Page 52 of Poisoned Kingdom (Secrets of Dagome #1)

Roksana

W e burst into chaos. Four masked men were swarming Irsha and Tova in the kitchen, using sheer numbers to try and overwhelm them. That edge vanished the moment Reynard surged forward, his short sword driving cleanly through the spine of the one mid-swing at Tova.

The momentum shifted instantly. The remaining attackers retreated, knocking over my new dining table in a clumsy attempt at cover. I nearly cried when Irsha kicked it, cracking the polished surface—before Tova’s hammer smashed it to smithereens, forcing me to shield my face from flying debris.

With the renowned master of the Blades and an unmatched war hero pressing the attack, our uninvited guests were hopelessly outmatched. They’d come expecting a helpless woman and a dwarven engineer—not two skilled warriors who made an art form out of killing.

I itched to join the fight, but between Reynard’s blade, Irsha’s twin daggers, and Tova’s axe in play, I was far more likely to be injured by my friends than to contribute.

Instead, I observed the spectacle from the corridor until the quiet sound of breaking glass from behind me caught my attention.

Three men were scrambling through my workshop window. They held no weapons—just hessian sacks and coarse rope.

I grinned. Kidnappers.

Sent by whom? Jagon? He’d kept his distance since my performance at the Mabon feast. I’d caught him staring now and then during my visits to the Brotherhood, gaze distant and unreadable, but this wasn’t his style. Then again, that haunted look in his eyes hadn’t been like him either.

The floor creaked beneath me as I moved deeper into the workshop, casually collecting a few vials from the shelf. The men were too clumsy to be rogue Blades, grunting as they stumbled inside, completely oblivious to the woman with the most poisonous ingredients known to womankind in her hands.

I frowned. The longer I looked at them and thought about it, the more I realised this didn’t fit into the Brotherhood’s style. These men carried ripped sacks and frayed rope and wore shabby outfits.

Mercenaries—or pirates. Someone hired these idiots to kidnap me. Oh well . . .

The sounds of battle on the other side of the now-closed door drowned out the soft click of the lock.

I needed privacy for what came next. Reynard and Tova had never seen this side of me, the ruthless and deadly Nightshade whose reputation was built on the corpses of her enemies.

Part of me wanted to keep things that way, but more importantly, I didn’t want my men hurt by the poisons I held in my hands.

I exhaled slowly, weighing the vials. Even if these fools had taken this job to avoid starvation, they’d invaded my home.

It was time they learned what happens when you disturb a viper’s nest.

‘Welcome to my humble abode,’ I said, waving my hand over a fae lamp, flooding the room with light.

The man in front hissed, shielding his eyes before drawing a cudgel from his belt.

‘Come quietly and you won’t get hurt. Master said—’

‘Let me guess. Master said I’m just a woman.’ I smiled coldly. ‘A meek little lamb who’d bleat and do as she’s told?’

I laughed, gesturing to the room. ‘Take a look around. Do I look trapped to you? Maybe ask yourself—who locked the door?’

‘Take her!’ The simple command rang out, and all three men rushed towards me.

‘Oh, I don’t think so.’

I smashed the first vial on the floor in front of them, smoke billowing out and obscuring their vision. This was my only warning, something non-toxic to create fear and make them run.

Sadly, they ignored my generous offer.

A cudgel sliced through the haze, aimed at my head.

I didn’t move far, just a single step to the side, lifting a second vial to my mouth, dragging out the cork with my teeth and flicking the contents into the face of the weapon’s owner.

His high-pitched scream made me wince, and I ducked another wild swing before my assailant dropped to his knees, falling silent as his face corroded, staining the floor.

The two who remained were stumbling around, cracking shins and hips on the furniture, giving me time to move.

I need something less caustic, I thought as the floorboards blackened, damaged by the remaining poison.

My fingers found one of my delicate glass orbs filled with white powder—the perfect companion to my Alchemist’s Fang.

The blade caught the moonlight as I pressed the weak seam of the orb.

It fell apart in my hands like spun sugar, glass dissolving into glittering sand.

I swept it into the air as they charged, thrusting the shimmering dust into their faces.

The cloud engulfed them, but the man on the right covered his mouth and nose, stumbling to the side as his companion coughed and gagged. Unluckily for him, the deadly strychnos 1 powder was already in his body.

I wasn’t worried about its effect on me.

I’d already built an immunity to it and the other poisons in this room, so the lethal substance was doing little more than tickling my nose.

I sliced the dying man’s throat, giving him the mercy of death before his body started to spasm, and stalked towards my remaining victim.

The realisation of his own mortality settled in the man’s eyes, his throat bobbing while he scrambled backwards, frantically trying to wipe the powder from his skin.

I should have felt something—guilt, regret, maybe? However, if Reynard hadn’t turned up, I would’ve been in bed, caught off guard, and my hotheaded dwarf would have sooner died than let someone take me. Whatever their reasons, they’d made their choices, and so had I.

