The Vampire & Her Witch
Chapter 451: Pride Comes Before the Fall

Chapter 451: Pride Comes Before the Fall

Sitting in Owain’s lap made the meal somewhat awkward, especially when a certain appendage made its presence not so subtly known. At a certain size, some things were simply impossible to ignore, and when Jocelynn realized that it wasn’t the hilt of Owain’s dagger that pressed up against her thigh, she had to suppress a deeply satisfied smile at the knowledge of the effect she was having on the man she would soon marry.

For now, however, she adjusted her position to face him more directly, one arm draped casually around his broad shoulders while she did her best to outline her plans to exploit the Hanrahan Barony’s weaknesses in order to entice the Guild Masters into accepting grants of land at the edges of the Barony.

"Baron Ian Hanrahan hasn’t expanded his holdings by more than a few fields of weat in all the years he’s been baron," Jocelynn explained, shifting slightly in Owains lap and drawing a shuddering breath from him in response as her thigh pressed up against what certainly wasn’t the hilt of his dagger.

"He’s been riding high on the gains from your father’s campaign against Airegead Mountain from before I was even born," she continued, pretending not to notice the effect she was having on him as she stretched to reach her own cup of wine, revealing the expanse of her pale bosom in the process. "But his treasury is dwindling every year, and he doesn’t have much to offer to his son Bastian beyond a lack of debts."

"You don’t have to look further than my Steward Hugo to understand that the Hanrahans are soft," Owain snorted, fighting to maintain his focus on the conversation while Jocelynn squirmed in his lap. "His brother barely survived falling off his own horse for light’s sake!"

"They get by because the cat demons rarely leave their mountain," Jocelynn said, sharing the opinion she’d formed after listening to the gossip from the other ladies of the Lothian court. Despite turning thirty, Bastian Hanrahan remained unmarried, and he wasn’t known to have collected any trophies from slaying the fiercely predatory cat-like demons who stalked the wilderness of Airgead Mountain as though it was their private hunting preserve.

Because he made for such a pathetic seeming heir, there were persistent rumors that the Hanrahan Barony would be stripped from their family after the next war in order to reward some new generation of heroes who would fight more aggressively to expand the march.

None of the other barons were willing to gamble their daughters, even if they were second or third daughters, on a house they felt was doomed to fall in the next few years. A few aging knights had made the attempt to offer their daughters, but Baron Hanrahan seemed offended at the notion of his heir ’marrying down’, creating a situation that was increasingly grim for the Hanrahan family. It was no wonder they tried hitching their cart to Owain’s horses, sending their bastard Hugo to serve as his Steward in the hopes that it would earn enough of the future Marquis’s favor to change their fate.

"The Hanrahans lack industry," Jocelynn explained, tracing a finger lightly along the lower edge of Owain’s pectoral muscle as though it marked the boundary of the Hanrahan’s terrain. "Even if Airgead Mountain is beyond their domain," she added, tracing her finger briefly across the firm nipple that crowned his powerful chest like a summit to be conquered.

"They still have opportunities to mine more common ores in the western hills," she said, tracing her hand back lower. "But they’re too frightened to do it. They clear-cut the lumber from the hills years ago, but ever since then, the land lays all but untouched," she said, resting her hand on his firm muscles as if to encompass all of the available lands.

"There’s a good reason to be frightened," Owain pointed out, tapping Jocelynn on the nose before his hand snaked around her waist, pulling her body up close against his chest as he lowered his head to whisper directly in her ear.

"The Crimson Knight who dwells on Airgead Mountain," he said solemnly, as if telling a ghost story. "It’s said that he can tear a man’s breastplate clean in two and that he dyes his arm red with the blood of his victims. An undying vampire knight who slaughters anyone who tries to dwell near the mountain isn’t something easy to ignore, and no one has been able to drive this demon back to the Vale of Mists that it crawled out of for decades. "

"That’s why it’s important to get Master Isabell’s help," Jocelynn explained, shivering at both the terrifying image Owain’s words conjured and the feeling of his hot breath against the fine hairs of her neck. "Not everyone is as brave and strong as you to face demons like the Crimson Knight in direct battle. But you said she drew up plans for a fortified mining camp," she said, pulling back slightly to look at Owain’s heroic visage in the flickering light of the room’s oil lamps. "Hanrahan Barony is the perfect place for her to prove that it can work before the war begins."

