by Carey Corp
Despite her sarcasm, I couldn’t stop the words from spewing out. “Fine. I think you’re way out of your depth. You’ve got the crown and the castle but you’ve got no clue how to defeat the witch.”
“I’m doing the best that I can!” she huffed.
“And it nearly got us killed!”
“Stop! Just stop it!” Sofia’s voice, entirely too big for the tiny person it was coming from, penetrated my red haze. I took a breath and saw five sets of eyes staring at Vee and me in shock. I could count on one hand the number of real fights we’d had in our thirteen years of friendship. They were always the result of major stress, and we always felt horrible afterward.
After taking a deep, slow breath, I nodded for Sofia to continue. “You’re both right,” she said. “We do need to go on the offensive, and Kenna’s on to something.”
“What? Asking each of the Destined if they’re the witch? I wasn’t serious.”
Sofia’s ebony curls bobbed up and down. “Sort of. What if we hold a fealty ceremony?”
Like I was supposed to know what that was. “A what?”
Duncan’s chest pressed against my back as his hands wrapped around my shoulders. “It’s where all the citizens pledge their loyalty to the Protector and the crown as we did for Jamie at his coronation.
“Aye,” Sofia continued. “After Lucius Jobe divided the land, the king held a fealty ceremony to unite the people.”
But Vee dismissed the idea with a shake of her head. “Adelaide would never pledge herself to me or the Protector.”
Sofia gestured with her good arm. “That’s the point. She’ll be forced inta revealing herself. Your vision implies we are a kingdom divided. Why not unite us and ferret out the witch at the same time?”
Understanding sparked in Vee’s turquoise eyes. “Whichever Destined refuses to pledge is the witch.”
“That could actually work.” Fiona glanced to her husband. “What say you, Fergus?”
He scratched his baby-smooth chin. “We’d have to be prepared. Have triple guards at every exit.”
With a hasty glance over her shoulder at the crackling fire, Vee asked, “How soon do you think we can do this?”
Jamie looked to Duncan, seeking his silent agreement. “Two days. All we need do is issue a decree. We can have pages go to every door in the kingdom.”
“After the fealty ceremony, it’s customary to hold a feast,” Fergus said, rubbing his large hand over his rumbling stomach. How he could think about food after nearly being incinerated was beyond me.
Fiona chuckled. “Mags won’t be happy about the short notice, but she’ll accommodate the request.”
The anticipation of doing something was making us all a bit giddy after the latest brush with death. Gleefully, Vee looked from one face to another. “Two days, then. Let’s take out Addie before she can strike again.”
CHAPTER 27
Veronica
As the Wise Men filed out of my temporary office within Jamie’s suite, I moved over to the windows and began a few deep breathing exercises. Already meetinged-out, I had all of three minutes to pull myself together before my next one began. I took several cleansing breaths and positioned my arms and legs in a warrior pose.
My morning had begun at dawn with Giancarlo, his sister Gabriela, and Fergus. I’d given them the job of going out among the people before the official fealty announcement arrived. Charismatic and liked by everyone, the three of them were perfect good-will ambassadors to the crown, talking up the idea of uniting the kingdom and healing the fissures of doubt caused by Sean MacNally and his gang of dissenters.
Slow exhale.
Three grueling hours with the Wise Men had followed. I’d steered my advisors into believing the fealty ceremony had been their brilliant idea, and then we’d hammered out all the nuances of the royal decree. The wording of the announcement was a delicate matter, but my cabinet didn’t know about the secret weapons I’d already dispatched just after sunrise.
I focused on elongating my muscles, filled my lungs again, and brought my hands together, arching into a half moon. The laces of my bodice strained against the movement, and I longed to change out of my full skirts into sweats and a T-shirt, but a visual representation of my power had never been more important.
Straightening, I pushed out a breath, readjusted my crown, and rolled my shoulders as a knock sounded on the door. “Come in!” I called, walking back to the seating area in front of the fire. The door opened, and a lanky bundle of fur raced into the room. “Blaz!”
