Tempting the King (Witchling Academy Book 2)

by D. D. Chance

  “The dwarf who rules this rabble would see you now,” he shouted. “See you and the woman he calls the witch from beyond the veil. Apparently, your arrival has been foretold in a shower of gems and gold, Witch Hogan, and the dwarf lord is eager to get on with it.”

  “What?” I flicked a glance at Belle. She blinked, then lifted her hands slightly, breathing out a long breath as she studied me. I could feel the prick of magic, the unnerving rush, and she bit her lip to attempt to hide her smile. I was so happy to see her expression lighten, I wobbled on my feet. Fortunately, Belle didn’t notice.

  “My precognition is improving with the Fae. I see food in your near future,” she said wryly. “Food and celebration. I don’t see any danger here.”

  “But what will they tell me?” I demanded.

  Belle shook her head. “That’s more information than I’m receiving yet. I can foretell an ambush or the simple emotions of joy, fear, or fury, but there’s none of that here. You seem deeply content.” For the first time, her mouth quirked into a smile. “Way too content for your own good.”

  Something dark and needful twisted inside me. I hadn’t felt content since I’d first laid eyes on Belle, and I damned well knew why. She might not know the gift she had given me with her sight, but I did. We would be staying with the dwarves tonight—all night—and Belle would be with me in my bed. I’d be making sure of it.

  17

  Belle

  Considering the sum total of my knowledge of dwarves, beyond the ones who routinely drank themselves under my tables at the White Crane, was restricted to Gimli and his kin, I didn’t know what to expect as Aiden, I, and all his warriors were led into the mountain. Instead, I chewed over the images that I saw ahead for Aiden. Laughter, food, and celebration, not exactly the typical ending of a battle with your enemies. What did it say about these people that they needed to start a fight to get any sort of attention from their leader? Then again, what leadership did King Aiden have over the dwarves?

  “You think very loudly,” Aiden murmured to me. “Or I become more attuned to you with each passing day.”

  “Hmmm,” I returned, frowning. Was this another result of my invisible crown and shackles? If so, I wasn’t a fan. “Well, quit it.”

  He chuckled softly. “I don’t think so. Your questions are sound. The dwarves are an ancient race and a traditional one, but they keep to themselves, and I, for one, have received no instruction on their past interaction with my father or grandfather. Their expectations for the relationship between the Fae king and his witch may hearken back to traditions that are unfamiliar to either of us.”

  “Well, that probably wouldn’t be difficult, since all this is unfamiliar to both of us.” A new thought struck me. “Is that part of why you’re here? Not so much to discover information about our relationship, but to learn the dwarves’ take on whatever happened between my great-grandmother and King Orin?”

  He nodded without fanfare. “Had I realized the dangers of only focusing on the battle in front of me earlier, I might have been able to avoid some of the war we are now facing. But likely only some. My father was as myopic as his before him, and a century of turning inward has not served us well. The histories have all been rewritten in our favor and the old records destroyed.”

  He waved his hand at the corridors surrounding us, lit by flickering torchlight. The sconces were old, stained with smoke, but the tapers looked like they’d been cut that morning. They probably had been. I suspected dwarves didn’t need this much light to navigate their own hallways.

  Aiden apparently agreed. “For a famously reclusive group, you can hear the sounds of their revelry throughout these passages, and they had all the materials at the ready to light our way. That doesn’t square with what we know about dwarves. So what we think we know, we have to assume is probably wrong, or at least incomplete.”

  I blew out a long breath. “When was the last time you spoke with this group? During the time of my great-grandmother? Earlier?”

  “I have no idea,” Aiden said. “The Fae are long-lived, but I’ve known only estrangement from these dwarves—there doubtless was a reason for it, but not one that’s ever been shared. Cyril will begin the process of finding those who may know the truth. But after a hundred years and more of persecution, finding any record of heretical histories will likely take some time.”

  I sighed. “And time is something you don’t have.”

