by J. M. Kearl
We smiled at one another and hurried to our room. I threw myself on the soft bed and looked up at the ceiling, noticing for the first time that it had been spelled to look like the outside sky. The clouds even moved, and a set of birds soared.
Already unpacking her trunk, Legacy took out a handful of clothes. “Do you think there will be dances here with all the students?”
“That would be fun,” I said watching a “v” of geese fly across our ceiling. “How many students do you think are here?”
“Well, in Delmar there were seven hundred, so I’d guess about the same. Maybe more with three kingdoms attending.”
We talked and put our things away until a cat strutted through the small opening beside the door. “Good day, ladies,” the long-haired, snowy white cat with shockingly green eyes said. “I am Atticus, and will be your attending cat. If you should need anything, I am quite often nearby.”
Back in Delhoon our cat was usually Ophelia. Apparently she didn’t come with us.
“Hello, Atticus,” I said. “You’re beautiful, if you don’t mind my saying.”
“Oh, I do enjoy a good compliment,” he said and flicked his tail. “You two are both nice-looking humans.” He hopped up onto my bed. “You must be the princess.”
With a smile, I said, “I am. My name is—”
“Visteal, I am aware.” He looked across the room at Legacy. “And you are?” His slightly disparaging tone wasn’t missed. As if he wasn’t impressed after meeting me, the princess. This behavior was typical of a cat, I doubt my cousin was offended.
“I’m Legacy.”
Atticus tilted his head. “Well, with a name like that, your parents must have high expectations for you. I hope you can live up to the task.”
“You and me both,” she said with a chuckle.
“You will find your schedules should arrive at any moment.”
As if he’d conjured them himself, two envelopes slid under the door. Closest, Legacy picked them up, and handed me the one with my name on it. I peeled it open and read:
Class schedule for Visteal Magnevera Exavior
Fifth year spells—Professor Tessam
Leadership—Professor Gilfor
History and Customs of Collweya—Professor Hardock
Advanced Swords—Professor Magnevera. Which would either be my Papa or Madison.
War Strategy—Professor Kyndel. This class was only for students who wished to have a place in the military leadership. Someone who aspired to be a warlord or an apprentice of a warlord or in my case, a queen.
Advanced Nordan Language—Professor Fero. I was already fluent in Heshan which was what they spoke in both Collweya and Hesstia. Nordia was south of us, an outlaw land with many different dialects depending on the region.
My eyes fell to the next line and my heart seized a little seeing the next Professor...
Magical History—Professor Deg
“I can’t escape him. He’s like a mosquito that won’t die and keeps coming back for blood.”
Legacy chuckled. “Who?”
“I’m guessing you don’t have professor Deg for magical history.” I couldn’t keep the disdain from my voice.
“Nope—Professor Vertue. Sorry Vis.” She held her schedule next to mine. “Do we have any classes together?”
I scanned her list and was a little disappointed. “We have War Strategy together. That’s it.” Back home we had three classes together.
Legacy frowned for a moment then pulled a smile. “We’ll see each other during breaks and after classes plenty.”
I folded the schedule and put it in my pocket and continued putting my things away.
The cat, Atticus hopped down from the bed and sauntered toward the door. “It is time to meet in the foyer. From there you will be shown to the grand dining hall.”
Nervous butterflies bounced around in my stomach. It was not as if I hadn’t met up in a dining hall with hundreds of students before but the anticipation of seeing and meeting the students from the other kingdoms was nerve-wracking. Would we get along? And then there was the thought of seeing Zyacus, Hesstia’s scrawny little prince. Four years ago, he constantly made fun of my freckles and acted like he and I didn’t belong in the same room. Which was ridiculous considering how awkward his voice sounded and the pimples on his face. I wanted to throat punch him but my father told me to play nice. This time Father wasn’t around to stop me from showing the prince who he messed with.
The Delhoon students gathered outside the dining hall; in total there looked to be a little over three hundred of us. I spotted Taz and waved at him. He pushed through the crowd and grinning, said, “Want to take bets on when the first fight happens?”
