A Wintertide Spell Page 2

  But oh, how she loved him. His charm and his generosity and the care with which he treated his subjects. His strong arms and his twinkling eyes and the way he gazed at her as if she alone was all he needed to keep from straying. Her heart beat only for him, her children and her duty to her kingdom. He claimed to love her as well. Had claimed it first, in fact.

  Until last month, she’d believed it.

  Even though her life was in turmoil, even though labor pangs struck at her like curses, Geneva allowed herself the brief, vicious satisfaction that Malady had been banned. Fairies longed for human gold but couldn’t mine or work it themselves. Bargaining with humans was their only way to lay hands on the substance they craved.

  Now Malady had none and no way to get more. No way to trade for it, no way to come into the human lands and get it. And she, Geneva of Foresta, the Queen of the smallest of all the Middle Kingdoms, had shaped this thing to punish the wickedest of fairies.

  It was worth it. It had to be worth it. No matter what happened in the future, to her dear little Susannah with her own burdensome curse. Malady had finally been banished.

  But then waves of serious labor crashed into her, and she could think of nothing but the hard road that lay ahead, the road she was to walk without her husband at her side.

  Chapter 3

  King Reginald was feeling munificent after the success of his liaison. In a jolly, bartering mood, he inspected the merchandise of the Dandy Fairy Pawn Shop before heading home. Wintertide was tomorrow, and if there was one thing he loved, it was the excitement on the faces of his ladies, both big and small, when they opened their gifts under the evergreen tree.

  To tell the truth, there were many things Reginald loved, but bringing joy to women was one of his chief pleasures.

  Yet to his surprise, the proprietor, who’d been so helpful until now, tried to talk him out of the dainty magic flutes.

  “The princesses already have flutes,” said the old man, who looked human but wasn’t. “Your wife bought them today.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Reginald laughed at the thought of Geneva doing anything as idiotic as tromping about town this close to her confinement. Of the two of them, he was by far the more foolish one, and he wasn’t exactly known for poor choices. The broadsheets had begun to refer to him King Reginald the Just, for the growing accomplishments of his Justice Chambers.

  He was often right. This meant his lovely Geneva was never wrong. It was sometimes annoying, but that was the way of it.

  But something niggled at him. His wife was right. Normal. He enjoyed buying presents. Normal. Ah. The fairy had said the princesses had flutes, which meant he must have recognized Reginald, even in his huntsman disguise.

  Which meant he’d known who Reginald was, all this time, through all these dealings.

  Interesting. And a bit unsettling.

  Before he could question the man, a marble of light pinged through the door and zipped up to the King. It began to whistle.

  The proprietor cursed and slapped it out of the air with an agility that seemed impossible at his age. But then, he was a fairy.

  Reginald backed away from the entrance. “What was that?”

  “Location spell, cued to you. We can’t have them finding you in my shop with the necklace in your possession.” The oldster jabbed a wand Reginald hadn’t seen him grab, and the secret door cracked open behind the counter. “Quick, hide in the back room. Don’t make a peep.”

  Before Reginald could leap over the counter, the location spell was followed by a castle guard. Instead of attacking anyone, the young man screeched something frantic about the Queen.

  Reginald felt his heart stop in his chest before it increased to double time. “What about my wife?”

  “Your Highness, you’re needed at the castle. The babe comes,” the young man gasped out.

  The old fairy slammed the hidden door and swiped his mouth with a hand that shook slightly. “Jumping Jack Gilly frogs, I thought it was the FAE for sure.” He bagged the flute for the King. “Take it. In fact, take three. You’ll need multiples.”

  “Thank you.” Reginald accepted the sack and patted the treasure in his coat pocket. The excitement and tension of a birthing begin to energize him. A baby. Another precious baby, and this one an unusually special child.

  “Best hurry,” the proprietor said. “The timing is crucial.”

  “Wish me luck,” he replied, although he was confident he didn’t need it.

