poisoned blades 11
The Offering
“Wake up, Mistress Windfire!” Alice, a chambermaid shook the witch franticly.
Windfire’s pale eyes fluttered open. “W-what is it, Alice?”
“Master Nightshade is here…”
“W-what?” Windfire’s eyes widened.
“He said that he is looking forward to seeing you and he spoke something French that I didn’t quite catch…” Alice said thoughtfully.
“Do you remember what it was?”
“Belle…or something of the sort…” Alice whispered.
“That means beauty…” Windfire blushed.
“Not if you meet him in your nightgown! He’s fancied up entirely. Your mother and his father are too! She told me to make sure you were dressed…” Alice explained, rushing Windfire to her feet.
Windfire let the chambermaid dress her in a dress that clung everywhere on her. It was red with silver lining, obviously intended to refer to the coven. She didn’t care for getting her hair fancied up in a bun, but she let her maid brush the knots from her hair.
Windfire started down the stairs, grasping tightly onto her dress’ frills as she walked gracefully down the stairs, her eyes on Nightshade who looked handsome and dressy as Alice had promised. He mouthed something, but she wasn’t quite sure what it was. “Bon matin, monsieur…”
“It’s a good morning, now!” Nightshade blushed and bowed.
Windfire blushed and accepted his gesture of kissing her hand and meeting her eyes. “What do you say we take this to the dining hall?” Crystalwind shuddered at the love she could already foresee blossoming.
“Yes, let’s…” Lucithet joined her in disgust.
Lucithet studied his son and the young witch. He wasn’t interested in their flirting, but he was intrigued by how easily they faked interest in one another—if they were even faking at all. “You seem quite taken by the countess’ daughter,” Lucithet commented.
“Oh, how could I not be?” Nightshade asked.
“She is very charming and pleasant, it’s hard to resist such a woman,” Lucithet agreed.
“Merci beaucoup,” Windfire blushed, glancing down in chagrin.
“Everything is to your liking, Count Lucithet?” Crystalwind asked. She faked a pleasant smile. I would kill you myself if I didn’t know that your servants know where you are… she thought bitterly as she poured herself more tea.
“As always you are a welcoming and outstanding hostess, countess,” Lucithet kissed the older woman’s hand and smiled when he made her blush. He choked back the urge to gag.
“Ah, merci, my lord,” Crystalwind smiled, biting back her urge to flip the table and send a bolt of lightning down the count’s throat.
“Windfire, I’ve been pussyfooting for too long, now,” Nightshade started, “That is because I’ve enjoyed our visit, but I feel the need to be direct about my…proposition…”
“Yes, my lord?” Windfire inquired.
“Windfire, it’s no secret to us that the other is equal in battle with weapon and magic,” he found himself keeping eye contact with her, “As are our entire families…”
“Yes, your warlocks are as formidable as our witches,” Windfire agreed.
“Then why not direct our power to where it needs to be directed?” Nightshade asked and Windfire looked interested. “Why not use it to rule? I know that we could overthrow the crown and do away with their religious wars.”
“You’re right. We could,” Windfire whispered.
“Marry me and bring the two most powerful families together. Marry me and be my queen,” he blushed, but if his father were to ask he’d reason his embarrassment to her looks.
Windfire gasped and looked toward her mother who was actually surprised. “I…this is sudden…” she stammered.
“We’ll end our meaningless war and start one that is worthwhile,” Nightshade added.
“You are right,” Windfire commented.
“Windfire, are you sure?” Crystalwind cut in.
“Mother, do you not agree with lord Nightshade?” Windfire asked, giving her mother a sly grin.
“I do agree,” Crystalwind nodded once. “I was merely going to say that you have a say in your husband.”
“And lord Nightshade gave me a favorable choice,” Windfire whispered.
Lucithet was still observing the young witch—who was cut twice. There was no passing holiday for witches and warlocks as of late. Any cuts for the goddess should have been healed by now, and witches only cut their palms once for a ceremony. That witch was up to something. “Well, if it’s decided, I’ll make arrangements with the church for the wedding.”
“Did you know of your son’s intentions upon coming here?” Crystalwind asked.
Lucithet shifted his weight, “Yes, I did.”
“Do you agree with this? You know it would mean a treaty for both covens, don’t you?” Crystalwind asked.
“I know it would. And it might be overdue,” Lucithet commented.
