The Vampire & Her Witch

The realization that she was about to lose Captain Albyn’s protection settled over her like a heavy, wet cloak, suffocating her with an oppressive, bone-chilling cold. She’d underestimated Owain, she realized.

She’d never once imagined that he would go this far just to remove one of the pillars she’d come to rely on for support in Lothian March. Now, she felt utterly helpless, able to see the snare, to understand its mechanism perfectly, and to have no choice but to step into it anyway because every other option was worse.

”No, I... I have no doubts,” Jocelynn said carefully, her voice barely wavering despite the tightness in her chest. She stepped directly into Owain’s trap, and she hated herself for doing so even as she understood there had never been any alternative.

”It’s settled then,” Owain said with a wide smile as he recaptured the initiative in their conversation. ”I’ll announce his elevation as part of the coronation ceremony along with the rest of my first decrees,” he said. ”After the coronation, he can relieve Sir Elgon in Hurel and see to the rebuilding of a lord’s manor in the village.”

Jocelynn’s fingers had gone cold despite the warmth of the candle-lit room, and she curled them into her lap beneath the table where Owain couldn’t see the way they trembled. She took a small bite of the fish, Sweet Scales of the Sea, Ashlynn’s favorite, and forced herself to chew and swallow even though her throat had tightened to the point where she was barely able to swallow.

She wished, more than anything, that her sister was here with her now, or that she possessed a fraction of Ashlynn’s gift with words to talk her way out of this, but with Owain sitting within arm’s reach of her, it was difficult to think about anything beyond what he might do if she didn’t have a strong protector at her side.

After all, he’d already demonstrated in more ways than one just how capable of violence he was. And, more than that, he’d demonstrated that not even a wedding ring on her finger would keep her safe from him if he felt like she’d betrayed him...

”It will be good to have Sir Elgon back in Lothian,” Jocelynn said, struggling to keep her voice light and hopeful even as her heart hammered against her ribs with enough force that she feared Owain might see the pulse jumping at her throat. Her fingers found the edge of her napkin beneath the table and twisted the fabric methodically, a small outlet for the anxiety she couldn’t allow to show on her face.

”As you said,” Jocelynn added, hoping to gain some ground by flattering him with praise for the wisdom of his words. ”Captain Albyn isn’t skilled at fighting in armor. If demons ever find a way to attack Lothian Manor once you’re on the front lines of the war, it will be reassuring to have Sir Elgon at my side.”

”No, that won’t do,” Owain said, shaking his head and pushing the salad to the side as he turned to the soup in hopes that at least part of the meal wouldn’t have a sweet element that clearly catered to girlish tastes. ”Sir Elgon can remain at your side for a month or two, but he’s still in the prime of his fighting years, and I’ll need him at my side when the fighting begins in spring or summer.”

The breath Jocelynn had been holding escaped in a barely audible sigh that she immediately tried to disguise as a thoughtful hum. Her hands, still hidden beneath the table, had clenched into fists so tight that her nails bit crescents into her palms; a sharp, grounding pain that kept the rising panic from showing on her face.

She was losing them both. Albyn to Hurel, Elgon to the front lines, and there was nothing she could do to stop it, because if protesting awarding Hurel Village to Albyn would have been incredibly difficult, denying Owain the right to take a skilled knight with him to the front lines of the war against the demons was even more impossible.

”Sir Gilander served my father well for many years, but he’s earned a retirement from the front lines,” Owain continued, frowning slightly at the soup that carried only a mild hint of spice rather than the intense heat he would have preferred in a spicy dish. ”It isn’t that Gilander can’t keep you safe,” Owain added before Jocelynn could use his age as a reason to protest. ”He can easily protect you from any threat within the castle walls, and he’s a good, loyal man.”

Gilander was also a man who knew the value of following orders, even when he didn’t understand them. Jocelynn had already demonstrated a willingness to plan an escape from Lothian City in order to evade the mad Marquis, Bors. While Owain could forgive that, he couldn’t easily forgive the fact that her plans involved gathering supplies for a long journey of some sort.

Thankfully, it hadn’t come to that because of Albyn’s decision to seek help from Owain, but it should have been Jocelynn who went running to the arms of her soon-to-be husband. That her escape plans to evade Bors and the Inquisition would also take her away from him wasn’t something that Owain had failed to notice... Nor was it something he could allow to continue now that he’d become aware of it.

Jocelynn was frightened, like a skittish mare, and she was ready to bolt if anything further spooked her. And from the look of things, Albyn and Sir Elgon were standing ready to open the gate for her to run wherever her silly head wanted to take her.

Owain had dealt with skittish horses before. They took patience and skill to break, along with a strong pen that they couldn’t escape. He shouldn’t have had any reason to worry about Jocelynn running away from him, but because of Percivus, he needed to take extra precautions, starting with the removal of any man who might help her run.

But of course, removing Albyn and Sir Elgon wouldn’t be enough to bind Jocelynn to his side once again. To make sure that she didn’t run once Owain turned his attention to the important matters of the war against the demons.

He would need other things to keep her bound to him, and for that, he had other plans.