  Further conversation was cut off as we entered some sort of great hall, and almost unconsciously, I drew closer to Aiden. From the shouting and carousing, I assumed people were eating, though now that I thought about it, that wouldn’t have made much sense. These people had been in a battle. Even if they healed as fast as the Fae, that was still a lot of poking each other with sharp sticks. As I suspected, nobody was eating or drinking, not yet. Instead, the hall was filled with heavy-shouldered warriors, shouting at the top of their lungs to their king or whoever was standing with his arms outstretched on the dais.

  Much like the dwarves who’d made their way to the White Crane, my beautiful faraway tavern that was now probably no more than a smoking heap, and the ones who’d ended up in the Riven District, these worthies were bearded and strong, but they were bigger than my patrons, grittier. Like the Old World cousins of the brawny but quiet males who I’d served steins of beer.

  They wore metal helmets, their attire variations of long tunics and trousers belted tight over their stout bellies. As the Fae entered, taller than the rabble by head and shoulders, the dwarves turned, and a new shout went up. I’d never seen people who’d just gotten their asses kicked in a battle be more cheerful about it.

  At the head of the room stood a dwarf on a short dais, a massive gray horned helmet on his thick head. Beneath it, his dark eyes were sunken into a face that was as weathered as an old brick, but it didn’t make him look any weaker. Far from it. The dwarf leader—what I assumed was the leader—was broad, squat, and attired in clothes that looked as thick and tough as he did, a proudly beat-up fire hydrant with gray-streaked brown, braided hair, and arms that looked like he benched rhinos in his free time.

  “All hail the king of the Fae!” he announced in a booming baritone, and the return cry was deafening.

  We continued walking down the wide central aisle, the dwarven warriors giving us plenty of space, but of course, the dwarf leader picked me out immediately. While Aiden fought with female warriors as well as males, I didn’t look anything like them, so I was easy to spot. To my surprise, his bushy brows rose, his face registering recognition.

  “So it’s true! It’s finally true. The Fae king has caught himself a Hogan witch again. You’ve more guts than I do, King Aiden, I’ll tell you that straight up. Reagan Hogan scared the lot of us.”

  I realized dimly that I was clutching Aiden’s arm, more to keep myself upright than for any show of solidarity. “You knew my great-grandmother?” I asked, though of course no one could hear me in the roar of shouting men.

  The leader’s face tightened into an expression of annoyance.

  “Silence!” he commanded. The room instantly fell silent. “Let the witch speak.”

  He grinned at me. “Though I beg of you, don’t ask us for safe transport again, not in front of your heart mate. Reagan Hogan had a fire in her belly and was in genuine flight from a cold-eyed bastard, but that’s not the case here, eh? No one has the taste to fight a Fae in love. They can be absolute bastards when they want to be.”

  I could feel the flush roll through me, but I lifted my chin. What the dwarves didn’t know about my relationship with the High King of the Fae wouldn’t hurt me right now. Aiden wanted me, sure but—well, I couldn’t think about the rest. Not here. “You knew my great-grandmother?” I asked again.

  The dwarf lord lifted his hands as if to ward off my words. “Great-grandmother!” he protested, his dark eyes twinkling with laughter. “Now you’re making me feel old.”

  Another howl of approval greeted this assertion,
and the big, bluff dwarf lord smiled. “I’m Corran, blessed enough to rule this rabble. You shouldn’t know my name. Reagan Hogan swore to me that this tale of her escape would never adorn the wall of her holding, never be told to the rapt ears of the young. She was deeply afraid and all the fiercer for it. But come. I will tell you this story over food and drink, as all great stories should be told.”

  At the promise of additional partying, the crowd of warriors cheered, both dwarf and Fae alike. Corran turned and gestured us beyond the dais, where I now saw that additional doors stood, flanked by a brace of bulky guards.

  Beyond, light suddenly flared, and music began to play. It was a party in Dwarflandia, and I could do nothing but be swept along for the ride.