“If there’s a fight, it will be between the fool prince and me.”
“You’re not still upset about the last time you saw him, are you?” Legacy asked with a laugh. “It’s been what, three or four years?”
I folded my arms. “You’ll understand when you meet him.”
“This way!” A professor shouted and the group filed into the dining hall. He led our group to the furthest set of two very long tables with benches. They were large enough to hold all three hundred of us. Without being in any particular order, everyone seemed to gather themselves by year without being told.
Loud chatter filled the room as we waited for the other kingdoms to arrive. Within minutes the doors opened and we all turned to see who arrived next. Their uniforms were green, black, and gray—Collweya. The dragon donned on their chests would give that away if the colors hadn’t. I didn’t recognize any of them but they watched us as curiously as we watched them. The color of their hair varied but one common trait among each of them was the paleness of their complexion. Their people lived in a land of consistent cold and snow, where the sun couldn’t bronze their skin.
Once they were seated, the doors opened and more students filed in. Their uniforms were solid blue but for the gold swords insignia placed over their hearts.
I didn’t know why, maybe because he was the only one I’d met, but I looked for Prince Zyacus. Among the sea of dark hair and azure uniforms, I didn’t see him.
“Attention, please!” A loud male voice boomed in Heshan, the language the other two kingdoms spoke. I knew it as well as my native Delian, as did most in Delhoon, but I preferred my own.
I turned my eyes to the head of the room where the twenty-eight professors lined up. A man I didn’t know stood at the chest height black podium. All three kingdoms’ symbols were painted down the center with Delhoon’s phoenix at the top. The man’s long brown hair was tied back, and he wore an all-black suit. If I had to guess, I’d say he was in his forties but if he was magic-born, he could be much older.
“Welcome one and all to the Allied Kingdoms Academy. We expect great things from each of you. The rules will be explained in your first classes tomorrow, but most of them won’t differ from where you came from.” He gestured to the professors standing on either side of him. “These are your instructors. Respect them. I am the head of this institution, my name is Jace Ruford. Should you have a problem, your Kingdom Leader can’t solve, I will help. You will be escorted out by your year where you will have a chance to meet the other students your age. Fourth Years, please stand and follow your assigned professor.”
When Fourth Years had been called out, that left five through seven. Before the war ended, students in Delhoon started much younger and graduated at seventeen. Back then we needed the soldiers. With peacetime and the reluctance of the other kingdoms to train young children to be killers, most started at a later age. Anyone below a fourth year now attended academy in different locations. “Fifth years, please follow your leaders.” My grandparents stepped forward for our kingdom and we followed them out a side door and into a large common room where all Fifth Years were brought. The massive windows along the wall brought in bright sunlight, filling the room with a warm glow. A banner for each kingdom hung from the large wood beams on the ceiling. Along
the walls, ceiling-high enchanted murals had been painted. I watched an image of a dragon blowing fire repeatedly. Merfolk swam amongst colorful coral and sea life. A group of hippogriffs squabbled.
“I dare you to go to the Collweyan group,” Taz said, nudging my arm.
As much as I liked a good dare, I didn’t want to be the first to break ranks and meet the outsiders. “No,” I said, shoving him. “You should go. You’re much better at making friends than me.” Even if I’d practiced meet and greets my entire life, I disliked them.
In the middle of our argument, Papa found me in the crowd and put a hand on my shoulder. “Visteal, as princess you should set the example. Be a leader and go over to the other kingdoms.”
I clenched my teeth, of course he would say that. One would think I’d be used to this by now but I hated to set the example.
“I’ll go with you,” Legacy said. “Hesstia or Collweya first? Or should I say, which prince do you want to see first?”
Given that I didn’t like one kingdom more than the other, it didn’t truly matter. Although I wanted to snub Hesstia simply to shove it in Prince Zyacus’s face. With a smile, I closed my fists and then held them out to her. “Pick a hand.”
