The Spellbinding Courtship: Calatini Tales Book 0.5

by Katherine Dotterer

  He arched a brow. Not even he could eat that much of the rich dessert. "That's a lot of sweetice."

  Selena giggled. "Yes, but 'tis my favorite dessert. We never had it often, so when I was young, I'd devour mine then beg my parents for theirs. Mother would resist so I'd not get sick, but Father always gave me his last spoonful."

  Aragon grinned. He couldn't have resisted her begging either. "My brothers and I devoured everything as boys. Mother would say 'twas fortunate the Childes duchy was wealthy enough to feed our prodigious appetites." He chuckled. "Then Father would quip growing boys were like manticores who'd not eaten in a year, and that they wouldn't have risked begetting three sons two years apart if the duchy couldn't afford it."

  Selena's mouth twitched. "I didn't realize boys ate so much." She tilted her head then patted the bed beside her. "Shall we play cards?"

  He stiffened as hunger flooded him. He couldn't risk sitting so close, not when he burned to kiss her. "I'd rather see your latest sketches instead."

  Selena blushed. "They're nothing compared to the art in that book you gave me, but very well." She opened her journal to a vivid sketch of a mountain lake.

  After she showed him her sketches, all striking despite her modesty, he forced himself to rise. "I should go, but I'll return tomorrow."

  Selena sighed as she walked him to the door. "Very well. Any word on the black witch or my uncle?"

  Aragon grimaced. "No. I'll write Devon's people tonight demanding an update and share what they respond tomorrow." He forced a smile then left before his resistance crumbled and he kissed her.

  As soon as he returned home, he wrote Devon's people, and Perkins handed him their reply late the following morning. At last. Aragon tore open the note. His pulse surged as he read—they'd finally located the black witch. Thank the Goddess, he could bring Selena home soon.

  But first, the black witch must be captured, and to do that, someone must lure him out. Aragon set his jaw. The heir of a wealthy duke would be too tempting to resist, so he'd confront the black witch himself.

  He scowled at the note. But where could he meet the black witch? Not home. Too dangerous and might cause rumors. Perhaps The Gold Griffin. No one would notice him since he was a frequent visitor, and the black witch would resemble the other patrons.

  He wrote back to Devon's people asking them to arrange a meeting at the tavern. Then he wrote to Lord Islaye requesting magic marshals to capture the black witch.

  Grinning, he bounded down to the kitchen and begged Cook for a karamel nut sweetice in a cold basket. He and Selena could share it to celebrate the black witch's imminent capture. Once the dessert was ready, Aragon galloped to the brothel to visit Selena even though 'twas before noon.

  Chapter 11

  When Aragon pounded on her door before luncheon, Selena dropped her sketch journal with a gasp. Why was he here so early? Was something wrong? She jerked open the door. "Aragon, by the Goddess! You startled me."

  A basket on his arm, Aragon winced as he strode inside. "Sorry, I was eager to see you."

  Her stomach fluttered while she locked the door behind him. Because he'd missed her like she missed him? She leaned toward him. Perhaps he would kiss her again then. "Why?"

  Grinning, Aragon dropped in his chair across the room and set the basket at his feet. "Devon's people have unearthed the black witch. They're arranging a meeting at The Gold Griffin, so magic marshals can capture him."

  Selena swallowed as she curled on the bed, fingering the gold gargoyle he'd given her. Did he mean to confront the black witch himself? Dear Goddess. "A meeting with you?"

  Aragon chuckled and nodded. "Of course. What better bait to lure him out?"

  She shivered then leaned forward with a frown. "Be careful. He's vicious." Her throat constricted. And she couldn't bear if harm befell Aragon, especially because of her.

  Aragon leapt and sat beside her to squeeze her hand. "I know, but we'll be in public, and I'll have magic marshals to protect me."

  Tingling darted up her arm as she threaded her fingers through his. Hopefully, 'twould be enough. She managed a smile. "Thanks again for doing all this for me."

  His dark-umber eyes flickering, Aragon squeezed her hand again then slid his free. "I'm glad to help such a brave lady." He sighed. "Although after this morning, I must avoid the brothel until the black witch is captured. I can't risk leading him to you."

  Her ribs clenched. Please let his meeting with the black witch be soon and go smoothly. "I understand."

