The Royal Wizard (14 page)

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Saeran saw the knight Arnaud step into the fray, following Nia. She was in Hundr’s arms now, but before Arnaud could join them, Hundr passed Nia to Geir and away from the knight. Geir lifted Nia by her waist to spin her around while Saeran found himself with the shy Dagmar in his arms. He smiled at her briefly, but his attention was on Nia and the knight following after her from Geir to Konall, to old Sigmarr, and back to Geir.

“Your Majesty!” Brigit called, but Hundr pulled her away as Elsa replaced Dagmar. Maeve caught the knight’s hand, but he shook her off and continued around the circle after Nia like a bloodhound after a scent. Saeran turned Svana around to go the opposite way. Hundr with Brigit danced quicker than the rest, past him and halfway around the circle in a few steps. And just as Nia spun away from Tannir, as Saeran was preparing to switch partners yet again, Brigit stuck her foot out and tripped Nia in the direction of the blazing bonfire. Saeran let go of Svana with gasp and made a grab for Nia as she tipped forward, arms flailing to stop herself.

He caught hold of her sleeve and pulled her upright into his arms just in time, and when her gaze met his, Saeran went deaf and blind to the world.
Nia.

She shivered as if she’d heard him speak her name. She couldn’t have. Only in the deepest, most secret corner of his heart would he ever dare to say it that way, with the whole of his soul calling out in anguished longing to the mate it could not reach.

“Lady Nia,” Arnaud said close enough to startle him.

Saeran felt his mouth pull into a snarl. With Nia in his arms, he spun out of the circle of dancers. Darkness pulled around them and a facsimile of them broke off to continue in the current of dancers. The darkness was his; the illusion Nia’s. Taking her hand in his, he pulled her into the woods, far from prying eyes.

He took them so far the massive bonfire was little more than a flicker, but not so far he couldn’t hear the revelers anymore. Only then did he release the shadows around them. “Wait, Saeran—”

He crowded Nia against the trunk of a tree.

“This is not real,” she said in a rush, “It’s Beltaine. It’s affecting all of us.”

“No, Nia, this is us.” His mouth descended on hers before she could say anything else. Too long denied, Saeran gorged himself on the taste of her. He couldn’t pull away and wished with everything he was that he could stop time just once more, have this much of her at least. As if she’d whispered it in his ear, Saeran felt the same wish in Nia.

She kissed him back, her fingers grasping at his shoulders to hold him close. A strange fervor had them in its hold, demanding they give in to its power. Nia let go of everything. She willed the mischievous sprites away, ignored the shadows that weaved between the trees, watching her, waiting. If this was another test, it was the cruelest one yet. Out here, she couldn’t hold back from Saeran, not even knowing it might destroy her. She yielded to her king, giving herself this one moment because there would not, could not, be another. Nia opened her mind and soul to feel everything around her breathe. The entire forest and all that lived within it leaned and bent toward them, flooding her senses and making her body sing under Saeran’s touch.

She wrapped her arms around him to hold him close and everything else sighed away, leaving nothing but Nia and Saeran. Their feet left the forest floor and this time, she embraced it. Saeran’s hands searched for the fastenings of her robes, slipping inside while the garment fell away. She wore nothing underneath, and his hands slid over her skin, caressing molding, teasing. She moaned, the sound muffled by his kisses.

It was dangerous to feel this way, but she couldn’t stop it. With no more than a gesture, Saeran’s jerkin and shirt disappeared. Her breasts flattened against his bare chest and she shivered, bringing her leg forward to hook her ankle around his calf.

Skin to skin, she could feel Saeran’s mind and soul open, and she couldn’t help falling into both. Joined with him this way they shared thought and sensation, feeling with each other, for each other, in a dizzying cycle. Saeran’s heart beat fast and hard and Nia’s matched it. Blood roared in her ears, yet she could still hear his every breath and all the words he didn’t speak. She reveled in the moment, committed every detail to memory. He kissed her, touched her, gave her all of himself, and she sensed his determination to show her with his body what he couldn’t tell her in words—that she was his and no one else would ever lay claim to her.

It broke her heart.

