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Slowly, I lifted my head to look each of them in the eye. Chief Ramathos blinked, as if he were unaccustomed to direct eye contact from someone he’d been shouting at.

“I am the Mage King,” I said, my voice soft yet lethal. “I do not answer to the chiefs any longer. I will be continuing with this investigation as I see fit, regardless of your ill will. The witch will be closely supervised. When I have uncovered the extent of her grandmother’s crimes, I will report back to you. But until then, I am the only one with all the information. And that is how it will stay.”

Chief Gorem was on his feet now, too, his eyes dark with fury. “Be wary, Alaric. Continue down this path, and your people will riot. You may have the power now, but if you lose your kingdom’s trust, you will be removed from the throne by force.”

I stiffened at the usage of my name, clearly intended to be a slight. My hands curled into fists at my sides as I glared at each chief in turn. “If you believe I will lose my people’s faith over a single witch, then our kingdom is far worse off than I thought. Not all witches are the same. Just as not all Mages are the same. Do you truly think it impossible that there is a witch out there willing to help us? Willing to work alongside a Mage?”

The chiefs’ expressions were stony as they gazed back at me. But for the briefest of seconds, Chief Gorem’s eye twitched. I stared hard at him, but to his credit, he never broke eye contact.

“I don’t want this feud with the witches to continue,” I went on. “Perhaps this is the first step we must take.”

Chief Korvus was stroking his chin, his expression contemplative. But the other three chiefs watched me with a mixture of doubt and pity.

“My lords,” I said curtly before turning and leaving the room.

I was halfway down the hall when a voice stopped me.

“Your Majesty!”

Frowning, I turned to find Chief Korvus striding toward me, his smaller legs working furiously to close the distance between us. When he did, he was panting with exertion.

“Chief Korvus,” I said slowly, wondering what he could possibly want.

He reached inside the pocket of his kilt and withdrew a gold coin attached to a chain. “I wanted you to have this. I understand the Wolven trinket was never recovered. But tradition dictates the Mage King should have one, so I would like to offer you mine.”

My eyes grew wide as I took in the totem with the symbol of a raven etched into it. I still had the Wolven totem tucked away in my rooms. I hadn’t found the right moment to reveal it to the chiefs, and now, I wasn’t entirely certain I would.

A lump formed in my throat at the gentle smile Chief Korvus offered me. “Why are you giving me this?” I asked in a weak voice.

“Because you are the first Mage in centuries who has spoken of ending our feud with the witches. I, for one, have tired of it. So, this is my demonstration of support. Should any conflict arise over your actions as king, you should know that I fully support you.”

Something warm and unexpected flooded my chest, making it difficult to breathe. I ran my fingers over the edges of the raven insignia, feeling unexpectedly emotional at this gesture from a chief I hardly knew.

I cleared my throat and swallowed hard. “This means a great deal to me, Chief Korvus. I greatly appreciate your support.” I reached out and clasped his arm.

His bushy eyebrows lifted, his eyes crinkling with another smile. “Best of luck to you, Your Majesty. I hope you uncover the answers you’re looking for.” He bowed once before turning and striding down the hall.

Thirty

THE WITCH

After Alaric left, a tray of buttered bread, sliced meat, and fresh fruit was brought to my room, which I practically inhaled. Then, Fiona insisted she stay to help me undress for my bath. I attempted a few fruitless tugs at my corset and eventually concluded I was hopeless on my own, so I agreed. She deftly tugged on my corset strings until the boning came loose, and I heaved a breath of relief. After that, it was quick work undressing me. In seconds, I was standing there wearing nothing but my shift.

Fiona withdrew a folded towel from the armoire and placed it on the bed. “Do you need me to help you wash?”

“That won’t be necessary, thank you.”

Fiona bobbed a quick curtsy before she left.

Just like my first night in this room, I dug out the candlesticks from the armoire and vanity. Using the flames from the hearth, I lit each one and placed them around the perimeter of the room.

This time, the magic flowed out of me instantly. It was as simple as breathing. I willed my power to life, and it obeyed. My hands swept through the air, and energy sparked from my fingertips. The spell swelled around me, tickling my skin and filling my nostrils with the familiar clove scent I knew so well. Warmth pressed in on me, and the flames from the candles blazed as my wards settled into place.

Within moments, the spell was complete, and I relaxed my arms, a small smile lighting my face. I thought of the terrified witch from a few days ago who had nearly cried herself to sleep in fear of someone breaking in and attacking her.

That witch was long gone now.

I slid out of my shift and eased into the tub of hot water with a low groan. For several minutes, I let myself sit there, eyes closed as the relaxing water surrounded me. Everything else fell away, and my mind emptied of all concerns and worries.