Wooing the Witch Queen (Queens of Villainy #1)

Chapter 29

29

It was a bright, cold, and snow-covered late morning when the Archduke of Estarion returned to his homeland at last. It had taken nearly the full eleven hours to shift every element of the alliance’s revised strategy into place. Even the three most powerful magical queens on the continent couldn’t move armies without significant time and effort. However, between Ailana’s spy network and Lorelei’s fae portals, their final group was ready to land at just the right moment on Estarian snow.

They weren’t there to fight the assembled ranks of soldiers or even the Emperor’s top corps of Gilded Mages. They were there to attend the theatrical performance that was guaranteed to come first.

After all, the breaking of the witch queen’s infamous wall—and the expansion of the Serafin Empire in the name of aiding Kitvaria’s former king Yaroslav, who would then agree to be retitled an Archduke—could hardly be wasted on the soldiers and mages who were necessary participants. No, this news would need to be broadcast across the continent for the glory of Estarion and the Emperor himself. That required an assemblage of international journalists, all ready to memorialize the moment and record the kind of carefully scripted speeches that Felix had memorized and delivered countless times across his life.

Until now, he’d never written his own script. But as snow crunched beneath his feet with the force of his portal-shifted landing and all three Queens of Villainy and Saskia’s First Minister surrounded him, he drew in a breath of icy air and prepared himself for something far more intimidating:

His first sight in months of his former in-laws.

Count von Hertzendorff stood on the raised and ornamented dais that had been carefully placed before the wall of shimmering air to address the journalists in their gathered wooden seats. His moustache bristled as his voice rolled across them with the same aggressive authority he’d used to rule the archduchy ever since he’d first arrived in Felix’s life.

“… And our Archduke will never stand for wickedness and depravity to rule unhindered. Always will Estarion nobly stand with our friends, as our Archduke bids us—and we gladly obey!”

Of course, the Count’s voice could never reach all the ranks of uniformed soldiers that spread in shocking, overwhelming numbers across the snowy fields and slopes beyond, nor even the small white-and-gold-cloaked group of Gilded Mages who stood in a hooded cluster. However, the political image—witnessed now and recorded by every journalist—would speak for itself as he stood shoulder-to-shoulder, dress swords gleaming, with Saskia’s uncle, the lean, hungry-looking former king of Kitvaria, who wore Divine Elva’s symbol alongside various other medals to signify his status as an official paladin. Behind them stood the Count’s looming son, Radomir, High General of Estarion, and also a tall, broad-shouldered, blond general in uniform who could only be the famous Golden Beacon.

Only the Golden Beacon’s keen amber gaze moved as he stood, implacable and unemotional, at military rest behind the Count… until, with a finger-flick of warning to the others, Lorelei popped the bubble of the portal that had held them invisible upon their first arrival.

“Well, isn’t this perfectly delightful!” As rainbow sparkles shimmered with the closing of the portal, Lorelei cast a flock of fluttering white butterflies, unbothered by the wintry weather, from her upflung hands into the air above to form the shape of a flag of peace. Then she twirled in place, barefoot and sparkling with mischief, on the patch of snow between the journalists and the dais…

And for just an instant, Felix saw the Golden Beacon physically twitch in an uncontrollable reaction.

“What the—? Soldiers!” the Count shouted as the assembled journalists shifted in their seats, clearly torn between panic and professional interest. “Mages! We’re under attack! The witch queen and her allies—”

“Are standing beneath a white flag of peace,” Mirjana said coolly as she stepped forward to face him, standing between the stage and Felix’s cloaked and masked figure. “As am I. You do remember my father’s diplomatic visit to your court, don’t you? So you must be aware that, as First Minister of Kitvaria, I am capable of civilized behavior.”

“Traitress!” Yaroslav snarled. Swinging around, Saskia’s uncle grabbed hold of the Golden Beacon’s impeccable blue uniform. “Do something! Use your men and those mages to kill them all. Now!”

The Golden Beacon’s blond eyebrows rose, chillingly, and the gathered soldiers and mages remained unmoving, awaiting his command. “Under a flag of peace?”

