Magic Exchange: A Supernatural Academy Romance (The Velkin Royal Academy Series Book 1)

by Emmeline Winter

  “Yes.”

  That answer hung in the air. I was ready to kill humans, yes...but only if they’d actually done something wrong. If they were plotting to overthrow our father and destroy our nation from the inside, then and only then would I ever raise my sword against them. But murdering them in cold blood off of a hunch...Murdering our parents....It didn’t sound like Adric. And it certainly wasn’t anything that Tormin or I were going to get ourselves involved in. Our parents were imperfect, yes, as all parents were. And when I was King, Father wouldn’t be able to argue with me over the best policy with which to deal with the humans. But...murder them? No.

  Tormin, apparently, agreed with my sentiment.

  “You truly are mad,” he muttered, peeling himself off the couch in disgust and striding towards the marble flooring in front of the fireplace, which he often used as his own pacing grounds. Adric scoffed.

  “It’s madness to want to protect our world from a dangerous force? Anatole, I know that you agree with me. Don’t deny it.”

  To deny it would be lying. I could lie to my classmates, lie to the humans, but I found that I could never bring myself to lie to my brothers. I just had to be diplomatic with the truth, hanging in the balance between them.

  “I do agree. But…” I searched for some common ground between them, anything that would bridge the cavern I was about to fall into unless I chose a side…And without evidence against the humans, choosing a side was proving next to impossible. “What about mother?”

  “What about her?” Adric asked.

  “We know how you feel about father, but could you kill mother just to preemptively slaughter some humans before they attack us?”

  “…Mother would see the error of her ways. She would come to her senses before it came to violence with her.”

  That settled in the air like poison. Mostly because I knew he didn’t mean it. Mother would never side with a war against the humans. She’d always been such a loving, good person, even to her enemies or people who’d rather see her dead than Queen. She had a heart bigger than our entire universe. She’d rather die than be party to a slaughter, and we all knew that Adric would rather kill her than see his plans thwarted again.

  I tried not to think about that too closely. After all, Adric was in exile, one protected by magic as deep as the Velkin seas themselves. There would be no escaping his captivity unless I got on the throne and ordered it, which I’d never do if I thought he had any intention of hurting our mother.

  When Tormin spoke again, his voice was tight and filled with thinly veiled disappointment. He didn’t even look at the projection of our brother anymore, didn’t even try to look as if he still cared for him. “We can’t be communicating like this anymore. We have responsibilities to maintain peace. And you, Adric, are a direct threat to it.”

  “Brothers. Always thinking they know best. Anatole, what do you think about our communicating? You’ll be king one day, after all. If anyone could decide to welcome me back into the fold of the family, it’s you.”

  Diplomacy. I had to play the diplomatic solution. Even when I had no idea what my heart really wanted. In truth, I wanted neither of them. I didn't want Tormin’s passivity or Adric’s unchecked, unbridled rage, but standing in the middle ground between them was exhausting.

  “I appreciate your council, brother. So does Tormin.”

  Tormin didn’t appreciate that. Not in the slightest. “I’m going to get a drink. Neither of you are invited to join me.”

  A moment later, he was gone, disappeared into the shadows of the doorway. Once his footsteps thundered down the hall, Adric spoke again.

  “He isn’t doing well. The humans must be getting to him.”

  “They aren’t so terrible.”

  “Not so terrible? Oh, brother, they’re getting to you too.”

  “I am protecting our people. Don’t think that I am not.”

  “You aren’t protecting them enough.”

  A lick of fire flared up the back of my neck. “Why? Because I didn’t send a dragon into their midst and ruin any chance we might have had at actually ruling over them and destroying their threat before it was allowed to fester and infect our world?”

  “I was trying to do what was best. What you didn’t have the courage to do.”

  “I will have the courage to destroy anyone who tries to destroy Velkin,” I swore.

  But Adric wasn't convinced. “Too late. There’s one already in your midst.”