  For Reginald had a secret, a secret he hadn’t told anyone, not even Geneva. All right, perhaps he’d discussed it in general terms with his eldest daughter, but Susannah was five. She couldn’t possibly understand the ramifications of what he’d done. He just loved the way her wee forehead scrunched up when she concentrated, the solemn questions she asked as she considered everything he said.

  Just like her mother. Susannah was going to make somebody a heck of a Queen some day. Too bad it wouldn’t be his kingdom, because his son would inherit that.

  Chapter 4

  “Off with his head!” screeched the laboring Queen when her errant husband finally showed his face in the birthing chamber.

  She would have grabbed her rapier and chopped his fake smile and big fuzzy head off herself if another contraction hadn’t hit her the moment she tried to stand.

  “I want the pain spell,” she snarled at the slender court healer in his plain, red tunic and trousers. “Now.”

  “It’s too soon. It will slow your labor.” Naudo eased her back into the padded birthing chair, Binny clucking and smoothing the strands of blond hair that had come loose from Geneva’s tight queue. “I must warn you, emotional upset will also make the birthing more difficult.”

  “Tell that to him.” Geneva groaned and pointed a trembling finger at Reginald, who had the good grace to look ashamed of his tardiness. Not to mention the fact he’d been tupping some other woman instead of holding his wife’s hand and bathing her brow. He hadn’t left her side for one minute during the first two princesses’ births, and she felt betrayed for many reasons.

  So many, many reasons.

  “My dear,” her husband said hesitantly, “I have a gift for you.”

  “I’ve got something for you, too,” she snapped at him when she could vocalize without screaming. She shoved her heels into the stirrups of the chair and straightened, her hands gripping the blue linen that modestly covered her belly and thighs. “Come over here and get it.”

  If she pulled hard enough, she could rip the linen. She was sure of it. She’d seen Binny make bandages out of it for the stillroom. Then she could strangle him with the rope.

  “Er.” Reginald retrieved something small from his waistcoat pocket. “Is it bigger than a breadbox?”

  “This is not funny, Reginald.” She shoved aside the cool rag Binny was using to wipe her forehead. “I’ve been here alone for hours and hours. And Naudo won’t give me the pain spell.”

  “You’re not alone,” the healer pointed out, the bright fairy lights in the birthing chamber gleaming off his bald, brown pate. “We would never leave you alone. And you’re not ready for the pain spell. You’ll need it more later.”

  She ignored the one man to focus on the other. “Reginald, where have you been? You almost missed the baby’s crowning.”

  His eyes widened, and he paled. “We’re that close? You aren’t just angry at me?”

  “Yes, we’re that close, you bastard.”

  “But the girls took hours.”

  “This one’s different. She’s fast.” Of course he hadn’t answered her question. He’d never confess his sins in front of the nurse, the healer, the assistant healer, the assistant nurse and everyone else in the birthing room at the current time.

  He might not even confess them to her. That was why she needed proof, so he could be punished. With rapiers. Wielded by her. Reginald the Just would meet her justice.

  He hurried to her side. “My dear, this isn’t like you.”

 
“And it isn’t like you to—” she began, but stopped herself before she slipped. She had no verification other than her gut and his curse. Until now, it wasn’t like her husband to cheat on his wife.

  Except that it was, twelve times over, as decreed by that bitch Malady at his birth.

  Geneva would have directed her wrath at the fairies, loudly and publicly, except that Naudo, who had always been kind, was attending the birthing. Thanks to him, the process would be less painful and onerous. Or it would be when he cast her mick-mucking pain spell.

  Moreover, it was a rather inescapable tradition for a fairy healer to enact a noble child’s naming ceremony at the proper moment so the Fairy Alliance for Ethics representatives could prepare their dubious christening gifts.

  And so, she would curse Reginald now, the fairies later. At least the current crop of FAE representatives never handed out body odor or unfaithfulness to one’s lawfully wedded wife.

  Reginald began to massage her tense shoulders, his big, strong hands working out the kinks. She didn’t want him touching her, but his presence soothed her in a way Naudo and Binny could not. She inhaled deeply as pain struck, fully expecting to detect the scent of another woman’s perfume on his treacherous fingers, but instead all she smelled was herbs, blood and...was that dirt?

