Chapter 40: Stewing Storms (Patreon)

*Annika’s afternoon following the kiss* 

She stood on the other side of the garden door for a moment trying to make sense of the jumble of emotions inside herself to gain better control of her face. 

Anger Annika was familiar with. Anger could fuel her task at hand in the downpour…

But there was another… an ache in her chest, an almost painful rasp that clawed its way up to her throat… 

Sadness and grief. 

‘Abso-bloody-not!’  Annika’s hands curled into fists as she cursed herself mentally and began to step down the garden path. ‘Some man is going to turn me into a simpering idiot? I’d rather tie myself to a Troivackian ship and be dragged back than become something so pitiful.’

As she stomped her way towards the forest, thoroughly furious and refusing to be  ‘heartbroken’, she was able to ignore the pain in her side. Her resolve was teeming with the indignation that she could ever be broken up over a bloody cook who was a weak, stubborn, insufferable, a good kisser-

‘Godsdamnit.’ Annika couldn’t help but think to herself as she reached the perimeter of the woods and listened intently. Nothing but the sound of pounding rain and thunder reached her ears, and so she ventured into its shadowy depths carefully.

‘I just had to kiss him. Just haaaaad to go being all… vulnerable and gross. Godsdamnit Hank, I blame this on you thoroughly!’ She snapped out towards her deceased husband.

‘Before you, I never would’ve succumbed to such vomit worthy scenes or emotions. Hell- I never would’ve been interested in him!’ 

The memory of Fin’s caring protectiveness when Hannah stood up to the King flashed through her mind’s eye. 

His facing off against Captain Antonio when he had that look of calm steely resolve that hinted at control over a great power…

His drunken kiss sending every piece of her humming with electricity and life.

‘GODSDAMNIT!’

Without even having to think about what she was doing, Annika immediately moved between thick trees stealthily and silently. She had been forced from her horse during the attack, and so guessed that her attackers would more than likely return to the scene trying to surprise her as she retrieved her steed. 

Slowly, as the Lady pushed through soggy ferns and brush, she heard the voices of two men in discussion. 

“-can’t be in the maze, we would’ve found her.” 

Annika could spy the Troivackian duo from her current location. She stilled immediately, the maple tree under her hands was easily wide enough to hide her figure.

“Do you think she had help?” The shorter of the men had his back to her and was speaking while clutching her horse’s reins in his hand. Fortunately, both of the men had failed to notice the horse’s ears twitching in her direction. 

“It’s possible. I still cannot believe that the ‘Dragon’, was actually a woman. No wonder Daxaria is proving to be so easy to conquer.” The taller of the men looked well groomed, but was very clearly a Troivackian peasant- though if he were here with Annika’s brother, he had to at least be in the military. He had a short black beard, a receding hairline, but perfectly white teeth. His clothes were tough to distinguish in the rain, but there wasn’t any sign of finery on him. 

 “She did take out Zern, Nathan, and Davies though.” The shorter man Annika couldn’t see, but his odd accent when he spoke indicated he was of the peasantry class. 

“Aye well… didn’t know she had a second knife with her.” He shrugged. 

Annika turned her attention to her horse and eyed her compact crossbow strapped on the beast’s left side.

Too risky. 

Annika knew that while she was a keen shot with a bow, and a good arm with a knife, she only had one knife left. 

Then again she also had enough rage to throttle fifty men as the feeling of Fin’s lips remained imprinted on her mouth. 

Not to mention his piss poor excuse to not even try to find a way for their relationship to be accepted in some measure by the King. 

Their relationship…
There wasn’t even a relationship to speak of!

Annika could feel her ire growing the more she thought of Fin’s rejection. 

‘Well I guess he just means more to me than I to him. Enough of this, this doesn’t change my plan. I will not be made to be an idiot by him again.’ She announced in her mind darkly. 

Regardless of Fin’s dismissal of her, she still wasn’t going to marry any of the suitors. She didn’t need to be shackled to some husband. That would make her political tendencies annoying to hide. Though, Lord Ryu seemed far more aware of her true nature than she was exactly comfortable with. 

He was definitely a clever man…

The King was quite astute for having selected the newly ennobled Zinferan for her. If she had to choose between the three of them, he would definitely  be the most likely one.

Fin’s face appeared in her mind again, and she suddenly saw red creeping into her vision. 

“-We’ll join the others after Lord Piereva speaks to the men that have already come ashore.”

Annika’s attention snapped back sharply to the two Troivackians then. She hadn’t been able to hear what they had been saying before, but what ‘men’ had already come to shore?

“Aye, I imagine we could actually take over the country with just the soldiers we have now to be perfectly honest. These idiots are so blindly trusting, I could be dripping in the blood of their children and they’d still offer me food.” The two laughed heartily. 

