Page 11 of Witch’s Heart

“Of course.”

“And don’t forget an apple.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Lady Witch,” Henrick said, pulling Jarrow away. I watched fondly as my good boy trotted off, eager with the prospect of a treat. There were few people I trusted with my horse, but Henrick was one. He had been managing the stables for as long as Jarrow had been here. He knew what the creature meant to me.

I turned to Meredith, resigned. “Lead the way.”

Meredith led me through the familiar corridors of the Citadel. For a moment, it felt as though I’d never left, like everything was exactly how it had always been. Except I had left, and nothing would ever be the same. I was changed—irrevocably. And if I didn’t keep a tight leash on myself whilst here, everyone would know it.

“Here we are,” said Meredith, opening a door I’d only passed through once before.

I faltered before starting forward again. The entire round table was occupied, filled with a mix of gazes, some accusing, others curious. Most were witches, their wielders standing against the nearby wall to observe. However, a few seasoned wielders were given chairs. I knew each person in some capacity or other, having taken classes from most of them. My eyes fell on a familiar face and my shoulders relaxed.

Herrin came to his feet. “Lady Witch,” he said, his voice warm.

“Head Wielder.”

He came around the table and enveloped me in an unexpected hug before taking hold of my shoulders to inspect me. “You look well.”

“As well as can be expected.” I offered him a sheepish grin.

“And Rixon?”

I opened my mouth⁠—

A throat cleared. I froze, remembering the rest of the room.

“Well, yes, we can catch up later.” Herrin clapped me on the back before returning to his seat beside the head witch. Fiona sat glaring at one of the other council witches, Skye.

Meredith took the only remaining chair, leaving me to stand; it seemed they had called a full council. I shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. I hadn’t expected to feel so ill at ease during their interrogation. We hadn’t even gotten started. Willing the thing inside me to remain calm, I plastered an indulgent expression on my face.

“Thank you for answering my summons, Lady Witch,” said Fiona. “Your journey went well, I trust?”

“As well as can be expected. We encountered a few small packs of demons—the last just about a day out, but managed all right.”

Fiona nodded. Herrin’s eyes gleamed. The others might not know, but he knew how perfectly capable I was at handling more than just magic. Even now, I could feel the phantom double blades strapped to my back, hidden within folds of air. I had him to thank for it. Convincing him to train me hadn’t been easy, and he’d never treated me softly, but I was better for it.

“I am sure you understand the severity of your summons,” said Fiona. I nodded. “Good. Then, please, explain your circumstances to the council.”

“My wielder has accepted the role as Raeria’s ruling monarch. He was crowned last week⁠—”

“Such a thing is forbidden,” said Leilani, clenching the edge of the table’s surface. She was a darker skinned female with sleek lines and a powerful voice. I’d seen her summon countless demons in summoning stars, but had otherwise had little interaction with her. “We do not mix the politics of the crown with those of the Citadel.”

“Did you know your wielder was the crown prince?” Phoebe asked. I knew her better than the others, having taken several of her courses.

“His title was just as much a surprise to me as it is to you, I can promise you that.” Not a lie. I was surprised to discover it, and I certainly hadn’t known when we’d sworn our oath.

Would I have refused him otherwise?

“You understand that we cannot allow this…this breach of conduct,” said Skye. “It goes against everything we are.” She threw Fiona a challenging look, as if expecting the head witch to throw me in a cell this very moment. Not that cells could hold witches. We had enough of our own power that such a thing would be difficult.

“She should be stripped of her bond,” someone muttered under their breath. The mere thought had me recoiling. Never mind that I didn’t know such a thing was possible. Every witch needs a wielder. I glanced around, trying to catch the source. Gianna gave me a challenging glare.

“What would you have me do?” I looked at Fiona.

Fiona did not speak.

“I think it is obvious, no?” Moriah crossed her arms. “Your wielder must abdicate.”