As the thug’s back hit the wall, he whimpered, his hands held up to ward off evil, but I didn’t stop.

‘Who is your master?’ I demanded.

His eyes widened. I stepped forward—four steps, three—stalking closer as he scrambled, searching for escape. Just as I raised my dagger, the man screamed in defiance, propelling himself forward, arms reaching out to grab me, howling the words that shocked me into stumbling.

‘He knows it was you. If you kill me, he’ll just send more—he’ll never let you live, bitch!’

The man charged at me, uncaring if he lived or died, but as I moved backwards, my heel snagged on a fallen chair. I fell, still holding my weapon, and my head smacked against the floor, dazing me. A moment later, his full weight crashed down on my chest.

All I could see were the man’s eyes as his life faded away, my arms trapped beneath his weight as I struggled for breath.

He was dead.

I laid there for what felt like an eternity, unable to look away from my attacker. Someone had sent him, but who and why? What had I done that deserved such force, such fervour? I scrambled out from beneath the body and slowly stood up, looking around at the carnage in my workshop.

The silence was deafening. It was just me, three corpses, and the moonlight shining on my bloodied hands.

I wiped them on my ruined blouse before opening the rest of the windows, letting the night breeze disperse the toxins while I searched the bodies.

Any doubts I felt about taking their lives faded when I found augurec manacles.

If anything, they’d died too quickly, and I wished I’d gotten some answers.

‘Maybe the men had better luck,’ I muttered, exhaling to ground the buzz still crawling through my limbs.

Why did they come to my home?

Anywhere else, I’d have been limited in which poisons I could have used and would have had to rely on hand-to-hand combat.

But here, in my own domain, I could take on a small army.

Whoever had ordered the attack had chosen the worst place for it .

. . unless they hadn’t given instructions and my attackers thought I’d be unprepared.

‘Did your master send you to test me?’ I wondered, looking at their bloodless faces.

It was a possibility.

I was still turning that thought over when Reynard crashed through the locked door.

Hmm . . . he got more blood on him than I did. The palace maids will be cursing him later.

I looked away to hide my smile, pretending not to notice his heaving chest or the frown on his face as his eyes lingered on the bodies.

‘Are you alright . . .? Viper, did they hurt you?’

From one breath to another, he stood beside me, his gaze sweeping over every inch of my body. His hands followed, brushing lightly across my arms and sides, pausing at the bloodstains on my blouse.

With an amused huff, I jerked my chin towards the last corpse.

‘It’s his, not mine,’ I muttered, trying to suppress my smile and the pleased shiver I felt at Rey’s concern.

But my smile faded as his eyes roamed the room. Confusion settled over his features as he studied the bloody scene.

He shouldn’t be seeing this , came the afterthought, panic tightening my throat the longer he remained quiet.

Irsha strolled in, took one look around, and smirked. His reaction was so casual that I half expected him to offer everyone refreshments.

‘You good, sweetheart? Looks like they underestimated the Deadly Nightshade.’ He winked.

‘I was hoping you’d keep at least one of them alive, but you did always have a bit of a temper.

’ He turned on his heel, calling towards the kitchen.

‘Tova! Can your furnace fit a body, or should I fetch a cart?’

‘You did this . . .?’ Reynard shook his head as he came closer.

His frown deepened, as if he couldn’t believe his own eyes.

It felt like rejection, and I couldn’t even blame him.

It was easy to accept I was a dark sister in theory, but seeing the proof of my abilities sprawled on the floor was a completely different story.

My heart twisted bitterly.

Has he ever really seen me, or did he want the carefully crafted vision from his dreams ? The sombre realisation awakened a spark of defiance within me. Three dead bodies and one dead romance—what an outstanding achievement for one night’s work, I thought, stopping in front of him.

‘Yes, I did this. It’s a part of who I am, and I won’t apologise for it.’

I bit my lip, unsure how to deal with the emotions churning inside me. Still, I knew this had to be done. I needed to suppress these feelings and keep him at arm’s length. Reynard was so silent that I braced myself for his disgust, then decided to speak first.

‘Rey . . . this attraction between us, it doesn’t make sense. We live in a world that would never accept the Deadly Nightshade and the War King surrendering to this temptation. You know the rules better than I do, and I don’t want to bring more strife into your life.’

He huffed, the corner of his lips twisting as if holding back a comment. Then he laughed, low and dry.

‘There you are wrong, little Viper. I make the rules in Dagome, and there’s not a single one I wouldn’t break to hold you again.

If the world has a problem with that . .

.’ His smile was like drawn steel. ‘I pity the world,’ he said sharply, marching away and leaving me with the feeling that not even the stench of death would deter the king.

1. Strychnos — a highly toxic shrub whose bark and berries can cause seizures and imminent death.