Page 49 of Poisoned Kingdom (Secrets of Dagome #1)

Reynard

T hree weeks. Three godsdamned weeks, and the only contact I’d had from that woman was the crumpled note sitting on my desk. She always had an excuse for not answering my summons, and now here I was, staring at the bloody thing like it held the answers to all my problems.

I’d received the letter while walking around the gardens like a simpering fool. My fingers were clasped around a hangover draught, hoping she was just unwell and not ignoring my invitation, when a messenger arrived with the note.

I picked it up again, reading the challenging scrawl for what felt like the hundredth time.

King Reynard,

You’ll be pleased to hear my plan succeeded, and the war of succession in the Brotherhood has been disrupted. Everyone’s scrambling to make new alliances and regroup, so you can thank me later.

Roksana

P.S. Apologies. I was busy with the arch healer and forgot about the meeting. Also, my window is nailed shut.

I crumpled the parchment in my fist again, a reaction I couldn’t seem to stop each time I read it. My pride wouldn’t let me chase after an unwilling woman. Instead, I took it as a sign that I should follow Ciesko’s advice and stay away from her.

All for nothing.

Neither time nor distance cured the burning need to see her. If anything, it’d gotten worse, distracting me from my work.

Did she think her trick at the feast was enough to earn her freedom?

I’d learned more about what occurred during the Mabon feast from Boyan.

He’d delivered the information in person, the ailing man so animated when he spoke about Roksana that even if he’d lied when I presented him with her silver hairpin, I didn’t have the heart to punish him.

From the pride in his voice when he informed me of her new position, to the narrowing of his eyes when asked for updates on her whereabouts, it was clear she held a unique place in the man’s heart.

Ciesko held no such qualms. He happily gossiped about every lesson, and in such detail, that something felt off.

I could barely get a word in edgewise and was always left wondering if I’d missed something.

This, together with the reports from my Observers, gave me a glimpse into her life and insight into her growing skills. And for some time, that was enough.

But what they’d failed to mention was her laughter; the slight narrowing of her eyes when she found my attitude annoying; or her dry wit, which often resulted in the most delicious of insults. Reports were just not enough, and my resolution to stay away was crumbling at its foundations.

‘Sire, today’s report is here,’ my scribe announced as he walked in and placed a folder on my desk.

I squeezed the bridge of my nose, but the simmering anger didn’t want to abate. The front page already told me what I could find inside, each blasted page containing the same name. Irsha Vilkor—the man shadowed her wherever she went.

‘What do we know about the Blade, Vilkor?’ I asked, more to centre my thoughts than because I cared about what my scribe had to say.

‘Your Majesty?’ he asked, confused, before clearing his throat.

‘Well . . . he’s the youngest chapter master in the Brotherhood’s history, unbeatable with daggers, and has never failed a contract.

Our intel reports that he and Lady Roksana—’ I held up a hand and sighed, unwilling to listen about another man’s prowess, especially if it involved my Viper.

I understood that the dangerous aura around the assassin could be attractive to women, but if Sana liked big brutes skilled with weapons, why not choose one who’d won a fucking war?

‘Forget it,’ I said, returning to my seat.

Settled at my desk once more, I noticed a sheet I’d missed in the report with an address and deed of ownership.

I knew Sana had bought a house, but the official records took time to arrive.

I glanced at it briefly, already aware that she was living with the dwarf, but the title on the deed made me question my eyesight.

The property was registered under the names of Mr and Mrs Orenson.

The blood ran cold in my veins. What’s that woman up to now?

‘Veles’ pit, what a mess,’ I said, opening a bottle of wine while trying to make sense of the situation. My office was my sanctuary, but the dark wood and soft fabrics no longer brought me comfort. I waved a hand over the fae light when the shadows deepened.

What game are you playing, Viper? Is this your way of making me come to you? I wondered, shaking my head. ‘You’re in for a rude awakening, woman,’ I groused, raking a hand through my unruly hair.

I’d let it grow long, shaving only one side, using the thick, wavy strands to veil the worst of my scar—and the empty socket where my eye used to be.

My fingers brushed the strap of my eyepatch, and I huffed a bitter laugh.

‘Reynard, you bloody idiot. Mooning over a woman who can’t even spare time to see you. ’

I pushed back from the desk, wincing as the chair scraped across the stone. My eyes drifted towards the tall, arched window that framed the city below. Truso’s lights sparkled like a thousand stars, its bustling nightlife thriving under its innocent facade.

