“With a friend,” I said, stubbornly.
Alana reached forward and jabbed me in the chest. “You are a daughter of House Aguirre,” she said. “You have a duty to the house. You should not be spending time with someone who is our enemy, simply by existing. Your duty is to provide weapons and tools for us ...”
I blinked. “Us?”
“The family, you stupid ...” Alana bit off a word that would have gotten her in real trouble if she’d used it in front of Mum. Mum would have washed her mouth out with soap. “We are at war!”
“Not yet,” I said. “We ...”
“Yes, we are,” Alana interrupted. “Have you not seen the news? We are under attack!”
I swallowed. “Do you believe what you read in the broadsheets?”
“I believe what I hear from back home,” Alana said. “Robin says ...”
Something fell into place. “You’re working with Robin?”
“Someone has to defend the family,” Alana snapped. “And you’re not going to do it!”
I stared at her. “Alana ... you’re twelve!”
“I am the Aguirre Heir Primus,” Alana said. “And I am also your older sister.”
“By what?” I had to snicker. “Fifteen minutes?”
“I’m still older,” Alana said. “And I am the Heir Primus.”
“Only by default,” I reminded her. “The family council might want to have a say.”
“They can hardly question Dad’s bloodline now,” Alana said. “You’re important!”
I clenched my fists. “How nice of you to finally realise it.”
Alana shook her head. “You will not talk to Akin any more, ever,” she said. “You will go to the workroom and forge us Objects of Power we can use to ...”
I met her eyes. “Make me.”
Alana’s hand flashed out. I could have jumped back, but I let her grab the earring and pull. It broke in her hand, the tiny gemstone falling to the ground. She blinked in surprise - this time, she hadn’t managed to yank it right out of my ear - and then cast a hex. A compulsion spell, I thought. The bracelet under my sleeve grew warm as it absorbed the magic.
“You stole my last earring.” My voice sounded smug, even to me. “Did you not think that I would learn from that experience? But then, you don’t think. No one will vote for you, after Dad dies, because you don’t think ...”
Alana stared at me, then lifted her hand and slapped my face. Hard. For a moment, I was too shocked to feel pain. Alana had hexed me in all sorts of ways, heaping humiliation after humiliation onto me as we’d grown older, but she’d never hit me. And then I threw myself at her, slamming my body into hers and shoving her to the ground. She was stronger than she looked - she hadn't spent much the last four years forging - and we rolled around the floor, hitting and kicking at each other. I could hear her shouting, but I couldn't make out the words. I was too busy trying to bash her head into the floor. Her nails dug into my back, scratching hard enough to draw blood ...
A hand grabbed my ankle and yanked, hard. I let go of Alana, half-convinced that one of her cronies had come to her rescue. And then, as I rolled over, I saw Bella ... with Rose, standing behind her. I felt a flash of shame. I’d been so consumed with anger that I’d forgotten myself. I hadn't wanted Rose to see me so ... so uncontrolled.
“You’re both being idiots,” Bella said. I’d never heard her so ... panicky before. “Stop it!”
Alana and I exchanged shocked glances. “Who are you?” Alana sounded stunned. “And what have you done with Bella?”
I rubbed my jaw. It was throbbing, dully. My entire body ached. I hoped Alana felt worse, even though I knew we were in trouble. If Mum and Dad ever heard about us fighting like boys, they’d be furious. And yet ...
“Someone has to be the mature one,” Bella managed, finally. “And it’s clearly not going to be either of you.”
“Oh,” I managed. “And where is Bella?”
Bella gave me a stern look. It was suddenly easy to see my mother in her pudgy face. It struck me, suddenly, that Bella was actually growing up. The thought cost me a pang. Bella had power, if she chose to use it. My talents were far more limited.
“Rose has a letter she needs to show you,” Bella told me. “Why don’t the two of you find another room and go for a natter. Alana and I will have a proper chat.”
I glanced at Rose’s desperate face and knew I had no choice. “Fine,” I said, stumbling to my feet. Pain stabbed down my back. Alana had definitely scratched me badly. “I’ll see you later.”
Chapter Nineteen
“Cat,” Rose asked. “Are you alright? What happened?”
I said nothing as we stepped into another private workroom. My jaw still hurt. I fiddled with my blazer for a long moment, half-convinced that the back of my shirt was stained with blood. Alana probably sharpened her nails deliberately. One of my uncles had told me horror stories of men being killed by poisoned fingernails. Mum had shut him up before he could get to the gory details.
“We had a fight,” I said, unnecessarily. She didn't need me to tell her that! “Do you have a mirror?”
Rose passed me a small pocket compact without comment. I flipped it open and inspected my jaw. The skin hadn't torn, but I was going to be bruised for a few days unless I rubbed salve into the wound. I’d have to be careful. Too much magic in my body would make it harder for me to forge.
