Page 68 of Witch’s Ruin

The garden was empty. Rixon’s eyes darted over the budding roses, searching the shadows. There was no sign of her. He turned, striding back through the entryway, then paused. “I’m looking for my lady witch,” he said to the guards standing at attention just outside the entrance.

“Your Highness,” they greeted.

“Have you seen her?”

They shifted. One of them finally said, “She came this way not but fifteen minutes ago, then left in a hurry.”

He frowned. “Which way did she go?”

“That way, Prince Aleksander. Towards the palace gates.”

“The palace—” He stopped himself, eyes narrowing. “You’re sure?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” they said, nodding.

He eyed them a moment longer, then turned on his heel and made his way through the palace, towards the portcullis. She wouldn’t have left the palace without him…would she?

He stopped off at the stable. Jarrow and Ferrah nickered, greeting him. He gave them each an affectionate pat. “Aleksander!” Kam strode from around the corner. “I wondered if that was you I heard.”

“Mina hasn’t been this way, has she?”

“Not that I’ve seen. No one’s been through here for a couple of hours. Is…is everything all right?”

His stomach squirmed. “Fine. Forgive me, I need to go.”

He went to the gates, already sealed tight for curfew. “Have you seen my lady witch?” he asked the guards on duty.

There was a hesitation, then, “She asked to be let out, Your Highness.”

“I thought the gates didn’t open after curfew,” he demanded. Looks were exchanged. His lips pressed into a line.

Before the nearest guard could open his mouth, he freed a Nebrine blade and pressed it against the guard’s neck. “Do not lie to me again. I will cut your fucking throat out. I don’t care who you are. I don’t care that you’re my father’s guard.” He pressed until the guard’s skin began to split. A bead of blood dripped down the guard’s neck.

“Tell me true.”

“She…went this way,” he gasped out, eyes darting.

“Then why don’t I believe you?!” He pressed the knife in, watching the guard’s skin part further.

“Please, Your Highness,” another said.

“Silence,” he hissed at them, turning back to the male at his mercy. “Give me the truth. Did she, or did she not pass this way? Did you open the gates for her? Do not lie, or I will know.”

“We opened the gates for her ten minutes ago—at her insistence. She…she threatened us with magic. With…” The guard shook his head, unable to give an answer.

He’d lied to the guard. He had no way of discerning the truth. Only a gut feeling. And in this instance, he really couldn’t tell.

His eyes darted back towards the place, then to the portcullis, sealed tight. She would have signaled him with the bond, if something was wrong, wouldn’t she? Perhaps she was angrier than he’d imagined.

His throat constricted. He stepped back, sheathing the blade. “Open the gate.”

“Your…Your highness?”

“I said, open the fucking gate.”

They jumped into action. He ducked under it before it had completely lifted, striding to the first place that came to mind. The King’s Mantle came into view. He ducked inside and spoke to the hostess. “She hasn’t come this way, Lord Wielder, I’d have known. Everyone checks in with me upon entry.” His stomach lurched.

“Rixon?” Elianna appeared, a shall wrapped tight around her shoulders. She stood in the archway of the sitting room. “Where’s Mina?”