  Chapter Seven

  Carolyn

  I don’t know what I expected the queen of Velkin to be like. Her husband seemed a nice enough guy— at least nice enough to give a pretty decent welcoming speech on our first day in the castle—but considering that her son and everyone he seemed to hang out with were total duds, I guess I expected her to be one too. But she wasn’t. In fact she was so unlike her son that for the first twenty minutes or so of us being together the question, “so are you and Anatole actually related” danced on the tip of my tongue.

  But by the time we reached her office in the Academy Castle, a cozy little corner of the western turret overlooking the lake I’d seen last night, overstuffed with lush pillows and charms hanging from the ceiling that caught the light and danced in even the slightest of breezes, that wasn’t the most important question on my mind any longer. Instead, I wanted to know everything else about her, answers she was apparently more than happy to give.

  “I teach witchcraft and The Sight. I help students to hone their gift for telling the future. It’s not the most glamorous of jobs a queen could ever ask for, but it’s the one I like best. Nothing irritates me more than when my husband asks me to plan a dinner party or schedule a summit. Give me a crystal ball and a cup of tea leaves any day. Speaking of...” She picked a teapot off of the roaring fireplace behind her, displaying the metallic kettle of hot water for my inspection, as casually as if I’d come here for an afternoon chat instead of after being rescued from a cold bathroom floor. If she was weirded out by the fact that my clothes were ripped to shreds and she could see most of my bare skin, she didn’t mention it. But I was thoroughly freaked by the whole thing. My eyes scanned the perimeters of the room, searching for anything that could salvage this perfectly humiliating moment.

  “Um... I’m actually not sure. I don’t know if I can.... I mean...Do you think I could borrow a robe or a towel or something?”

  “Oh, you poor dear! Yes of course! Here.” A flourish of her magical wrist and a soft, silk robe descended onto my shoulders. I slid my arms in gratefully and wrapped the fabric tight around my body, hugging it to myself. Was it the magic that made the sleeves so warm and cozy and made it feel as if she’d just pulled it out of the dryer? Or was I just projecting things based on the fact that my own mother had never shown me a simple kindness like that before? Even the woman’s silvery eyes were soft and warm as she took a seat in a well-worn leather armchair inlaid with a gold rune design I didn’t recognize. She offered me the seat across the hearth from her, and I took it.

  “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

  “No,” I snapped. I wasn’t a snitch. But then, I remembered who I was talking to. A fairy Queen. And from all the storybooks I’d read as a kind, most of them were of the I’ll-turn-you-into-a-mouse-and-throw-you-into-a-rushing-River temperament. I ducked my head and corrected myself. Queen Freia didn’t seem like the type, but I couldn’t afford to make anymore Velkin enemies. “I mean, no thank you, your Majesty.”

  “You can tell me, you know. I won’t...Oh, what’s that human expression? The cute one? Oh, yes, I won’t rat you out.”

  “Did my roommate teach you that expression?”

  “Krya? Oh, no. She is certainly an expert on human parlance and culture, which is exactly why I chose her to be your guide, but no. She didn’t teach me that precious turn of phrase. My son did.”

  The fact that she chose Kyra as my guide was news to me, but I almost spit in shock at the revelation that Anatole knew anythin
g about humans, much less the phrase rat you out, took precedence as far as shock was concerned. My jaw dropped.

  “Anatole taught you that?”

  “Demon’s ghost, no! Anatole despises humans. No, it was my youngest son, Tormin, who teaches me most of the human expressions that I know. He’s quite a keen learner where your culture is concerned.”

  I grumbled before I could hold the words back, a knee-jerk reaction to learning that there was at least one Royal son that didn’t completely hate the entire human race. Instinctively, I tightened the robe around me, as if it could defend me against Anatole and his stinging stares. “I bet I’d like him more than I like Anatole.”

