The High Warlocks Wife

I watched as the morning sun slowly crept across my bedroom floor.

I had been awake since the seagulls began crying outside my window. Then, sometime after dawn, the black sails of the Royal family appeared on the horizon, seeming to merge with the dark storm clouds that followed behind the massive ship.

Prince Emris was aboard.

He had been waiting for me.

He must have arrived sometime during the night. He hadn’t docked his ship, instead remaining far out at sea, close enough to see the harbor but distant enough to make it clear that he was waiting.

Waiting for me.

What would the Prince do when he discovered who I was?

What would he do when he learned what I was?

Would he kill me?

Would he let me go?

I shuddered and pulled the sheet over my head.

My stomach twisted violently.

I couldn’t look at the ship anymore.

I had watched from my window as the flagship separated from the larger warship and sailed toward Summercrest Harbor. Prince Emris would be angry if my uncle turned his men away again.

Perhaps that was why he had come himself.

Perhaps he had come to collect me.

I sighed and slowly peeked out from beneath the sheet, glancing toward the window again.

Would going with the Prince really be better than staying here?

A door opened somewhere in the hallway.

I could hear my uncle preparing for the day. Soon, he would send Aunt Gracie to make sure I was properly dressed.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

There was no point hiding beneath the sheet. Gracie would see me the moment she opened the door.

Footsteps approached.

Boot heels struck against the worn wooden floorboards of the darkened hallway.

I forced down another wave of nausea and shoved the sheet away.

I climbed out of bed just as the lock on my door clicked.

I hurried into my small bathroom, lifted the cool bucket of water, and poured it into the basin beneath the mirror.

A moment later, Aunt Gracie rounded the corner.

“You look horrible,” she accused.

I winced.

“Did you sleep at all?”

I sighed and splashed the cold water over my face.

“Sorry, Aunt Gracie. I had a hard time sleeping last night.”

She stepped into the room and looked me over from head to toe, her eyes narrowing.

“I am fine,” I assured her. “I promise.”

“Well, you had better be.”

Hiram’s voice came from behind her.

I looked up as my uncle came to a stop beside his wife.

His dark hair had been combed back into a long braid, threaded with gold beads that matched the chains and rings adorning him. The gold caught the morning light as he looked me up and down, his expression unreadable.

“Today is not the day to be ill,” he said.

“You had best not fuck this up,” Hiram reminded me.

I nodded quickly and turned away, reaching for my dress.

Hiram scowled at me.

“I have put too much time and money into this union,” he said. “If you fuck this up, you won’t have a home to come back to, Nalia.”

I froze.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?”

I swallowed.

“I understand.”

His expression hardened.

“I will kill you myself if he sends you back.”

I nodded quickly.

“I know. I promise I will keep the Prince’s attention.”

I didn’t have a choice.

If Emris sent me back, my uncle would very likely kill me himself.

I waited for Hiram to leave, but instead he wandered back into my bedroom and sat down on the edge of my bed.

“What dresses were you considering?” he demanded.

I sighed and wrapped my robe more tightly around myself before following him back into the bedroom.

Aunt Gracie waved for the maids to come inside. They immediately set to work, helping me bathe and preparing the rest of my clothing.

“I was considering these three,” I admitted.

I gestured toward the dresses as the maids rolled the mannequins into place.

The first was a lush pink gown, with delicate silk roses carefully pinned throughout the fabric.

The second was yellow and much plainer.

Gracie had insisted that yellow represented life and birth. According to her, if the Prince saw me wearing the color, he would instantly want to put a child inside me.

I wasn’t entirely sure I believed her.

But I wasn’t willing to take the chance of choosing the wrong dress. I shuddered.

The color had become increasingly disgusting to me.

The last dress, however, was not one I had chosen.

I frowned as the maid rolled it past me.

It was a luxurious black satin gown, sheer around the midriff and cut high along the skirt, with long, flowing panels that moved like dark ribbons whenever the mannequin shifted.

“I think there has been a mistake—”

Hiram stood from where he had been lounging on my bed.

Before I could finish, he yanked the delicate dress from the display and thrust it toward me.

“Put it on.”

I sighed and turned toward the bathroom, but he moved faster.

He stepped in front of me and closed the door before I could reach it.

I stopped.

I didn’t speak.

I didn’t look at him.

The door snapped shut behind me.

“Put it on,” Hiram repeated.

My bottom lip trembled.

“You were just here last night…”

I hadn’t seen the switch he was holding.

I hadn’t seen him bring it with him.

But the moment his arm lifted, I knew.

It was already too late.

The tip of the thin switch caught my cheek, slicing across my skin.

I flinched.

“Put. It. On.”

I swallowed the blood gathering inside my cheek.

My hands dropped to the edge of my robe.

I let it fall to the floor.

Then I folded one arm across my chest and held out the other hand toward Hiram, waiting for the dress.

He snickered and shoved it into my hands.

The black, airy fabric fluttered between us.

