Witch’s Heart (Lady Witch #5)

Chapter 1

Rixon

Rixon felt the chill of cold metal against his pointer finger as the high keeper, Nadia, slid the royal ring into place.

His father’s ring. His eyes fixed on it.

The seal mocked him, an archway with two crossed swords.

The family name Kozma sat below the sigil.

The same arch that chained him to this place.

The same arch his forefathers had bled for.

Why hadn’t he questioned the significance of it before?

His palm smarted, but he ignored the lingering sting of the wound, keeping his bandaged hand gloved.

A throat cleared.

He blinked, focusing on the coronation words required of him. “With this ring, I promise to wield my power with wisdom and integrity.”

His voice was empty.

Next came the ceremonial sword. Nadia went down on one knee, lifting it as an offering.

He leaned forward and took it, standing to belt it in place.

Nadia took several steps back, her gray robes whispering over the flagstones of the throne room.

“With this sword, I promise to protect Raeria with strength and honor.”

He resumed his position on the throne—his father’s throne. Except, no, it wasn’t. His father was dead. And this nightmare? It wasn’t really a nightmare, just his new reality.

The whisper of shifting bodies, low coughs, and throats clearing faded into the distance as another keeper appeared, this one younger.

She held a red pillow cushioning the crown.

The sight of it made his insides squirm.

Mina was supposed to be here for this. He wanted her here, even if she was barely speaking to him.

The high keeper took the crown reverently, then stepped beside the throne to place it atop his head. He opened his mouth to speak, then hesitated. Hundreds of eyes stared back at him. The high keeper cleared her throat again, prompting him.

“With this crown, I promise to rule Raeria with mercy and fairness.”

“Let it be known,” she murmured. The words were taken up by the group of keepers standing beside the dais.

The crowd repeated them. “Let it be known.”

Let it be known…that he was caged. That he was the only thing standing between the kingdom and a portal to hell. That he’d never chosen this, but was here by his own doing. It was his blade that brought about the ruin of his father.

“Long live King Kozma!” The high keeper’s cry made him flinch.

“Long live King Kozma,” the crowd repeated, erupting into cheers.

He wanted to slink into the darkness, wanted to disappear into obscurity.

No, what he really wanted was Mina in his arms. He wanted things to go back to the way they were.

Long days on the road, nights sleeping beneath the stars, with his lady witch in his arms. He wanted his lips on hers.

To be wrapped around her, inside her, listening to the sounds she made as he brought her to climax.

Only now, those sounds were merely an echo in his mind.

Two weeks—two fucking weeks she’d been in that Nebrine cell.

He thought of his efforts to locate the missing keys. Courtiers formed a line, coming before him to swear oaths of fealty. He didn’t hear a single word. All he could see was his lady witch, stuck in that cell when she should have been here.

Would she forgive him after she was free? She had barely spoken to him over the past two weeks. Single words, or nothing at all. The betrayal she felt over what he’d done, accepting the crown, it was understandable. He got it. He really did. But she wasn’t entirely innocent, either.

Maybe it was unfair that he partly blamed her for bringing them here. For putting them within reach of his father. He’d warned her not to underestimate him.

He pushed the thought away, angry with himself for thinking it. Mina was his to protect and he’d failed. Just another reason for her to hate him.

He clenched his jaw.

If she weren’t in that cell, would she even be here right now?

Would she stand beside him, supporting him when she was so adamantly against what he’d done?

Or would she slink off to hide in his apartment?

Worse still, would she renounce him and flee to the Citadel?

Could a witch do such a thing? A bond was for life, surely she couldn’t get out of it.

He’d never heard of broken bonds, except in death.

The remainder of the evening passed in a blur of irritation as the celebratory ball commenced.

He did his duty, greeting various ambassadors from neighboring countries, all here to congratulate him and form alliances.

He caught a flash of emerald green and locked eyes on Trudy Holland.

She stood with a drink in hand, chatting with Reginald Weiss, the Carthian ambassador.

The thought of Carth brought a dull ache to his temples.

“Looks as though your father won in the end.” Speak of the devil—General Kev Ralston appeared beside him.

“You have some nerve, General.” He spoke through clenched teeth, his hot temper rising.