“I’d wager you a gold coin that if one man held a knife to the Queen’s throat the King would hand over the entire Kingdom without a battle.” 

“That wouldn’t be any fun though.” 

Even though the red was filling her vision, Annika felt herself smile crazily. She was entirely unaware that she looked thoroughly terrifying. 

Without thinking anything else, Annika stepped out from behind the tree and threw the knife with precise aim at the taller of the two men. It struck him between the eyes, freezing his cruel smile in place forever.

The shorter one swung around, but Annika was already behind him. She shoved her heel into his groin, and as he doubled over, uppercut him in the throat. 

“I wager you a gold coin you didn’t know how badly I needed to hit someone today.” The Lady informed her opponent hoarsely over the clamor of the storm around them.

Despite his weakened state the shorter man managed to land a weak blow against Annika’s side- the side that had been freshly stitched. 

She gasped but not before she once again shoved her heel into his groin. As he doubled over with a sharp cry she grabbed his own dagger from his belt. 

“You fight like a dirty Troivackian.” Annika smiled with a deranged glint in her eyes from beneath her hood. “I love it.” 

The soldier peeked up at her; anger, pain, and the tiniest hint of fear flashing in his eyes. 

“Who the hell are you?” He croaked as Annika flipped the blade in her hand. 

“A Daxarian who has had a bad day.” She ground out before giving her final blow. 

***

“None of them returned?” Lord Piereva’s eyes flashed dangerously down at his squire. The man was standing ramrod still, too frightened to even tremble as he gave his report while on his knees. 

“No my Lord. We intercepted the message the mercenary known as Corey was attempting to send as you instructed. We then sent five men out to discover the spy in the castle at the rendezvous point, but there hasn’t been any trace of anyone. I gathered more men and went to the meeting spot before dinner this evening, and found some traces of blood and evidence of a fight, but nothing else.” The squire paused for a short breath before adding. “The rains have washed away most of the trail and proof.”

The Earl fixed his murderous gaze to his chamber window on his left, his dark eyes staring boldly into a place no one else could see. 

“The spy must have figured out it was a trap and came with back up. I will be honest Kelsey, I did not anticipate there being someone in Daxaria capable of having intelligence.” The squire knew better than to trust the restraint the Earl was exuding as he slowly turned back to stare at the top of the young man’s head. 

“I will have you seek my sister now and bring her to me. I have not yet given her the orders from our King, and it has been days since we arrived.” The squire leapt up eagerly to his feet. Without paying any heed to his bruised knees he flew out of the room, grateful to have escaped a physical retribution for the bad news he had delivered. 

In the silence the Earl began thinking of the possible Daxarians that had an ounce of acumen and could’ve outwitted him. The list was quite short, but frustrating nonetheless. 

The mage would make the most sense as he could surely take on five men and dispose of them easily while remaining unscathed. 

Lord Piereva would have to seek out information on where the Royal Mage named Lee had been that day. 

Another option was Captain Antonio. Though the man seemed too direct to be secretive. He also would have a harder time sneaking away from his men- unless of course his Knights had been the one to help dispose of the bodies. 

Still… the man was too blunt to be a proper spy. 

Lord Fuks was too insane to be nuanced. The Chief of Military’s son Les Fuks was too spineless to ever endeavor spying on Troivack. 

Lord Piereva hesitated then. 

Son of the Chief of Military…

Aidan Helmer’s son… a weak cook. 

However, he shared blood with a powerful fire witch. That could not be overlooked…

It was a conundrum to be certain, but Lord Piereva knew he’d get to the bottom of it. After he spoke to his sister, he would go seek out the mercenary named Corey and force answers from him. It was his own foolishness that he hadn’t had the informant followed after intercepting his means of communicating with someone named the ‘Dragon’. 

The Troivackian noble was deep in thought when he heard the gentle knock on his door. 

The Earl barked admittance, and turned to stare at his sister who was looking strangely pale. 

“What’s wrong with you?” He demanded, his eyes narrowing. 

“I fear I may have caught whatever malady you were suffering from upon your arrival.” She answered weakly. 

At first Lord Piereva was suspicious, but she really didn’t look well- she was even hunching over her middle subtly. He remembered the pain of his own mysterious sickness well, and deemed her words to be truthful. 

“Well this news should make you feel better. Your true King has ordered you to choose Lord Miller to marry.” The Lord watched her carefully then, even though he knew his irritating brat of a sibling would bend to his will. “It is time for you to return to Troivack, you fortunate runt.”

Annika blinked slowly.

Lord Piereva glared. 

“Very well. However I must wait until after the Prince’s ball, otherwise the Daxarian King will become suspicious and could hold us prisoner.” 

The Earl snorted condescendingly. 

“That pathetic soft sack? Unlikely.” 

Annika’s face remained perfectly still when she replied meekly, yet somehow… firmly. 

