Read an extract from Wooing the Witch Queen by Stephanie Burgis
Queen Saskia is the wicked sorceress everyone fears. After successfully wrestling the throne from her evil uncle, she only wants one thing: to keep her people safe from the empire next door. For that, she needs to spend more time in her laboratory experimenting with her spells. She definitely doesn’t have time to bring order to her chaotic library of magic.
When a mysterious dark wizard arrives at her castle, Saskia hires him as her new librarian on the spot. ‘Fabian’ is sweet and a little nerdy, and his requests seem a little strange – what in the name of Divine Elva is a fountain pen? – but he’s getting the job done. And if he writes her flirtatious poetry and his innocent touch makes her skin singe, well…
Little does Saskia know that the ‘wizard’ she’s falling for is actually an Imperial archduke in disguise, with no magical training whatsoever. On the run, he’s in danger from Saskia’s enemies and her new-found allies, too. So when Saskia finally discovers the truth, will their love save them – or be their doom?
READ AN EXTRACT FROM WOOING THE WITCH QUEEN
At Kadaric Castle, deep in the wild, uncivilized Kitvarian Mountains
Four nights later
What you don’t seem to understand,” said the witch of Kadaric Castle, without looking up from the glittering silver powder that she was carefully measuring into a copper tube, “is that this is a highly inconvenient evening for a dark wizard to turn up. You know what they’re like, Morlokk—all ominous glowering and puffs of smoke and noisy incantations. They’re so desperate for attention, the first few days of any visit are always fatal to my work. Now that we’re finally finished with all of that tedious fighting, I’m in the middle of a particularly interesting experiment—”
“And yet,” said her majordomo, “the fact remains, Your Majesty, that a man in an all-enveloping cloak is currently on the road approaching our castle, clearly in answer to the advertisement that you directed me to place when we took over your uncle’s library. And if you recall any of the tantrums that other wizards have thrown in the past when they did not receive what they termed a proper welcome to our last home…”
The witch, Saskia, winced, her fingers stilling mid-measure. “Oh, yes, I do recall. The front hall…and the library…and the kitchen, too, wasn’t it, last time?”
“Our last keep and its inhabitants,” pronounced Morlokk, “eventually recovered from every incident we faced. We shall continue to persevere in this castle when required. However, we would all prefer to avoid any more such unnecessary calamities…if you think it possible.” It was difficult for an ogre to look wry; their craggy faces weren’t built for subtlety. But Morlokk had been Saskia’s majordomo for years, and he had never yet shied from a challenge.
“I see.” Saskia gave one last, wistful look at the closed beaker full of bubbling green liquid that she’d been just about to unstop for the next step of her project. “Well, you’d better show him in as soon as he arrives, then.”
“…Mmm?” One bushy green eyebrow rose meaningfully.
Saskia followed his gaze across her outfit: the comfortably worn old grey gown covered by a sensible apron, itself covered with stains from old experiments, and a cheerful purple handkerchief that held her long, thick hair out of danger’s way.
She liked that handkerchief. It had been sewn for her by a wickedly bawdy old goblin chieftain last year. She thought it looked quite well against her pitch-black hair and pale skin.
She sighed, though, as she accepted the inevitability. “You’re right, of course. As usual.” Shaking her head, she stepped back from the lectern where she kept her notes.“I’ll be ready in a quarter of an hour. If you could prepare the entrance chamber?”
“I’ll start the skulls boiling now,” said Morlokk, and he bowed his way out of the room, letting the heavy wooden door fall shut behind him.
Saskia’s shoulders sagged as she trudged towards the door at the opposite side of the room, leaving behind all of her lovely, smelly, interesting magic to prepare herself to overawe yet another tedious wizard.
Really, if she’d known how much protocol was involved in being a famously wicked queen, she might never have overthrown her uncle in the first place.
The first sign that Felix was nearing his destination came when a line of skulls suddenly burst into flames directly ahead of him. Green fire belched from open eye sockets and gaping jaws all along the winding road. It led high up the mountain to a massive, shadowy castle in the distance, finally lit now by those wildly leaping flames.
It was an intensely unnerving sight. But in the last four days, Felix had faced so many unnerving new discoveries that he was almost—almost—inured to any shock.
He’d been so lucky—suspiciously lucky!—in his escape from the archducal palace that he’d spent the first day of his journey unable to stop peering over the shoulder of the all-enveloping hooded black cloak that he’d scavenged from the depths of his wardrobe as his only, paltry means of disguise. Why hadn’t anyone caught him on his stealthy way out? Was this all a trap?
