FORTY-FOUR

 

Weeks passed. The snow melted and the roads turned into a quagmire of mud. Then that, too, dried, until there was little to deter anyone but the most timid horseman from reaching her father's keep.

Zuleika expected the king's men hourly, knowing it was only a matter of time before he discovered that she'd lifted the curse at Beacon Isle and was once again within his borders. Within easy grasp. He might not have a powerful witch at his disposal, but she was still weak from losing so much blood. Casting more than the most minor spell would tax her strength, leaving her as helpless as any normal woman in the hands of a much stronger man, and she swore she would die before she let the king touch her again.

No man would, for her heart belonged to his brother.

So she waited, and rested, and while she rested, she read. She read every book and scroll in her mother's bower, and when she was finished, she read them again. Never again would she curse an object as she had her mother's mirror, at least not without some safeguard in place to prevent the curse from enchanting the same person more than once. And never without some loophole that would allow someone else to break the spell without spilling her blood.

It hadn't escaped her that if she'd created the very loophole the king had invented, her love for Vardan would have broken the spell weeks ago, and he would never have needed to know about her powers, or that she'd cast the curse in the first place. There was no point in wishing Thorn's lies were true, though. Even if she were to cast a spell on him so that any lie he told transformed into truth, it would be too late to help her.

So, sighing, she returned to her books. She'd heard whispers about a witch who could weave the fates of men into real cloth on her loom, and she wanted to know whether it was possible before she sought out the witch to stop her. Cursing men was one thing, but taking their free will and rewriting their destiny? That went too far. She wanted to believe that the woman was merely a seer whose skills allowed her to illuminate a man's path to his desired goal, but if the stories were correct, she demanded a high price from her would-be clients, and those who chose not to engage her services found themselves threatened with ruin in the most horrible ways.

Shouts from the courtyard below dragged her thoughts from the dry manuscript before her. More voices than there should be in her father's house right now. Her time had run out – the king's men had come for her.

Zuleika sighed. She might not be completely recovered, but she was well enough to cast a portal. Were they just in the main courtyard, or had they overrun the keep already? Zuleika peered out the window. If she could make it to the kitchen garden...

She gripped the window sill, forgetting about spells or escape. The courtyard was filled with laden wagons, and more were plodding up the road to the keep. The shouts she'd heard were orders for every able man in the household to help unload the goods Zuleika recognised from the storehouses on Beacon Isle. Vardan had kept his word, and returned everything.

Zuleika flew down the steps to her father's study, where she found him in deep discussion with a man whose voice she recognised as belonging to Rolf, Vardan's steward.

"I already told you, he will accept no payment for the return of your goods," Rolf said irritably. "He's done this as an act of goodwill, because he needs merchants like you to join with him in league against pirates and kings who make doing business impossible, and he knows the losses you have already suffered. He asks but one thing from you." Rolf's eyes darted in Zuleika's direction, though he did not meet her gaze. "That you send him the Lady Zuleika."

Father's face turned red. "That's preposterous. Sell my virgin daughter to a rebel who opposes the king? Better I send her to court, where she will find a husband whose armies will fight this insanity. Why, the king himself has expressed his interest in my daughter for a bride. I'll not have her sold into slavery to a man who holds me to ransom!"

"Prince Vardan does not buy or sell slaves, Father," Zuleika said. "If he seeks to set up a league of merchants, doubtless he has heard of how fast I can travel, and he wishes to engage my services as an envoy to turn this league into a reality before someone breathes word of it to the king. If you join him in this, as your daughter, the other merchants will listen to me. Wouldn't it be a relief to only have to lose your ship to a storm, instead of so many other things? If only to save your fortunes alone, I would go, but to set up lasting trade agreements across the world? It would be an honour, Father." Now she found Rolf staring at her, and she met his gaze without flinching. "If the prince wants me, he shall have me."

If only he wanted her the way she wanted him.