The River Queen's Spell: The Firethorn Kingdoms Bride, #2

By Katy Haye

Winning everything she desired only gave her something to lose...

Queen Hanna has secured the heart of her prince – now the king – but her position is as perilous as it ever was. King Jaran needs an heir, and a year after their wedding Hanna is still not pregnant. Enemies at court smile to her face while plotting behind her back, using her failure to produce an heir to weaken the crown and strengthen the hand of Muirland's disgraced mages.
Jaran and Hanna both know the issue lies with Jaran, but if his secret were known it would threaten his rule. Unwilling to countenance infidelity, Hanna is determined to find a solution – but when that solution relies on magic, can she persuade cynical King Jaran to trust in the River Queen's Spell?
Step into the Firethorn Kingdoms once again to discover whether Jaran and Hanna can secure their truly happy ending.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Plumshine Books
• Release date: Oct 10, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201733513

Book preview

The River Queen’s Spell

The River Queen’s Spell © Katy Haye 2020

Cover design © Miblart

The right of Katy Haye to be identified as the Author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this ebook may be reproduced in any form without the written permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and should not be resold or given away to other people.

This story is a work of fiction. All characters and events depicted in this novel are fictitious and any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

www.katyhaye.com

The River Queen’s Spell

Winning everything she desired only gave her something to lose...

Queen Hanna has secured the heart of her prince – now the king – but her position is as perilous as it ever was. King Jaran needs an heir, and a year after their wedding Hanna is still not pregnant. Enemies at court smile to her face while plotting behind her back, using her failure to produce an heir to weaken the crown and strengthen the hand of Muirland’s disgraced mages.

Jaran and Hanna both know the issue lies with Jaran, but if his secret were known it would threaten his rule. Unwilling to countenance infidelity, Hanna is determined to find a solution – but when that solution relies on magic, can she persuade cynical King Jaran to trust in the River Queen’s Spell?

Step into the Firethorn Kingdoms once again to discover whether Jaran and Hanna can secure the happy ending they deserve.

Contents

The River Queen’s Spell

1 – Carnival Atmosphere

2 – A Way Through

3 – Nasty

4 – A Suitable Bride

5 – Led by the Nose

6 – Reap a Harvest

7 – Complicity

8 – Condemn Everyone

9 – The River Queen

10 –Nordin Magic

11 – Unpleasant and Shrewish

12 – The Taste of Revenge

13 – Forthright Opinions

14 –A Miracle

15 – Torture

16 – Definitely Magic

17 – Offerings

18 – A Hard Heart

19 – Too Diligent

20 – A Substandard Creature

21 – Bloody Linens

22 – The Law of Succession

23 – The Mages’ Evil

24 – A Strong Ruler

25 – Muirland History

26 – Truly Blessed

27 – Beneath My Heart

28 – The Moon and Stars

29 – Funny Business

30 – Reinstate the Mages

31 – Inconvenient Truth

32 – I’m Armed!

33 – Discomfort

34 – A Task Too Big

35 – Heirs

Also by Katy Haye

1 – Carnival Atmosphere

The day the mages were expelled from Muirland City had the atmosphere of a carnival.

The first action of Muirland's newly crowned King Jaran had given school children and apprentices the day off and gathered most of the city's inhabitants in city square to watch the caravan depart.

You would have to be very close to him to notice, but the king was rigid with tension. Jaran wanted to be sure they were really gone.

I stood beside my lord husband on the palace balcony overlooking city square. It was a bitter February morning, frost tipping the grass on the palace lawns and clouding our breaths. I pushed my hands into my sleeves for warmth. Jaran showed no discomfort. His expression was impassive, but I saw the way the skin around his eyes lifted when the great gates in the wall that surrounded the mages’ tower swung open. If we had been alone, he would have been smiling at the final end to the mages he had never trusted.

The great lords and ladies on the balcony behind us weren't smiling. Shuffling noises sounded as the lords tried to keep their feet from going numb. The occasional muttering might have been a complaint about gathering outside on such a foul day, or an opinion about the mages. Their words were too quiet to reach us. King Jaran was young, but he was starting his reign as he meant to continue: with decisive action. The lords were either respectful or simply cautious enough to show no dissent.

A pennant appeared in the gateway to the mages' tower, flicked wide by the wind. A cheer sounded from the crowd below. The clop of hooves and rumble of wheels broke the silence before Muirland’s mages came into sight.

Mage Glimman rode ahead, his red cloak rippling over the back of his black horse. He was taking care that everyone would remember his departure. My lips tightened. Just so long as they actually left. And never returned. I didn’t hate Glimman with the passion I’d felt for his predecessor, but I was relieved to see the back of the mages and any attempts they might make to manipulate me or my family.

