Nasty Little Witchling

I bundled up in a new coat Janette had brought me for the start of winter, pulling the woollen collar up to protect my neck from the wind chill on the balcony. The temperature had dropped significantly over the last few weeks, the first snow of the year drifting onto my shoulders and hair. The falling flakes of ice didn’t fill me with dread now that every part of my skin, except my rosy cheeks, was covered in a fluffy garment.

Winter had generally been a very gloomy experience, with the cottage not being secure and only having the occasional fire for heat. Mother often sent me out to collect plants that would only grow under the snow in clothing I now knew wasn’t meant for the weather.

I understood why. The tinctures and remedies sold well during the colder season since they were cheaper than seeing a healer for every minor ailment. Ulia and I had been trading recipes for them every other day to forward Jeremy’s goal of gaining her trust. However, we hadn’t yet got the one for dragon’s breath or the name and location of the rest of the coven.

I’d spent so much time with her that I wondered if it would be okay to release her. I was once considered a witch and I wasn’t that much of a danger to the people around me. But, she would always shatter my perception of her by starting a spiel on how we must further her coven’s agenda.

An agenda that included toppling the dukes and barons and installing a regime favourable to the witches that would persecute mages, as was done during the Oclaran civil war.

It wasn’t something I wanted to be a part of.

I leaned most of my weight against the railing, not because it was the most comfortable but because my legs felt like they had no bones to hold me up. We’d had our last training of the season this morning, and Instructor Daniels wanted to make it count.

Yis had kept to his word most days and came to join as an instructor. The first day had been a mess, with many injuries needing the healer's attention due to people attempting to impress him.

He was either oblivious or didn’t care since he caused all that eager emotion to turn to ire when he personally trained me. It might have been worth it. Yis was more helpful in his tutelage than Instructor Daniels' preferred style of ‘letting me correct my own mistakes’ when my arrow went flying off target.

He managed to get me shooting straight with quicker motions that I didn’t need to adjust. The arrows weren’t landing in the centre of the target, but at least they were hitting.

When all that was left was repetitive target practice, Yis threw a bone at the feral animals that had been contemplating getting rid of me to shift his attention. The aspirants, not so subtly, jostled for the space they thought would be best to catch his eye. The knights even participated, showing him the same respect and deference that the younger aspirants showed other instructors.

He disappointed them by returning to me and handing over a long pole with a sack of sand tied at the end to imitate the weight of steel. It was a hefty piece of redwood on its own, making the drills he had me working through tiresome. Sometimes, the momentum of swinging it in a full arch would drag me stumbling after it when I’d gone through too many of the repetitive motions.

I’d only been deemed ready for more technical instruction after a full week of swinging and thrusting. Even then, it was only basic movements.

I let out a complaint or two during that time, but Yis didn’t care. It was helping me draw back the bowstring and do the warmup exercises, so even if he had asked if I wanted to stop, I would have declined. He would also not have let me.

Jeremy designated Yis to be my ‘handler,’ mainly because he didn’t want to come in the sewers with me to check on the rats' progress, which wasn’t much. They had found a few jars around the sewer that had been dropped or discarded to prove their capability. However, there were no scents to follow to the illegal alchemy stations the watch wanted to pounce on.

Their's and the military’s representatives were in the duke’s office daily to push for him to act, but all his other advisors counselled otherwise. Faraya’s interrogation of the prisoners hadn’t revealed any other collaborators besides low-interest groups, such as Fergie’s, which they knew more about thanks to Alister’s imprisonment.

I very willingly provided Jeremy with free interpretations for the newest crystals coming in from the duchy’s outer receivers to smooth over a Twig being mentioned by him. As far as I knew, he hadn’t spread that information and was more so relieved that I was the one who broke into Clem’s, taking some of my gambling winnings to compensate for the breakage.

Each crystal I examined wasn’t interesting on its own, but the template it provided for the others to be translated was affecting Jeremy’s mood. His expression was more dour the day after a foreign interception came in, and surprisingly, also for some of the intercepts from the other duchies.