Saeran shuddered. “Don’t,” he whispered. “Don’t hurt.” But when she looked into his eyes, she could see the same pain reflected back at her. Saeran cupped her cheek, drawing breath to say what was shining in his heart. Nia kissed him, stealing the words from his lips. Words held power and once spoken, they could never be taken back.

Nia caressed his shoulders and back, her nails scoring lightly before she looped her arms around him to bring him to her heart. With one swift motion, Saeran buried himself inside her and she cried out against his shoulder as he tore through virgin flesh. 

Saeran moved slowly, taking his time to bring her pleasure to take away the pain. His thrusts were deep and sure, so deep that she no longer knew where he ended and she began. She felt their souls twine together like sheens of mist over the moors and in a single moment of perfect ecstasy the mists pulled tighter, binding her to Saeran in some elemental way.

As the feeling faded, her awareness of Saeran did too, and within moments she was alone in her mind, as if none of it had happened. They descended back to earth on a current of magic, in a tangle of limbs she didn’t want to leave. Saeran held Nia to him as if afraid she would disappear. They were so close when one inhaled, the other exhaled, as if they breathed for each other, their hearts beating in unison. “Beautiful Nia,” Saeran said. “Be my queen, beloved. Sit by my side forever.”

His words cut her to the quick, and Nia squeezed her eyes shut. Too far. They went too far. Saeran had not been meant to be hers this night. They’d stolen a moment from time, but that was all they could ever have. She knew what had to be said, though her heart broke to say it. “No,” she whispered and a part of her died.

Saeran didn’t push her away, knowing as well as she that he asked the impossible. Instead, he tightened his hold on her, giving her awhile longer to pretend. As long as he held her, nothing else mattered except that she was his and he belonged to her.

They stayed there until morning light. Cushioned by the soft forest grass, covered by the blanket Nia wove from the plants around them, they didn’t stir and no creature intruded.

When at last sunlight tickled her eyelids and teased her awake, she cursed the light of day. Saeran slept soundly in her arms, her head nestled against his heart, but he woke when he felt her move. He smiled at her and kissed her, squeezed her closer as he stretched.

But his smile died away too quickly. “They will be looking for us,” he said.

Nia nodded and slowly rose, calling for her clothing. Everything fell down from the branches above with a shower of leaves that caressed her sensitive skin. She dressed in silence, trying to ignore the cry in her heart. She had known what would happen if she got too close to the king, but she’d done it anyway. It was her own fault, and she would have to live with the consequences.

When she faced Saeran again, he was dressed, his jaw set and his eyes hard with regret. She held her hand out to him and he came to her, pulling her into his arms. For a moment, she basked in his strength and warmth. For a moment too long she remained in his embrace, wishing.

She couldn’t make herself move away; her very soul protested it. And so Nia did the only thing she could. “Good morning, my king,” she told him before squeezing her eyes shut and sending Saeran to his bedchamber alone.

Left holding nothing but air, Nia stood there until she could breathe again. It was almost noon when she summoned her staff and walked. She wandered the forest without aim or direction until she came to a lake hidden by thick foliage. There, she shed her clothes and stepped inside, wishing the lake could cleanse the grief from her soul.

“Where are you?” she demanded.

Silence answered her. The sprites who’d pulled her and Saeran away from the dancers last night didn’t appear, but she didn’t expect them to. Their mischief was finished; they had no reason to come back again.

Furious, she drew magic from so deep inside she felt it tug on her heart. “Show yourselves!” she commanded, trying to force her will on the Others. “Gods damn you, you don’t know what you have done!”

Nothing stirred, not even the wind.

Nia dropped to her knees in the lake with the water up to her chest and lowered her head until her nose almost touched it. As light played over the rippling surface, images appeared. What should have been. Nia and Saeran leaving the circle in opposite directions to stand watch over the people until morning. Nia leading them all back to the castle as the sun came up and bidding Saeran a good morning by the great hall. They would have parted as friends and everything would have been all right.