  Her husband smelled of newly turned earth?

  In the middle of Wintertide season?

  Perhaps because he’d been plowing some other furrow.

  Geneva, enraged, nipped at her husband’s hand, but her sharp teeth missed their target. Agony danced through her pelvis and the small of her back as the babe dropped lower. She let out a cry and dove for her husband’s arms. He held her tightly, murmuring words of comfort and love in her ears.

  For the moment, she chose to believe them. It helped to pretend, and if she concentrated, his arms felt as safe as ever.

  “Here comes another one,” she said. Her stomach constricted, and her womb tried to turn itself inside out.

  Reginald released her, and she whimpered a protest. But pain crested and the need to push became urgent. She howled and panted. Naudo coached her breathing. Binny held her hand. The assistant healer and assistant nurse hovered with clean cloths, blankets and water.

  And Reginald? He fumbled at her neck, placing some sort of cord around it. Did he plan to strangle her at her most vulnerable so he could marry his next great love?

  When her longest, most painful contraction yet drew to a close, Geneva sensed it wouldn’t be much longer. One or two more pushes, and the babe would arrive in half the time of her sisters.

  “I will now cast the pain spell.” Naudo waved a tiny wand over her mounded stomach. Sparkles drifted over her like snow, snow from a Wintertide sky. They spread a warm glow throughout her body, softening and relaxing her for the final endeavor.

  “Thank the Dragon,” Geneva said with a sigh. Released temporarily from her pain, she drooped in her husband’s muscular arms and let his touch appease her. Her consciousness drifted. She’d attempted to discuss baby names with Reginald last month before his suspicious behavior had started, and he’d suggested Hortense. Not a bad choice. It brought to mind an obedient child, a just child, a child who would love books, and learning, and law.

  But Geneva, her spirit drifting on waves of cottony relief, now pictured a different child. She imagined a beautiful girl, elegant and graceful. She imaged a girl whose long black hair was the color of ebony, her skin the pure white of snow. Her lips as pink as roses.

  Roses. She’d always wanted a child named for roses.

  Geneva became aware of a musty odor tickling her nostrils. That was definitely not roses. She glanced down. A small object that looked like a wizened human finger lay between her milk-heavy breasts.

  “What the fook,” she said, her voice a rusty croak she hardly recognized, “is that?”

  “A birthing charm.” Reginald, his hands eager, tightened the cord behind her neck. This drew the mangled pendant closer to her face. It left a faint smear of brown on her sweaty pink nightrail. He rose from the special seat behind her birthing chair and wrapped his arms around her, cupping the item with his free hand.

  “My Queen, you and the Middle Kingdoms will be thanking me soon,” he whispered. “You have no idea what I’ve gone through to obtain this for us. Don’t let Naudo see it.”

  Geneva tried to inspect the hideous object, but his hand concealed it. She didn’t like the tone of his voice and his note of braggadocio. She didn’t like his smelly gift. She supposed his other lover was the one who would now receive the rubies, the candies and the flowers while she would receive dead things.

  She drew his head to her lips, but instead of kissing him, she hissed, “Who is she?”

  “Who is who?”

  “The other woman.” Geneva dug her fingers into his thick hair with a good portion of her strength, and he winced. “The one you’ve been seeing in town. Your next great love.”

  Reginald blinked rapidly. “What are you talking about?”

  “I followed you.”

  “You were in town today?” His hand grasped hers and attempted to preserve his scalp. She felt a dull heaviness increase in her loins, and she breathed deeply to postpone the next contraction. Not now, my child. Wait one more moment. I need to murder your father.

  “You’ll leave her, too, for number three.” Tears filled Geneva’s eyes, and she could barely make out her husband’s handsome visage. This last month had turned her into a regular waterspout. “But I’m your Queen and you will not put me and your children aside. I won’t allow it, do you hear me?!”