“And in front of journalists ?” Radomir muttered, not quite quietly enough. “Shut up, you fool.”

“Oh, I know my niece.” Releasing the general, Yaroslav swung around to point a furiously trembling finger at Saskia, who stood silent and watchful on the snow beside Ailana, swathed in a deep-purple cloak that rippled with the force of the magical power gathered around her. The crown of bones sat firmly atop her head, her chin was raised, and her face wore an expression of unmistakable disdain that made the last of Felix’s own nerves finally drop away. As his queen gazed up at the man who had murdered her parents and done his worst to crush her in every way, there was no mistaking the contempt she felt.

Still, Yaroslav spat, “She’s a monster. Violent. Uncontrollable! If she’s pretending to be here on a peaceful mission, it’s a trick. None of us can trust her for a moment!”

“ I do.” Felix stepped forward between Mirjana and Lorelei, untying the ribbons that had held his half-mask to his face until this moment. “And it was publicly stated just now that Estarion will gladly do my bidding.”

Pushing back the hood of his dark cloak, he dropped the half-mask to the snow, revealing the famous face that had been painted again and again over the years… and the murmuring mass of confused noise erupted into utter chaos. Every one of the journalists surged to their feet from their chairs, shouting and baying like a pack of hounds set loose on a hunt. Only Ailana’s swift and efficient erection of a sliver-thin fence of ice stopped the journalists from flooding over their group, regardless of consequence.

There was chaos on the dais above, too, as the Golden Beacon started forward with sudden, sharp interest and Radomir grabbed the Count’s arm for a swift, whispered consultation.

“Why, there you are at last, my boy!” As Count von Hertzendorff straightened, his eyes held a hard, menacing light that sent an added chill through Felix’s bones. Felix knew exactly what that look signified—but the Count’s voice was warm and avuncular as he spoke for the benefit of everyone else. “Thank Elva, you’ve returned to us at last. We were horrified to learn that you’d been kidnapped by the terrible witch queen—”

“Kidnapped?” The Golden Beacon’s voice rapped out, deep and commanding. “What’s this? I was sent to support the Archduke in his aid for an ally in trouble. Why was His Majesty not informed that the Archduke himself had gone missing?”

“Kitvaria is Estarion’s ally,” Felix said, pitching his voice to carry for the crowd as he’d been taught, “but the false king Yaroslav never will be.”

“Clearly, the witch queen has cast you under an evil spell.” The Count’s voice was clipped. “Radomir—”

“I’ve got this. Come along, little brother. ” Barely masking his sneer, Estarion’s high general loped down the stairs from the dais, his voice pitched to unconvincing affability. “No matter what that woman may have done to you, you’re not in danger anymore. We’ll get you safely to a physician who can bring you back to yourself in quiet, with nobody else to disturb you.”

Snow crunched behind Felix as Saskia shifted forward.

Felix put one hand behind his back to stop her. “Not this time,” he murmured as he watched the bigger, stronger man approach. Radomir had carelessly, happily brutalized him all across their shared lives. Now, Estarion’s high general reached out with one muscled arm to grab him like a recalcitrant pet, as he’d done so painfully often before—and Felix whispered the spell that he’d spent hours preparing for this moment.

Radomir’s body flew through the air with such force that he hit the edge of the dais and collapsed, unconscious.

There! Exhilaration mingled with relief as Felix let out a silent sigh. For years, his power had been locked away and kept secret from him—but now, everything was different.

He would never be helpless again.

“So much for a flag of peace!” Yaroslav shouted. “Now you all see what my niece is capable of. Soldiers—”

“Even under a flag of peace, I am allowed to defend myself.” Felix met the Count’s gaze on the dais and, for the first time in fifteen years, he felt no fear. “ Finally. ”

Saskia hadn’t stood so close to her uncle since she’d escaped his clutches at the age of fourteen, terrified and running for her life. She’d expected to feel rage when she saw him again today. She had never expected to feel delight…

But as Saskia watched her gentle, softspoken lover take on Yaroslav and every other pompous bastard on that stage—speaking up for her, the most hated and feared witch on the continent!—warmth filled her chest until she could barely even feel the chill of the wintry air around her or the snow beneath her boots.