Instead the wood sprites had interfered and made the drunken Brigit trip Nia right into Saeran. With the Veil so thin, magic had saturated the earth and air, and everyone capable of sensing it had been drunk on its heady power. Even by the light of day Nia still felt the effects of what the sprites had done and knew there would be no easy way back. Saeran would never be satisfied with only friendship now; she’d sensed it in his heart last night and was even more certain of it today. He would defy everything and everyone for her.

The lake rippled again, and in the light-play over its surface she saw Aegirans gathering in force. If Saeran refused the bride he’d sworn himself to they would stop at nothing to tear him and Wilderheim apart. To the last they would fight and die to avenge such an unforgivable betrayal.

Nia’s tears dropped silently into the lake, marring the vision. 

The water embraced her. It warmed to her and grieved with her.
Have hope,
it said.

“There is no hope, there never was.”

Always hope,
it replied. If only she could believe it.

Nia didn’t return to the castle until she was certain she could hold her cloak of shadows and hide from everyone, including the king. Avoiding the great hall, she went to her study instead, finding what little solace there was in her tomes and scrolls.

She picked up one after the other, gazing at the words without seeing them, no matter how hard she tried to make out their meaning. Food held no taste and wine burned like acid as it slid down her throat.

She dared not sleep that night, afraid of what she might dream. When morning found her the next day, Nia’s eyes stung from the tears she’d locked inside. Her jaw ached from clenching her teeth against the pain, and her body was cramped from sitting huddled on the floor.

How she wished her mentor was there to counsel her. She needed his advice, his shoulder to lean on. “Nico,” she whispered brokenly. “Why did you not warn me?”

For the first time, not even the remnants of his power in the walls could console her. Heartbroken, she let the tears come. 

CHAPTER 14

The council of advisors met in its entirety for the first time in Saeran’s presence. Nia should have been there, but she had not deigned to appear, just as she hadn’t been there for the last three court sessions. She would not be called, summoned, or brought before him. She was avoiding him, and Saeran had no idea why.

The sun had set long ago, his fire was dying down, and he still couldn’t sleep. Pacing his chambers, he tried yet again to summon his wayward wizard. Closing his eyes, he imagined her there with him and willed it to be so. It didn’t work.

Cursing, he poured water into the scrying bowl and concentrated to conjure a vision of her in its depths. Instead of Nia’s golden hair he saw a dirt road and a caravan of wagons traveling north. Dark skinned men and women dressed in colorful draping attire walked on either side of a closed carriage and armed guards surrounded it from all sides, sharp eyes on alert for any threat.

Saeran swiped the bowl off the table, his heart thudding in his chest. No, it couldn’t be. It was too soon. He raked a shaky hand through his hair, looking out the window, but the breeze blowing in from the south only confirmed his vision. They were close. What few lights still flickered in cottages were going out one by one as the kingdom settled in for the night, but he could almost make out a lighted camp far beyond the towns, and all he wanted to do was disappear.

Storming out of his chambers he ran to the staircase and down to the empty great hall. The guards woke from their half slumber and stood to attention as he passed, but he ignored them. He traced the path he’d walked a dozen times today, out into the courtyard, to the small door and the stairway down to Nia’s underground study. Where he would have stopped and turned back before, he shoved the door open and marched down there heedless of what he would find. If she was hurt or afraid, he could soothe her, but he couldn’t go on this way anymore.

“Nia,” he called, throwing open the door at the bottom of the stairway without knocking.

Nia looked up from the scroll she was writing on, and it was all Saeran could do not to sweep her into his arms then and there. Passionate words locked in his throat, foolish words.

“Yes?” she said.

Saeran started for her but hit an invisible wall halfway there. “Nia?”

“Your Majesty.”

He frowned. “What is this? Release me.”

“It is a ward,” she said. “You are free to move anywhere on that side of it.”

“Is this a test…or another lesson?” His entire being ached to touch her. Why would she deny him?

“No. The magic lessons have become a detriment to both of us. I will not be continuing your instruction.” Dipping her quill in ink, she bent over her scroll again.

Her careless dismissal shocked him, but if Nia wanted to play, so be it. Saeran placed his hands on the ward and traced it left and right, searching for an edge. The cursed thing was a perfect circle surrounding her with no way in that he could discern.