She tapped the left, I turned my hand over, palm up and there floated a tiny dragon. What Legacy didn’t know was that both hands held a dragon. “Collweya it is,” I said.
Lifting my head high, Legacy and I stepped out from our group. The Collweya students stood by the windows and to get to them, we had to pass the Hesstian group. Many of them watched us as we walked, openly gawking at the two girls brave enough to step away from the herd. I wondered if they knew I was the princess. Here at academy I wore no crown, nothing to signify my status. In many ways I was just like the rest of them.
“Well, if it isn’t Freckles, all grown up.” A man spoke in my language Delian, not a hint of an accent.
Freckles? Halting, I turned on my toes to look for the man who’d spoken. Certainly the deep, honey-smooth voice couldn’t be Prince Zyacus, but who else would call me that?
Three boys stood apart from the rest of the group. The one in the middle, muscular arms folded over his broad chest, and an arrogant smirk on his face, locked eyes with me. Those pimples he once had—gone, replaced with an attractive dark stubble. The scrawny boy I’d met years ago had grown into a well-built, gorgeous man. As much of a man as he could be at eighteen, but he certainly was not a child anymore.
“Prince,” I said curtly.
Zyacus ran a hand through his shiny hair, a shade or two lighter than black. His crystal blue eyes, so light they were distracting, flicked to Legacy then back to me. “You were just going to walk by and not say hello? I’m hurt, Princess.”
“I didn’t see you,” I said, wondering where the rude boy I knew went. I guess he was a kid the last time we saw each other, perhaps his behavior had grown up as much as his physical appearance.
“I doubt that. You were just scared, weren’t you? Typical of the Delhoon Princess.” His two friends snickered.
And he was back. “Scared to talk to an arrogant ass? No, actually I wanted to meet Aric, the Prince of Collweya. You’re old news.”
The smile dropped from his face and he glanced away. “Oh, you mean my cousin? I already told him how annoyingly self-righteous you are.”
“Self-righteous?” I scoffed. “And by the way,” I stepped closer and lowered my voice, “he’s not your cousin. His real father’s name is Rorin and he’s Delhoon.” I almost bit my tongue after that one. The rumor that the former queen’s son was a bastard prince wasn’t supposed to be talked about outside my family. All I knew was some devious things happened years ago during the Queens Challenge which resulted in Aric.
Zyacus looked around as if to see who overheard my last statement, and stepped so close that I could smell his sweet minty breath. “You better be careful with the sort of accusations you throw around.” His tone sharp as a blade.
I placed my hand on his firm chest and gave him a little shove. “Get out of my face.” I wanted to call him names, and use a few profanities but I was all too aware of people watching us.
Legacy tugged on my arm, pulling me away. “I guess you weren’t joking about a fight between the two of you,” she whispered.
“Good idea, walk away,” Zyacus said, his friends laughed again.
Blood burning like hot coals, I whipped around but Legacy kept hold of me. “Don’t,” she said harshly. “One more mess up and we’re expelled, remember?” I wasn’t sure my parents would actually expel me, but they might.
With my hands shaking in anger, I held my tongue, and allowed Legacy to lead me over to the Collweyan students.
“Hello,” she said, grinning.
“Hi,” said a girl with icy blonde hair. We talked with her for a few minutes, until Legacy got her and a few other students laughing. Soon after that, Taz walked over to join us, and that’s all it took for many on all sides to step forward and intermingle.
While chatting with one of the Collweyan students, I got a tap on my shoulder. Turning around, I found a boy looking back at me with a smile. “Hi, I’m Aric,” he said.
Chapter 4
For the second time that day I was surprised at the good looks of a boy. Not that I was deprived of attractive male students in Delhoon but Prince Aric was easy on the eyes. From his shaggy sandy-brown hair, to his strong-looking body, to his smooth pale skin. “It’s nice to finally get to meet the Prince of the North,” I said.
