Chapter Fourteen
Jocasta walked down to the stockade, fury shaking every ounce of her body.
Her dress was still stained. She hadn’t taken it off, letting the sight of Girion’s blood strengthen her.
Fire danced from the tips of her fingers when she remembered the way his last words—well, what he had believed to be his last words—were declarations of love. For her.
“You almost took away the first thing I have let myself love in many years,” Jocasta announced, storming past a perfect storm of guards.
Herrick trailed her, and she saw him shake his head when some of the guards began to move forward.
The message was clear. Jocasta the Just had come to take a bit of justice for her beloved Girion the Great.
Nemo cowered in his cell, draped in his discarded clothes. “He attacked me.”
“No. He chased you. You ran. Why?”
Jocasta knew, of course. Girion was awake and talking, claiming he felt fine. Cole and the royal physician were practically sitting on him to keep him in bed and resting.
“I have no idea. I guess he didn’t like that I used to know your family.”
“Nemo. Which means No One. But you were called Mr. Reynard. You know... I found out that in the olden days, many royal and noble families gave their servants their household name. Reynard—that isn’t a common name in Caledon.
It’s much more common in certain regions of Wyndwood, in particular, the royal city.
The Archduke and Archduchess Reynard come from a very old family.
They presumably have very old lines, maybe old family retainers who took their name.
” She shrugged. “Or it could be a coincidence. Who knows? Who cares? What matters is that you bit my husband. You almost killed the King of Caledon. I’m fairly certain you can be executed for that. ”
“Yes,” Herrick said. One cold, firm word that made Nemo sit up in the corner of his cell.
“Which is entirely stupid, because you, at worst, committed some acts of sharp practice with money, and at best, were ignorant of the law. But then you ran—and apparently you said some most unkind things about humans.”
“Treason. Treason against Queen Jocasta.” Murmurs began to run through the guards.
“Oh, a person is free to say what they think, unkind and ignorant though it may be.”
“I didn’t think the king would approve. He was asking questions he had no right to ask!”
“You were a guest in his home. Attacking someone in their home is frowned upon in polite circles.” Jocasta walked to the bars of the cell.
Her fingers touched the metal, and her exhaustion vanished.
Fire flooded her palms, and she grit her teeth as her hands stung.
“What are the bars made of, Herrick? Iron?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Heats quickly.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good for cooking,” she mused, eyes fixed on the prisoner, who quickly bolted away from the iron bars and stone walls.
“Stone ovens. Those are useful for baking.”
“Stop it. You’re not going to—”
Jocasta gripped the bars, and a scream ripped right from her soul as she looked at the blood on her dress and recalled Girion’s glassy eyes. The bars glowed red-hot in seconds. The guards stood still. Nemo, Reynard, whoever he was, started turning in circles, gasping for air.
“Talk,” Herrick said as she stopped screaming and stepped back, panting.
The prisoner hissed, “You can’t—”
“Please don’t do that again,” Herrick said softly. “She can. She will. And we’ll help her sweep up your ashes when she’s done, and we’ll use them to grit the palace steps after the next ice storm.”
The Fox licked his lips, looked around at his wardens, the cell, and the apparently deranged queen on the other side of the bars. “Nemo is the alias I was given. My papers say Reynard, because that’s my name. My family has served the Archduke’s family for ages.”
“Why are you out in the human settlements of Caledon making sly deals if you should be back in Wyndwood?” a voice rasped.
Jocasta turned and bolted to the figure in the shadows. “Girion! I told you to rest!” she cried.
“I didn’t want to. I remembered something,” Girion whispered, voice hoarse, face gaunt as he stepped into the light, trailed by a furious Cole. “When I danced with Lady Renata, I mentioned I wanted to wed you because you knew the meaning of the word work. And she said you stank of fish guts.”
Jocasta looked horrified.
“You didn’t. If you had, that wouldn’t have mattered.
Polar Bear shifters love fish, guts, bones, and all,” Girion came to stand beside her, putting his arm around her waist, clinging to her as she clung to him.
“But I remembered at the time wondering how she knew that you ran a fishing boat, that you worked in your parents’ shop.
No one knew you were in the palace but the men I trusted, faithful guards and servants.
Even if you were known to be from one of the settlements outside of Frost Hills and Alban Leigh, why would she assume you, dressed like a princess, were a fishmonger’s daughter?
Unless,” Girion turned his gaze to the Fox in the cell, “unless they already knew about you.”
The Fox held up his hands. “It wasn’t my idea!
The Archduke wanted any mages who were potential queens to be driven out of the area.
There are a few mages here and there, but they’re older, men, or married.
Nothing you’d want, sire. And I’m sorry about the throat.
You know what they say about cornered animals, heh. ” He gave a nervous laugh.
“Be driven out of the area?”
“Forced to leave Wylding and search for the human world or, at least, the warmer kingdoms. If Lady Renata was King Girion’s only choice, they counted on him to take it to save Caledon.
And then Reynard would have his paw in the pots of two kingdoms, uncle to the Prince of Wyndwood, father-in-law to the King of Caledon.
Lady Renata is as much his pawn as he is hers.
They wanted this marriage ruined, too. Anti-human sentiment stirred up, the marriage called a sham, a token to appease the minorities.
.. I just collected the money. I never hurt anyone. I never did anything but listen.”
“And run your mouth. And bite.” Girion looked at Jocasta. “I heard you scream.”
“Fire comes from a place in your soul. At least, that’s where it comes from with me. Pure pain. Agony.” She wiped her eyes and showed him her blackened palms. “He almost took you from me,” she whispered.
“But you wouldn’t allow that. What is your proper name, Fox?”
“Leo Reynard.”
“Will you testify before a magistrate about the Archduke’s machinations?”
“If that means what he wanted to happen, then yes. Provided I’m allowed to live to do so.”
“After your testimony is given, you will be banished. So will Reynard, his wife, and children. If any of you ever set foot in Caledon again, the punishment will be death.”
The Fox gulped, then nodded. “I don’t much care for Caledon, anyway, if it’s all the same to you.”
“It’s very convenient to us. Cole. Herrick. Take him to the prison and have him brought on charges of treason and attempted murder. Find a magistrate who can meet us next week. Have the Minister of Justice, what is his name...”
“Fernhart,” Cole supplied.
“Have Fernhart arrange everything for next week.”
“Next week? Sire, I’m sure with how dire this matter is, it can happen tonight!”
“I’m injured. Severely. I need to rest.” Girion winked at the two men and guided Jocasta away. “A week is what we need, minimum.”