“It is decided, lord Lucithet,” Windfire assured the older man.
“Excellent,” Lucithet smiled. From the looks of the young witch he could tell that his son would grow soft. The pretty ones can do that to even the most evil man.
“How soon should we plan the wedding?” Crystalwind asked, more eager for the unholy union since her future son-in-law had given her an idea.
“Uh, I don’t know,” Nightshade stammered.
Crystalwind eyed the boy carefully. He has feelings for Windfire. He has an obvious weakness, then. “Well, do you think there is a too soon when it comes to a rise to power?
“Of course not,” Windfire answered.
Lucithet’s eyes widened. He was an observant man, quite keen to detail and there was a detail that he couldn’t mistake as anything else glaring at him. Windfire and Nightshade had twined their fingers. He looked away before they could notice his discovering of their secret. “Then I’ll plan the wedding for tonight,” Lucithet suggested.
“That sounds perfect,” Crystalwind said happily.
“I suppose everything is in order then,” Nightshade whispered, caressing Windfire’s hand.
Windfire nodded, returning the subtle affection, “That it does.”
Lucithet calmed his rage. His son lied to him. He hadn’t offered anything to the god. The girl was clearly cut by the same weapon! He’d bet it was his son’s sword, not an athane. He wouldn’t carry one on him. The more he observed the young casters, the more it had become clear been together before. His other sons probably knew when and where, too. He’d have to interrogate them…maybe his nephews as well.
“What time do you think, Lucithet?” Crystalwind asked.
“Eight O’clock tonight?” he offered.
“I’ll have your son’s bride ready before then,” Crystalwind promised.
“Speaking of readying, we should be going, Nightshade. You have to be prepared yourself,” Lucithet said as he stood.
Nightshade stood after his father. “Thank you for having us, countess,” he bowed to Crystalwind, “Windfire,” he kissed her hand.
“Thank you for coming,” Crystalwind said with a smile as she watched the two warlocks depart. She turned to her daughter, “How could you stand to have him kiss your hand?”
“He’s quite handsome. I can hide my disgust if I keep that in mind,” Windfire lied. She melted each time Nightshade touched her.
“He gets his looks honestly,” Crystalwind commented.
“Do Lucithet’s good looks make it easier to deal with him acting proper?” Windfire asked slyly.
“Looks are the only thing he’s got going for him,” Crystalwind muttered.
“Same for my fiancé,” Windfire breathed.
“You’re as ruthless as a Deverill should be,” Crystalwind said with a wry smile.
“Merci,” Windfire smiled.
“You know that Nightshade has feelings for you, right?”
“It’s not just me, then,” Windfire crossed her arms over her chest.
“No, it’s obvious. It pisses of Lucithet, too,” Crystalwind snickered.
“Good, there’ll be more pain for the warlock when I cut his throat when his own sword,” Windfire smirked.
Crystalwind could have applauded her daughter. She was about to speak but her husband Pierre walked into the room. “Yes, my love?” Crystalwind asked.
Pierre looked between his wife and his oldest daughter. “I was wondering what our enemies were doing here and leaving unharmed.”
“I’m marrying Nightshade so we can kill off his family more easily,” Windfire explained.
“Oh, this is quite a development,” Pierre whispered. “When is the wedding?”
“Tonight at eight,” Windfire said as she excused herself from the table. “I’m going to wash up,” she said as she left the room.
“Could you tell that the witch likes you?” Lucithet asked his son.
Nightshade nodded, “She’ll be all the more distraught when I kill her family before her eyes one by one and then kill her,” he clenched his fist with a dark, eager enthusiasm.
“You truly are my son,” Lucithet declared with pride.
“I learned from the best,” Nightshade knew his father would fall to flattery. “Although it’s a pity that mother died from such a sickness,” he winked at his father who smirked.
“You knew?”
“The witch deserved it for thinking she could deceive you,” Nightshade said harshly.
“You might want to keep Windfire around for a little bit,” Lucithet said thoughtfully.
“Why is that?”
“You’ve managed to find yourself a beautiful bride. Keep her while she’s still beautiful,” Lucithet grinned.
“Her looks are the only thing that would make me keep her around,” he lied. “I’m a warlock. Getting women is so mundane,” Nightshade said haughtily.
“If you’ve seen her mother, you know that might be a while,” Lucithet murmured.
“Unfortunately,” Nightshade frowned.

poisoned blades 13