  “I haven’t left you. I love you.” Reginald cupped her face in his smelly hands. “You and only you. How could I love another when I have you? There won’t be thirteen women for me, now or ever. Just one.”

  Tears spilled down her cheeks. She wanted to believe him desperately. “The fairies are never wrong. And I followed you.”

  Reginald’s firm, soft lips brushed her own, and in a voice so quiet she could barely hear him, he said, “I may have had dealings with…ah…a representative of the fairy black market this afternoon. The charm had to be properly timed to your pregnancy in order to work. I could get it no earlier than Wintertide Eve. I hurried as fast as I could go.”

  “A charm?” Geneva felt hope leap in her breast like the baby leapt in her womb, ready for release. “You were seeking a charm this afternoon?”

  “The charm will—” Reginald began, but Naudo clapped, which made a great deal more noise than might be expected from such thin hands.

  “Your Highnesses, the babe is ready,” he commanded. “It is time.”

  “Not yet!” Geneva yelled. She wanted more answers from her husband before it was too late.

  Binny smacked the King in the back of the head. “Sit your bottom down, sirrah, and help your wife focus. Do you want to suffocate the poor child? She’s ready to be born.”

  Reginald sank abruptly into his spot and grasped Geneva’s shoulders. He twitched the pendant around so it was behind her head. “I’m ready to meet my so—, I mean, my child. Darling, are you ready?”

  “Fine. I’m ready,” Geneva said. Braced by her man, who might still be worthy of the title husband, she began to push her third baby into the world.

  Because of the efficacy of the healer’s spell, Geneva felt only pressure and discomfort as the babe crowned. She panted and struggled, with Reginald and Binny urging and encouraging her, cheering her on. Soon the fifth member of the royal family of Foresta slipped as easily as these things go into the waiting arms of a Naudo. Healer and assistant checked the child quickly before wrapping it in a clean towel to be introduced to the parents.

  “Hurry up. I want my baby,” Geneva demanded. Her arms ached to hold the child.

  “Your baby is healthy.” Naudo smiled at her and raised his wand for the next part of the process.

  “Child of King Reginald and Queen Geneva of Foresta, I dub thee—” He paused for Geneva to supply the ch
ild’s name. Magic tingled in the air as the naming spell waited to take effect.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but Reginald, in great excitement, leapt to his feet. The pendant heated, singeing the back of Geneva’s neck, as her husband blared out, “We shall call him Peter!”

  Latching onto the name, magic sizzled across Geneva’s skin, then sparkled through Reginald, before it centered on their new baby. The baby began to cry. The newborn had a thin, wobbly wail that grew stronger and stronger as the lungs grew accustomed to sucking air in and out.

  For a long moment, the babe’s wails were the only sound in the birthing chamber.

  The sear of the pendant on Geneva’s skin and the prickle of the naming spell disappeared before they became excruciating. Tears glinted in Reginald’s eyes, and she pressed a shaking hand to her mouth. Binny, beside them, muffled a gasp as well.

  A boy? This birthing charm Reginald had procured…had it broken the Female Curse? It must have done something, else why would it have burned her skin?

  He slid one arm around her and held out the other. “My wife and I would like to hold our son, please.”

  It would be only fitting if the two of them broke the curse when they’d essentially been the ones to cause it. Geneva reached behind her to touch the skin beneath the pendant and found it tender, almost sore.

  The healer frowned and cradled the baby to his chest. “What is hanging around the Queen’s neck?”

  “Does it matter?” Reginald rose to his full height and towered over the smaller man. “The deed is done, sir. Introduce us to our son.”

  “I cannot do that.” Naudo shook his bald, brown head with what seemed like genuine regret. “But I can introduce you to your daughter, whose name shall be Peter, from now until the end of recorded time.”

  “Daughter? But the fairy said the charm would work.” Reginald untied the smelly pendant from Geneva’s neck and shook it. “Do you know what I had to do to get this? Do you know how much I paid for this? You must be wrong. The babe in your arms is a boy.”