“I can’t see Alassa choosing anyone,” Emily admitted. Even if her friend hadn’t been aware of the potential dangers–her protector might start becoming her master–she wouldn’t want to share power with someone else, particularly not someone who had a power base of his own, separate from her. “She’d want to rule on her own.”
“And as long as she remained childless, the succession would be in question,” Void said. “The White Council is very concerned.”
Emily gave him a sharp look. She knew next to nothing about the White Council, apart from the fact that it meant different things to different people. Alassa had told her that it was the parliament that debated the unified response to the necromancers–and to other threats, although she had yet to hear of any more dangerous than the supercharged magicians in the Blighted Lands. But the grandmaster had hinted that it was composed of magicians, magicians who considered themselves responsible for safeguarding the Allied Lands. And Void had apparently called on the Council to discuss Emily’s future, back when he’d rescued her from certain death.
“I see,” she said, finally. “What do you want me to do?”
Void grinned at her. “What makes you think I want you to do anything?”
“You came here and interrupted me,” Emily pointed out. Part of her was grateful–at least she had a chance to think about what she could say to Jade–but the rest of her was irked at his presumption. “I don’t think you came just to tell me vague generalities about Alassa’s kingdom.”
“True enough,” Void agreed. He cleared his throat, pretending to read from an invisible document. “The White Council would prefer that the country remain stable, with a clear line of succession to the throne. They would be very grateful for anything you do that helps ensure such a happy outcome.”
Emily felt her lips twitch. “They think that I can help keep the country stable?”
“The White Council is not supposed to interfere overtly in the internal affairs of individual Allied Lands,” Void admitted. “You, however, are a close personal friend of the crown princess, the girl who will be at the heart of the coming political turmoil. If you manage to keep her alive and reasonably independent, the White Council would be very relieved.”
“Reasonably independent,” Emily repeated. She shook her head. “It seems to me that independence might be difficult, whoever she picks as husband. Maybe she should just remain unmarried.”
“Then the succession would be disputed,” Void said, crossly. “There are no other direct heirs to the throne. Unless Alassa has children, there will be at least seven different noble families with vague claims–claims that will be heavily disputed by everyone else.”
Emily smiled. “Why can’t she have children without getting married?”
“Because such children would not be accepted as fully legitimate,” Void said. “Besides, she will be expected to marry. The only question is who she chooses.”
His eyes glittered. “If you were a man,” he added, “I would advise you to court her.”
Emily snorted. “And seeing you are a man,” she countered, “why don’t you court her?”
Void wagged his finger at her, although it was clear that he was trying not to laugh. “You should consider yourself lucky,” he said. “Don’t you know that there are guardians who would beat their wards for that?”
He shook his head, unable to repress a smile any longer. “A powerful sorcerer as consort might make sense–it would certainly terrify the aristocrats into behaving themselves–but it would have other risks,” he added. “And besides, you do realize that I am over a hundred years old?”
Emily snickered. “You don’t know anyone else who might be interested in courting Alassa?”
“I’d be worried about adding monarchical power to any sorcerer’s already formidable powers,” Void said, softly. “You already know that some sorcerers go too far in their quest for power.”
“I know,” Emily said.
From what she had been able to discover, necromancers rarely started out as monsters, intent on sacrificing countless innocent victims in order to boost their power. Indeed, the insanity that came with the power should have deterred all but the most foolhardy. But sorcerers who wanted greater power often took the first stumbling steps into necromancy without fully realizing what they were doing, at least until it was too late. And then they became addicted to the rush of power that came with the dark magic. As far as Emily knew, no one had ever broken the addiction. They weren’t even able to understand why anyone would want to break free.
Void looked back at Jade, then down at the grass. “The Allied Lands have been enjoying a period of stability,” he said. “That’s also your fault–although no one is actually complaining about this one. We’d like that stability to last as long as possible.”