“With the added pressure of the Zinferans being here, he may become desperate.” 

Lord Piereva cast an appraising eye over his sister. She might not have been as dim as he had remembered her being back in Troivack. Perhaps being surrounded by fools had forced her to start using her head. 

“Very well. You have until after the ball. I heard the event was moved due to the suitors arriving early.”

“Yes.” She answered shortly, her face beginning to turn gray as she stared vacantly over his shoulder. 

“Be gone. I don’t want your sick in my chamber.” He dismissed her immediately, and even magnanimously overlooked her lack of curtsy when she rushed from the room. 

At least that was one annoyance dealt with properly. His sister had agreed to her true King’s order ensuring him she had no business being a spy. Not that he had ever thought that tall tale to be likely. 

After the ball, he would take her home to be wedded and bedded to the weak son of Lord Miller. Hopefully whatever brats she bore would inherit the Piereva strength. 

After that, Lord Piereva didn’t pay his sister another thought as his concerns turned to his need to check on the troops that had successfully snuck into Austice.

*

‘How the hell did this happen?’ Fin and Annika were unaware that they were thinking the exact same thing at the exact same time. 

The redhead kept his eyes fixed on the glass tower instead of anywhere near the table where Lord Miller and Lady Jenoure sat dining right in front of him. He feigned indifference to the Troivackian praising his skills in the kitchen, and tried to look at ease. 

“Mr. Ashowan, did you hear me?” Fin slowly turned his head and locked his calm icy stare with the Troivackian. 

“Thank you my Lord.” Fin bowed. He couldn’t look at Annika. 

“What business did you have in the greenhouse? I hear the keeper is quite mysterious.” The honest eager interest in the Lord’s voice made Fin’s left eye twitch, and the noble visibly leaned back in response. 

The cook had been called over by the Lord Miller after he had finished his work with the Earth witch for the day, and was seen leaving with a sack of exotic fruits. He had almost been able to pretend he hadn’t heard, but one of the footmen standing guard of the entrances had stopped him.

“Kasim is a private man. He provides the kitchen with fresh fruit and vegetables year round, and even grows some that are not native to Daxaria.” 

Fin explained his eyes once again fixating on the distance. 

“I see, what a wonderful way to ensure a variety of food! I’m afraid our current Troivackian government is quite indifferent to such interests as food variety. Whatever is sustainable and consumable is good enough. Except for our wine and liquor, of which we are quite famous for.”

Fin gave a short nod, but said nothing else. 

Despite the cook’s outward apathy, he had been worried sick about Annika ever since she had left the kitchen. He didn’t know if she was going to be killed by her remaining assailants, or if her wound was going to get infected… 

He didn’t have a right to express his worries to her however. 

Lady Jenoure drank deeply from her teacup that was filled with moonshine and a splash of tea, as she tried to ignore the pain in her side from her wound, and her churning stomach at Fin’s proximity.  

“I’m something of a self-proclaimed academic, so I find this quite interesting. I want to travel the world and learn about the different cultures and record them for everyone to learn about. In fact, if Lady Jenoure graces me with her hand in marriage, I would insist she join me on these ventures.” The man was smiling in a friendly manner and there was a merry twinkle in his eye. He seemed warm, kind, interesting…

Fin hated him. 

“I wish you the best in your travels. I must return to the kitchens.” Fin bowed and exited the courtyard as hastily as possible, his fist clenching and unclenching at his side while the other carried the sack slung over his shoulder. 

After his departure, Annika fixed the Lord with a slightly unfocused stare. 

“You don’t want to return to Troivackian court?” She asked, her mind fuzzy from all the moonshine she had been forced to consume to hide her excruciating physical pain. 

“I suppose I really should try and keep that on the down low. My father expects me to return quickly, and if I am to secure out marriage, he is going to give me a piece of land for me to rule and profit from on my own. However… I want to know all about the world. I have no interest in politics. I want to travel and see everything before assuming the responsibility of a Lord. Once I return, I’ll enforce the best methods to be a profitable and good Lord to my plebes.” The excited flush in the man’s face was unprecedented, and Annika found herself stunned into speechlessness.

“I know I’m not like most Troivackians but then… neither are you.” The emphatic statement made Annika close her mouth, and wait for an opening in the conversation to excuse herself. She couldn’t mentally handle the Troivackian anomaly sitting across from her just that minute as Fin’s faint smell of freshly baked bread lingered around the table. 

In truth, Annika felt so irritated and restless, that the urge to flee and disappear from the entire castle was growing. The fact that that impulse was exactly what the man across from her was suggesting, was dangerously appealing. 

Raising her teacup to her lips, Annika’s foggy mind began to consider her future a little more bleakly. 

She’d ensure that Daxaria would win the war at any cost. 

After that though… could things really go back to any semblance of normal?