The temptation grew in my core. I stood immobile, fighting my instincts, wanting to see her, to find out why the master of the Blades kept her company so often, why she went by Mrs Orenson. Why everyone had her attention . . . except me.

What if someone’s stopping her—blackmailing her, perhaps? What if she’s in trouble while I’m sitting safely behind a desk, observing the world from above?

‘That’s a big bag of sweaty bollocks.’ I sighed. ‘Fuck it, I can’t sleep anyway,’ I muttered, calling for a servant.

A few moments later, I was dressed in the same outfit as dozens of other revellers that filled the streets at night. If that wasn’t enough to conceal my identity, the wolf mask’s enchantment would do the rest.

My servant gave me a disapproving stare when I fastened a short sword and duelling shield to my belt, but he’d learned long ago to keep any comments to himself.

‘Leave the passage open,’ I said. ‘And pull the guard. He won’t be needed tonight.’

Only a select few knew of the hidden corridor that led from the royal wing, through the old dungeons, and out to the river.

I kept it that way, enjoying this gateway to freedom, but since I’d learned how Roksana had used it to sneak into my rooms, I’d kept it guarded—at least while I was in the palace.

‘Yes, my lord. Shall I wait up for your return?’

I shook my head. ‘No. Come back in the morning.’

Once he’d gone, I pulled a cloak over my shoulders, the hood casting my mask in shadow. Then I slipped into the night and went to find some answers.

It didn’t take long to reach the hidden door in the dockside warehouse.

The property was owned by the Crown and kept purposefully empty.

If I’d had any doubts about blending in, they faded when I was engulfed in the crowd of rowdy sailors, merchants hoping for one last trade, and patrons strolling back and forth between establishments.

I vaguely knew the directions to Sana’s house from the address in the report. It was in the artisan’s quarter, an area full of houses with private courtyards, arched windows, and cosy gardens.

It wasn’t a bad place to live, but the description of green window frames and a tiered red roof were useless in the dark.

I needed to ask someone, and the opportunity arose in the form of a street urchin who tried to steal my money.

Once I caught his wrist, I pulled the child to the side of the avenue.

‘You’ll get a coin if you tell me where I can find the dwarf who recently moved into this quarter with his human wife,’ I said.

The child whimpered—more in fear than pain, as I was careful not to squeeze too tightly—before he pointed to a small house at the end of the street.

‘The dwarf and his mage moved into that one,’ he babbled, simultaneously attempting to escape my grasp while holding his free hand out for the coin.

I pulled one out, and it disappeared, the kid running off the moment I released him.

Time to explain yourself, Viper, I thought, striding beneath the carved archway leading to Roksana’s house, dropping my hood as soon as I was out of direct view of onlookers.

‘Who the fuck are you, and why are you asking about my Sana?’ a muffled voice came from the left, followed by the unmistakable touch of cold steel at my throat.

His Sana. The phrase reverberated in my mind, stoking the flames of my ire.

‘Lower your weapon or I’ll gut you,’ I answered in an equally threatening tone, but the man only laughed.

‘Oh, I’d like to see you try,’ he answered confidently as he shifted behind me, the blade pressing evenly against my skin. It had to be the Blades master. My fists tightened with the need to confront him as I fought my instincts.

‘Take that wretched blade away from my neck,’ I snarled, my body trembling in anticipation, hoping he wouldn’t listen.

‘That’s all you have to say?’ Irsha answered. ‘Fine, ask me nicely, and maybe I’ll send you back to Jagon in one piece—more or less. Yes, I know that bastard’s planning something, so don’t bother denying it.’

‘I do not serve Jagon, and Roksana is not yours,’ I sneered, my body already twisting as I reached for my sword.

Its blade flashed in the moonlight, sleek, silent, and deadly, surprising my captor.

Blood flowed from where the edge of his dagger had rested, but it was too late.

I’d already twisted away from his grip and, with a powerful kick, sent him flying backwards.

‘You’re signing your own death sentence. Now you’ll die like a dog,’ Irsha said, lunging at me, his dagger flicking out in a distracting feint, ready to strike at the last moment.

I’d barely slipped my shield on before I used it to knock the thrusting knife to the side, my sword stabbing into the gap I’d created.

I hadn’t fought a decent opponent since the war. Five long years of pretending to be civilised, of longing for the thrill of battle, of dancing with death. I couldn’t restrain my manic smile when Irsha parried my attack, turning it into a riposte I barely avoided.

