Page 54 of The Bear King’s Bride

“Why are you out in the human settlements of Caledon making sly deals if you should be back in Wyndwood?” a voice rasped.

Jocasta turned and bolted to the figure in the shadows. “Girion! I told you to rest!” she cried.

“I didn’t want to. I remembered something,” Girion whispered, voice hoarse, face gaunt as he stepped into the light, trailed by a furious Cole. “When I danced with Lady Renata, I mentioned I wanted to wed you because you knew the meaning of the word work. And she said you stank of fish guts.”

Jocasta looked horrified.

“You didn’t. If you had, that wouldn’t have mattered. Polar Bear shifters love fish, guts, bones, and all,” Girion came to stand beside her, putting his arm around her waist, clinging to her as she clung to him. “But I remembered at the time wondering how she knew that you ran a fishing boat, that you worked in your parents’ shop. No one knew you were in the palace but the men I trusted, faithful guards and servants. Even if you were known to be from one of the settlements outside of Frost Hills and Alban Leigh, why would she assume you, dressed like a princess, were a fishmonger’s daughter? Unless,” Girion turned his gaze to the Fox in the cell, “unless they already knew about you.”

The Fox held up his hands. “It wasn’t my idea! The Archduke wanted any mages who were potential queens to be driven out of the area. There are a few mages here and there, but they’re older, men, or married. Nothing you’d want, sire. And I’m sorry about the throat. You know what they say about cornered animals, heh.” He gave a nervous laugh.

“Be driven out of the area?”

“Forced to leave Wylding and search for the human world or, at least, the warmer kingdoms. If Lady Renata was King Girion’s only choice, they counted on him to take it to save Caledon. And then Reynard would have his paw in the pots of two kingdoms, uncle to the Prince of Wyndwood, father-in-law to the King of Caledon. Lady Renata is as much his pawn as he is hers. They wanted this marriage ruined, too. Anti-human sentiment stirred up, the marriage called a sham, a token to appease the minorities... I just collected the money. I never hurt anyone. I never did anything but listen.”

“And run your mouth. And bite.” Girion looked at Jocasta. “I heard you scream.”

“Fire comes from a place in your soul. At least, that’s where it comes from with me. Pure pain. Agony.” She wiped her eyes and showed him her blackened palms. “He almost took you from me,” she whispered.

“But you wouldn’t allow that. What is your proper name, Fox?”

“Leo Reynard.”

“Will you testify before a magistrate about the Archduke’s machinations?”

“If that means what he wanted to happen, then yes. Provided I’m allowed to live to do so.”

“After your testimony is given, you will be banished. So will Reynard, his wife, and children. If any of you ever set foot in Caledon again, the punishment will be death.”

The Fox gulped, then nodded. “I don’t much care for Caledon, anyway, if it’s all the same to you.”

“It’s very convenient to us. Cole. Herrick. Take him to the prison and have him brought on charges of treason and attempted murder. Find a magistrate who can meet us next week. Have the Minister of Justice, what is his name...”

“Fernhart,” Cole supplied.

“Have Fernhart arrange everything for next week.”

“Next week? Sire, I’m sure with how dire this matter is, it can happen tonight!”

“I’m injured. Severely. I need to rest.” Girion winked at the two men and guided Jocasta away. “A week is what we need, minimum.”

Chapter Fifteen

“Your parents and Cole’s parents are in the palace, running things. Mainly answering correspondence and taking shipments, directing delegations. That sort of thing.”

Jocasta clung to Girion’s hand as they walked underground in stone passageways that seemed to go on for miles. He had to stoop, while she could walk comfortably, one hand holding a torch aloft while he pushed a small trolley of provisions.

“You shouldn’t be exerting yourself like this.”

“When we arrive, I intend to exert myself a great deal more.”

“Two days of recuperation are not enough,” Jocasta protested.

“Is that the Stinking Eel tone? Your mother told me about that.”

Jocasta sighed. “You seem to be immune to it.”

“I’m just excited to take my bride to my secret hideaway. On the other side of the trees, beyond the pond, there’s a little lodge. Trees guard it so thickly that you cannot see it unless you’re in the woods with it.”