  Aragon grimaced with a sigh. "But I'll risk sending a note once I learn when the meeting is set, so you know our plans." He glanced down and frowned. "I hope my abrupt arrival didn't mar your sketch."

  Selena blinked at the sketch journal splayed between them. "Probably not. I'd just finished it." But a visit from him was worth marring any sketch. She turned over the sketch journal then smoothed her last page. "See, 'tis fine."

  Aragon gaped at her sketch of a hawk flying over mountains. "Exquisite again." He hesitated then asked, "Could I have it?"

  A blush burned her cheeks. He wanted another of her simple sketches? How flattering. "If you like."

  She tore out the sketch, and Aragon slipped it inside his coat. Then he grinned at her and strode to his chair to retrieve his basket. "Before I go, I brought a treat to celebrate the black witch's imminent capture."

  Her heart fluttering, Selena leaned forward as he set the basket between them on the bed. Although his visits were brief, his wonderful gifts more than offset that. He must feel more than charity for her. Her mouth watered when he opened the basket with a flourish. "Is that karamel nut sweetice?"

  Aragon flashed a grin and handed her a spoon. "Yes, although we must share because I couldn't explain to Cook why I wanted two bowls. The cold basket and two spoons were hard enough."

  She winked at him. "I don't mind sharing, although you'd better hurry if you want any." She ate her first spoonful, closing her eyes and almost purring when the sweet and creamy dessert melted on her tongue. Goddess, so good. She opened her eyes with a shrug. "I devour karamel nut sweetice faster than a starving sprite."

  Aragon eyed her mouth, his body still. "So I see." He swallowed then ate some sweetice. "We must alternate spoonfuls then."

  Selena shivered as tingling warmth suffused her. Was he eyeing her mouth because he wanted to kiss her or because her gluttony repelled him? She gulped her second spoonful with another hum, and he stilled again, his gaze hungry. Her chest lightened. He wanted to kiss her.

  They devoured the sweetice, desire burgeoning with each spoonful. Heat coursing through her veins, she leaned toward him as she set her spoon down. Surely, he'd kiss her now.

  Yet Aragon jerked back, his gaze skittering away. "I must be off." He snatched the cold basket then bolted from the room.

  Selena drooped on the bed, her heart clenching. Like before, almost kissing her had embarrassed him. He'd not have fled otherwise. If they'd fallen in love within moments of meeting, he'd not shun kissing her.

  She must stop attempting to kiss him, even though his kindness enchanted her. Despite that enthralling kiss when they'd met and his flashes of interest, he always withdrew and kept directing her to other gentlemen. He mustn't want her as more than a friend. She rubbed her aching chest.

  The following afternoon, she received a note from Aragon informing her his meeting with the black witch was set for luncheon in two days. Her hands trembling, she crumpled his note in her fist. Goddess, let him remain safe.

  * * *

  While waiting for Aragon to return, Selena sketched madly to calm herself. Yet her nerves continually worsened. By the afternoon before his meeting with the black witch, she could barely eat, and her hand ached from sketching so much.

  So consumed with distracting herself from Aragon's upcoming meeting, she sketched until early evening without fetching food from the kitchen. She only stopped sketching when her hand could no longer hold a pencil.

  Tears burning her e
yes, she rubbed her cramped hand as her stomach rumbled. Although she'd not left her room during evenings to avoid the brothel's patrons, she must risk fetching dinner tonight. She'd be too hungry to sleep otherwise. At least she'd have dessert, although 'twouldn't compare to the karamel nut sweetice Aragon had brought.

  She slipped down the back stairs to the kitchen and gathered enough fish stew, black bread, and bread pudding to last through luncheon tomorrow. After that, Aragon would come to take her away—if he captured the black witch. She swallowed.

  Selena was about to enter the hall leading to her room when she halted at the bored drawl of the blonde who occupied the room across from hers. Her mouth dried. She must wait here until the girl and her patron left the hall.

  The blonde snorted. "Sure, you can call me Isabel. You're payin'."

  Selena tensed. Isabel had been Mother's name. She peeked into the hall then jerked back, spots flashing before her eyes. Oh, Goddess! Uncle Adan was the blonde's patron. If she misstepped, he'd discover her, and all of Aragon's plans would become worthless.

