Chapter 14 #2
Muirin fell forward, her forehead thunking against the table as though she were a puppet with its strings cut. “Thank the gods.”
“Go find a healer,” Kason ordered me.
I raised a brow at him. “You seem to forget I’ve been away from Kardonan for a number of years.”
“Yes, but?—”
“Kason, they’re not going to attack me if you leave. You know the city better than I do.” At least this part of it. I highly doubted he knew anything at all about the Slipshod.
His lips flattened into a thin line, but he finally gave me a single nod. He walked quickly back down the corridor leading to the front door, his heavy footsteps communicating his haste and his displeasure.
“How in the hells did you end up married to the most celebrated witch-hunter in the kingdom, Mokido?” Muirin asked, her voice thready with pain.
She hadn’t made any attempt to get up from the chair she’d been tied to, even now that the ropes were gone, which led me to believe the burned arm and black eye were the least of her injuries.
I rubbed a hand over the marriage mark on my wrist, somehow unsurprised she’d noticed it and the glimpse of the matching one on Kason’s skin. “It’s a long story. You won’t be able to hear it if I have to leave Kardonan by sundown.”
She chuckled. “Apologies. But what’s a girl to do when a famous witch-thief returns to the city he once owned?”
I huffed out a breath. “That’s somewhat of an overstatement.”
“Depends on your point of view.” She rolled her head sideways so she could look at me with her one good eye. “From where I’m standing—sitting,” she amended, “you’re quite the threat.”
“I have no interest in claiming any part of Kardonan.”
“Are you sure about that, with your new husband stationed here?”
“Very.” Not that I’d talked with him about it—yet—but I would have to, and soon. I shoved that worry aside and refocused on Muirin. “Why did these people attack you?”
“They kept asking me where the witches are.” She swallowed. “When I said I didn’t know, they hit Vacelle. When I still wouldn’t tell them, they kicked her. I tried to fight them, but ended up like this.” She lifted her blistered arm with a hiss, then lowered it quickly. “Ow, fuck.”
“So you don’t know where the witches have gone?”
“I don’t.”
“Rumors have it that you’re hiding them, or getting rid of them, or…something.”
“I swear I have nothing to do with them being missing. I helped maybe half a dozen get out of the city without the witch-hunters noticing, but that was a year or more ago. Nothing recent.”
“Godsdamn it.” I sank into the chair closest to Muirin and felt like resting my head on the table too.
“Why?”
“I need to find a temporal witch. Urgently.”
Her good eye widened. “If anyone ever seeks out a tempo, it’s always urgent.” She hesitated, and I could tell she was tempted to ask why…but she refrained, likely knowing, as I did, that sometimes it was better not to know. “I owe you, Mokido. If I can find a tempo for you, we’ll call it even, eh?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then let’s get me and Vacelle healed up, and I’ll see what I can wrangle.”
As nice as it would have been to have the healer take care of all of Muirin’s wounds instantly, that wasn’t how healing worked, especially not when the patient had internal injuries.
The healer’s work put both Muirin and Vacelle into a deep, healing sleep, and by the time they were laid out next to each other in what I assumed was their bed, some of Muirin’s associates had shown up.
That made for a tense moment as they demanded to know why we were in Muirin’s house with their dead colleagues, but the healer quickly confirmed that she had been summoned by us—not something an attacker would do.
In the end, we were able to leave Muirin and Vacelle with the two sprites who had confronted me outside of Allemud’s.
Then it was back to the palace to get ready for dinner.
Honestly, I would rather face a dozen armed attackers than spend a minute in the company of nobility, but it appeared I had little choice in the matter, save running away into the city by myself.
But that would hurt Kason, and I…I refused to do that.
Oh how marriage softened me.
As promised, we found “appropriate” clothing waiting for us in Kason’s quarters. If, by appropriate, you meant absolutely fucking ridiculous.
I held up the velvet brocade jacket with a tasseled hem and sleeves, my face no doubt showing my horror. “No.”
“Mo—”
“No,” I repeated. “I’ll look like…like…a peasant acting as a dandy who escaped the circus.”
Kason’s mouth twitched. “That’s very specific.”
“Well, I very specifically dislike this jacket.” I tossed it aside on the bed and groaned at the pants. They were black, but along each outer seam… “More tassels? What the hells is wrong with your brother?”
“Many things, but he does know his fashion.”
“Bullshit.”
Kason stepped into my space and nuzzled the tip of my ear, where it shoved through my hair. His hot breath made me shiver. “The color suits you,” he murmured.
“I don’t care.” Godsdamn it, my voice was so unsteady.
“Mmm. Your hair is so dark that it seems almost blue in some types of light. Like the jacket.”
“I’m not wearing fucking tassels.”
“So cut them off.”
I jerked away and turned so I could meet Kason’s eyes. “What?”
“Cut them off.” He shrugged. “If they bother you that much.”
“So scandalous, Your Highness. What will Prince Telurin think?”
“I don’t care. I want you there at my side, and if cutting them off will make you feel better…”
I held his gaze and swallowed. “I like you,” I blurted out.
A sharp, surprised laugh jolted from him. “I like you too.”
“Get me a pair of scissors?”