I bent down and began pulling it over my body.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Hiram turn toward the door.

My knees felt weak.

A sob rose in my throat.

“Nalia, come now. The Prince awaits.”

Aunt Gracie’s voice came from outside.

I glanced at myself in the mirror.

The sight of my reflection broke something inside me.

A sob escaped before I could stop it.

The door opened again, and one of the maids hurried inside.

She sighed when she saw me.

“Come here.”

She gently adjusted the dress, fastening what Hiram had left undone and arranging the sheer fabric across my waist.

Then she guided me toward my vanity.

I sat before the mirror while she began working on my hair and face.

I stared at my reflection without really seeing myself.

“Come now, Miss,” the maid murmured.

Her voice softened.

“At least you’ll be leaving this place.”

I blinked.

For the first time, I looked at her through the mirror.

She lowered her voice to a whisper.

“At least you’ll be leaving this place.”

I didn’t know whether she meant it as a good thing or not. I’d keep the scene harsh and uncomfortable, but make the dialogue more natural and threatening, while clarifying that Nalia is being treated as part of Hiram’s political investment rather than as a person.

“At what price?” I mocked her.

I looked down at myself in the mirror.

“Once the Prince discovers that I’m used goods, he’ll either kill me or, worse, send me back here to become my uncle’s problem again.”

I sighed.

Hiram would kill me if I ruined this marriage.

There was no doubt in my mind.

I left the room and made my way toward the foyer, where they were waiting for me.

Gracie had changed into her green morning coat and was already wearing her traveling gloves.

Hiram pushed past one of the maids the moment he saw me and shoved me toward the doorway, into the bright morning sunlight.

“At least the makeup can hide the fact that you’re sick,” he muttered. “You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”

I said nothing.

Mostly because it was true.

I hadn’t slept properly in a week.

Hiram had made certain of that with his nightly visits. And now that he knew his time with me was coming to an end, he had been more relentless than ever.

A shudder passed through me.

“I was excited about the Prince’s arrival,” I lied. “I stayed up late studying. I wanted to be prepared to host him at tonight’s banquet.”

Hiram gave a wheezing, cough-like laugh.

“What? You suddenly think you can play housewife?”

I lowered my eyes.

“You’re being sold, Nalia. You are the Prince’s problem now.”

He waved a dismissive hand.

Then his nose wrinkled.

“For fuck’s sake, what is that smell?”

He waved his hand in front of his face before reaching over and throwing open the carriage window.

“Lavender oil,” I answered quietly. “I pressed it from the garden.”

I had used barely any.

Just a small drop behind each ear.

Hiram grimaced.

“Disgusting weeds.”

He pulled a cigar from his pocket and quickly lit it.

I closed my eyes as the smoke stung them before drifting past me and out through the open carriage window.

Another disgusting habit of my uncle’s.

One I had never understood.

Aunt Gracie fussed over my clothes and hair the entire journey to the harbor, adjusting my dress and smoothing my sleeves whenever she noticed the slightest imperfection.

Hiram, meanwhile, reminded me exactly how important it was to remain quiet.

“Let the men do the talking,” he instructed. “You speak only when the Prince speaks to you.”

I nodded.

There was little else I could do.

At least he couldn’t easily beat me in such a confined space without drawing attention to himself.

Hiram continued as though I hadn’t heard him the first dozen times.

“You need to understand what is at stake here.”

I stared out the carriage window.

“This is about more than you, Nalia. It is about our family.”

I remained silent.

“You are my ward. I have protected you faithfully since your parents died.”

His voice carried a note of self-importance.

“Now we have an opportunity to raise this family to an entirely new level. Fame. Wealth. Glory.”

He leaned toward me.

“We could become one of the most powerful houses in the kingdom.”

I kept my eyes on the passing landscape.

“So you will do whatever is necessary to please the Prince.”

He paused.

“Do you understand me?”

I nodded.

“Yes, Uncle.”

“You will be agreeable. You will be obedient. And you will give him every reason to keep you.”

My fingers tightened around the fabric of my dress.

“Yes, Uncle.”

Hiram leaned back against the carriage seat, apparently satisfied.

“You’d better,” he muttered.

I looked out toward the horizon.

The black sails of the Royal ship were still visible in the distance.

Prince Emris was waiting for me.

And I had no idea whether I was being carried toward my salvation...or my execution.

I didn’t answer. I knew what was waiting for me on that ship. Hiram had told me plenty of times over the years, especially since he had started visiting my chambers.

“I promise to do my very best,” I said automatically, using the safest answer I could think of.

If he struck me now, no amount of makeup would be able to hide the resulting welts and bruises.

Do and say anything to avoid setting him off.

Knowing Hiram, he would drag me back to the Manor just to teach me a lesson—and to spite the Prince.

Again.

My gaze returned to the massive ship waiting beyond the harbor.

But he had never shown himself in person before. And Hiram had never been this excited to see a Royal ship on his shores.