  She shivered as Uncle Adan said, "I want you to resist too."

  The blonde heaved a sigh. "I can a bit, but ropes or force costs extra. Madam Lorelei's rules."

  Uncle Adan snickered. "Extra is fine."

  The blonde's voice faded, "Let's go settle that with Madam Lorelei." The girl must be leading Uncle Adan back down the front stairs.

  Her heart pounding, Selena waited several long moments to ensure they'd left before bolting to her room. She locked her door, her hand trembling so hard she almost couldn't set the lock. Then she dropped her food on the bed and collapsed. Goddess, she'd barely escaped.

  She dug out Aragon's communication mirror from beneath the bed. Should she call him? She caressed the mirror with a sigh. No, Uncle Adan hadn't seen her, so she was safe enough. And if she called Aragon, he'd rush to the brothel, which Uncle Adan might notice. Aragon storming a nearby brothel would appear suspicious to the black witch when they'd a meeting tomorrow. The black witch might flee or prepare a trap for Aragon.

  She shuddered and slid the communication mirror beneath her pillow. With all the magical protection Aragon had provided, she'd be fine as long as Uncle Adan didn't realize she was at the brothel. Which he wouldn't if she remained hidden. Madam Lorelei would doubtless recognize him as her uncle, but she'd never betray Aragon or his gold for a poor gentleman like Uncle Adan. No, the madam would collect her extra payment from him without mentioning his niece was across the hall.

  Selena grimaced. Though she couldn't bear to imagine why Uncle Adan was paying extra. Whatever he intended, he was pretending the blonde across the hall was Mother. Her stomach heaved.

  When her pulse finally slowed and nausea faded, she forced herself to eat, even though her appetite had fled. Afterward, since her hand still ached too much to sketch, she paced the room with the gold gargoyle clenched in her other hand. To soothe herself, she sniffed the vial of lymon balm scent she and Mother had made. Thank the Goddess she was leaving the brothel tomorrow.

  Unable to settle, she crawled beneath the covers early but thrashed most of the night rather than sleeping, so she didn't wake until almost luncheon. Selena rubbed her face then ate all the food she had left. No reason to save it now.

  Then she donned her nicest dress, a dusty-pink linen she'd sewn with Aragon's mother in mind. Her neck prickling, she smoothed her dress. She couldn't match a wealthy duchess, but she mustn't appear shabby. Her presentation relied on the duchess's good opinion. And finding a husband to permanently escape her uncle relied on her presentation.

  Once dressed, she gathered her few possessions, most gifts from Aragon, into a small bag. She caressed the leather covers of the three books as she set them on her few gowns and the gold she'd bargained back from Madam Lorelei. Each book was perfect for different reasons. Then she tucked the cards, dagger, and communication mirror beside them before adding all but her current sketch journal. She'd sketched so much during her sojourn at the brothel that she'd filled the first one, and her current was two-thirds full. The enchanted pencils would have been worn away if they didn't replenish themselves.

  Ready to leave, Selena curled on the bed and began sketching. As time trickled by, her breath accelerated, and her aching hand trembled over the page. Goddess, when would Aragon arrive? Had something gone awry? She shivered. Had the black witch eluded capture? Had the black witch cursed Aragon? Please let Aragon remain unscathed today. Please.

  Chapter 12

  An hour before his meeting with the black witch, Aragon yanked on the plainest clothes he owned. Although a regular at The Gold Griffin, he wanted to remain inconspicuous during their meeting, so no rumors about him and a black witch started.

  Then he rode to Mermaid Street, keeping to a trot despite his swift pulse. He left his bay mare at the stables and strode to the tavern. Were the magic marshals already waiting to capture the black witch?

  When he'd returned from visiting Selena three days ago, Lord Islaye had replied to his note about the black witch and requested a meeting that afternoon. The count had introduced Aragon to one of his most powerful magic marshals, Master Marshal Thurston. Then the three men had planned how to capture the black witch during the meeting Devon's people were arranging at the tavern.

  Once that meeting was set the following day, Aragon had written to Selena updating her then acted assuming the black witch was spying. Nothing must forewarn the black witch and cause him to flee. Aragon had forced himself to attend court events and never mention Selena, not even when his parents or Devon asked about her.