Behind Glimman rode three other red-robed mages. After that, came two more horses with black-robed apprentices riding them. Most of the mages’ apprentices had returned home before now. I wondered whether the two youths below had no families to return to. A pang of sympathy tightened my chest at the idea that the mages were the only family they had. I pitied anyone for whom that was true.

They started through the gates and the crowd cheered again. A prickle of unease passed down my spine. I hoped the ordinary people of Muirland were cheering at the spectacle, not because they supported the mages.

No, they loved their young king, and their shouts betrayed nothing of sorrow or anger.

The horses neared the middle of the square. Glimman paused to look up at the balcony and the royal party. His mouth was set in a hard line, his eyes glittering. As we watched, he rose in his stirrups and bowed from the waist.

Jaran inclined his head and raised his hand in acknowledgement.

I huffed, wondering if Glimman hoped even now that the king would relent and allow them back. There was no chance of that, I was very sure.

... a big, healthy boy. Lord Scarne is delighted with his young wife.

I stiffened. My gaze froze on the sight in the square where the baggage coaches were following the mages, but I no longer took in the sight. Cold filled my insides.

The Lady Claresse made a fine match for him, the other lord – I thought it was Firefort – told Venner.

Jaran set his hand on my sleeve. The movement was both reassurance and warning. Of course he had heard the comments. Venner made sure everyone had, wishing to point up the difference between his perfect sister who had bestowed a son and heir on her lord husband little more than nine months after their wedding, and me, barren a year after mine.

Jaran’s fingers squeezed and I straightened my shoulders, giving him an almost imperceptible nod. I had needed warnings like this – to hide my feelings – when I was newly a bride and unused to court. I knew better now. Whatever the gossip, and however much it hurt, I wouldn’t let my feelings show. I was the queen; above their petty jibes. And I definitely wouldn’t grant Venner power over my mood.

I blinked away any trace of emotion and watched as the final coach rattled over the cobbles and vanished out of sight.

Jaran nodded stiffly, acknowledging the fulfilment of his order. He turned, his eyes scanning the assembled lords. It is done. Muirland is free of the mages’ influence. The rule of law – created by my council – guides everyone from the greatest lord to the lowest peasant.

The lords mumbled their agreement, nodding confirmation of the king’s decree. I watched them as Jaran spoke, seeking any signs of disagreement. The lords were all too wily and experienced to allow their feelings to show. Even my brother, the youngest lord, met the king’s eyes openly.

Then my gaze reached Lord Venner. His eyes glittered as he watched me in return, a condescending smile twisting his lips. My jaw tightened. I couldn’t look away now, not when his face held such challenge.

We hunt this afternoon, Jaran declared. The lords’ response to that was far less subdued. All of them were happy for the chance to get away from business, the palace and the work of governing the kingdom. He turned to me, touching my arm, his expression softening. But we will take lunch in your rooms first, my queen.

Warmth spread through me, warmth prompted by his support. The lords parted as we walked past and this time I kept my gaze dead ahead so I wouldn’t catch the eye of any of them.

2 – A Way Through

If that toad Venner examines my belly and gives me a snide smile one more time I swear I will scream! I picked at my lunch, my appetite far smaller than my anger at the council lord determined to be my nemesis.

I plucked a slice of apple from my plate and offered it to Glide, my pet speckled hawk. She leaned down from her perch and accepted the treat with a croon of approval.

He is preening while he sees something that can elevate his family. Ignore him. Jaran had eaten quickly and now stood before the window a step away from me, his face turned to the glass and the scene beyond it, barely glancing at the leather ball he was throwing and catching one-handed.

I frowned. Jaran was with me in person, but his attention was clearly elsewhere. I gave up all pretence at eating. What is the matter? Do the mages still worry you? They had manipulated his father while he was king, not to mention trying to influence Jaran himself. Perhaps I was naïve in thinking their banishment was the end of matters. I had learned in the past year that I was naïve in many matters when it came to court life.

Not the mages.

Then what?

Jaran glanced aside. I couldn’t read his expression as his gaze flitted over my face. The succession, he stated.

Cold roiled through me, and I was glad I had barely eaten, my scant lunch abruptly uneasy in my stomach. I ... what of it?

Jaran sighed. The ground seemed to shift beneath my feet. Venner is causing trouble, but he is not wrong. Now that I have taken up the crown, attention has turned to the next generation.

I knew that. Wasn’t I the one who received the brunt of the court’s comments, courtiers staring at my flat belly and finding me wanting? You are a young king. There is plenty of time for heirs. My voice was hollow. I didn’t need Jaran to raise his brows and say, But we both know time won’t help this ill, don’t we?

I swallowed. We knew what was expected of us. An heir to rule in Jaran’s stead when he was dead and gone was an absolute requirement for the king.

And one we couldn’t deliver.