“He has the nerve to bring a warship into my harbor,” Hiram grumbled, his tone laced with irritation.

“Perhaps he is sailing home,” I reminded him. “The war only ended a year ago—”

Hiram laughed and nodded, puffing on his cigar before spitting out the window.

“I know,” he reminded me. “The number of ships that came through here last spring, when it ended, was madness. Everyone wanted to get a glimpse of the Princess-to-be.”

Hiram rolled his eyes.

“It was good for the economy of the village, but after that, it was simply annoying. They all stopped coming when they realized they would never get a glimpse of you.”

I remembered that summer.

It had been unbearably hot inside the house, and the island had been crowded with tourists and refugees fleeing the aftermath of the war. I had been forced to spend most of my time indoors because Hiram feared someone might try to harm me—or worse.

When he had mentioned that, I started leaving my room after he went to bed, spending my time down at the reefs with the sea turtles.

I would rather take my chances out there with strangers who might end me quickly if they happened across me than spend another moment trapped with Hiram, who seemed determined to prolong my suffering.

Or perhaps the Prince would take one look at me and change his mind.

He might decide to end our engagement right then and there.

I shuddered as my mind filled with images of what would happen when I returned to the Manor with Hiram.

A prison cell for the rest of my life.

If the Prince rejected me as his wife, I would die on this island.

I knew it.

I was already feeling sick when the carriage finally stopped. The doors opened, and a gust of cool wind swept inside, clearing my mind for a moment.

Hiram turned to help his wife from the carriage, leaving me to struggle with the delicate dress he had forced me to wear.

When we stepped onto the dock and began walking toward the ship carrying the Prince, we were immediately met by three men.

Two of them were clearly guards.

The man in the middle, however, was clearly something other than simply Human. He was tall and well-built, with a bow strapped across his back. His red hair stirred in the wind as his green eyes moved between the three of us.

“We are looking for the Lady of House Crast,” he announced as Hiram stepped forward.

“I am Lord Crast,” Hiram replied in a falsely cheerful tone. “My lady wife is the Mistress of this island.”

The man glanced past him and looked directly at me.

“Lady Crast?” he asked.

Hiram turned and threw me a warning glance.

“Yes?” I answered hesitantly.

The man smiled and bowed before me.

“Princess, I am Niko, a messenger and trusted adviser to Prince Emris.”

My heart thundered at the sound of his name.

“I have been sent to retrieve you,” he continued. “And I must stress that we are in something of a time crunch.”

Hiram scoffed and looked around the harbor before turning his attention back to the massive ship waiting offshore.

“The good Prince could not be bothered to come ashore himself and present himself respectfully to the ward of this island?” he demanded furiously.

I felt myself blush and lowered my gaze.

Niko was still watching me.

“I am here only to escort Her Majesty safely to the ship,” he explained calmly. “By any means necessary. So I suggest you no longer keep me from my duties, sir.”

Hiram looked as though Niko had slapped him.

“What is the name of this disrespectful prick the Prince has sent to me?”

The man smiled.

“Niko. I am the personal bodyguard to Her Highness, Princess Nalia.”

Hiram burst out laughing.

“Her? A Princess? Have you lost your Skavi mind?” he demanded between laughs, ashing his cigar onto the dock. “Nalia is so plain that the Prince will return her within a week.”

Niko turned away from him and faced me.

His eyes roamed over me for a moment, taking in the delicate dress, the skimpy lace, and the way the thin fabric left far too much of me exposed to the cold air.

Then he looked at Hiram.

The disgust in his expression was unmistakable.

Without a word, Niko removed his cloak and carefully wrapped it around my shoulders.

“Storms are approaching rapidly, Princess,” he explained. “We should be on our way.”

Hiram reached out and gripped my wrist.

“There is still the matter of payment, good sir,” he reminded Niko. “Does the Prince not intend to pay me?”

Niko’s eyes narrowed.

“Prince Emris hereby concludes his dealings with you, Lord Crast.”

He nodded to the two guards, who immediately moved to flank me.

Then Niko reached into his pocket and flicked a coin toward my uncle’s feet.

“Prince Emris thanks you.”

I watched as my uncle’s face turned bright red.

He stepped forward.

“Is the Prince so dishonorable—”

Niko moved before he could finish.

He drove the hilt of his sword into Hiram’s stomach.

My uncle cried out and doubled over, gasping for air.

Niko leaned closer, his voice suddenly quiet.

“I assure you, the next time Emris sees you, it will be the last.”

Then he straightened and turned back toward me as though nothing had happened.

“When you are ready, Princess,” he said, “Prince Emris is eager to see you.”

My stomach dropped.

Slowly, I turned toward the enormous ship waiting beyond the harbor.

The wind tugged at Niko’s cloak around my shoulders as the first dark clouds gathered overhead.

I stared at the ship, knowing that whatever awaited me on the other side of that water, there was no turning back now.

And deep inside, I couldn’t shake the certainty that death awaited me wherever that current carried me.