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Hawthorne

The reputation of the Witch Queen is nothing compared to the reality of her practices. She uses her blackened vines to trap you in a gory and oozing web of treachery. Once she has you pinned down and immobilized, she goes in for the killing blow. She’ll slice your throat, then divide your blood in half. One part she drinks to maintain eternal youth, the other she uses to cast spells that advance her infernal cause.

The Witch Queen and Her Treachery

When Laurel leaves the training room, Fionn instantly goes into sparring mode. Throwing me a sword, he advances before I can catch it. Silene finds a table and chairs in the corner, eyes showing she’s lost in thought. I barely notice her before Fionn slams the hilt of his sword into my gut, knocking the breath from my lungs. The whoosh of blades are the only sounds as we clash against one another in the underground recess, Fionn’s blows growing more aggressive the longer we train.

“What has you so on edge?” I ask. He only grunts and swings the blade again. I block his swipe, then drop my sword. “Seriously, Fionn, what’s up?”

“I don’t trust the Queen.” His shoulders and body are tense, eyes storming. “Something feels off—there’s too much secrecy. Why wouldn’t she want her advisors involved when they’re a part of every other aspect of ruling the kingdom? She’s hiding something.” He’s right about the secrecy—it’s strange. And it makes me wonder whether this is a trap intended to get us in a bad situation we can’t get out of.

“I think I know why,” Silene says before striding over to us. She places her hands on her hips. “She has a mole.” Her posture exudes confidence. She’s sure about this.

“What makes you think that?” I ask.

“Here’s what we know. The Queen told us to keep our arrangement a secret from her advisors. She tried to play it off as them being too bureaucratic and slowing things down. But letting rebel prisoners go is a big thing to keep from them, based on what we’ve seen about how she rules.” She makes a good point. While it wouldn’t be unusual for my father to keep important things from his advisors, Laurel’s different. There has to be a reason she doesn’t want them involved. “And then today, she made up an excuse to send Carex away—the Captain of her Royal Guard, no less. Why keep the breakout secret from the Captain of the Royal Guard, unless she was afraid it might somehow get back to the rebels that we’re working together? He’d make the breakout much easier to pull off. Even if her advisors would slow something like this down, you’d think she’d at least want Carex to know what’s going on. She has to have a mole. It’s the only explanation.”

As usual, Silene has guessed all the players and plays before most of us even knew there was a game afoot. Queen Laurel keeping this information from us stings a bit. I understand she doesn’t trust us, but this is critical information to share with potential allies. It’s a good reminder of how far we have to go to truly earn her trust, much less become friendly.

“It has to be Carex,” Fionn grunts while inspecting the weapons rack. “He’s always snooping around. I heard him tell the Queen he ran into us while leaving the training room, but that wasn’t true. I clocked him following us from our rooms.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I ask, incredulous.

Fionn only shrugs. “Wanted to see what he was up to before I revealed we knew he was there.” And just as Silene knows how to play the game, Fionn knows when to watch and learn. My friends are both too intelligent and good at what they do. I’m just a bloke with a crown and a handsome face. I’d be nothing without them.

Silene scrunches her nose and looks away, uncertainty written across her features. “I agree the Captain seems dodgy, but I’m not so sure it’s him. Or if it is him, he’s doing a terrible job hiding his interest in what we’re doing. He’s always around—that seems too obvious.” I nod my agreement, while Fionn only huffs. The Captain has found many excuses to follow us around since we’ve been here, often showing up to sub-committee meetings uninvited with the excuse he just wants to “sit in.” Even the other advisors have seemed put off by his presence.

“What do we do now?” Fionn asks. “This ruse has only gotten more dangerous. It was one thing to risk being exposed accidentally through rebel intel, but now that we know there’s someone informing them? It makes our situation even more precarious. We could walk into a trap at any point. It would be prudent to abandon this plan.” His gruff voice is all commander, a sign of how worried he is, and I don’t blame him. We’re playing a dangerous game. My eyes dart to Silene, wanting her opinion as well.

“We’re trying to trick a lot of people,” Silene admits, amber eyes bright and wide as they bore into me. “Your father, the rebels, even the Queen to some extent—we haven’t exactly been honest about our motivations for wanting to make her an ally. Someone is bound to find us out.”

Nervousness builds in my stomach, but I have no choice but to push it away.

“We’re in too deep now to pull out of anything,” I admit, my voice somber. “If we tell the Queen we don’t want to aid her anymore, I fear what she may do in her suspicion. And it’s not like I can write to my father and tell him we’ve gotten ourselves wrapped up in a scheme we need to get out of. Moving forward is the only option we have.” Four eyes stare back at me, concern storming in their gazes. To lighten the mood, I add, “How dangerous can these rebels be, anyway? Against Fionn and me? We’ll be just fine.” The words are hollow in the cavernous space, but none of us contradict them.

“What do you think the plan will be to get the prisoners out of the castle?” Silene asks. “I don’t like that we won’t know until a few days before.”

“Another reason I don’t trust her,” Fionn grumbles quietly.

“I don’t know, but if I trust anything, it’s that the Queen knows how to make a plan. That’s enough worrying for one day.” I give them a grin. “Let’s train. We need to be ready for anything. You too, Silene.” She tries to hide her excited smile but doesn’t fool Fionn and me. We know better than anyone her desire to be a great warrior, to use her skill with a blade to make up for the average magic most Velmaran nobles have.