Of course, he hadn’t dared show himself in the archducal stables, and without any coins, he couldn’t hire a horse for his journey, either. Incredibly, though, Felix had found a mare grazing unattended in a farmer’s field, only four hours’ walk from Estaviel City. Guilt had nearly choked him at the theft, but desperation had won the internal battle.
He’d find a way to repay that farmer one day. He would. And with luck, that sweet mare would have found her way home by now, too…because no matter how desperate he might have become, Felix wasn’t cruel enough to risk her life with his in the terrifying, thirty-foot-high wall of rippling magic he’d found waiting for him on the Kitvarian border.
It was that impossible sight that had brought home the reality of his destination. As he’d stared at that eerily rippling line of air before him, stretching across the horizon to both sides, every hair on Felix’s arms had stood up with prickling awareness.
Over the years, he’d seen more than one public demonstration of strength performed by Gilded Wizards in the Serafin Empire’s service—but even when three or four of those highly trained wizards worked together, not one of their demonstrations neared this level of power. Yet the notorious Witch Queen of Kitvaria had famously created this on her own.
How could any mortal hold so much magic in her body? And how could anyone stand against her?
Leaving the mare behind, he’d stepped through her creation with his eyes held fatalistically wide open, prepared to accept whatever came.
What he’d actually found on the other side was three hulking, moss-covered trolls with five-foot clubs lying in wait for any would-be invaders. They, too, had formed an overwhelming sight—the first magical creatures he’d ever seen outside of books, clearly prepared to enact brutal violence upon him, just as every warning pamphlet in the Empire claimed—but the fact that they waved him on after a cursory look at his black cloak had stunned him even more.
He supposed the fact that he wasn’t carrying a weapon must have been proven when he’d crossed through the barrier. Still, he’d expected, at the very least, a demand for his intentions before they allowed him to safely pass into their kingdom. Instead, they voluntarily offered up gruff directions to the queen’s own castle before he could even ask that question.
It was almost as if they’d been expecting him – which would have worried him far more if he hadn’t already been floating in a haze of disbelief, sleeplessness, and surreality.
How could all of this have been so easy?
He’d tried to escape so many times when he was young. He’d made such careful, detailed plans everytime, only to be thwarted, again and again, until he’d finally learned better. The Count was always waiting, always ready, impossible ever to defeat…
So it had been almost eight years since the last time he’d even tried. After that last attempt, he had finally given in, his back in shreds, his voice hoarse with screams, and his chest suffused with a despair so deep, it felt almost like relief. If there was nothing left to hope for, he’d thought, then at least there was nothing left to fear.
How many years ago had the Count finally relaxed his guard? The bitterness of that question could have brought him to his knees. But the sloping mountain path that led to Kadaric Castle was far too narrow and rocky to risk any stumbles. It was, in fact, an absurdly impractical place to seat the center of any government—even Felix knew that much. But then, the sort of person who greeted her visitors with flaming skulls probably didn’t care what anyone else thought of her decisions.
According to the stories he’d heard, Queen Saskia not only delighted in surrounding herself with vicious, inhuman monsters—she was one herself and always had been.
By the time he reached the final pair of skulls, Felix wasn’t even surprised to see the great black wooden doors swing open before him without a single servant in sight. The flaring green light from the skulls sent lurid streaks into the darkness of the entry hall beyond.
The only magic ever allowed in any of the twelve archduchies that made up the Serafin Empire was carefully leashed Gilded Wizardry, kept safe for the nonmagical citizens through rigorous, lifelong Imperial training and strictly enforced regulations. Before he’d crossed into Kitvaria, Felix had never seen a nonhuman creature in his life. Until today, he couldn’t have imagined the sight before him.
But the only way to guarantee his own survival was to secure the patronage of a ruler more powerful than the Count—and he could only pray that Queen Saskia’s enmity with his tormentor would convince her to grant him shelter in this kingdom, so famously full of all manner of magical horrors and misfits.
If she decided to feed him to her monstrous friends instead? Well…
Felix lifted his head and squared his shoulders beneath his cloak. At least, for once—no matter what happened next—his father-in-law wouldn’t have the satisfaction of deciding his fate.
Felix took his life into his own hands for the first time in far too long and stepped into the gaping hole of the castle entrance.
Wooing the Witch Queen is published by Tor on 17 February 2025