  “You may say that now, but everything can change. Especially here in Velkin.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  At some point, even when you’re trapped in the middle of an enchanted fairy land that accidentally started a war by dropping a dragon into the middle of Manhattan, everyone gets tired of being talked to in riddles. Between Kyra and Anatole and the elven brat pack and now the Queen herself, I’d had more than enough mystical mumbo-jumbo to last me a lifetime. I knew snapping at the leader of a scary fairy land where I had no chance of escaping unless someone took pity and opened the gap between universes for me was probably not my best choice of tactic, but I didn’t care. The ghost of my conversation with Anatole last night—the way his voice chilled me to the bone but his eyes sparked every one of my nerve endings with fire—mixed with the cruelty of the elves in the bathroom this morning until I couldn’t see straight for all of the conflicting feelings warring for my attention.

  Queen Freia pursed her lips and tugged at a loose string on one of her intricate weavings hanging from the ceiling. The delicate lace looped into intricate starlight patterns reminded me of a spider’s web. It looked delicate, but I could imagine it was stronger than it appeared.

  “It’s about why I brought you here. We need to discuss your acceptance to the Velkin Royal Academy.”

  My stomach dropped. My vision tunneled. There was only one clear reason I could see for the queen of an entire kingdom for pulling me into her private office for a confidential talk. I’d always suspected that them accepting me into the Velkin exchange program was a mistake. I mean...the rest of the people chosen were the children of statesmen and emperors and queens. I was a nobody from nowhere, a nothing just like they’d said.

  This had to be the moment where Queen Freia told me that I had to go back to my old life, back to my old school, and back to my mother. Before I could stop them, anxious, hot tears welled up in my eyes. I tried not to let them fall, but the thought of being tossed back onto that couch in my mother’s apartment...It broke me.

  “It was a mistake, wasn’t it? Oh, God, I knew it had to be a mistake. Why would the magic people want someone as ordinary as me? A nobody like me. Shit. I knew this is how it would end—”

  “Oh, but my dear! It isn’t ending. It’s only just beginning.”

  Queen Freia’s hand reached out and touched mine, her cool skin and the cool metal of her elegant collection of rings and overlapping bracelets settling the boiling beneath my skin. Her voice was so kind, so compassionate, that I still couldn’t believe she was at all related to Anatole. I sniffled.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I received your application in the post just like all of the others. And I read it and considered it and was mulling it over when Anatole came in. He was livid, so angry that I was spending my time on the peace between our peoples instead of focusing on Velkin. And then, he picked up your paper out of the thousands of other ones in the entire pile. And do you know what happened then? The very instant his fingers touched the page?”

  It burst into flame because he hated me so much? A flock of ravens came in and snatched the paper and threw it into an active volcano? None of the answers coming to mind seemed like what she was fishing for, so I settled for a shrug.

  “No.”

  “I had a vision.”

  The Queen could have visions? Was that something that all of the elves could do or was she just special? I knew that they were all gifted in certain kinds of magic, but...could they all really tell the future? I wasn’t sure how I felt about Anatole having the ability to see into my life to come. Swallowing back my torrent of questions, I leaned forward in my chair, still clutching the robe tightly to my body as if it could protect me from what she was about to say.

  “A vision of what?”

  “I can’t say. Telling the subject of a vision what their futures hold could alter everything. It could ruin what I’ve seen, prevent it from happening. But suffice to say that this vision, should it come true, could change the very course of fate for both of our peoples. The power is in your hands, my darling. And I know things seem bleak right now. I understand that you have enemies within these walls and that they would do anything to destroy you. But you must be strong. And...I’m afraid that I must beg you to give my son a chance.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I knew a scam when I saw one. Even in an alternate realm with strange rules and customs and creatures, the act was the same. Play on a person’s vulnerabilities and fears and desire to mean something, to make a difference, and you’ll have them like putty in your hands.

  Well, I wasn’t so easily fooled. And the Queen wasn’t going to pull one over on me; poor, pathetic human girl or not. Shooting to my feet, I snapped up the ties of the robe and tightened them across my body, fully ready to storm out the moment I saw the chance. “What? What is this, some kind of weird dating service? You fake a prophecy to make me care about your son?”