No one at court suspected that magic ran through Jaran’s veins, and only the two of us knew the form that magic took. As far as the court was concerned, Jaran was a man and a king, but his body straddled the line between male and female, and despite our efforts in that direction, it seemed impossible that he could set a baby in my belly.

My fingers weak, I pushed my plate away, took a deep breath and regarded Jaran. Venner is making a fuss over Claresse. I can tolerate his digs at me.

Jaran made an impatient noise. You shouldn’t have to. He threw the ball onto the bed and dropped onto the rug beside me, taking my hands in his. I need an heir. I should like to be able to announce at least that you are pregnant by the end of this year.

I blinked, shock stealing my breath. I can’t be unfaithful, Jaran. Don’t ask it of me. He had already suggested what he thought was the obvious solution to our dilemma, but I couldn’t do it. I looked up and licked my lips. I might be naïve but I wasn’t completely stupid. I had also been considering our options. I could fake a pregnancy. And when ... when the time comes ... we could smuggle a baby into the palace.

Jaran grunted, shaking his head before I’d even reached the end of my sentence. Such a plot would never work.

It might, I protested. If we were very careful.

A frown creased his brow. He put an arm around my shoulders. Don’t you want your own child, Hanna?

"I want your child, I muttered. If that isn’t possible it hardly matters."

His arm tightened. I rested my cheek on his chest and allowed myself to be comforted, breathing in the scent of Surranese limons that clung to him and the deeper scent beneath that which was simply Jaran himself. If only we could stay like this always. If only the court didn’t exist, and the council who wanted only to trip me up, and the kingdom whose expectations all seemed to reside in my empty womb.

Jaran kissed my hair. Sweet, we both know the solution. It is very simple.

No! I stood up, pulling away from him. Jaran was a practical ruler. He knew his limitations as well as understanding what the kingdom needed. I stepped up to the window and glared at the view outside. The palace lawns were tipped with white frost, leading to sheltering woodland that made me long to run into it and lose myself; leave all my problems behind. But this one could not be run from. It must be faced if we were to find a way through.

I turned back to Jaran, my arms folded. That is not our solution. Don’t ask it of me, please.

He walked forward, closing the distance until he gripped my shoulders. I stared at his throat, unwilling to face the expression I might find in his eyes. You would be giving me what I most crave – and what the kingdom most dearly needs.

I shook my head. You are hale and young. This can wait for years.

You know that isn’t true. It’s not fair, but until I have an heir, my crown is insecure. The people want certainty.

People! I scoffed, picking at a button on Jaran’s shirt. You mean the council. They should be supporting you, not finding reasons to chip away at your authority.

Jaran laughed, although it was no sound of true amusement. You know the council, Hanna. They support the crown because it suits them. Behind their support is a hunger for power that I must keep perpetually appeased.

I sighed, because I knew the tightrope Jaran walked, ensuring the web of obligations that kept the council together held permanently and skewed always in his favour. I had been ignorant when I joined the court, but my understanding had been repaired by mornings spent in the library and conversations with my husband about council business. I swallowed and voiced the objection that would carry more weight with Jaran than my distaste for betraying my vows. And if I lay with any of your councillors, I would tip that balance of power in their favour – who would you want to offer such power over me – and by extension, over you?

Silence fell, so profound I heard a crow caw outside the window. Jaran sighed and the hairs on the back of my neck rose. Perhaps... he started and trailed off. The tingle at my neck told me I wouldn’t like it, but I still asked, What?

You could, perhaps, take a trip to Senna. Take your mother to visit her old friends. And if you were to return with a babe in your belly, I would lead the celebrations...

I blinked at him. I was supposed to be the naïve one! Do you think the council are stupid? That they can’t count? They aren’t fools.

We could make it work, Jaran assured me. He reached for me, but I stepped back, away from comfort. I didn’t want a moment’s comfort. I wanted this matter resolved so it could no longer come between us. I was still so naïve that I wanted something that didn’t – couldn’t – exist.

Jaran’s tone hardened when his fingers closed on nothing. I told you the truth before we wed. I gave you the chance to back out. You knew this obligation would press on both of us.

There has to be another way, I murmured.

What? What do you suggest?

I knew he wouldn’t like my idea, but I had to say it. I glanced into his face. We could try magic.

No. I saw the play of emotions across Jaran’s face, none of them positive. You want us to offer power to the mages? His tone was full of disgust. Never.

Not the mages. I understood his hatred of them, knowing his father’s last months had been made more painful by potions administered by the chief mage to keep him under their power. The mages aren’t the only ones with magic. We could try the fae.

His amber eyes widened. "The fae?"

If ... what you are is because of your grandmother’s fae blood, then maybe the fae could help us?

He shook his head, disbelieving. You think I should take a jaunt into the mountains and tell my deepest secret to the fae? To our enemies?

"The fae aren’t our