Since he was the son of the former Delhoon Queen, Kyria, I wondered if my mother would be angry at us becoming friends? It’s not as if he could change who birthed him or would even want to. I’d never met Kyria but for my mother to hate her as much as she did, and Mother was one of the kindest people I knew, Kyria must have done something terrible. One day I’d find out. Father didn’t like her either but his hatred didn’t seem to run as deep, or he allowed the years to take the sting away.
Aric smiled. “Yes, I was jealous of Zyacus when he got to see you over the years. He always talked about how pretty and fun you are.”
Blown away, I blinked a few times. “He said what?”
Aric chuckled. “I saw your little squabble with him. My cousin likes banter, it’s not just you. Though given his status as heir to the throne of Hesstia, most don’t dare speak to him other than pretty words and compliments.”
I glanced across the room at Zyacus, who I caught staring at me. He looked away quickly and I turned back to Aric. “Well I reserve compliments for people who deserve them.” I also knew for sure that his threatening manner when I mentioned Aric’s real father wasn’t playful banter. It was probably best I didn’t bring it up to Aric either, he may not know there was even a chance that Ekarius, one of the King of the North’s sons, might not be his father. Ekarius was the brother of the Queen of Hesstia, Zyacus’s mother. All three of our kingdoms had become peculiarly intertwined.
Putting his hands in the pockets of his pants, Aric shrugged. “Zyacus is not for everyone.” He chuckled. “Anyway, what are the rumors you’ve heard about our parents? Sometimes I think my mother is lying. I love her but everything she says doesn’t quite add up.”
“Rumors?” That the man you think is your father, isn’t your real father. “I don’t know about rumors but does your mother hate mine as much as mine hates yours?”
I watched him carefully, waiting for his reaction. It was always good to know what went on with other kingdoms.
He laughed which surprised me. He could have easily gotten offended. Zyacus probably would. “I think loathe is a better word. But does the relationship between our parents affect us?”
“Does it need to?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No. This academy is supposed to mend the old bad blood, right?”
A loud whistle abruptly ended the chatter in the room and I looked to a female professor standing on a table. “Meet and greet is over. It’s our time for lunch in the dining hall. Please recon
vene with your kingdom and line up at the door.”
Aric stuck out his hand. “It was great to meet you. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other quite often.”
I stared at it. If I touched him and saw his death—I just couldn’t do it. With his sleeve slightly pulled up, I noticed a brown mark on the underside of his wrist. About the size of a gold coin, and if I wasn’t mistaken, it was in the shape of a human skull. “Is that a birthmark?” I asked. Distraction always worked.
His gaze fell to the mark and he immediately put his hand behind his back. “Yeah,” he mumbled and cleared his throat. “See you around.” He darted off without so much as looking at me, and disappeared into his group.
That was odd.
Taz put an arm across my shoulders. “I’m starving. Let’s go.”
∞∞∞
Turkey legs, warm rolls, fresh butter, seasoned potatoes, and an array of desserts filled the tables. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I smelled the rich aroma of all the delicious food. I loaded my plate and stuffed a piece of a roll into my mouth when Legacy nudged my arm. “So, Prince Aric…”
“What about him?” I asked, wondering what she was trying to get at but I was fairly certain she was prying for my feelings.
“Come on, Vis, I need to know about him—meet him. Aric and Zyacus—beauty must run in their blood,” she said, taking her glass into her hand.
Taz, sitting on my other side, groaned loudly. “Please don’t make me gag.”
“Oh, hush up, Taz,” Legacy said. “We can talk about boys.”
I looked over at him and saw the hurt in his eyes. Legacy had no idea how much he liked her. For some reason she was blind to his fondness, and I didn’t want to tell her and make it awkward between them. Deep down, I wondered if he had real hopes of marrying her someday. “No amount of beauty could make up for Zyacus’s stupidity.” I took a sip of the sweet berry drink in my glass. “Aric is different. He actually seems nice. But he has this mark on his wrist, when I mentioned it he acted strange, like he didn’t want me to talk about it.”
