Warrior Witch

Warrior Witch

Danielle L Jensen

Contents

Dedication

1. Cécile

2. Tristan

3. Cécile

4. Tristan

5. Cécile

6. Tristan

7. Cécile

8. Cécile

9. Tristan

10. Cécile

11. Cécile

12. Tristan

13. Cécile

14. Tristan

15. Cécile

16. Tristan

17. Cécile

18. Cécile

19. Cécile

20. Tristan

21. Cécile

22. Tristan

23. Cécile

24. Cécile

25. Tristan

26. Cécile

27. Tristan

28. Cécile

29. Cécile

30. Cécile

31. Tristan

32. Tristan

33. Cécile

34. Tristan

35. Cécile

36. Cécile

37. Tristan

38. Cécile

39. Tristan

40. Cécile

41. Cécile

42. Cécile

43. Tristan

44. Cécile

45. Tristan

46. Cécile

47. Tristan

48. Cécile

49. Tristan

50. Cécile

51. Tristan

52. Cécile

53. Tristan

54. Cécile

55. Tristan

56. Cécile

57. Cécile

58. Cécile

59. Cécile

60. Tristan

61. Cécile

62. Tristan

63. Cécile

64. Tristan

65. Tristan

66. Cécile

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Legals

Dedication

For KG, who allowed me just enough sleep to finish this novel.

Chapter One

Cécile

My voice, the one thing about me that had always been valued, suddenly seemed inconsequential in the cacophony of voices filling the courtyard. Questions and demands fought with the cries of those whose nerves had collapsed in the face of this unknown adversary, their collective onslaught driving me back step by step until I stood apart in the snow.

Tristan raised one hand, silencing the din. “Your questions will be answered, but not here and not now.” To the grim-faced Regent, he added, “Assemble your counsel. We’ve plans to make and time is short.”

“You presume to give orders to me, boy?” the Regent replied, his tone as chilly as the air. He alone seemed calm, and I almost admired him for it, given that he must have known what, if not who, Tristan was. Almost, because I knew his scorn was directed at the one boy capable of saving us all.

Tristan’s flash of frustration made my teeth clench, and a prickle of unease burned between my shoulders, causing me to glance in the direction of Trollus. How soon would they come? And what would they do when they arrived? They were questions that likely sat heavily in Tristan’s mind, and both of us knew we didn’t have time to stand in a courtyard arguing.

“Presume?” There was almost no inflection in Tristan’s voice, but tension sang through the crowd. “Have you forgotten why you, and all those before you, have styled yourselves as ‘regents’? Or perhaps you’re unaware of what the title means?”

“I’ve forgotten nothing,” the Regent snapped. “I know our history.”

“Then you know it is no presumption,” Tristan said. “You owe your allegiance to my family and our crown; and if you do not offer it freely, it is within my right, and certainly within my power, to take it by force.”

He was silent for a moment, and I held my breath, uncertain of what he’d say next or why he believed that threatening this man was the right path to take. We needed him on our side.