  The kind face of the Queen settled into something hard and regal. She wasn’t angry, but she was stressing the gravity of the situation, a gravity I couldn’t deny the moment I got caught in her steely, silver-blue gaze. “I can assure you that it’s real. It’s all real. And you can choose to hate him and despise him and never speak to him again if you wish. I know he doesn’t deserve a second chance. But if he earns one, I hope that you do try and see him clearly.”

  “I see him clearly now. He’s an asshole. A total bully. And I hate bullies.”

  “I don’t expect you to forgive him. At least not yet.”

  “Well, that’s a relief. Because he hates my guts. He’s never going to try and earn a second chance from someone he hates.”

  “You might be surprised. Try to keep an open mind.”

  I might be surprised? I wouldn’t be surprised. I’d be shocked. Dumbfounded. Bowled over. Whatever other much worse synonyms there were for surprise that she’d conveniently neglected. I’d probably have a heart attack and die from the shock. It took every ounce of my energy and self-control not to laugh in her face at the very suggestion that Anatole would ever seek forgiveness. Even if I wasn’t human, even if I wasn’t me, someone he seemed to hate without even having a single decent conversation with, Anatole wasn’t the kind who asked permission or forgiveness. And the idea of him trying to earn forgiveness was even more laughable.

  But then it occurred to me that there were only two options before me. This woman was totally blind to her own child, the future king of her own land...Or she knew something that I didn’t know, something about the future.

  In spite of everything my instincts were telling me, I swallowed my pride... and my better judgement. If—and only if—Anatole tried to actually make any effort in the “being a decent person” category, then sure. I’d try to forgive him.

  “Okay. I’ll try. But not for him. For you.”

  Without warning, Queen Freia rose from her chair and wrapped her arms around me, holding me fast to her soft chest. Even through the fabric of her gown and robes, I could feel her heartbeat pounding against my breastbone. The fight-or-flight reflexes I’d spent years honing in my mother’s care told me to run from this place as fast as I could, but the steady rhythm of her heartbeat and the gentle, radiating warmth of her body slowly but surely coaxed my body into stillness. Int
o peace. And somewhere in the depths of my soul, I knew that she wasn’t going to hurt me. Not like my mother hand hurt me. Not like I feared she would, sending me into Anatole’s arms only to be destroyed by him.

  I hugged her back. I couldn’t help it. Not even I, afraid of touch and petrified of being close to someone else, could hold back with Freia’s arms around me and her scent of tuberose and something magical dizzying my senses.

  “I’m glad the magic chose you, Miss Carolyn Connors,” she whispered.

  Oh, God. I was shaking. My entire body shivered at the sudden weight settling in upon my shoulders, the weight of her expectations, of someone actually caring about me and what happened to me. I’d never been wanted before, never been liked, much less loved. I wasn’t entirely sure how to handle it. After years of hating myself and thinking everyone else would for the rest of my life, I didn’t know how to thank her for believing in me. “I don’t know why it did. I’m nothing special.”

  “Oh, no. You’re very special indeed. You just don’t know it yet.”

  Chapter Eight

  Anatole

  As part of the “exchange” aspect of our cultural connection with the Earthlings suddenly invading our school, every Velkin student had been given a manual and instruction book on Earth customs and lifestyle, the kind of surface-level guide that was meant to make us all moderately more comfortable in their presence. The humans, as I understand it, had been give a similar book on Velkin culture, but based on the way most of them behaved, I can’t imagine any of them had actually taken the time to read it. But, as I sat down to dinner with my parents, as the orange sun bloodied a darkened sky in the East, announcing the arrival of the night, I couldn’t help but wonder if humans experienced this kind of awakened dread that tore through me every time I approached my family for dinner. Was the gnawing, sharp-toothed anxiety of going under the parental microscope a universal one? It had to be, right? I couldn’t be the only one in the universe who could balance a kingdom on the end of a string in one hand while the idea of seeing my parents in a confined setting made my other palm sweat.