Free The Witch's Reward by Liz McCraine

their large, canopied bed.
    As with everything else in the room, the bed was beautifully detailed, the canopy and thick, rich covers done in gold and green—the royal colors of the kingdom. The woman seated on the edge of its deep, feather-stuffed mattress was no less well turned out, with her thick blond hair pulled into a complicated twist and her dress made of the finest silk, its deep green bringing out the color in her hazel eyes.
    Steffan had loved Lissa since he was a child, when her father, an ambassador from the kingdom of Trigden, had visited regularly during the summers on matters of state business. They had shared many a glance across the long banquet table, silently communicating their boredom at their parents’ political conversations and longing to be outside where the air was fresh and sweet. When the meals ended, his father unfailingly asked Steffan to take responsibility for the younger girl and show her around the palace while he concluded his business.
    And there was always business with the ambassador. 
    Trigden neighbored Aggadorn just north of the Krymean Mountains. And since the two kingdoms shared the same coastline, which ran from the south of Aggadorn up and around the western side of the continent, the ambassador was sent regularly to discuss free trade agreements, problems with piracy, alliances, and more.
    It was pure luck that a betrothal agreement for the two youngsters was signed. And as the ambassador came back each year to speak with King Gaston, Steffan grew deeper and deeper in love with the pretty girl with forest-colored eyes and a dimpled smile. She was the one person who truly understood Steffan, who knew his thoughts and desires, who had always been there for him. She had been present when he first struggled with his father’s ruling against witches, and she was present now to help him through his current predicament.
    “I’ve just had some of that Signon tea. I swear, sometimes it is the only thing that stops this indigestion of mine,” he replied, continuing his pacing.
    “I do wish you would seek out the medical advice of someone from Trigden. We have excellent healers there, and this stomach issue has gone on long enough,” she advised.
    Steffan knew she was right. The stomachaches had begun a couple of weeks ago. They were infrequent at first, and only slightly painful. He originally thought he was suffering from indigestion, but as they grew in strength and frequency, he began to suspect it was no little problem. A cup of Signon tea would temporarily relieve the symptoms, but otherwise the pain continued to be a problem. If he didn’t feel better after this matter with the witch was resolved, he would send for someone. Some of the best healers in the world came from Trigden, particularly from the cities near the Krymean Mountains.
    “Now,” said Lissa, without looking up from her embroidery, “tell me why you are wearing out our beautiful hardwood floor. I just had those boards polished.”             
    “It’s this matter with the witch. It’s just one more thing, on top of everything else. We’ve got carnies appearing in small groups on the east and killing innocent people, pirates attacking my merchant ships any time they travel too far to the south, and now, years after my father is dead, I have to clean up his mess. Everyone thinks Aggadorn is a great place—and it is! The people are peaceful and law-abiding, the kingdom is wealthy, we have an abundance of natural resources…”
    “And you’re complaining because…?”
    He shot her a disgruntled look. “I’m not complaining.”
    “Certainly you are. But that’s okay; so long as it’s me you’re complaining to. And I understand, I really do. Being a king is hard work.”
    “It’s just that this situation with the witch—”
    The queen’s hands stopped weaving the yellow silk thread and she looked up. “I can’t imagine why discovering a witch is all that serious. I mean, yes,