Chapter Three
“Majesty!”
“Cole! Thank God! Where have you been?” Girion ripped open the door to his chambers.
“All the way out at one of the human fishing settlements, on the trail of a powerful mage, the daughter of a poor fisherman—and then I have been in the taverns in Frost Hills and Alban Leigh, inquiring about her and her people. She is the youngest of three, the only surviving child. Her parents are aged, honest, and of fine reputation. When their second son died, they took a mortgage out on their fishing business, including the shop and the boat. They’re not in arrears, but heading that way, and quite hard up by the looks of things, even though they bring in huge catches, and the daughter is a healer, too.
” Cole babbled as he burst in, instantly heading to the fire and kneeling in front of it, warming his hands.
Girion tried to follow the thread, struggling. Not that it was confusing, but because he only cared for one thing. Was this woman a suitable option? Or would he have to marry Lady Renata to save his people?
“There’s a Fox, some Fox living in Caledon, but not in the human settlement, who took over the mortgage payments and keeps raising the rates.
The woman, Jocasta, would probably be keen to ease her parents’ burdens with a queenly sum placed on her by her royal spouse.
And as in-laws of the King of Caledon...
Well, I imagine they’d have no more trouble with sly Foxes or even greedy humans. ”
“Money? She’d wed me for a bride price?”
“Well, sire, that’s to say nothing of the lust that will inflame her comely feminine bosom when she claps eyes on you. I told her I would be sending a friend her way tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow! But I have Lady Renata here, curse her dainty bones,” Girion hissed, pacing behind Cole as his trusted friend finally rose.
“Then you will have an excuse to escape her clutches for a while, dainty though they may be—and you had best make a good and convincing impression, sire.” Cole’s teasing smile switched off.
His eyes became serious, and his voice dropped.
“She is a strong mage, Majesty, strong enough to help heal the land, to say nothing of what a child born from your combined blood would offer. I saw her, with a little grunt and a flick of her fingers, raise hundreds of pounds of fish and float them through the air, not losing a single one, not battling the wind. She is powerful, she is a hard worker, and she is a beauty—in a human sort of way. Small in stature and sturdy. Full cheeks. Fuller lips. She looks as though she’d stick a fishing spear through any man who gave her cause. ”
Girion chuckled in spite of the tension tugging at his temples. “She sounds far more my sort than Lady Renata. But she doesn’t sound like she is one who would be easy to woo—especially not with my charms.”
“What charms?” Cole asked.
“Thank you ever so, Cole. You could be demoted, you know.”
“No, sire, I apologize. I was asking frankly. What charms? What charms do you think you need to woo?”
“Oh, I don’t know. One must be witty and deft with compliments, one must flatter and praise, and know how to dance, one must be graceful and honey-tongued...”
Cole winced. “Well, sire, I do not think Jocasta would necessarily want all of those things. Caledonian queens and kings have always been more—practical.”
“I’m honest. If I had a wife or even a betrothed, I would have to dance with her only, and that would not be so terrible. I would not have to do any ornate footwork... There is a ball coming up—”
“There is?”
“Lady Renata will leave the day after tomorrow and return in a few days’ time with her mother and perhaps some of her siblings.
The advisors and their wives—pressured by Archduke Reynard—began planning the thing after dinner.
A way to show that we have elegance and style.
That we are not all warriors and nothing else. ”
“And in reality, a chance to get tongues wagging that you and Renata are matched? A way to introduce her to the court at large?”
“What court?” Girion demanded, hands thrust out in exasperation. “I don’t sit on my throne and wait for people to entertain me all day. I have advisors and ministers. I have meetings and charitable functions! What in the name Wylding would I do with a ‘court’?”
“I know, sire, I know. But you do have one,” Cole soothed.
“It rarely assembles, but you know there are nobles, ministers, and advisors. Your court is full of good and kind people, wise and cunning people. Generals. Knights. They will not be swayed by Lady Renata’s insistence on a fancy ball full of airs and graces.
Majesty—you do not want to go through life yoked to that woman.
You, a war horse, next to a dainty prancing pony? ”
Girion ran his hand through his hair. It was white and silver, not with age, but because of his Polar Bear shifter blood.
He could brush it smooth and put it back in a plait.