Ralston took up a stance beside him, looking out over the crowd in much the same manner, and said, “Last I checked, my position affords me the right to attend both the crowning and the ceremonial ball. Unless, perhaps, you plan to remove me from power?”

“Don’t tempt me.” He wanted to. Gods only knew he did. But Kev Ralston was a distinguished military figure. Truth be told, he didn’t have the luxury of removing all his father’s close friends from their positions.

Ralston followed his gaze and grunted. “I see she’s moved on rather quickly. It was careless of you to dissolve your betrothal. We need her father’s mines. Speaking of…where is your beloved witch this evening?”

“The mines are in Raeria, hence, they belong to us regardless.” It was a convenient answer to ignore Ralston’s bait about Mina.

“A marriage with the Hollands would have increased the Nebrine tithe ten-fold. Or did you not look over your father’s contracts when you took up his crown.”

“Enough, General.” He felt the pulse of a headache building between his eyebrows. “I’m not interested in discussing this.”

“No? Then how about we discuss your rash decision to pull our forces from our invasion of Carth?”

He rounded on Kev, working to keep his anger in check. “I’ve spent the past two weeks repairing our relations with Carth. Even now, Reginald Weiss barely tolerates us. Let alone King Zakaria.”

“Weiss looks pretty tolerant from where I’m standing.”

Rixon’s eyes darted back over to Miss Holland just in time to see her place a hand on Weiss’s arm. She leaned in, whispering something, and the two of them disappeared onto the dance floor.

“Well, good,” he grunted. “Maybe she can help undo some of the damage you’ve caused.”

Ralston tsked. “Your father would be so disappointed.”

“Perfect. I hope he is rolling over in his grave. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He didn’t wait for a reply before striding away. Perhaps he could find another quiet place to lurk—

“Your Majesty!” Lord Sandro Haspel’s deep voice rang out behind him. Fucking hell. “A moment, please!”

He blew out a breath, then spun on his heel. Mustering a pleasant voice he said, “Lord Haspel. Good to see you.”

Haspel bowed, then stood and straightened the lapels on his jacket. “Have you given any more thought to my proposition? Raeria’s citizens are relying on my merchants.”

“I’m aware. Implementing a new program takes time.”

“What about the rumors of this new demon repellent, eh? Perhaps if they are true, I wouldn’t even need additional guards.”

“Mere rumors. But if not, I’ll be the first to invest—”

“Oh! There you are!” came a breathless voice. Elliana appeared beside him, her wielder, Viktor, escorting her.

He inhaled. “Lady Witch. Lord Wielder.”

Haspel looked as if he wanted to protest at the interruption.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Elianna said, “but a grave matter requires your attention—immediately.”

“Right. Lord Haspel, we will speak at the next council meeting.” He strode off, Elianna and Viktor beside him.

“You could have intervened earlier,” he half-growled.

“Sorry, I got distracted.” Elianna shared a look with Viktor before blushing. The world quieted as they slipped out of the ballroom into an adjacent corridor. Elianna bit her lower lip with uncertainty. “I was hoping Mina would be here. Is she still unwell?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” That had been the only excuse he could think up.

With the ability to heal, witches didn’t get physically ill, but they could suffer from ailments of the mind like anyone else.

His father’s passing, all the stress it had placed upon him, had caused Mina enough discomfort that she’d shut herself away—or so the story went.

A nervous jitter had him slipping his hands into his pockets. If he didn’t free her soon, he’d need a better excuse. Something more long-term.

“That’s too bad.” Elianna gave him an arch look. “She’s not pregnant, is she? No, wait, that’s none of my business.”

“No.” But, damn, that might have worked well as an excuse. Better than admitting that his lady witch had some kind of demonic magic, making it impossible to free herself from a pair of Nebrine shackles and a Nebrine cell. He needed to keep searching.

Taking a step back he said, “Thanks for the rescue. Mina’s probably missing me. I’d better go check on her.”

Before they could reply, he spun on his heel and strode off through the palace.

He reached his apartment, hesitating at the door.

His hand hovered over the knob but…his chest pinched.

He didn’t want to go inside. It still smelled like Mina, even weeks later.

He didn’t want to be reminded of his failure to free her.