The Vampire & Her Witch

Eira thought she knew Sir Ollie. Not as well as people from his village or members of Empress Ashlynn’s coven did, but better than most who’d met him recently.

She’d been there when he joined Lord Governor Loghlan Dunn’s vassals for dinner with the ’missing’ Liam Dunn. She’d watched him perform a miracle that night when he healed Sir Gavin’s shoulder of a wound that the Church had been unable or unwilling to cure for the past two years.

She’d witnessed an even greater miracle when he reseeded a small forest after draining most of its vitality to save the life of Lady Cerys, risking his own in the process. Afterward, she’d spent a whole day with him, Lord Liam and Lady Morwen in a carriage on the ride to Maeril.

If that hadn’t been enough to claim to know him well, she’d gone on to spend an entire day with his parents when Sir Cynwrig took them into his protection ahead of Empress Ashlynn’s assault on Lothian Manor.

She’d been there to witness the moment that a wounded, bloodied Ollie had reunited with his parents after the hardest battle of his life, and she’d seen the fear and worry in his eyes as he revealed his witchcraft to them.

In every aspect, Eira had come to admire Sir Ollie greatly. She’d considered him to be exceptionally polite, with manners that were both courtly and a bit antiquated. He was reserved most of the time, plainspoken to be certain, but never to the point of rudeness. He inspired fierce devotion from his men, like Harrod, who was driving their carriage, and after seeing his selflessness and hearing about his heroism, it wasn’t difficult to understand why.

Once Empress Nyrielle arrived with Lord General Thane and Dame Sybyll, the largest influences in Sir Ollie’s life were even more clear, and she could see subtle ways that he emulated Sir Thane’s calm, capable presence.

Eira thought that she had come to a good understanding of Sir Ollie, and she thought that the mild-mannered knight was a good match for her friend Morwen, if Morwen could find a way to bridge the wide gap between their respective statuses.

Her understanding began fraying rapidly when Ollie asked her if she could join him to help Princess Jocelynn prepare for her Trial of Witchcraft. She might not know what a Trial of Witchcraft entailed, though the way Sir Ollie spoke about a knight’s vigil gave her some ideas, so she’d prepared herself to follow along quietly and respectfully, helping in every way she could.

Only the quiet, reserved Sir Ollie that she thought she knew was nowhere to be found. Instead, she saw a livelier side of Ollie than she’d seen before, and that only became more evident when Princess Jocelynn joined them.

”We should be fairly close,” Ollie said, looking out the window as the carriage rolled through the streets of Vale City. ”I think,” he said with a frown as he looked at several half-finished buildings surrounding them, as if he was trying to spot something specific.

”Do we need to stop and ask for directions?” Jocelynn asked innocently. ”I don’t think anyone would fault us for getting lost with so much change in the city.”

”No, that’s not it,” Ollie said, letting the curtains fall back over the window as he sat back in his chair. ”You can’t hear that?”

”Hear what?” Jocelynn asked. ”Are you like my sister now? You see and hear everything?”

”No, but...” Ollie started only to cut off as the carriage rounded a corner onto a street where the residents were hanging decorations to celebrate the fall of Lothian and the founding of the Bloodroot Empire.

They were hanging decorations, and they were singing...

”...ing of the iron pot! Sing of the Cypress Tree...”

”...the hero of the broken and the truest knight I’ve seen...”

”Ah,” Jocelynn said, smiling at the embarrassed look on Ollie’s face. ”Someone is popular with the people.”

”Maybe,” Ollie acknowledged. ”Maybe it’s just a catchy song. How much does it cost to pay a minstrel to write a good song and spread it anyway?”

”You think someone paid to spread your legend?” Jocelynn asked with a teasing gleam in her eyes. ”Do you have an admirer who wants to inflate your status among the people?”

”I was thinking that someone should write a song about Reynold, Erling and Aspakos,” Ollie said. ”It’s not fair that I’m the only one who’s popular here. Or maybe a song about you and Ashlynn,” Ollie suggested, teasing Jocelynn right back. ”A song about two beauties is sure to be sung in every tavern.”

”If it’s a song about two beauties, it’s a song about Ash and Nyrielle,” Jocelynn countered. ”I don’t have any place in those songs. Leave them for people who have done things worth singing about.”

”Of course you have a place in those songs,” Ollie countered with a warm, open smile. ”You survived Owain and Percivus both. That’s a victory worth singing about. And Ashlynn told us about the knife you hid under your wedding dress,” Ollie added. ”If she hadn’t shown up, you’d have killed Owain yourself,” he declared confidently.

Eira’s eyes opened wide at the revelation that Jocelynn had been planning to murder Owain on their wedding night. Perhaps she shouldn’t have been surprised. Jocelynn was Empress Ashlynn’s sister after all.

It was just that, from what she’d seen so far, Jocelynn had been withdrawn and almost timid at events like Lord Dirar’s welcoming feast. After her appointment as the Lord Minister of Commerce, she’d thrown herself into her work, meeting with the prominent merchants of the Verdant Hills and working late into the night over large stacks of documents.

Her impression of Princess Jocelynn had been very similar to Lord Steward Hugo, but clearly there was a great deal more to the Empress’s younger sister than she’d seen so far.

”Ah, we’re here,” Ollie said before Jocelynn could respond to his comment about her plans to murder the man she almost married. Moments later, the carriage rolled to a stop outside of a small, two-story shop sandwiched between a large warehouse and a freshly renovated counting house.

As they stepped outside of the carriage, however, both Eira and Jocelynn looked confused at the shop Ollie had brought them to.

Eira had expected to visit one of Vale City’s premier dressmakers, or at least a tailor accustomed to working with people of exceptional taste and status. Instead, Ollie had brought them to a run-down shop in a building that clearly hadn’t benefitted from the transformation currently sweeping through Vale City.

Not only that, it wasn’t even the right kind of shop!

”A draper?” Eira said, frowning as she read the sign hanging over the door. It was written in both the Eldritch script of hooked, angular characters and a more familiar, flowing script of the king’s common tongue, but unless the Eldritch portion said something completely different from what had been written for humans, then they weren’t in the right place at all.

”Yup,” Ollie said with a wide grin. ”Come, I’ll introduce you to Thoralle,” Ollie promised as he offered his arm to Jocelynn. ”You’ll be in very good hands...”