Page 31 of The Cordial Bride

Ian reached around his wife’s back and tugged at one of Amalie’s braids. “You are becoming a hard task mistress. That being said, yes, we will start on a maze as soon as we return. I’m sure it takes many years to fully form. You’ll have to be patient. I’m not sure that’s your best quality.”

His niece looked affronted, looking just like her mother. “Yes, it is—like with you and mama.” The child skipped ahead, the guards reforming to keep her encircled.

Ian started to laugh, then caught a flash of movement at the entrance to the maze. “Stop the child!” The guards acted immediately, one of them not only grabbing Amalie, but picking her up bodily and carrying her to Lady Isabeau. “Take them both back to the house.”

“Take Mistress Amalie,” Isabeau corrected to the guards. “I’m with you, brother, whether you like it or not.”

Calan tugged at his hand. “What is it?”

“Your aunt.” He grimaced at his wife. “She just entered the maze.”

“How did she know we were headed there?”

“She may not have. I don’t suppose there’s any point in my ordering you to go with Amalie?” His wife simply glared at him. “No, of course not. Stay by my side and do as I say without question once we catch up with her. This I must insist on.”

“I understand.” The boy’s eyes got misty. “I don’t want to be a distraction to you by making you worried about me.”

Ian nodded. “Thank you.” Letting go of his wife’s hand, he pushed his way past the guards. “Stay behind me. Lady Isabeau and Countess Calan are your priority,” he shouted to the guards.

He led the way into the maze, scanning to see which direction the woman might have gone. It was a fairly complex layout and he hadn’t been through it all. Still, logic dictated that no matter what the woman’s intent was, she was likely going to the center. He started down the one path he knew that led to there.

The turns came quickly, and Ian kept his stride brisk in the hope of catching up to the shorter woman. She hadn’t been running when he’d caught sight of her, and he didn’t hear any pounding footfalls. The sheer difference in their leg lengths should allow him to close the gap between them soon. And he was rewarded when rounding a hedgerow, he saw a flap of dress taking the next turn. He gestured toward the guards to keep up as he increased his speed.

When he reached an intersection, he turned in the direction he knew would lead to the center. Before he took two steps, Calan pulled up to his side and stopped him.

He gestured in the opposite direction. “This way. It’s less well-known and takes longer to reach the center. She’s using it to evade us, I’m sure, and there’s nowhere else for her to go other than the fountain at this point. There are no exits, except the ones she’ll have to reach by going through the center to the other side.”

Ian didn’t hesitate to trust his wife’s judgment, and it didn’t take long for him to catch another glimpse of the woman. He didn’t try too hard now to overtake her. Surely Celia was aware that they followed, if she took a lesser-known route. And they weren’t trying to be quiet about it, either. He took the time to consider what he was going to do once he caught her. Although he’d hoped the council would take care of matters in whatever way they had here in Shadow Valley, it was clear now that all they had was banishment. And he wasn’t about to let the woman freely roam Moorcondia to seek out Calan, nor would he unleash her onto other unsuspecting countries. The best solution might be to bring her back to the king’s court and let him deal with her. There would be a risk to carting her with them, but he had to consider Calan’s feelings. He wasn’t going to want to stand by as Ian dispatched his aunt, no matter what she’d done. This was the woman who’d raised him, after all. I can’t let him be a witness.

His thoughts were getting ahead of his feet, however. The woman still eluded them. As they approached a corner past which Ian could both see and hear the fountain, he slowed and pushed Calan behind him. Thank the gods, the boy didn’t fight him on that. He stepped out into the clearing. Celia stood by the fountain, her back straight, her gaze fixed on him. She was clearly waiting for them to arrive.

“You have led us a merry chase, madam, and muddied the waters as best you could over my poisoning. You have failed on all accounts, however. It is time for you to face the consequences.” He got closer, then stopped when she held up a flask.

“You think you have me?” She shook her head. “You stole my nephew and my greatest discovery. I’m not going to let you take my life, too.”

Ian kept a sharp eye on that flask. He couldn’t be sure it didn’t contain something explosive. “Calan developed the cordial, not you, and he never belonged to you, so I couldn’t steal him away. He came to me freely, a fact that I shall forever be grateful for.”

“Because, like every man, he thought with his dick.” She sneered and looked past Ian’s shoulder.

He didn’t have to check to know his wife hadn’t stayed put. “Please leave, darling. We don’t know what she’s intending to do.”

“I know.” Calan stepped to his side. “That flask doesn’t contain anything that can harm us, only her. Isn’t that right, Aunt Celia?”

“Always a bright boy.” Celia took a visibly deep breath. “I could have found someone to satisfy your lust. You didn’t have to get in bed with the enemy.”

“Ian is not that. He never was. And I love him.”

Celia’s face twisted with rage. “Love! You don’t know what that is. You have always been a foolish boy, better suited to daydreaming than serving our people. The proof of it is how you are taking the most valuable thing we have and handing it over to others for the price of your pleasure. You disgust me!”

Calan flinched as if he’d been slapped, and the way he raised a hand to his cheek confirmed that he had been before—likely many times.

“That’s enough!” Ian roared and strode toward the woman, determined to take her prisoner and get her away from Calan for good.

Before he reached her, however, she unstopped the flask and drank from it. Her face screwed up in agony before she dropped to the ground. Calan flew past him and threw himself onto his knees beside her. He tried to take her in his arms, but she used what little strength she had to twist away. She convulsed a few times, then gasped as frothy pink liquid spilled from her mouth. Then…nothing.

Ian joined his wife on his knees and wrapped his arms around him, not entirely sure of his welcome. He needn’t have worried. Calan pressed into him, putting his forehead against Ian’s chest and wept—quietly but at length, his slender body shuddering with his sobs. When he judged that the storm was abating, Ian picked him up and carried him out of the maze. The boy had seen enough. Ian was determined to put them both to bed and rest from the ordeal. And if his legs were a little shaky on the journey back to their room, he ignored it. He wouldn’t hand his wife over to anyone at that moment.

Isabeau must have noticed his weakness and didn’t ignore it. She hurried to keep up with him. “Ian—”

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