He jumped up, his oversized paws now reaching above my waist. Never having had a pet before, I was astounded at how fast he grew. “I missed you, buddy.” I bent and let him lick my cheek.
Eòran moved into the room and stoked the fire. “The laird asked me to send him up to ye once his training was finished for the day.”
Jamie knew I would need a bit of comfort. I quirked a grin as I sat and nuzzled my puppy’s silky ears. It had been Jamie’s idea that I use his suite as my new office. Access to my own rooms was being limited to a chosen few, and his tower was just as easily defensible. But meeting in this room had other advantages — like his scent permeating the air, and the strength I gained from all the carefully chosen objects around me, including the Yankee’s baseball cap that sat on the shelf within my line of sight.
I thanked Eòran as he left the room, and another guard announced the arrival of the next person on my agenda. My personal assistant, Emily, bustled into the room, a leather-bound notebook and quill in her hand.
The girl dipped into an awkward curtsy. “Your Majesty.”
“Emily.” I indicated the seat across from me. “Please sit down.”
Before the girl’s bottom had even touched the cushion, she began to talk. “Your Majesty, as you requested, I’ve ensured the sick and elderly have extra provisions, including firewood.” She sucked in a breath, made a check on her paper, and continued on. “For the weekly feast we’ll be serving duck à l’orange, roasted parsnips, creamed corn, fresh bread and butter, of course, and a dessert of apple and pecan tarts with fresh cream. Your dress will be — ”
“Emily.” I leaned forward and touched her hand, and she glanced up at me with startled blue eyes. “That all sounds perfect, but I first need to ask how you’re doing?”
She blinked, and I noticed a faint purple bruise along her left cheekbone where Adam had hit her. Something like lava bubbled up within me, and I had to work to unclench my jaw and soften my tone. “After what happened with Adam, and now the accident with Gregory . . . are you okay?”
“Ye . . . yes, ma’am.” She nodded, her light-brown bangs falling to cover her forehead as she focused on the notes in front of her. “I’m sorry to say that I never got to know Gregory very well. It’s kind of like the grief you feel when you see a tragedy on TV — it’s terribly sad, but doesn’t affect your everyday life, so you move on.” Her head whipped up. “That probably sounded horribly insensitive! I’m sorry — ”
“It’s fine. I understand.” And I did. Death was a part of life, and she didn’t know that Gregory had likely been murdered by a force of evil that sought to destroy our kingdom and everyone in it. I shivered hard and pulled my hand from hers. Folding my fingers in my lap, I met her startled gaze. “I also wanted to thank you for keeping Adam’s betrayal a secret. We’d hoped we had contained the issue with his imprisonment, but . . .” I was unsure how much to say. But, as had become more and more common lately, she finished my thought.
“But you’re concerned he’s not the only one.”
I searched her face before answering, her bow-like mouth set in plump, slightly blotchy cheeks, her solemn gaze meeting mine. Did she know something she wasn’t sharing? “We’re considering several possibilities. Including factions of Sean MacNally’s gang causing dissention within the kingdom. Which leads me to our next topic.”
I paused and took a sip of lukewarm tea before continuing. “This week’s feast will follow a special ceremony. A royal decree
is being issued throughout the kingdom as we speak.” Suddenly very thirsty, I downed the rest of my tea. Emily waited with quill poised above parchment. “Announcing a fealty ceremony.”
My assistant began to scribble and then paused and looked up, her head cocking to one side. “Didn’t everyone already give you fealty during your coronation?”
“Actually, no. If you remember, there was a group fealty declaration, but not an individual one. The ceremony was truncated, partly due to the limbus and partly because we planned to have a kingdom-wide fealty once Jamie and I wed.”
I poured more tea for myself, the pot trembling in my shaky fingers. Would we ever be married now? I wanted to wake up every morning and see his face, have him rule by my side as our Calling intended. All my silly reservations had disappeared during our time in the modern world. Perhaps the witch had done me a favor of sorts. I understood now that there were no guarantees of tomorrow. And I wanted to spend every moment I could with Jamie. But saving our kingdom came before my romantic dreams.