We spend the next few hours running through drills with Fionn. The deep tenor of his voice is gentle as he models moves for Silene or corrects my form. Despite the blustering warrior exterior, Fionn is a patient teacher. Without his guidance, I never would have mastered my magic. Silene takes his direction with the dedication of an apprentice, mastering several moves in our short session. My lips can’t help the smile that spreads across my face as I watch my two best friends deep in concentration on their training. We’re in an enemy kingdom a thousand miles from Velmara, deep underground in the home of the most notoriously dangerous fae to ever live. And yet, it feels like home.

Shit, it’s cold. Howling wind whips my hair away from my face, chilling me to my core in the outdoor garden I stumbled upon while exploring the palace. After training, Silene and Fionn had gotten wrapped up in playing Skran, Fionn determined to master the Thayarian game. My body was restless, eager to keep moving despite the grueling exercise Fionn put me through.

I pretended to head to bed early, then snuck back out, cloaking myself with my light magic. As Fionn yelled “Skran!” loudly, I used his loud bellow to slip through our apartment doors and into the palace, unsure of my destination. I’d wandered aimlessly until I stumbled upon a glass door leading to a terrace filled with some of the most stunning trees and flowers I’ve ever seen.

Despite the cold temperatures, a result of the fast-approaching winter, the garden is still effervescent in its beauty. Draping emerald trees create a canopy across the stone paths, while flowers in crimson, magenta, and lavender mound under the trees. Ivy and moss cover the path in areas, giving the space that now familiar classic Thayarian feel of being perfectly overgrown and luscious. Though I’m freezing, I can’t bring myself to turn and head inside, captivated by the harmony of smells that dance through the air and the peaceful quiet under the rising stars. As I round another corner, the same sense of being watched tickles my spine like it did as we traveled to the capital. I keep walking until the path opens up to a stunning view of the mountains behind Arberly, a misty navy portrait in the darkening sky.

“And what exactly are you doing here, Prince Hawthorne, hidden from view?” a cool and hard voice says from the shadows. I jump, searching the dark to my left for the Queen. A laugh sounds from beyond my line of sight before Queen Laurel appears, posture rigid and green eyes assessing. I release the magic cloaking me and bow deeply.

“Apologies, Your Majesty.” I hold my hands up in mock surrender. “I snuck from my rooms so Fionn and Silene wouldn’t protest my exploring and forgot to remove the magic. I assure you I’m up to nothing nefarious. Just some good old fashion hiding from my friends.” My sheepish grin does nothing to break her unwavering expression.

“Why are you exploring my palace?” she asks, an edge to her voice. I take a few steps closer to her, practically involuntarily. It reminds me of my ruse to seduce her, so I take another step. Apparently, I have a death wish.

I shrug my shoulders, trying to lighten the mood. “I needed to move—needed to get out of the apartments. I was getting antsy.” I stretch my arms above my head for emphasis. “Am I not permitted to wander the palace?” My eyes narrow with a challenge I know she’ll rise to.

“I’d prefer you wander visible, where others can see you,” she responds cooly.

“You saw me just fine,” I retort with a cocky smirk. I’ve somehow miraculously gotten her alone, and I intend to put the opportunity to good use. She gives me a long stare, like she’s bored and unfeeling. But here, under the barely visible stars just before twilight, I see it for the mask it is. And this time, I don’t back down, my skin itching with the need to unravel her, just a little. I return the stare, not breaking her gaze. We stare at one another until her lips twitch, and she looks away. Thorne—one, Queen Laurel—too many to count. But at least I’m making progress.

“ I saw you because I’m a super powerful witch , remember?” she says sarcastically, and it’s almost… flirty.

I press my advantage and make an exaggerated bow. “I’ll ensure I keep my impressive magic at bay in my future adventures through the palace, witchling .”

She scoffs half-heartedly. “A little light trick is hardly impressive magic , princeling.” Suddenly, I’m lifted in the air by a strong gale before being set down ten paces away. Queen Laurel pins me with a smirk that’s equal parts seductive and terrifying. From this distance, her curvy figure is on full display in leather leggings and a tight-fitting tunic. With her hair pulled from her face in a simple braid and no makeup, there’s something vulnerable about her tonight. In three strides, I return to stand in front of her, only a foot away, my body towering over her small stature. I swear her breath catches the tiniest bit, though she reveals nothing in her expression. My lips pull at the corners. “How was your training session?” she asks coolly, apparently unaffected by our closeness, though she doesn’t step away.

“Hellish.” I close the distance between us by another step, and now I have her squirming. Her eyes dilate, and her nostrils flare . I’m desperate to fully crack that icy exterior. “Fionn’s brutal in his workouts, and with a month of sitting around, I was out of shape. He’s mandated high-intensity drills twice a week. I told him we should just walk up the aethers-damned stairs over and over again. But I think he hates them as much as the rest of us.” This time I know her lips twitch in a held-back smile. I almost cracked her. So I crowd her body with mine, the need to get a reaction from her overwhelming me. Once again, she doesn’t back away, and we’re so close that I can lean down and whisper in her pointed ear. “I’ve never wanted to be an air channeler more than when I walked up to the Council chambers for the first time. Good news is by the end of this ambassador appointment, my ass is going to look even better than it already does.” I pull back and wink. That comment gets an actual laugh out of her, and I can’t help from smiling at the sound.

“Good night, princeling,” she says with a roll of her eyes.

“Good night, witchling,” I yell as she walks away, her face in profile. A real smile breaks out across her lips, and my heart skips a beat in my chest. Success.