Page 13 of Witch’s Ruin

King Maddox Kozma strode forward, coming to a stop ten paces away. Closer, I noticed his age more clearly, and something else. There was a sickness clinging to him, like the skin over his bones had turned waxen, as if he were merely…existing.

Another shiver raced through me.

His eyes fell on Rixon and a muscle near his temple jumped. A tick. His was a long perusal, ending in a slight sneer. I would not have recognized it, subtle as it was, were I not already familiar with Rixon’s tells.

The king turned back to me. “Thank you for bringing my son home. You may leave now.” He flicked a dismissive hand, turning back to my wielder. “Return to the Citadel or, whatever backwater place you come from.”

I snorted. “Believe me, Your Majesty, I would be all too eager, had I not seen there are demons lurking amidst your city streets, but I would be taking Rixon with me.”

“Ah. Rixon now, is it? Is that what you go by, boy?” The king’s gaze remained entirely on my wielder. I bristled but kept myself in check. From the window’s reflection, I saw that Rixon gazed back, expression unyielding. He didn’t answer.

I sighed, feigning more exasperation than I felt. “Is there a reason you summoned us tonight, Your Majesty? We are travel worn. Do make it quick. I’d like to return to my bed.”

“I don’t recall granting you a bed. It was Aleksander I summoned, not you.”

I felt the subtle twitch of Rixon, a signal through the bond.

“Let me make something abundantly clear, Your Majesty. Rixon belongs to me.”

“He belongs to his country.”

“Perhaps, once upon a time, but you chased him away.”

“I did nothing of—” He stopped himself before falling prey to my taunts. “I am not having this conversation with you. This is how things will go. You have the evening to bid your wielder goodbye. On the morrow, you will depart.”

“Or what?”

“Or you will wish you had.”

I took a step forward. “No, Your Majesty, this is how things will go. We will stay and complete our assignment, and you will explain why there are demons within your city walls.” This time, I allowed a sliver of black to seep into my gaze, just a flash of it—there and gone.

King Kozma’s gaze darted over my face. He was good, so very good, at hiding his surprise. Only a single blink. But he’d seen it.

There’d be time later to consider the move. Whether it scared him, or simply sealed my doom. It was naive to think the general hadn’t already mentioned what he’d seen from me, but if he hadn’t, secrecy was my own card to play.

“Now.” I smiled. “Explain.”

He gave a dismissive shrug, as if admitting defeat, or rather, pretending to. He’d known I wouldn’t give up easily. Just as the general had known his attempt to kill me wouldn’t be successful. But he’d needed to try, after all.

I doubted his future attempts would be so straightforward, especially with his not-so-subtle threat. It if was a game of cat and mouse he wanted, fine. I was up for the task.

The king strode over to a liquor cabinet and poured himself a drink. He didn’t offer us one. A calculated move—everything with him was calculated. He strode to the sitting area and took a seat, motioning us forward with his hand before propping an ankle on his knee, leaning back, the epitome of ease. Feigned ease.

I took a seat across from him, aware of Rixon’s presence. My wielder didn’t sit, he remained standing. It’s what any wielder would have done. He certainly played the role well, when he wasn’t barking commands at me in the bedroom.

The king gave a quiet snort, aware of his son’s position. “How does it feel,” he said to me, “making Raeria’s prince subservient to you? A no-name-witch, and you’ve got him crawling on hands and knees.”

“Oh,” I huffed. “It feels incredible. Especially when he’s on his knees.”

A tug at our bond—a silent, smug snort—came from Rixon.

The king sneered, looking me over. Even sitting, he had mastered the ability to peer down his nose. “I always knew my son had his faults, but I never imagined he’d stoop so low.”

“Yes, it illustrates the lengths he was willing to go, doesn’t it? To escape his father—his crown. I can’t imagine what that says about you. Except, I don’t need to imagine.”

Again, I offered him a cutting smile.

“Enough of this, Lady Witch. If you wish to play games, I’ll match you word for word.”