When she’d first hired this quiet, careful man as her librarian, she had never guessed at the true strength that lay within him, even beyond his untapped magical power. Now, as she compared his steady moral clarity to her uncle’s spitting fury, how could she feel anything but fierce pride and delight in the man she loved?

Even the journalists who pressed hungrily against Ailana’s translucent fence couldn’t diminish Saskia’s mood. She had been burned too badly by the headlines of her childhood to allow any of those news-rakers into her presence since her assumption of the Kitvarian throne, but she could see and admire how naturally her lover aimed his words at them. Even Mirjana let out a soft sigh of appreciation as Felix angled himself to be heard and seen by every frantically scribbling reporter, his voice resonant.

“I fled to Kitvaria to save my life—and Queen Saskia, despite every vicious, untrue rumor spread over the years by her murderous uncle, graciously agreed to shelter me from the villain who stands here onstage now, usurping my voice and my role as he has done for well over a decade.”

“She’s obviously bewitched him!” snarled the Count. “None of these are his words. General de Moireul, you must see—”

But Felix had already shrugged off his cloak and turned his back to the reporters who were his most avid audience.

They were all watching as he lifted his shirt to reveal the telltale scars that had driven Saskia to homicidal fury on first sight. “These,” he said calmly, “as all of you can see, are far too old to have been left by any but the so-called protector who held me prisoner for years.”

He turned in place, pale but composed, to reveal the same damning truth to the men gathered onstage as reporters screamed question after intrusive question. Saskia’s teeth clenched at the onslaught, but Felix ignored them all as he turned once more to the stage, lifting his chin with regal hauteur.

“General de Moireul,” he said, “as Archduke of Estarion, I authorize you to take control of my principality’s army as it’s marched back to Estaviel City. General and Chief Minister von Hertzendorff are both to be taken prisoner and held there until they stand trial for high treason.”

“You pathetic weakling !” Spit flew from his Chief Minister’s mouth as he bellowed the words from the edge of the platform. “You’ve never been fit for anything but ink and poetry. I’m the only one who’s strong enough to rule. Soldiers—rise up now and seize him, for the sake of Estarion and glory!”

Saskia braced herself for battle…

But the first rank of soldiers on the snowy field nearby sank to their knees in a unified show of respect for Felix, laying their weapons aside. More and more followed afterwards, in a rippling wave across the field.

For the last decade and a half, Saskia had cursed the insidious way the Archduke’s noble profile and virtues had been extolled around the continent, under the propagandist control of Count von Hertzendorff. Now, her lips curved into a smirk of pure satisfaction at the final result.

“Ohhhh.” Mirjana stepped back to murmur into Saskia’s ear, “I officially withdraw every objection. He will make a perfect partner for you after all.”

Saskia snorted. “You’re just happy to finally be working with a royal who’s willing to smile for the public.”

Mirjana rolled her eyes, but she didn’t argue. The two of them stood together in unusual amity, with Ailana on Saskia’s left, as the Golden Beacon lifted one hand to shield his eyes against the low winter sun and looked out into the crowd of kneeling soldiers.

“Lieutenant General.” He nodded briskly as he identified an officer. “Take control of the prisoners, if you please.”

“Gladly, sir. Your Highness!” The man leapt to his feet and gave two respectful salutes, first to the Golden Beacon and then to Felix… who nodded in return with all the grace to be expected of an elegant Imperial Archduke.

Gods, she couldn’t wait to get him back into bed! Saskia had to clench her fingers to hold herself back as he watched his lifelong abusers taken prisoner with perfect composure.

She knew exactly what that mask looked like when it broke… and the prospect of having that astonishing combination of courage, kindness, and passion by her side for the rest of both of their lives was more intoxicating than any magic.

“You did say it would be a good diplomatic move for Kitvaria if I wed another ruler,” she murmured thoughtfully.

Mirjana gave a quick, sharp nod. “I do give excellent advice… though I didn’t anticipate this particular alliance.”