Despite my rouge escapades, I still received the sleek new black clothing from Talia, which made my extra trips to the sewers without Yis more bearable. This was great because it was the only way I was able to get out of the castle. The inn’s owner had been bribed never to let me rent a room there again, and my things magically appeared back in the guest room one day.

The military advisors were ecstatic about the new information they were getting. They were able to update their maps and troop movements and see the outcomes of the eastern skirmishes earlier than before. According to Jeremy, all they were told was that he had new mortal sources, and he was now getting a portion of their roe allocation to expand those sources.

I didn’t get any of that roe, but it did mean I was seen as too important to be letting wander alone at night, something Yis made sound like I had a propensity for—a complete mischaracterisation of my actions. I still went out to see Quinten and gather some more books for my and Marty’s collection with Sam. However, it was with Yis or another knight out of uniform walking with me.

As long as Yis brought Sweeka along, I didn’t mind that much.

At night was the only time I was able to sneak into the sewers without an escort to widen and lengthen the tunnel I’d been digging into the gambling house. It was little more than a shaft masquerading as four smaller pipes that I needed to merge before going up. While completed, I had to wait till after the event happening later to enter without mages crowding the basement at all hours.

Haily poked her head into my room. “Ma’am, the Commander is calling for you in the duke’s office.”

I shook like a wet animal to get all the loose snow off, contemplating what I’d done to get an official summons. Usually, she and Jeremy dragged me for whatever they needed that day.

I followed Haily down the stairs and across the foyer, disliking her quick pace. The start of winter was the commencement of voting on who the baron would be for each city-state. In Haily’s opinion, more people in Drasda were lining up than ever before, so the palace staff were split, helping out with the tallying. The palace was also empty of knights as they were out patrolling in full force with the watch.

Confused kitchen staff had stored and unknowingly provided days' worth of scraps to pests they despised. It was given to the sewer rats to ensure there was no dragon’s breath remaining in the city before the voting and immensely popular gambling house event meant to celebrate.

Sweeka had managed to meet Bitsy again during the process, but he refused to be placed on the ground with the predator.

The office door Haily opened for me was unassuming from the outside. It was only occupied by four people, yet looked able to maintain a good chunk of knights in full uniform. The duke sat behind his large redwood desk, Jeremy admired the mana-rich ornaments on the bookshelf, Faraya lounged on one of the sofas, and General Kylepo sat straight-backed facing her.

By the contemplative and anxious looks, I was about to get hit with a worrying accusation. Of what, I wasn’t sure.

“I’m against it,” Jeremy said, starting the conversation off by confusing me more. “And so would Janette.”

“This is only to be known to those involved,” General Kylepo said. “If it’s to go ahead.”

“You can deal with her questions about Valeria, then.”

The duke stood up from behind his desk, walking around to guide me into a seat next to him. “You can always say no, Valeria. Faraya, this is your operation. Go ahead.”

This was less about me getting in trouble and more about them placing me into it. Again.

I’d agree to it, no matter what Faraya had to say, as long as it involved sneaking around and not fighting any peludas. The thing had sat outside the tunnel to the gambling house at one point, leaving me trapped and stranded. I managed to wait it out and get back to my room, pulling the covers as soon as Haily came in to wake me up.

“We’re not getting anywhere in the interrogations. The two outsiders, Pennie and Oleza, only knew about the incidents that already transpired or should have. They are almost certainly backed by the Oclarans, but their knowledge only goes so far as this Zara figure. You know how the witch is cooperating,” Faraya said. “And we captured someone attempting to find out where she was, but he was an intermediary without knowledge as to what exactly they were being involved in.”

“Are we in a rush?” I asked. “Everyone has been captured but two.”

There was still the coven, but Ulia always made it sound like they were outside the duchy. It was still a mystery why Drasda had been their target since there should have been others between them and us.

“Jeremy, through you, has uncovered multiple requests from a neighbouring duchy inquiring their outposts about the attack before they should have known of it. We want to let Ulia go and see where she leads us and who they then lead us to. Finding out who could be conspiring with them is more important than the coven itself.”

I nodded along, understanding what kind of trouble they were getting me involved in now. “Ah, you want me to go with her?”

“Absolutely not.” “We wouldn’t ask you to do that.” “No.”

