The Dark Witch And Her Knights

35

Gavrial had spent a handful of years with the hunters and had not been suspected of being a master of magic. Why they had given trust where none had ever been shown before troubled me. What was done to prove such worth to a bunch of men, soldiers, ruthless witch hunters, and murders, to be welcomed in their company? "How were you able to avoid getting a hunter's mark?" I did nothing to hide my revolt.

"It took me years to get invited into their unit. They were always a close-knit group, the lot of them were most likely marked as boys."

"Did you know they could see through our spells?"

"No- I always suspected they were hunters but I never knew how brazen they truly were. The witches are growing too few and greater in fear of them."

"Then, we shall kill them. All of them."

This was the exchange we had upon arriving home. He had insisted on training for a few hours but I was already exhausted from the long day. I left him in the sparring chamber and made my way to bed.

***

I looked like a gauzy pearl. Maybe I should have told General Monteros to look for the reflective rainbow. We had our hired carriage meet us at the inn after we dressed and prepared ourselves in one of their vacant rooms. My chaotic gossamer dress had several hidden pockets under my skirts and bodice. Knives, potions, herbs, crystals in my corset. Tiny moonstones on the clips holding my hair up. The only thing I was missing was the kitchen cauldron.

"You look absolutely divine, like a Greek Goddess. Now stop messing with the dress," he said catching me fretting from the corner of his eye.

"I feel weird." Again I ran my hand over my waist trying to shape the odd decorative billows and curves.

"You feel weird because it is not black and you are no longer a shadow blending in. Remember we're trying to stand out." He patted my hand ending our conversation as we approached the Master of Ceremonies prepping to announce us.

The large oak ballroom doors swung open and our titles were delivered.

"Captain Gavrial Hallstead and Lady Sable of the Hallstead house, catcher of the mythical white stag." There were gasps from the ballroom floor below. The rumble of laughter traveling through Gavrial's chest was unmistakable, "Had to pick a creature nearly impossible to snag?"

"I lured it with the blood of my enemies." His laughter grew hardy. I plastered my face with a smile as we descended into the crowd of court eyes and whispers. Ignoring the people staring at me in disbelief, my gaze remained on the throne in the back of the room hosting the most powerful man in the realm.

Truci Malitiae.

The King.

My Father.

I had lived my entire sorrowful existence believing he was dead. A man who was the ruler of my realm. A man who was responsible for abandoning and lying to my mother. A monster who caused the scourge of my people. His people. He must have the blood of witches running through his veins. Or he favored the beds of witches to sire his heirs. I'd bet my gold shields on both.

We followed the heliotrope-colored rug to the seat of power. Ten feet from the stairs we bowed to the King showing our respects. I was glad Carver was nowhere in sight. My face was sculpted into the mask of a small country girl astonished by the lavishment of court. I continued to keep my eyes cast down as we rose to stand waiting for dismissal. Instead, the King did something entirely different.

The herald received an order and requested, "Lady Sable approach please."

I beheld Gavrial for a brief moment, he nodded at me skeptic yet reassuring. I slowly neared the stairs stopping just at the bottom.