He could have his beard trimmed and shaped.
He would wear his good cloak and his best boots.
“I am a diplomat, whatever they may say of me in the rest of Wylding. In three generations, we haven’t had to go to war.
I have made trade agreements. I have kept the Foxes and Leopards happy.
I have made peace with Wolves and worse.
If I approach this like a trade delegation. ..”
“But you must invite her to the ball, at least!”
“I will invite her, and I will settle her parents’ bills, pay for their boat and ship outright. She is a healer? I will offer to build her an apothecary.”
“Her parents will need help around the shop without her. She said she must do the work of three—and mind you, she is a mage, so her work is truly that of four or five.”
“I will grant them money enough to hire ten men should they need it, should she consent to consider me. We will be as allies. If she is as wise and practical as others say, she’ll take the deal, and love need never enter into it.
After all, the laws state that once the bride bears the royal name, she begins to strengthen Caledon.
If she’s powerful enough, we won’t even need to consider offspring. ” He coughed. “Not for a long time.”
Cole looked at him and said nothing—proof that he was a good friend.
“You’ll learn to be brave around her, sire,” Cole said softly, bowing.
A good friend—not a great one. Or perhaps truly great, for he dared to correct a king.
“I do not fear some tiny human mage! I am powerful in my own right!”
“All right, all right,” Cole soothed, a shushing finger to his lips.
“Don’t shush me!”
“I don’t want Lady Renata and her crawling father to hear. I think it would properly put them in their places if you showed up to this ball with a stunning mage on your arm.”
“Stunning?” His stomach twisted. How could he hope to capture the heart of someone stunning? Business matters aside, there was a small part of him that considered love, or at least necessary intimacy.
He was built with thick slabs of muscle, wide shoulders over a broad chest, a craggy face with a scarred eye... Not handsome to the female form. Sturdy. Formidable. Frightening.
Not stunning.
“Well, maybe stunning isn’t the right word, but once we let the dressmakers at her, she’ll hold her own. She’ll certainly be a novelty in court.”
“So would some mincing, convincing little Fox like Lady Renata. The only advantage is that this Jocasta will only have me in her own power, and I will have her in mine. It has a chance to be somewhat even, unlike a marriage with the royal family of Wyndwood.”
Cole just looked at him for a long moment, then sighed. “Sometimes I think you forget you’re a king. I think nearly any woman, shifter or human, would want you for that alone! Being a queen is enough to turn any girl’s head!”
“It turns hearts as well,” Girion muttered. “Thank you for the intelligence, Cole. You must take your leave.”
“You must rest and attend to a few small matters, I assume?” Cole pointed to Girion’s ragged beard and his unruly hair.
Girion glared. “Yes, that as well, but more importantly, I have to concoct some plausible excuse for my early departure tomorrow. I don’t want to seem ruder than necessary to my honored guests—in case your human mage wants nothing to do with me.”
JOCASTA STEERED THE small fishing boat back into the slip as the sun reached its watery peak at noon. The waves were rough and choppy, and the eastern breezes were stiff and even more frigid than usual.
With an effort of her will, she was able to smooth the waves over, but they fought her every inch. Sweat pooled in the lower part of her back, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to feel warm and dry for hours once her skin felt clammy.
Maybe it was true, what was whispered. Caledon’s magic was dying. The hot springs that made the land livable for non-shifters and shifters from the other kingdoms were losing heat. Drying up.
With a grunt and a heave, she hauled nets up with a thrust of her hand, and fish were strung on smoking lines with clicks of her tongue and snaps of her fingers, flying into place as she felt her magic ebbing and rebuilding.
With a catch like this, her parents ought to be able to get ahead. Get some breathing room. They could finish repairing the smokehouse, no more patch jobs. They could put on the new roof.
If that slimy Fox didn’t raise the rates again.
As she was waltzing the strings of fish back towards her parents’ store and the smokehouse behind it, she felt eyes on her.
The fish flew above her head, in long, neat lines like the tails of an elaborate kite.
When she turned, they swirled around her like a silver storm, wet bodies now instantly frozen in the freezing air.
Icy drops of water, frozen to glassy eyes and fins, caught the light and sent bursts of rainbow light onto the snow below.