When powerful witch Marithyda Skyelorn becomes a participant of the Royal Exposition, the last thing she expects is to fall in love with the Prince--or to be the cause of his death.
*****
Every year...
"I know you. You're not a killer," was all Paolin could say. "And you aren't hideous." He felt a blush rise in his face and Marithyda scoffed, plopping down by the fire.
"You knew me," she corrected. "And you were there that day. You saw what happened. How can you defend me?"
"Don't be an idiot. There must've been a flaw in your magic, or something."
"I made no mistakes when it came to magic," she retorted, drawing her bearskin cloak further over her torso to cover the scar. To his dismay, he watched her turn her head as a tear slipped onto her nose. Her next words were spoken so softly that they might have been twigs falling on the fire. "I loved him, Paolin. And he died because of me." His next breath hitched in his throat and he felt his throat compress. Marithyda never opened up to him like this before, even when they were fellow performers in the Exposition.
"I loved him, too," Paolin said. And he did, in the way that a man loved his brother. Markus showed him mercy when no one else would, convincing the King to take Paolin on as the gamewarden when he could have just as easily been discarded like the rest of the performers.
"No. Not like that," Marithyda said heavily. For a while, only the crackling of the fire could be heard as the two old friends tried to think of something to say. Eventually, Marithyda broke the silence. "Damn, I'm starving." She grabbed one of the cooked pieces of meat from over the fire and began to tear into it with her teeth. It was quite a brutal sight, and Paolin couldn't help but grin.
"What are you smiling at?" Marithyda grunted, swiping her face with the back of a hand. He just shrugged. After she finished eating, she belched and carefully started to roll the large stone back over the cave entrance. It looked like a feat that someone her size should never be able to accomplish. "Storm clouds are rolling in. It's a good idea for you to stay the night. But I want you gone by tomorrow."
"Marithyda?" Paolin said.
"What? I wasn't exactly planning on gaining a roommate, and as you can imagine I have things--"
"Marithyda?"
"What?" She spat.
"I want you to come back with me. To the castle. To Pathos." Paolin finally forced out the words that had been plaguing him all evening. The way Marithyda gazed back at him made him wonder if she might decide to use magic on him after all. He flashed his most charming smile. The witch was not amused.
"Excuse me?"
"The King wants to bring back the royal Exposition, and he charged me with leading it and finding performers. Touched performers."
"No. No, no, no, no." Marithyda clutched her head in both hands, eyes wide. She looked insane, just as the "Wanted" posters in Pathos village portrayed her. "Are you kidding me right now?"
"Hear me out, Mar," Paolin soothed, desperate.
"Don't call me that," Marithyda snapped, smacking his chest. He flinched. "I thought you were better than this, Paolin! Don't you remember anything from the Exposition? The King gives you one measly grounds-keeping position and you think you can turn on your own kind? On me?"
"Turn on you?" Paolin said heatedly. This conversation was not going how he thought it would. "I want the King dead as much as you do. Don't you ever forget that. Believe it or not, I cared about Markus too. I owe him my life."
"What does the Exposition have to do with me killing the King?" Marithyda demanded, bristling.
"This year, the rules are different. The performers are to compete against each other in special tasks, and the final victor will be appointed as the King's royal harlequin." She stared at him blankly.
"And?" He rolled his eyes.
"And, you're the most powerful witch on the continent. You could win that competition with your eyes closed, no problem. Imagine how many chances you'll have to assassinate King Harlan once you're working at his side." Her gaze became faraway, and she bit her lip. She was considering it. It was a start.
"That may sound like sunrises and butterflies, but how the hell is the most wanted person in all of Karvoth supposed to waltz into a carnival and perform for royals without immediately getting an arrow in her throat?" Despite himself, Paolin grinned mischievously and crossed his legs on a stout rock.
"Miss Skyelorn, I reckon it's about time to dust off your magic."
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