Warrior Witch (The Malediction Trilogy #3)

Roland sat straight-backed in a chair before an easel in Angoulême’s parlor. His brow was softer than usual, cheeks rounded with a smile as he dipped a brush in a dollop of crimson paint and began adding deft little touches to the piece. He was strikingly talented, his subject represented in exquisite detail. Unfortunately.

“Macabre,” the Queen murmured over my shoulder. “But the boy is naught but a tool in your enemy’s arsenal.” The view shifted, Roland relegated to the periphery in favor of Angoulême and Lessa, who stood bent over a map covered in what appeared to be golden Guerre pieces. He was dressed as was his custom, but she wore what I could only describe as armor: dull black leather reinforced with crimson scales. A sword hung at her side and she awkwardly touched the pommel from time to time in a way Ana?s never would’ve. How Angoulême had not recognized she was an impostor was beyond me.

“You’ll take him and the rest of your party down the Ocean Road while my mother sets our plans into action in Courville,” he said, tracing a finger along the map. “Don’t waste your time on the smaller hamlets – we have others who will manage those.”

“Not even to make a point?” she asked. “His Highness might enjoy that.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Roland smile.

Angoulême shook his head. “Make a point of those who refuse to swear allegiance to him. To him,” he repeated, turning to Lessa. “Tristan has shown an unwillingness to harm his brother in the past, and we can use that to our advantage. The sooner we swell our ranks, the sooner we can set humans to fighting humans. Tristan will be distracted with the task of keeping them from slaughtering each other, and then we’ll make our first move.”

Lessa scowled. “I want him–”

“In time,” Angoulême said, cutting her off and casting a meaningful glance in Roland’s direction. “Not even he can take them both on at the same time, and the boy has shown some reticence. We must be strategic.”

Several other trolls I recognized as aristocrats loyal to Angoulême came into the room, all dressed similarly to Lessa, the Dowager Duchesse Damia among them.

“We need to move now, Your Grace,” one of them said. “Thibault’s soldiers have the River Road and labyrinth gates secured and are enforcing curfew. Unless you want to fight your way through, we need to break open one of the old sluag tunnels and make our way through the labyrinth.”

“No fighting,” Angoulême said. “I want Trollus intact when His Highness takes the throne. We’ll be along in a moment. Wait outside.”

The trolls departed. “They’ll guide you to the outskirts of the rock fall,” Angoulême said. “Keep you safe from any sluag you come across. Are you ready for this?”

“All my life,” Lessa said in perfect mimicry of Ana?s’s voice. “Your Highness, it is time for us to go.”

A flash of annoyance crossed the boy’s face, but he got to his feet. “I would wear my new sword,” he announced, and left the room.

The mood in the room shifted as soon as Roland departed, and Angoulême rested a hand on the small of Lessa’s back. “I’ve instructed him to follow your council,” he said. “But make no mistakes. He snaps at his fetters like a rabid dog, and I won’t be there to protect you if he sees through our deception.”

“I don’t make mistakes,” Lessa said, and she tried to pull out of his grip, but Angoulême caught her wrist.

“When this is over, you’ll be queen,” he said. “I will make you queen.”

She smiled, her face full of naked adoration. Then she turned back to the map, her fingers resting on the edge of the paper. “A shame I couldn’t go with you – I would’ve liked to see the faces of my ancestors.”

Before the Duke could respond, Roland came back into the room. “You said it was time.”

Neither acknowledged him. Instead, Lessa leaned over and kissed the Duke’s cheek. “Victory will be ours,” she said. “And it will be thanks to you… Father.”

The three of them departed.

The tear slowly began to heal from top to bottom, edges folding in until it was gone. I glanced up at the Queen, who cocked both eyebrows. “Well?”

“I was expecting to see the troll King.”

Her eyes glittered. “You didn’t ask to see him.”

I opened my mouth to argue, then shut it again. I’d asked to see my enemy, and she’d shown me Angoulême, which meant that was who she believed it to be. Given she saw all, that was no small thing. Now we knew the Duke was leaving Trollus, that he intended to recruit humans – unwillingly – to his cause, and that Roland was giving them some trouble. Best of all, Lessa had given away where we were to find him. I would’ve liked to see the faces of my ancestors…

“Of course, if you’d like to see your… father-in-law, it is easily done.” The Queen’s smile revealed a maw full of razor sharp teeth. I blinked, and they were gone. “For a small price.”

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