“Emily, would you like some tea?” I steadied the pot with my other hand.
“No . . . thank you, Majesty.” Her gaze flicked from the teapot to my face. “So you wish to unite the kingdom? That is . . . verra wise.” Something rich and pure shone from her eyes; respect, and maybe even love. And I almost told her the real reason for the fealty ceremony, but swallowed the words and commented, “You’re picking up the accent here.”
“Oh?” Her cheeks stained pink. “I . . . I . . . di . . . didn’t realize.”
“I find myself doing the same thing at times.” Sensing her embarrassment, I changed the subject. “Any thoughts on what I should wear to the ceremony?”
Emily lifted her quill and focused on her notepad. “I believe we can make a few alterations to your gown for the weekly feast . . .” Her hand sped across the paper in arching strokes. “To make it more majestic, maybe even a bit somber.”
After another moment, she flipped the paper around to show me a drawing of a sweeping ball gown, fit for . . . well, for a queen. “What do you think about burgundy with a black overlay and onyx crystal-beaded trim?”
I met her gaze, and despite all the heaviness in my world, grinned like a girl who’d just found the perfect prom dress. “It’s gorgeous.”
A knock sounded just before Eòran poked his head into the room. “Yer Highness, yer next appointment has arrived.”
Emily sprung to her feet and rushed to the door, calling over her shoulder, “So much time and so little to do.”
Before I could ask her if she’d quoted Willy Wonka on purpose, Oliver marched through the door.
“Thanks, mate.” He nodded at Eòran, who tailed him into the room. “I can take it from here.”
Blaz, who’d been sniffing around the hearth, trotted to my side and stood at attention, tail down, ears up. Maybe some of Jamie’s guard-dog training had sunk in after all.
Oliver dipped his head in an abbreviated bow and then flopped into the chair across from me without being invited. Eòran’s face went dark, and he took a huge step forward as if to yank the Australian out of his seat and make him show proper respect. But I caught his gaze and stopped him with a shake of my head. My guard retreated, but stood by the open door, his arms crossed in front of his chest.
“Oliver, would you like some tea?”
“Why are you cutting me out?”
Startled by his hostile tone, I set the teapot down with a clang.
“Where’s Adam?” Oliver leaned forward, his tanned fingers gripping the arms of the chair. “And don’t tell me he’s still ill, because I checked with the bloke at the clinic, and he isn’t there.”
A low growl sounded from Blaz’s throat and I put a hand on his bristly head to calm him. I eyed a stormy-faced Eòran, hoping he would understand I wished to handle this myself.
Oliver went on, “Last time I saw him, he was as fit as a Mallee bull!”
“Adam tried to kill me.” I dropped the bomb and watched Oliver’s face for signs that what I’d said wasn’t a surprise. He froze, his expression a comical mask of outrage and shock, and then he melted back into his chair like a popped balloon. No darting eyes, fidgeting hands, enlarged pupils, or flaring nostrils. He was either an Oscar-worthy actor, or he had no clue that his friend had tried to harm me.
Then again, I’d been fooled by Addie’s disguises before.
“To be honest, we’ve cut you out”— I made an air quote with my right hand —“because we aren’t sure where your loyalties lie.”
He released the bridge of his nose and slanted a glance in my direction. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like, mate.” Jamie strode into the room, and stopped by my side. He and Duncan had spent the morning inventorying weapons and meeting with the metal forgers. As he bent to kiss my cheek, I noticed that the burn on his jaw had scabbed over neatly. “Sorry I’m late, love. How’s the arm?”
I touched my bicep where a flaming piece of wood had caught my dress on fire the night before. “Still sore, but Fiona’s healing ointment has worked wonders.”
Oliver sat upright, his eyes alert. “What happened?”
“Just an accident.” I waved it off, unwilling to share that we’d been in Fairshaw Cottage just before it exploded into a million match-like pieces. Thank the Protector that stampede had lured us outside. I’d lain awake half the night thinking through every angle of what had happened, and I woke up knowing that cattle charge had not happened by chance. I was coming around to Jamie’s belief that there were no coincidences — at least, not in Doon. I’d been saved too many times to believe otherwise.