‘Try harder, Blades master. Do your best, I fucking dare you,’ I jeered when he adjusted his stance, attacking again.

Gods, he’s fast .

Despite the longer reach of my sword, I still struggled to hold Irsha back, the small round shield covering my hand now decidedly less round.

Stop overthinking, Rey, you can do this .

Another feint. I sneered, ignoring it, only for the dagger to slice through my sleeve, which made me realise I might not win this time.

Fuck!

Light flooded the courtyard as a door opened, and my opponent’s eyes flicked to the side. I twisted my wrist, ignoring the pain of the blade scoring my flesh and hit him in the face with my sword’s pommel.

‘What the pit’s going on here?’

Sana’s voice drowned out Irsha’s grunt, but it didn’t stop him from kicking my thigh, and I stumbled, my leg suddenly numb.

I shifted my shoulder as I fell, turning my collapse into a roll, before lifting my sword to parry a long sweeping cut directed at my neck.

With a snarl, I pushed back, but something shattered on the floor at our feet.

Yellow smoke billowed out, and breathing became impossible.

Instinctively, we both fell back, but my foot slipped, forcing me to kneel.

Time slowed as Irsha threw a dagger with such grace that I could only watch in awe as it sped towards my heart. Instinctively, my arm came up, but a blurred shadow jumped between us, shielding me.

‘Irsha, no!’ Roksana yelled, arms wrapping around me, her body sheltering me from danger. Fire exploded in my chest, filling me with inhuman strength, and I leapt up with a singular thought. Protect her .

My weapon was long gone, my arms dragging Sana away from the deadly projectile.

‘Are you out of your mind, woman?’ I shouted, pushing her to the ground as the dagger sliced through my mask, splitting it in half and grazing my temple as it passed.

‘Roksana!’ the assassin bellowed, rushing towards us.

I ignored Irsha, focusing on the woman at my feet, still unable to believe she had jumped in to shield me. My fury soon abated when I saw how much she shook.

‘Why did you do that, Viper?’ I asked quietly, helping her up as gently as I could. Her pupils were blown wide, and her breathing unsteady, so I embraced her, hoping to help by holding her close.

Roksana didn’t resist, but Irsha’s eyebrows shot up at the sight. He looked like he was about to say something, then wisely thought better of it. Before I could say another word, Roksana shoved me back and punched me—hard—right in the jaw.

‘You bloody idiot!’ she snapped. ‘What kind of stupidity made you challenge Irsha? You could have died , you moron. You could have died, and it would’ve been my fault.’ Her voice cracked. ‘And now you’re fucking bleeding.’

The punch had hit me like a bucket of ice water, clearing my thoughts just in time to see her drawing back for a second swing. I caught her fist midair, pressing it to my chest as my world narrowed to the fire in her eyes.

‘There, there,’ I teased. ‘You don’t want to kill the man you just risked your life for.’

She only glared harder, but I didn’t care.

Whatever had been between her and the master of the Blades, whatever had happened between her and me in the past, this one gesture had erased it all.

Roksana had chosen my life above Irsha’s, above her own, and I finally didn’t feel like a fool for yearning for her.

It was . . . liberating.

‘Come inside, Irsha. Sana will join us when she’s ready,’ Tova called out to the Blade before walking to him and dragging him inside. ‘But I have to ask— why did you attack the king?’

The assassin groaned, but at Sana’s nod, he turned and followed the dwarf through the open door, leaving the two of us alone.

‘You protected me, little Viper,’ I murmured, tucking an unruly curl behind her ear.

‘Couldn’t let your rotten corpse stink up my yard. The neighbours would get upset,’ she muttered, still fuming, eyes anywhere but on mine.

But I caught the tremor beneath the anger—and my strange sense of triumph only grew.

I lifted her hand and kissed her scraped knuckles.

‘Whatever your excuse, I’m grateful. But if you ever do that again, I swear I’ll lock you in the palace in a padded room and hire a dragon to guard you.’

I traced a thumb over the reddened skin.

‘And next time you want to hit me, get that massive idiot to do it. I’ll stand still, I swear. Just don’t hurt yourself.’ I blew gently across her bruised knuckles.

‘You’re being ridiculous,’ she said, snatching her hand back. But I saw the small, reluctant smile tug at her mouth.

And gods help me—I almost called Irsha back, just to show her I meant every word.