“She got you a good one,” Rose said. She sat down on a comfortable chair. “What were you fighting about?”
“Akin,” I said. It hurt to admit it. “Dad said I wasn't to spend time with him. Alana ... picked up on that.”
“And gave you a lecture over it,” Rose finished. She met my eyes. “Is she right?”
I shrugged as I sat down. Dad had a point, I had to admit. Akin might not be my enemy, but his family were my enemies. He’d certainly be expected to continue the feud if he actually became Patriarch. But ... he was also my friend. I didn't want to abandon him. And I didn’t think he wanted to abandon me either. He didn't have many real friends.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Life would be much simpler if I didn't have a family.”
“It would also be harder in quite a few ways,” Rose said. She held out a scroll. “Take a look at this.”
I frowned. I’d seen plenty of ancient scrolls, but modern ones ...? They were only used for matters that required the utmost formality. I felt my heart start to sink as I took the scroll and unfurled it, carefully. My bracelet grew warm as preservation and authentication spells snapped and snarled around my fingertips. Whoever had sent the scroll wanted to make it absolutely clear that it was their scroll. There could be no room for doubt.
Rose looked nervous. “Is it real?”
“The spells are real,” I said, slowly. Authentication spells weren't exactly rare, but only the Great Houses used them regularly. Most merchants considered them a headache, as they required specially-trained Charms Masters. “And that’s fairly indicative ...”
I read the letter quickly, silently discounting the paragraphs upon paragraphs of pointless flattery before the writer got to the point. Mum had told me that courtesy and politeness were the foundations of society, but I tended to think that the writer had gone too far. There was just too much flattery in his words for me to take it seriously. And then I found the crucial lines ...
“He wants a betrothal?”
“That's what I thought it meant,” Rose said. “Bella said I should ask you.”
I hastily scanned the rest of the scroll, looking for the name. Lord Bolingbroke - Clarian’s father - was interested in arranging a betrothal between Rose and Clarence Hunter-Bolingbroke, his nephew. The offer was astonishingly generous, perhaps more generous than it needed to be. Lord Bolingbroke offered lands and gold as a down payment, then promised to settle additional properties on Clarence once Rose and he were wed. It was, in many ways, too generous. It made me sure there was a sting in the tail.
“This is good,” I
muttered. “Too good.”
Rose winced. “Is he someone they want to get rid of?”
“Not if they’re settling so much property on him,” I said. I dug through my memory. I’d met Clarence Hunter-Bolingbroke at one of those wretched parties, but he’d been a year or two older than me ... too old to play with little girls. He’d be a third-year student, unless he was being homeschooled. “He’s not that much older than us.”
“So he’s not a doddering old man,” Rose said. “That’s something, at least.”
I frowned. “Better to check on that, just in case,” I said. I’d have to look Clarence Hunter-Bolingbroke up in the library. He’d have an entry in The Great Houses List, even if it recorded nothing more than his birthday, parents and family tree. “They might be trying to pull a fast one.”
Rose took back the scroll. “Is this a serious offer?”
“It looks serious,” I said. I stared at her. “Are you considering it?”
“I don’t know,” Rose said. “Should I be considering it?”
I took a moment to gather my thoughts. “It looks like a genuine offer,” I said. “It will be easy enough to verify the sender, then confirm the specifics ... we can probably do that in the library, if you want. But afterwards ...”
Rose leaned forward. “Afterwards?”
“It may not be easy,” I said.
I eyed the scroll for a long moment. “On the face of it, they’re making a very good offer for your hand in marriage,” I said. “They’re offering to make a significant payment now, including enough land to make your parents freeholders in their own right. It would practically make them local gentry” - it would also be a tiny fraction of House Bolingbroke’s resources, but I kept that thought to myself - “and, used properly, it would put them on a secure footing for generations to come. And they’re prepared to wait until you graduate, which will be seven years away - longer, perhaps, if you take up an apprenticeship. It’s a very good offer.”
“I see,” Rose said. “What’s the catch?”
“There are three,” I said, more confidently now. “First, there is no way you can get legally married - even with permission from your parents - until you turn seventeen. The same is true for him, so the marriage will not take place for some time. You might discover that someone catches your eye, someone you actually like ... and then be heartbroken because you have to marry Clarence.”
I held up a hand to keep her from interrupting. “The same might be true for him, of course,” I added. “He’s not a firstie, so he’s at least a year older than us. He might find someone he wants to marry when he turns seventeen, then try to demand that his parents let him out of the betrothal. His parents may not be inclined to allow him to leave so easily.”
Rose looked pale. “Ouch.”