I was back to needing clarification on what they wanted me for if that was outside the realm of possibilities.

“I like the idea,” General Kylepo said, leaning back into the sofa as everyone turned to him.

“No, we only want her to make the escape look real,” Faraya rebutted. “Obviously easier if Ulia thinks it’s being done by another witch.”

“But, we can now gain inside information before we snatch them all up. See who’s working with them without the fog of interrogation clouding any information,” the general said. “She’s perfect—a witch who has already gained the target’s trust, with a real established backstory. No one will question her, and we’ll have our forces following them just in case.”

The others didn’t vehemently deny the merits of the idea and instead discussed the dangers. I busily came up with answers to questions the witches might ask me based on what Ulia did, having already made my decision to go.

“The only awful part is sending her into harm's way,” Faraya admitted.

“And dealing with Janette,” Jeremy quietly remarked, raising his hands in the air when the duke frowned at him.

“No one needs to deal with Janette,” the duke said, staring at a single point on his desk. “It’s too dangerous, she’s not going.”

After that, we argued with the Duke, slowly wearing down the resolve of his objections until he agreed to, at minimum, hear out a plan that involved me going with Ulia.

…

My willingness to accept the plan went a long way in getting him to consider it, pending numerous discussions to ensure my safety. The duke was tasked with the hardest part of the operation: getting his partner and daughter to accept my potential disappearance. I had to tell Yis, which didn’t sound like the punishment the duke thought it was.

I was to receive lessons in the morning to replace my training with what the linguists could decipher about their language. However, I was confident I knew more than them since I’d talked to her the most and had picked up the more common words.

I drummed my long nails against the dining room table, my mind lost in the rhythmic clicking. The duke had invited me to lunch after the meeting, with more tension in his voice than the regular invitation warranted. There was a new painting hanging amongst the many others in the large hall usually used for meetings.

It was smaller than those of large sprawling landscapes with cities and forests depicted with single brush strokes. However, it had a place of distinction, hung beside the portraits of past and present Rikers.

It showed a girl riding a horse that looked like Polem, wearing a wide-brimmed hat and a vulture on her shoulder.

I’d been in a similar pose when Linh declared she wanted to sketch me. Except that girl with a cheerful smile, soft features, and mesmerising amber eyes wasn’t what I saw in the mirror. Linh had gone out of her way to present me in the best light possible.

Why was it in the palace to begin with?

A staff member came in to set the table for lunch. Not wanting to look vain, I stopped staring at the painting and moved on to other questions I had from the earlier meeting.

Would I have enough time between now and the plan’s commencement to carry out a separate prison escape? What would I do with the large cat-sìth and other predators? Were they capable of getting along and not tearing each other to pieces?

My primary and only plan currently was to get them into the sewers and possibly get rid of the peluda if it caused problems. But there were so many ways that mess could go wrong. None of them belonged in that environment, and like the peluda, they might resort to snacking on people to get their fill.

The rats would hate me for it, too.

Another thought I kept coming back to was purchasing them, except when Jeremy had given me a figure for one of the cheaper creatures, it became inconceivable. But I still came back to it, considering the taxes they owed.

I had no clue how it worked, but if the Triscars lost the barony, they might be pressured to pay those taxes—the declared profit and the undeclared that Jeremy was sure existed.

But why would the duke care to take animals over roe? Why would the barons give up their product over some coin? Would losing the barony even matter to people as influential as them?

The distant sound of an arguing couple drifted through the open doors from the extensive hallway. I straightened my back against the cushion of the chair, hoping to blend in and avoid any questions.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Vince,” Janette remarked. “Do you hear yourself?”

“The operative has made their decision,” Vince said slowly. “It’s in the duchy’s best interest.”

My eyes widened at the sound of a smack, and Janette walked in a moment later, muttering about headstrong leaders and the consequences of their decisions. Her expression brightened when noticing me sitting at the table, offering her greetings as if the previous conversation hadn’t happened.

The duke entered after her, rubbing his shoulder and shrugging with exaggeration behind his partner’s back. He sat down in a chair Janette pulled out for him across from me while she sat at the end of the table, far away from us, leaning back and opening a book.