“I finished the generator you asked me to build.” Oliver’s statement pulled me out of my musings. He sat ridged in his chair, a flush appearing on the slope of his cheekbones. “I used scrap bits of metal to construct a wind turbine and then set it up on the southeast battlements. With the gust we’re having, it should be charged in a few hours.” He scrubbed a hand over his dark hair and fixed steady eyes on Jamie and then myself. “I’ve done everything you asked me to do without fail and without question. My loyalty lies with Doon.”
“What drew ye here, Oliver?” Jamie asked, still standing beside my chair. “How were ye Called to us?”
The Australian shifted in his seat and turned to stare into the fire, his throat contracting as he swallowed. A Calling, no matter the purpose, was intensely personal. Like myself, most believed themselves to be going a little insane before accepting that Doon could be real. Oliver’s hesitation to speak about what Called him here convinced me of his innocence more than anything else.
Without turning back to us, he began to speak. “I had a good life in Melbourne, by most standards. I’d patented several inventions and then sold them to the highest bidder. International corporations had begun seeking me out to create their latest technology. I had more money than I’d ever dreamed of, but . . .” His brow furrowed. “But it felt empty. I had mates and women . . . lots of them.” He shrugged and glanced at me with a small smile. “But no end goal. Until the dreams started. It was as if I’d been to paradise while I slept and brutally yanked back to real life when I woke. It wasn’t just that Doon was beautiful. The feeling of belonging and purpose . . . it was like being Called home even though I’d lived in Melbourne all my life.” He met my gaze, his eyes liquefying, and I knew he told the truth.
“Thank you, Oliver. I think you’ve answered our question. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but we believe Adam was sent here by the Witch of Doon.”
Jamie squeezed my shoulder in warning.
“You mean Adam didn’t have a Calling to come to Doon?” Oliver questioned.
“We are no’ sure of that,” Jamie answered. “But do ye remember him actin’ suspicious? Did he say or do anythin’ that could give us insight into his motivations?”
Oliver thought for a moment and then shook his head. “No, I’m sorry.”
I glanced up at Jamie
and he nodded.
“That will be all for now, Oliver. Thank you.” I stood and shook his hand.
Next, Jamie took his hand and held it. By the pained look on Oliver’s face, it was not a gentle hold. “Donna say a word of this to anyone. If ye want our trust, ye’ll ha’ to prove ye’re worthy of it.”
Oliver nodded. “You can count on me, mate.”
Jamie released his hand. “Good.”
After the inventor left and we were alone, Jamie said, “I dinna believe him.”
“I do.” I moved to the sofa where a pile of paperwork waited for my attention. “His Calling story rings true to me.”
“Ye’re too trusting.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, feet spread wide.
Too tired to argue, I picked up the petition on the top of the pile. “You’re probably right.”
Jamie’s eyebrows arched into his hair. “Tha’s it?”
“That’s it.” I shrugged and turned back to my paperwork.
“I need to change out of these dusty clothes and then I’ll return to help ye with those petitions.”
He strode into the bedroom and my thoughts kept circling back to the two conversations I’d just had. I knew I was missing something, but my tired brain couldn’t seem to latch onto it.
I’d read the first paragraph of the document in my hand three times and was nearing my fourth when the door swung open and my BFF burst into the room dressed in head to toe black. “Come on, Highney. Field trip time.”
I slumped back into the cushions. “I wish. But I’ve got a ton of paperwork. Maybe after dinner?”
“This is important.” A heavy sack landed with a thump beside me. “And requires a costume change.”
Untying the drawstring bag, I found a pair of thick leggings, a wool tunic, a cloak, and fur-lined boots — all in black. “Why do I feel like we’re about to play out a scene from Pretty Little Liars?”
“Ha, ha.” She stopped in front of me, gripping her hips. “Gather your royal fiancé and let’s be off.”
I sighed in resignation. I wasn’t getting anything done here anyway. “Fine. Where are we going?”
