Page 87 of Hunt Me

Ezra rose and paced to the small window that offered a lovely view of the stables. “A slight discord that had to be dispelled. As you can imagine, Lawrence Marquis was not pleased with his daughter’s death. He demanded your execution for cheating.”

“I didn’t cheat. The ancient texts stipulate that opponents may use any weapons of choice.”

“I’m aware. The Marquises underestimated you greatly.”

“Not only the Marquises,” she mumbled.

“True. We all underestimated you somewhat, but I promise no soul will challenge you again. Word is spreading that you’re a witch.”

Matilda rolled her eyes and grumbled, “A witch? How unoriginal. You turn a vial of werewolf blood into a powdery substance, and you’re a witch. Let them think what they will. What else?”

“Lawrence Marquis disrespected King Alesi. He cursed him and spat on his boots.”

Matilda’s brows raised to her hairline. “And does Lawrence Marquis still have a tongue in his head?”

“Not for long. The House of Marquis will be eradicated by noonday.”

“That is music to my ears. Other noble houses will think twice before challenging me before the wedding.”

“Indeed.”

“I often enjoy our conversations, Ezra, but if it’s all the same to you, I’m ready for my boar stew.”

“It is only fair. You’ve earned it.”

Carefully, Ezra guided Matilda downstairs with an arm looped through hers. She barely held back a groan when they happened upon the king arm wrestling with Belzar. An arm crashed onto the table, and the gathered crowd roared.

“I demand a rematch!” Luka snarled, pushing strands of long hair out of his face.

“You have lost thrice already. Do you have any dignity left?” Belzar taunted, laughing boisterously with his head thrown back and his hands on his belly.

“Again!” Luka exclaimed, slamming the flimsy table with his fist.

Matilda grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled his head back. “Halt your embarrassment, my King,” she said, kissing his forehead before releasing him.

“If it isn’t the traitorous witch huntress herself,” Belzar grumbled once Matilda sat in her betrothed’s lap.

“Let’s not speak of traitorous. I believe someone traded me to my mortal enemy for a bag of gold.”

“Forgive me, Tilda, but the offer was too enticing.”

“What I would’ve given to be a fly on the wall and see your face when you opened your reward with glee.”

“Knowing you, you would’ve cackled yourself to death. I know I nearly did,” Belzara said, setting an enormous bowl of stew in front of Matilda.

Matilda leaned in and wafted the savory aroma.

“Belzara, you may have outdone yourself once again.”

“I put extra boar in there for you.”

“You are my green angel and will return to the castle with me. Taste, my King?” Matilda asked, offering him a spoonful. He accepted, and she grinned when his eyes lit with excitement.

“My dearest Belzara, may I trouble you with a request?”

“No more ale for you, King Alesi. You drink like a fish and will put us out of business.”

“A bowl of stew then?”