"But Jocelynn, my sweet little pear," Owain said, pinching her waist. Her face was so serious and earnest that he couldn’t help but find her adorable, even if some of her thoughts were ones that he’d already tried and failed with. "The guild masters won’t accept the lands in the western hills. They called them ’speculative gains at best’ and ’little better than promises of gold and jewels from a demon-infested mountain.’ They won’t accept those lands."

"And we won’t offer them to them," Jocelynn said with a coy smile. "We’ll offer them lands along the western road, as far to the east of the Barony as possible. Far enough that they might as well be out of Baron Hanrahan’s domain. But it needs to be a large parcel of land, two or three times the size of what you could offer near Lothian City."

"She won’t budge," Owain said. "She’s too proud of her skills as an engineer, and that Tiernan fellow follows her around like a pecked hen, doing whatever she says unless it relates to mining and smelting or forging. She says that as masters of their trades, they need to stay close to the city and its people."

"I remember from your letters," Jocelynn purred, picking up a bit of sausage from Owain’s plate and playfully feeding it to him. "But I think she hasn’t heard the message the right way. We just need to show her the lands and blame it on your father’s insistence. Then, Baron Hanrahan can make a big show during the reception banquet of apologizing for wasting her time because he knows it’s impossible for any engineer, but especially a woman like her, to accomplish what your father is demanding."

"You want Baron Hanrahan to insult her? Do you really know this woman?" Owain said, looking at Jocelynn with a puzzled frown. "Do you have any idea how sharp her tongue is when she feels slighted?"

"Of course I do," Jocelynn said with a playful wink, her seafoam eyes sparkling with mischief. "You said she’s proud didn’t you? Just explain things to Sir Hugo and make sure his father is ready to act as your foil. Baron Hanrahan will do anything to strengthen his barony, even if it means taking in a few ’knights’ that are really just promoted tradesmen, especially when you tell him that besides these two, you want to grant lands to a Master Weaponsmith and Master Armorer. He’ll be falling all over himself to make a deal with these merchants."

"Doesn’t your plan seem a little backwards then?" Owain asked, puzzled by the young woman’s circular reasoning. "If he’s eager, why would he insult them? It doesn’t seem like a good way to get what he wants."

"Trust me, my brave hero," Jocelynn said, running a finger down the center of his chest. "When you insult a woman like Master Isabell and tell her that no man could do something, much less a woman, all you need to do is give her a chance to prove you wrong, and she’ll leap into the trap you’ve set. That’s why you, my dear, need to be the voice of reason who can offer that chance while securing her interests with lands in the rear of Hanrahan barony...

Owain was skeptical at first, but the more Jocelynn spoke, the more convinced he became. He’d pushed too hard on the intractable merchants, and like stubborn mules, they’d dug in their heels and refused to budge. Now, Jocelynn was offering a way to use their pride and business sense against them and, best of all, even if Master Isabell ’proved them wrong’ by building a fortified mine, the only lands he’d need to give away belonged to Baron Hanrahan.

It would never work on an ambitious and calculating man like Liam Dunn’s father, who could already expand his lands through his own military capabilities. But for a weak man like Baron Ian Hanrahan, at the end of his rule, a last gamble to pass on something better to his son and secure it against vultures might just work.

The details needed work, and there were preparations to be made, but as Owain put the pieces together, he realized that it didn’t matter even if none of it worked. He’d said that he would deal with his father, one way or another, and this trip would give him a convenient excuse to take Jocelynn on a trip to the countryside, conveniently removing them from Lothian City while his other plans had a chance to unfold...

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