Page 27 of Witch’s Ruin

People milled about, chatting, but they offered wide-eyed bows and respectful greetings. Whispers echoed in their wake, about his return, about the woman on his arm. Neither he, nor Mina, wore gloves to cover the markings on their hands. He hoped it would irk his father.

Already, more than half the table was occupied. He reached for Mina’s chair, not trusting a servant to the job, and scooted her in, taking his own afterward. His father’s remained empty, as did the four chairs across from him. Probably for his father’s advisors.

“All hale King Kozma!” a voice called. Those already seated rushed to their feet. He scoffed, then stood, taking Mina’s hand, helping her with her chair. This was the kind of pomp he hated. So fucking excessive. Standing and sitting—sitting and standing.

The king was dressed smartly in a military style uniform. As if he’d seen battle. He strode to his chair and a servant rushed forward to help him settle. Once he was seated, everyone else did the same, stragglers racing to grab theirs before the dining room doors closed.

The chairs across from him were pulled out—

Mina choked, more of a laugh than anything. A moment later, he saw why. “Fuck me,” he hissed, barely loud enough for her.

Trudy Holland, dressed in an obnoxious mint colored gown, her flaming hair piled atop her head, took a seat across from him. Her father, Diego Holland, took up the chair closest to the king. A third was filled by a younger red-head, near spitting image of Trudy. Gods, two of them? Finally the fourth was occupied by a man near his age, also red hair, but his was cropped close. He wore a fine tunic and looked as if everything around him smelled unpleasant.

The man’s eyes darted to Rixon’s. He merely lifted an eyebrow, staring him down, until the man looked away. A brother, then, most likely. How many fucking Hollands were there? Were they all as obnoxiously annoying as Trudy?

“I take it you don’t recognize the brother, either?” Mina teased, leaning over to quietly speak in his ear. He threw her a glare. She merely grinned back.

Oh, he had plans for his lady witch. They were only growing darker—

“Welcome, welcome.” The king lifted a hand to speak. Silence fell. Heads leaned around heads as nearly one hundred patrons attempted to get a look at the king. “Tonight’s dinner is particularly special. My son has found his way home, at last.” His father motioned towards him. A polite round of applause sounded. Rixon didn’t clap. Neither did Mina.

Trudy looked as if she might damage her hands, for how hard she beat them together. Was this to be his punishment, then? Staring at her across the table for an entire meal? She caught his gaze and smiled. There was something about it that sent alarm bells ringing.

“Now, let’s lay on the good news. With Aleksander’s return, we may finally begin preparations for another joyous occasion. I believe congratulations are in order for a certain happy couple. Better late than never. Let us all raise a glass to Aleksander Kozma and Trudy Holland. May their marriage be prosperous.”

Mina choked. Around the table, drinks lifted into the air. “Fuuuck,” he hissed, eyes darting towards Trudy, who sat beaming.

“To Aleksander and Trudy,” voices echoed, goblets clinking.

His skin flushed hot. A light perspiration broke across his brow. His eyes darted around the room, not quite seeing.

So, this was his father’s next move? His lips curled, teeth bared. He made to stand, to storm from the room. Mina’s hand found his leg, holding him in place. “Breathe,” she whispered against his ear. “Just breathe, Rixon.”

He tried to rip his leg from her touch. “You will not react,” she ordered, pulling on the bond. “Calm down.” The force of it, the pull of her words, instantly grounded him. “That’s better,” she whispered, but she did not release him. Instead, she quickly raised her own goblet and clinked it with the person beside her, drinking her fill. An act. She was playing along.

Jaw clenched, his teeth nearly cracked.

This was what his father wanted—for him to make a scene. Mina was smarter, but at this moment, he didn’t care. He fucking hated his father.

When he turned, he found the king’s gaze on him. A slow, victorious smile stretched across Maddox’s lips. “Congratulations on your new bride, Aleksander.”

“I don’t remember proposing,” he said, keeping his voice calm, only because the bond forced him to.

“I proposed on your behalf.”

“I see. And when was this decided?”

“Diego is one of my closest advisors. We made plans decades ago, did we not?”

Diego nodded. “Certainly, Your Majesty. Trudy and I, all of the Hollands, are most honored. We cannot wait to join your family.”

“Of course you can’t,” Rixon muttered, his voice deadly calm. Beside him, Mina merely witnessed everything taking place, her eyes calculating.

How the fuck was she so relaxed? He wanted to shake her. To scream at her. This is what happens! he wanted to say. This is why you cannot underestimate him. This is why we never should have come here. But instead, her leash forced him to remain composed.

And yet…just beneath her facade, he noticed her fury. She hid it well, but he knew her better than anyone. Knew she had pushed it down deep, for the sake of doing what needed to be done.

Her hand against his leg stroked back and forth, trying to calm him. He felt her love through the bond. A quiet sigh left his nose. He needed to trust her. That’s what the bond was built on. Trust.