Page 132 of Season Warriors & Wolves

“This is impossible,” Drystan repeated, looking at his Dark Crafter whose eyes had shot wide at what she’d seen.

Finally, the witch met our eyes briefly, terror skittering through the vivid blue of her irises before she nodded at Drystan. “Times…have changed, my king.”

“Indeed,” Snow said, smiling at her, a silent threat behind it. Someone as skilled as this witch would understand that there was a bargain made between death and life when the potion was consumed—one at the expense of more than just the soul. Would we live long enough to witness it?

The Dark Crafter heeded to the threat because she said nothing else.

“You would sell this to us?” one of the princes asked.

Snow sneered. “Yes.”

His hand shook, lifting the empty vial up to inspect what little was left in it. A moment of absolute madness, almost cathartic, flashed through his cloud of emotion before faltering to intense desire. “For what price? What price could buy this…miracle?”

Snow must have felt something because she reached to link her fingers with mine. “Loyalty.”

All four of the unblessed rulers looked at each other. “That is a broad expense.”

“Of any kind, from now until Isjord is no longer in the hands of my father.”

“Are you asking us to join your war?”

“You would’ve been made to join Silas’s,” I said. “For little to nothing in exchange of more than your lives. Believe me, that death would have been short of nothing but agony. Here and beyond. Whether our gods are cruel or not.”

Snow leaned forward. “A dose a month for a hundred of you.”

“For how long?” Drystan asked, rubbing a shaky hand to his knee.

Her fingers tightened over mine. “Until my witch can figure out how to make it permanent. She happens to work quicker and grows inspired by those that hold their word. Not a ship. Not one weapon. A single piece of wood or coal or horse. Nothing. If I see your ships cross the Mahara channel, they better be at my order, or they will sink by my order.”

“And if we disagree?” one of the princes asked.

This was indeed tiring. “If I must kill an entire kingdom in order to prevent my enemy from receiving their help, then I will simply do so. Between lunch and dinner is plenty of time actually. Might even be able to squeeze some quality time with my family there, too.”

The Breshall Prince almost jumped in his seat. “Is that a threat of war?”

“No. It is a pesky chore I really do not want to do. But if I don’t do it, my wife here will do it, and I am not the type of husband who lets his wife concern herself with chores. Unless the said chore takes care of itself.”

“It will be discussed.”

“It will be decided. Right now,” I said, kissing Snow’s temple, letting her sweet scent soothe my nerves that were being tested like a battle horse today.

“It is a deal,” Drystan said after the princes gave him some shaky confirming nods. “You have the metal and our loyalty in exchange for the potion.”

“There is one other thing,” Snow said. “I’m interested in finding someone’s bloodline here in your lands. You might have heard of him, they called him the son of seas. Vas, son of Zoltan, born on Norodoh.”

“You mean Vas Hutlenn?” Drystan laughed. “He is but a legend, I’m afraid. Sailors sing of him to encourage themselves in the harsh seas. He was said to have slayed monsters, and you know there are no monsters in our seas.”

“Why does he interest you?” the Breshall Prince asked.

“I came across the name in something I was reading, and I wish to quell my curiosity on the matter since I’m already in your lands and the odds are very little for my return,” she easily lied and they so easily bought it, their egos overfed on my wife’s interest.

We left the Vrammetheni castle with a deal and no wounded or bleeding, though my wife’s eyes had pleaded with me several times during the visit.

A smile slipped over my lips when I heard a slight rumble coming from her stomach. “Hungry, my love?”

“A little.” She glanced at me through the corner of her eye. “That was very king-like.”

“I am a king, my woman.”