“You’re not going to help me?” the duke asked. For a moment, I assumed he meant me talking Janette into liking the Ulia idea, but he wasn’t looking at me.

Janette didn’t look up, her eyes trailing across the pages. “Nope. I would have weeks ago, but you dragged this on too far.”

Having come from a meeting that had stressed my poor heart, I’d been hoping to have a quiet lunch. I checked the doorway to see if Annalise or really anyone else would be coming to join us—save me. However, only Haily entered, bringing in a pitcher of water.

If he wanted her help to convince me I couldn’t go with Ulia, there was a strong possibility I’d crumbled. However, maybe one prison break was enough excitement for me, and it would give me more time to plan.

“Well…”

I resisted the urge to tap my nails onto the table again as the duke bit his lip, considering his words very carefully.

“Both Janette and Morris have confirmed this.”

He paused again, too long for my increasing stress to handle. “Confirmed what?”

“I was young at the time…and Janette was very sick. The duchy and I had exhausted all other options available to help her. I was desperate. So much so that I can’t say I regret my decision despite the outcome, but I am sorry for it.”

Janette, who hadn’t turned a page in a long while, set the book down with a sigh. “Are you doing this on purpose so I’ll help you?”

“I’m providing context.”

“You’re stalling and making excuses.”

“Valeria,” Janette said, turning her gaze onto me. I’d been pouring myself a glass of water to distance myself from their quarrel, and the sudden attention made me spill. Everyone else had been asked to leave the room, so I was able to clean up my mess for once instead of a staff member swooping in.

I dabbed at the table with a napkin. “Yes?”

“It was your mother he went to for help. Do you remember telling us that all you knew about your father was that he was a mage? Well, I present the mage,” she said, gesturing to the duke.

The tension drained from my body, and I let my shoulders sag. “Oh.”

It made a certain amount of sense, looking back at what I knew. I didn’t care that he was technically my father. I told myself I didn’t care that I barely knew what a father was supposed to be. I looked to Janette as a distraction from the flood of thoughts. Each reconsidering his every action and word.

I was a piece of a transaction. My mother wanted a witch to carry on her lineage and knowledge, and the duke wanted a cure. Unfaithfulness was a leading cause of death in a number of my murder mysteries, but Janette was unconcerned or accepted that a cure was as good a reason as any.

Inexplicable anger overtook me, but I didn’t understand why. I didn’t care who he was besides the duke. It didn’t matter.

Was that the only reason I was allowed to stay here? Was that why I joined them for meals and events? Did I like that I was included? Did the reasoning behind the invites make them any less meaningful?

My head hurt from the torment of new questions, each leading to something else I hadn’t considered the implications of.

“Valeria?”

“What?” I snapped, lifting my head from where I’d been cradling it. Unsure who said my name. I recoiled after a breath, noticing the venom in my voice. “I’m sorry.”

I dipped my head, focusing on the tablecloth instead. The duke continued. “I’ve started preparations for an announcement—if that’s something you want. Officially, it will be a full adoption without the minutiae of the circumstances. You can use the family name—“

Shaking my head, I giggled in my delirium. I already had a family name I’d forsaken and didn’t need to tack on another. Just Valeria was fine with me. There was a string of words used to describe children born outside of a couple; it didn’t matter to me, but hearing them could get dull.

“I’m happy as is.” Possibly better if they had kept it to themselves.

It would have been incredibly awkward for the both of us if he offered to let me call him father. On a more pleasant note, Annalisa was my sister, though she wasn’t here for me to judge what she thought of that.

“Yis knew?” I asked, remembering him acting weird, and received a nod in return. “Who else?”

“Past and present advisors, along with Anna,” the duke said.

Yanla poked her head through the doorway, raising an eyebrow. At a signal I didn’t see, she nodded and left, returning with staff carrying three sets of meals.

It was obvious which was mine based on the extra leaves compared to charred and steamed slabs of meat. In an effort to convince myself I was unbothered by the news, I straightened in my seat and discarded the idea of storming out and finding a new inn to take my roe.

I glanced at the painting of me between small bites, comprehending why it was up there a little more.