  Aiden never let go of me, for which I was grateful, as the dwarves pushed and shoved around us, each of them leaping for the doors as if there might not be any food left by the time they got there. Given their exuberance, they might have been right. But as we entered the large chamber, it still seemed difficult to imagine as tables virtually overflowed with meat, bread, and roasted vegetables.

  “You look surprised at our bounty, King Aiden,” Corran declared, and I blinked up to see Aiden’s admittedly surprised expression.

  “This land seems locked in eternal winter,” Aiden said. “But I see, as with all things, what I have perceived is not necessarily true.”

  “That’s for certain,” the dwarf lord agreed. “Don’t take it too personally, though. Both your friends and your enemies conspire to make it so. Not because of you. I have no quarrel with you. But your line has not always been good to all those under its command. We dwarves fight when we must, but we’d rather dig, sing, and make beautiful things.”

  Corran gestured, and several warriors moved forward, taking firebrands from sconces and dipping them into small platters set into each wall, each about four feet high. The platters instantly caught fire, and flame raced up long fissures in the rock and across the ceiling, illuminating the entire room in a matter of moments. I looked up and gasped. A full constellation of stars glinted above me, wrought in finest silver and purest gold. Now lit by flame, they spun on long, twined silver lines, and in the chamber’s high corners were other creations too—fire-breathing dragons, spread-winged phoenixes, boats with full sails so finely wrought, they seemed to shimmer as the vessels rotated slowly. Any smoke from the fuel disappeared up into the rock, swept away from the menagerie.

  “You’ve had some time on your hands,” Aiden remarked drolly, and Corran guffawed.

  “You have the right of that.” He grinned. “But let us eat. Fighting puts a powerful hunger on the body.”

  He led us to a table, tucking Aiden and me close together on a bench. I was excruciatingly aware of the press of Aiden’s large thigh against mine, the heat of his body, the weight of his arm as more warriors, Fae and dwarf alike, jostled us closer together. I tried to focus on the food or even on the questions I should be asking Corran, but all I could think of was Aiden.

  As if he knew somehow, he dipped his head to mine, his mouth at my ear. “Soon,” he promised.

  Given the heat that swamped me, I didn’t exactly need to ask what he meant. I glanced away, trying to see into my future with him, but in this, my precognition remained stubbornly blank. But what was there to be worried about? I mean, you know, other than the fact that even though Aiden and I had already had sex once…that was before I’d taken on the mantle of the crown and shackles, before my magic had flared to life. Would that make a difference between us, especially when we, ah…

  Beside me, Aiden chuckled with a rich hum of satisfaction. I flushed to my toes, my heart hammering out of control.

  I was doomed.

  18

  Aiden

  I needed to focus, but Belle, practically plastered against my side, was making that almost impossible. Every bite of food she took fascinated me, every sigh of satisfaction or hum of confusion as she sampled the dwarves’ hearty fare captured my attention. I also didn’t miss her deep pull on the stout beer they passed her way, and though I knew she’d run a tavern, I also knew she’d never had beer brewed by dwarves before.

  It took a little time, but eventually the flush that scored her cheeks had less to do with her own acute awareness of me than with the warm rush the alcohol afforded her. I saw her eyeing the stein with more skepticism.

  “I wondered when you would realize that stuff was stronger than you expected,” I offered.

  “And I think you know how patronizing that sounds,” she shot right back, the edge to her tone clear. “I’m a bartender. Don’t forget it.”

  I shrugged and merely lifted my glass again.

  “To tending bar, then,” I agreed, and she lifted her stein and toasted me right back, then took a healthy drink.

  The sharp-eyed Corran, who’d been watching this, nodded with obvious satisfaction and took his own deep drink before leaning our way. He had removed his helm and sword, and now looked like he’d been cut straight out of the mountain, his weathered skin and gray-streaked hair at home in his mighty cavern. “Let me tell you the story that’s never been told outside these walls. The story, truth to tell, your great-grandmother hoped I would never share with one of her children. Of course, time has a way of bringing people back together and healing the wounds of the past, eh? That it does.”