“Second, a betrothal is a long-term link between two families.” I paused, trying to decide how to say it. “Once the betrothal is announced, you will be considered an honorary Bolingbroke right from the start. This is both good and bad: good, because it obliges them to assist and protect you; bad, because you’ll draw attention from Bolingbroke’s enemies. It will also limit your ability to make friendships and alliances with some of the other students.
“And then there’s the third point. You are simply not in a good position to bargain.”
I met her eyes. “My family has a great deal of clout,” I told her. “And if we entered into a betrothal agreement that we later wanted to back out of, we have enough power and influence to do it. We’d have to pay compensation, of course, depending on the exact situation, but we’d be free and clear. It would be an agreement of equals, or one where we were clearly superior ... not one where we are regarded as supplicants. We could end the betrothal without rancour.”
Rose cocked her head. “But it would still be taken as insulting?”
I shrugged. “It depends,” I said. “Betrothals have ended, in the past, because the happy couple refused to wed when they came of age. That’s embarrassing, but acceptable. Others have ended because one house lost a great deal of power and status, leaving the other house trying desperately to get out of the match. Rose, feuds have started over less.
“But, in your case, you would have to hand back everything they gave you if you decided you didn't want to go through the match. Imagine it ... you’ve settled on the land, you’ve spent the money ... and then, suddenly, they demand it back. You would have literally no way to avoid losing everything. Your parents would be uprooted, if they were lucky. They’d have a very good reason to force you to go through with the wedding.”
Rose paled. “What if he doesn't want to go through with it?”
“That would still be tricky,” I said. “Does your family have the money to hire a good lawyer?”
“No,” Rose said.
I met her eyes, warningly. “You’d probably not lose everything, if there was no dispute about who wanted to end the match, but ... it would still be costly. You probably wouldn't be able to afford a lawyer capable of presenting your case in Magus Court, let alone one who could convince a jury of senior magicians that you were the victims. Either way, it could get very bad.”
Rose looked down at the scroll. “Why me?”
“You’re my friend,” I said. “And Akin’s friend. I imagine Lord Bolingbroke thinks you’d be a good investment. You’ll probably get more offers if you reject this one.”
I felt a stab of sympathy. The offer was a good one, very good. That was enough to tell me that House Bolingbroke was more interested in a long-term partnership than simply removing Rose from the pool of potential marriage partners before someone else snapped her up. Her family stood to benefit considerably if the betrothal turned into a marriage. But it wasn’t one that had been written with Rose’s best interests in mind. If things went sour, they’d go really sour. Rose would be lucky if she was left with the shirt on her back.
Rose sighed. “What do you think I should do?”
“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “How would you arrange a marriage in your community?”
“There are ... dances ... for girls and boys who are old enough to marry, chaperoned by our mothers,” Rose said. She smiled, rather wanly. “We were told that we were not allowed to attend until we turned sixteen at the very earliest. I think we get encouraged to partner up with boys and girls from other villages, then if things go well ...”
She shook her head. “That isn't going to happen for me, is it?”
“Probably not,” I agreed. It didn't sound that different from formalised dances in High Society. The grand dames would be horrified at the mere thought. “But you don’t have to take the first offer someone makes to you.”
I took a long breath. “Sleep on it,” I advised. “If you like the idea, we can forward the scroll to my father and let him have a look at it. He might have some good advice. After that ... if you want to go through with it, Dad can help us make the arrangements. If not ... I can help you draft a polite, but firm rejection. They may try to make you a better offer.”
“It feels odd,” Rose said. “I’m too young to get married. He’s too young to get married. I don’t even know him.”
“You’ll be spending a great deal of time together, if you get betrothed,” I warned her. “You will be chaperoned, of course.”
“Of course,” Rose echoed.
She looked at the scroll, rather wistfully. “We don’t need to trouble your father with it,” she said. “Please, can you help me draft a formal rejection ...
Her voice trailed off. “Does Clarian know about this?”
“I doubt it,” I said. I didn't know Clarian that well. She might never know that her father had tried to arrange the betrothal. Come to think of it, Clarence might never know his uncle had tried to arrange the betrothal. “Clarence will have to give his consent at some point, but ...”
Rose gasped. “Are you saying he might not know?”
“It's a possibility,” I said. “His uncle might not have discussed the
matter with him.”
Rose looked at me as if I’d suddenly started speaking in tongues. “This isn't something minor,” she protested. “It’s ...”
Her eyes widened in horror. “Your father,” she said, suddenly. “Would he arrange a betrothal for you? Without telling you?”
I frowned. “I think he might try to test the waters a little before discussing the issue with me,” I said. I’d never considered it a serious possibility. My lack of magic would deter potential suitors and their parents. Even now ... my talents brought disadvantages as well as advantages. Dad would have had to promise the sun and the moon to convince some unlucky boy’s parents that I was a good match. “But nothing could be agreed without my consent.”
The Zero Equation Page 19
