened its lid, he found five cheerfully grinning, carved wooden replicas of the five goblins he’d come to know, each one with an identifying mark.

It was a whole world away from any of the polished, diplomatic gifts he’d been presented with at countless glittering events as the Archduke of Estarion… and it meant a thousand times more than any of them.

“ Thank you,” he repeated as he turned Krakk’s own wooden replica in his hands, giving it the slow and careful appreciation it deserved. “It is truly remarkable work. I love it.”

If he did have to flee the castle tonight, he would at least be able to carry these visible reminders of friendship with him…

And the gift-giving was far from over.

Over the past few weeks, Felix had worked hard to create small, bound books for each of the goblins with the types of adventure stories that he knew they all preferred, writing them as the brave and clever heroes of each piece. Their cries of delight at that discovery, now, were welcome affirmations that he had done well.

For Morlokk, Felix had ordered a case of the finest port, and he savored the appreciative lift of the ogre’s right eyebrow when Morlokk took in the label on that bottle. Felix had chosen a fine silk shawl in shades of emerald green and blue for Mrs. Haglitz. He was glad to see how well it complemented her own green skin when she arranged it over her existing layers—and gladder still to see her stroking one gnarled hand over it a few minutes later, visibly luxuriating in its softness.

For Cook, he’d chosen a gorgeously perfumed skin cream from the Empire to rub into her shimmering scales, which too often dried and cracked in this cold winter weather. And for Saskia…

“Oh, no. You open your gift first,” she told him, waving off the parcel that he’d offered. “I’ve had to wait for weeks to see your reaction! You can’t expect me to wait any longer after all that torture.”

“I beg your pardon?” A half-laugh of surprise escaped him. “I’m fairly certain you’ve had more important things on your mind, these past few weeks.”

“Just open it,” she commanded, steely-eyed and formidable… and he had to bite down hard on his lower lip to hide exactly how much he enjoyed obeying that tone of command, from her.

This gift had been wrapped, not in baking paper, but in colorful, elegantly gilded paper that must have been imported from Kitvaria’s capital city, judging by the quality. The expensive ribbons that sealed it, though, were knotted with big, impatient knots… which made him treat them with even more care.

This queen hadn’t relied on anyone else to choose or wrap her gifts.

When the final knot fell away under his fingers, Felix opened the folds of the paper to reveal a small, rectangular case that looked about the right size and dimensions for… oh!

His fingers stilled. Surely…

“Well, don’t sit around staring at it all night, boy. Open it!” Mrs. Haglitz demanded—and Felix realized that the attention of everyone in the room was fixed eagerly upon him.

Holding his breath, he opened the velvet-inlaid wooden case. A new fountain pen did indeed lie inside—but it wasn’t made of any of the materials in the collection he’d had to leave behind in Estarion when he’d fled. This pen shone silver in the fire-and candle-light, and when he slipped the cap free with painstaking care, the nib itself glowed gold rather than steel.

“ Ahhh! ” The sigh he let out was very nearly obscene; he caught himself, flushing, but too late. The room had already erupted into laughter, warm and affectionate.

“Now, that’s what I’ve been waiting for,” Saskia said.

“But… how?” Wonderingly, Felix tilted the pen back and forth, taking in every angle of the extraordinary nib. “Where did you even find such a pen? I’ve never seen its like.”

“Ahem.” Morlokk cleared his throat. “It is a new design, not yet released to the general public. An artisan in the capital designed it on Her Majesty’s commission.”

Tucked across and beside Felix’s lap were thoughtful, personal gifts from every member of this household. Now, as he felt their group delight wrap around him, emotions rose chokingly in his throat.

At the archducal court, he’d learned to always express himself in the most diplomatic fashion possible. Now, he couldn’t find any words at all.

Smiling, Saskia lifted the gift he’d given her, which she had saved for last, and pulled aside the knotted ribbons. A scant moment later, she had removed all of the carefully folded wrapping paper and was staring, open-mouthed, at the thick, bound volume in her lap.

The cover of the book was made of gold-tooled leather of the finest quality; when she opened the front cover, she exposed the deep-blue endpaper, decorated with golden stars.

The title page, printed in an elegant and easily readable typeface, read:

A New Approach to Wizardry, from First Principles Onwards

By Her Majesty, Ana, the Queen of Kitvaria

“The printer stands ready to print as many commercial copies as you desire, to spread your mother’s work and research across the continent,” Felix said, “but only if you so wish. This copy is permanent, and should last for centuries in your library. You’ll never have to fear it being lost again.”

Saskia’s fingers tightened around the corners of the book as her eyelashes lowered.

When she looked up again, her face was drawn into sharp—almost desperate—lines, and her voice sounded pinched and thin. “Everyone, this has been the finest Snowfest that I can recall. I truly appreciate every one of you, and I hope you’ll all stay and celebrate in comfort. But, Fabian?”

Rising to her feet, she looked down at him with eyes that blazed with fierce emotion, only barely controlled. “I require you to attend me elsewhere, urgently, for a private conversation. It cannot wait another moment.”

Felix’s chest twisted as he searched her expression. Had he guessed wrong? Was she offended rather than pleased with her gift? If he’d somehow hurt her…

She waved one hand impatiently, gesturing him upwards. “Don’t worry about bringing any of your belongings, Sinistro—you can come back for all of them later.”

“As you wish.” Squaring his shoulders, Felix rose to his feet, leaving behind his gathered gifts—and leaving behind, as well, all of the safety, trust, and precious sense of belonging that he had found in Kadaric Castle across the past few months. “The truth is, I have an urgent matter to discuss with you, too.”

As soon as they were alone, it would be time. He couldn’t keep his secret any longer.