The Luna's Bodyguard [a mature werewolf romance]

Ch 36: Mini Quiches With a Side of Treason

OPEHLIA

A sea breeze ruffled the long, unplaited strands of my hair as I stared into the ranks of witches, fluffing and feathering the ends until I looked as wild as I felt. Between that and the rich sapphire dress I wore, I looked more like a spell-caster than those we'd assembled outside the hedge maze.

It was surprisingly easy to gather them all here, under the guise of selecting staff for the afternoon's festivities. All I had to do was ring a bell in Ignatius's bedroom at first light and issue a command to the witch who answered the call. I thought she might argue my inconvenient request, but one glance over my shoulder at the shirtless prince sprawled on the bed was enough to make her nod demurely and hurry away to do my bidding.

One day I'll command respect on my own authority, I thought now, as I looked each and every member of staff in the eyes. They were a restless bunch, and made many a furtive glance towards Addy on Nate's right, who was dressed in another tight black ensemble that matched her striking eyeliner. She doubled down on the gothic look here, as if deliberately trying to separate herself from the rest of the witches, or to perhaps own the otherness she already felt. Either way, the result was still glamorous — and intimidating.

I almost felt bad for the witches she speared with her cruel, glittering gaze — almost. I'd grown up sympathising with magic users because of my own murky heritage, having suffered but a taste of lycan prejudice, but as a halfling Addy had taken the full brunt of it. From lycans and witches alike.

I'd heard their whispers in the halls, of the wicked Witted One. The hedge witch who did not walk The Path, which they spoke of in hushed and reverent tones. I was suddenly glad for Fallon's interjection, that day I almost cavalierly agreed to give away my firstborn child.

My discomfort must have travelled the bond, for there was a creak of leather to my left, as Fallon tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword. His face was stern as he searched the ranks of the magic users before me for the person I already knew wasn't there. A motley assortment of bottled-glass eyes blinked back at us, ranging from algae green to black mud, none of them a match for my sister's warm chocolate brown.

"Do any catch your eye?" my betrothed whispered in my ear. Nate's warm breath made my skin prickle with anticipation, but I shoved the lust down. Despite our heated encounter in the study, neither Nate or Fallon had made a move to repeat yesterday's steamy events — or even talk about it. It was as if I'd miraculously become a proper princess overnight. I even had to sleep alone in that stuffy princess suite.

"I care more for loyalty," I said, loud enough for the witches to hear.

The head cook's jowls flamed with impatience as the silence dragged on at my leisure, and I added her to the list of those I would ask Addy to interrogate after this. The cook didn't seem the kind to run a loose ship, and I suspected she was well aware of the poison slipped into the guards' food, if not the instigator. Thus she was our best lead in the case for finding Aurora.

But first...

"I require volunteers," I said aloud. "Men and women who will follow my orders before all others. Spell-casters who come willingly."

There was a beat of silence. The witches stirred, glancing to their left and right.

An older woman piped up. "What you ask is treason. We are loyal servants of the Crown."