  So as he strode past the brothel on his way to The Gold Griffin, he ignored the nondescript building. If the black witch realized Selena was there, he might send someone to kidnap her during their meeting. And Aragon couldn't risk that.

  Like usual, he nodded at the porter as he entered the tavern, but instead of greeting Micah at the bar, he sat at a table along the back wall. He beckoned the barmaid and ordered, studying the tavern with feigned disinterest.

  He muffled a sigh when he spotted Thurston at the bar. Dressed in sailor's clothes, the master marshal and three other pretend sailors were accepting glowing tankards from Micah. Then they drifted to tables on either side of Aragon to capture the black witch. Hopefully, he'd arrive soon. Feigning disinterest was too difficult to maintain for long.

  Fortunately, a lanky man with dark hair, scraggly beard, and pallid skin slinked inside the tavern just as the plump barmaid slammed a fish pie and two glowing tankards before Aragon. Tingling surged in his chest. The black witch had arrived, and soon Selena would be safe.

  Aragon focused on his fish pie as the black witch glanced about the tavern then sidled toward him. Revealing recognition might spook the black witch. His fingers clenched on his fork. He couldn't allow the black witch to escape now.

  When the black witch coughed beside him, Aragon waved to the opposite seat despite his tense stomach. Finally. "Sit. Have a drink."

  The black witch sat but grimaced at the glowing tankard before him. "No drink for me, my lord."

  Aragon arched a brow. "I insist." Sipping his own tankard, he tailored his words to remain truthful, "Dealings with unknowns fare better when honesty is assured." Plus, Thurston had said the ale's magic should prevent the black witch from noticing any listening spells.

  The black witch grimaced again but drank from his glowing tankard. "I suppose so. Your people said you wished to hire me?"

  Aragon savored a bite of fish pie with a mendacious smirk. He must mimic the black witch's usual patrons to lure the black witch into revealing the truth. So he drawled, "I heard you excel at extracting thorns."

  The black witch echoed his smirk. "I do, but only if my fee is met. And you mustn't care how I extract that thorn."

  Fire flared through Aragon. Miscreant. Maintaining his smirk, he forced himself to sip his glowing tankard. "I can afford any fee you set. I simply want my thorn removed. What do you propose?"

&n
bsp; The black witch shrugged. "That depends on the situation. I'll need more details."

  Aragon shook his head. "And I need more details before I trust you with mine." The magic marshals couldn't apprehend the black witch until he incriminated himself. "Prove your reputation is real first. Describe some of your recent undertakings."

  The black witch's eyes narrowed and flicked to Aragon's glowing tankard. "Fine. But no names."

  A zing darting through his chest, Aragon waved for the black witch to continue. The magic marshals could extract names from the black witch after they captured him.

  The black witch smoothed his scraggly beard. "Recently, I cursed a mirror to accent ugliness for a cosmetics shop."

  Aragon's breath stilled. Wicked, but hardly damning. A regular witch with shadowy morals might do as much. He snorted to provoke the black witch into confessing more.

  The black witch blurted, "And I aided thieves sneak inside a stronghold to steal a baby for ransom."

  Aragon snorted again. Again, not enough to prove him a black witch. They needed a confession about performing an evil spell, preferably a fatal one.

  The black witch gulped his glowing ale. "And last year for the heirs of a wealthy woman, I fed her cats fish laced with faedust and mercury so they went mad and killed her."

  Energy surged through Aragon as Thurston slammed down his tankard and bawled, "I need some tripe." Tripe was the code indicating the master marshal had heard enough for his people to search the black witch's quarters for additional evidence.

  Ignoring Thurston, the black witch leaned toward Aragon. "So how would you like me to extract your thorn, Lord Treyvan?"

  After washing down a bite of fish pie with glowing ale, Aragon drew a deep breath. He could abandon the pretense of wanting the black witch's services. "By confessing your crimes before magic marshals."

  The black witch's eyes bulged, and he leapt from his seat right into Thurston's arms.

  His tension easing, Aragon continued eating as the magic marshals barked binding spells to seal the black witch's powers. The miscreant could no longer harm Selena, or anyone else, again. "Well done, marshals."