  Belle leaned forward eagerly, her breast pressing against my left arm. I gritted my teeth to focus on Corran’s next words.

  “In those times, the Fae kingdom was at peace. The army was deployed more to ensure the delivery of tithes than to engage in real battle. We had no problem paying our tribute to the Fae king, but our Fae friends of the mountains chafed. They were already working on ways to limit the access of the ocean Fae to their mighty fortresses. They even asked us for aid in this pursuit, to pull up metals from deep within the stony reaches of the realm that would give them protection even from their own. At length they succeeded in their quest, and with the storm crystals, fierce weather began to turn our way. In truth it doesn’t snow here all that much. We have seasons like any other place, to be sure. But they are not as harsh as we would lead you to believe. However, the storms wrought by the mountain Fae served the purpose of diminishing the king’s attention. His travels to our domain became less frequent, from once every few months to once a year. And always at his side, he had the Hogan witch.”

  “Was she unhappy?” Belle asked in an earnest rush. “Was King Orin mean to her?”

  Whether for diplomatic reasons or simply to be kind, Corran shrugged. “She was never harmed, not physically. She held her chin up, her shoulders square. He let her speak. She assessed the magic of our tools and trinkets with exceptional skill. We had the finest hoard, of course, but I think she knew that too, and didn’t give us away. She may have been bound to serve the king, but she was not cowed by him. The few times I was present during his subsequent visits to the mountain Fae, she was quieter, though, more subdued. More feminine, if you want to know the truth of it, which made no sense to me until I realized she was courting the favor of the Fae who ruled Sakorn Castle.”

  I bristled out of pure instinct, and Corran didn’t miss it.

  “You don’t know the way of it, King Aiden. I’ve seen many High Kings with their witches. Some they bind, some they bed, some they treat as wives, some as mistresses, some as slaves. King Orin was in the latter camp. Reagan Hogan was nothing but a tool to him, a means to an end, and worse, there was rumor that he would never let her go. Not for any great love of her, but simply out of spite. That he intended for her to die in the Fae realm and not return to the promise of ending her days as a human.”

  Beside me, Belle frowned, but she didn’t say anything. I keenly felt her dismay at not knowing more about the Hogan contract, though I’d freed her from it. She didn’t want to betray her ignorance, not even by asking the questions she so desperately wanted the answers to. Knowledge was power, but power over who?

  I, of course, had no suc
h qualms. Because I suspected I knew the truth about the contract, even if I didn’t know the specific rules of its making or breaking. I suspected it never had truly held a Hogan witch bound to the ocean Fae in the first place. That we had stolen the first witch from the mountain Fae and taken her for our own. I needed to rectify that problem, and I would…and set an entirely new contract in its place. But for tonight, I could help Belle get the answers she sought. Because even if the contract had been put in place by the ocean Fae, my idiot grandfather hadn’t deserved the witch it had brought to him.

  “If he intended such a thing, it would break the terms of the contract,” I said, and was rewarded with Corran’s nod.

  “It would and it did, which is why Reagan Hogan stayed quiet. You Fae, you’re sticklers for keeping to the word of your law. Twisting it, sure, as much as you can, but not outright betraying a decree you yourself put in place. And the mountain Fae lord had grown tired of the tyranny of the ocean Fae, tired of your tithes and torment.”

  I shook my head. “We take no tithes,” I assured him, but he grinned.

  “You don’t now, do you? You don’t bother with the mountain Fae at all. You ever wonder why that was the case? First your grandfather, then your father, then yourself, simply stopped coming around. Or is it that the mountain Fae escaped their social obligations?”

  I leaned back, considering the dwarf lord. He wasn’t wrong. Of all the battles I had been sent to, the fronts had been all on the edges of our domain, not the interior. The crises of the forest and valley Fae had called us, but never those of our mountain kin.