“ Enough! ” Saskia’s uncle Yaroslav threw himself forward as the Count, still bellowing with outrage, was marched off the stage under guard of multiple soldiers. Slamming one open palm against the Golden Beacon’s closest broad shoulder, Yaroslav snapped, “This is more than enough. Your emperor sent you here to fulfil Divine Elva’s will as communicated through me, her paladin, so I could reclaim my rightful throne. Now, are you going to do your job or…?”

“Oh, Uncle.” Saskia couldn’t hold back a derisive crack of laughter as she finally stepped forward to speak. “Your friends may have bribed a weak-minded priest into giving you that trinket on your coat, but you do not serve Divine Elva’s will. Who do you think sent me the Archduke in the first place?”

“Wha— what ?” He stared at her blankly for an instant before he recovered himself. “ Heresy! Did everyone hear her? As a paladin of Divine Elva—”

“Unlike you,” Saskia informed him, “I have actually met Her. I wouldn’t recommend that you steal Her voice.”

“Regardless.” The Golden Beacon cleared his throat as he stood indomitably in place on the raised platform, unmoved by Yaroslav’s physical or verbal blows. “I was, in fact, sent to support the Archduke of Estarion with my forces and the corps of Gilded Wizards under my command. Therefore, if the Archduke himself would care to command me now…?”

“Estarion thanks you for your service.” Felix walked unhurriedly up the wooden steps to take his own place at the front of the stage. He aimed his next words at the breathless crowd. “I ask only that you return to the capital with the excellent news of Estarion’s new friendship and solidarity with Kitvaria, Balravia, and Nornne. Their rulers may be known as the so-called Queens of Villainy, but they have proved to be loyal and true.”

The general’s glinting blond eyebrows rose as his gaze shifted to sweep across the three queens… and then landed, for a long, enigmatic moment, on Lorelei’s figure.

She wiggled her fingers at him tauntingly, sending sparkles through the air. “ What a shame not to be able to trounce you today. Never mind, darling! We can play again soon, I am sure.”

Again? Saskia raised her eyebrows at Ailana. The Queen of Nornne’s shoulders lifted in a discreet shrug. Apparently, even the ice queen didn’t know all of Lorelei’s secrets.

A touch even lighter than falling snow brushed against the nape of Saskia’s neck. Then a goddess’s voice shouted inside her head: “N OW! ”

Saskia spun around, her heart thundering with the divine impact…

Just as her uncle yanked his dress sword from his belt and lunged directly at Felix. “She won’t win against me. Not again!”

The last time she’d glimpsed her uncle across a battlefield, Saskia had frozen in panic, every scathing name he’d ever called her ringing in her ears. He’d been swept away by his guards before she could recall herself to fight.

This time, she saw his sword slice towards Felix’s unarmored figure, just as another sword had sliced into her parents’ bodies nineteen years ago—and she did not hesitate.

Power exploded through the air, compressing and then exploding with a sonic boom that sent onlookers staggering and clapping hands to their ears all across the field.

The sword fell to the platform with a clatter, just beside Felix’s feet…

And a small, greyish white slug oozed helplessly on the wooden platform beside it, leaving nothing but slime in its wake.

Saskia walked up the wooden steps of the platform with her head held high and took Felix’s hand as he gave her a low, respectful bow. Standing by his side a moment later, with his fingers warmly twined through hers, she looked out at the crowd of scribbling journalists and, for once, felt pride instead of mortification.

“My uncle lied about almost everything,” she told them all with the full knowledge that her words would be repeated across the continent. “I am not a monster. My power is fully under my control, and I will never use it against anyone who hasn’t attacked my people first. But he was right about one thing: I am powerful beyond your wildest fears, and no one—including the Serafin Emperor—should ever forget that again.”

As Felix squeezed her hand in his, she looked out across the crowd and saw her fellow Queens of Villainy raising their hands in enthusiastic applause. It was such a satisfying moment that Saskia decided not to even bother stepping on her uncle afterwards.

He wasn’t worth the effort anymore.