Page 125 of The Witch in the Dead of Night

The adrenaline that pumped through my veins after our battle with the wightgasts had faded the moment Enhart had placed his hand on my back. As if my body recognized that I was safe with him by my side. The last thing I wanted to do now was return to the darkness. My eyelids drooped as Enhart and Agnes’s voices blurred together, my head slumping onto my chest.

“The witches released Miss Erramun back to us of their own volition,” Ivor said suddenly, jerking me out of my near-sleep state. A drop of whiskey sloshed over the lip of the tumbler. “Therefore we can assume that they will not try to recapture her for the time being.”

“Witches,” Agnes echoed, fiddling with her spectacles. “I can scarcely believe it.” Waves of shock pulsed off of her.

I shot her a sympathetic glance. She was perhaps the only one who could fully understand how I felt. The knowledge that there were so many witches out there was difficult to swallow, let alone the fact that they had done me harm.

“One man among dozens broke rank to get her out,” snapped Enhart. “We can assume nothing.”

“I’d rather stay the night,” I piped up. The trio stared at me as if they’d forgotten I was there.

I met Enhart’s wary gaze. “They cannot guarantee your safety,” he insisted.

“I know, but I’m exhausted. Please don’t make me go back out there tonight.”

Enhart stared at me for a moment, his gaze searching. Finally, he groaned, raking a hand through his hair. “If that’s what you want. But we leave at first light.”

“I will see to it that your horses are prepared before you leave,” said Agnes, adjusting her spectacles.

The prince’s gaze darkened. “And I will see to it that you regret your negligence.”

The Chancellor sighed, clasping his weathered hands before his waist. “It appears that our engagement has come to an end, Miss Erramun. This will not be the last time that our paths cross, of that I am certain, but for now, the Vice-Chancellor and I shall bid you farewell and good luck.”

My brow creased as he held me in his gaze, his words so assured that I wondered if he had somehow foreseen our next meeting. “I’m sorry that it ended this way,” I replied. “Thank you for everything.”

He nodded once, retreating from the chamber with Agnes in tow.

I raised my eyebrows as Enhart slammed the door shut in their wake. “Are you really going to have them punished? It wasn’t their fault.”

“For tonight, I prefer to think of it as their fault,” he replied. “It relaxes me.”

I rolled my eyes. “Does this mean I’m free to sleep? I nearly nodded off while you were arguing.”

“I noticed,” he quipped, perching on the edge of the chaise longue. “But first, I have some questions for you.”

I stifled a groan. “Alright.”

“Tell me everything you remember about the witches who took you.”

“I thought you said some questions.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Just tell me, please. While your memories are still fresh. Where did they take you?”

“Only because you said please.” My smile faltered as a growl rumbled in his chest. I cleared my throat. “It was some kind of encampment. The air was warm, and from what I could see I wondered if we might be near Helmshath or in the south somewhere.”

“That’s good. How many were there?”

“About two dozen, I think,” I replied, bringing the dram of whiskey back to my lips. My memory felt a little foggy. No wonder, given I had barely eaten in the last three days.

“What did they look like?”

“They looked, er, primitive.”

“Primitive?”

I nodded. “Canvas tents, spears, that kind of thing. Like they would be ready to pack up and leave if someone gave the word.”

“Nomadic?” he asked.