Emily made a face. Shadye’s attack on Whitehall, a seemingly impregnable fortress, had come within bare inches of succeeding. The Allied Lands had been forced to face the fact that if he had succeeded, the mountain range separating them from the necromancers would have been breached and the hordes would have been free to ravage the southern countries bordering the mountains. It wouldn’t be long, Emily suspected, before the Allied Lands started bickering again, but for the moment the near-disaster had concentrated quite a few minds.
“I’ll do my best,” she promised. How exactly was she supposed to convince Alassa to pick a husband? Perhaps she should pick a prince from the other side of the Allied Lands…if that would actually work. She needed to do more reading. “And what should I do about this?”
She waved a hand at Jade. “I don’t even know why he wants to marry me,” she protested. “What should I do?”
Void grinned. “You protested at the thought of people organizing your marriage for you,” he said, “and now you’re asking me to tell you what to do?”
Emily flushed.
“If you want to marry him,” Void added, “I will not raise any objection. Quite a few of the older pupils at Whitehall are married, along with some of the tutors, so the grandmaster is unlikely to object. And anyone else…well, you are the Necromancer’s Bane. They’ll keep their objections to themselves.”
His eyes narrowed. “Do you want to marry him?”
Emily hesitated. “I don’t know,” she admitted, finally. She did like Jade–and, unlike so many others, he didn’t seem to be scared of her. But then, he’d seen some of her early blunders in Martial Magic. The others knew her only by reputation. “I…”
“Then wait until you’re sure,” Void suggested. “You’re a magician–the normal courtship rules don’t really apply to you. You won’t lose anything by turning down any other proposals that come your way. Once you actually know what you want, you can decide what to do. Just don’t invite any demons to share your bed. That always ends badly.”
“Demons?” Emily repeated. “Why…?”
“Some people are idiots who think they can play with fire without being burned,” Void said. “Now if you will excuse me…”
Emily opened her mouth, but it was already too late.
Void was gone.
Chapter Three
THE SPELL ON JADE BROKE AN instant after Void vanished.
He turned back to face her, seemingly unaware that any time had passed. Emily wasn’t too surprised. She’d experienced the spell herself and had been utterly unaware of it, until someone had pointed out that the sun had moved. Jade might have noticed–they’d been taught to tell the time by reading the sun’s position–but he hadn’t been frozen for very long.
And what if he thought she had frozen him?
“I… I don’t know,” she said, out loud. What had they been talking about before Void had arrived? “This is all so…sudden.”
Jade looked about as red as Emily felt. “I know,” he admitted. “It’s just that…”
Emily held up a hand before he could say anything else, thinking hard. On Earth, courtship was a long process, with both parties slowly drawing togeth
er. There was a great deal of plausible deniability built into the system, she realized, allowing one party to withdraw without embarrassment if they realized that the other party wasn’t really interested. But Jade had come right out and declared his interest, as if he expected that would be enough. Perhaps it would be, for anyone born to this world. Emily was from somewhere very different.
What could she say? Did she like Jade? He was handsome, and kind, and he’d been a friend when too many others had been terrified of her–but would they really be good as a couple? Or was she being silly? This wasn’t a world where couples could easily separate if they found out that they were incompatible after getting married. But then, Jade’s family was of little consequence and Emily’s was non-existent. Her thoughts spun through her head, leaving her unsure of what to do. Did she want to kiss him? Would it be easy to kiss him? She had never even kissed a boy on Earth.
No one had warned her that someone would want to court her. How had she missed even considering the possibility? But on Earth, she had been a social outcast and she’d just assumed that it would be the same at Whitehall. God knew she’d gone through real troubles just to make a handful of friends–and they, in their own way, were outcasts too. Hell, was Jade an outcast? He certainly seemed more popular than Emily had ever been.
She pushed her wandering thoughts aside and looked up at him. “I cannot get married yet,” she said, finally. Void had said that there were older students who were married; absently, she wondered what sort of provisions were made for them. Married quarters? “I’m not saying no, but I want to wait.”
Jade looked…oddly hurt. “I understand,” he said, tightly. “I shouldn’t have sprung it on you so quickly. I…”
His voice trailed off.
Emily felt a pang of guilt, even though cold logic told her that she had nothing to be guilty about. She hadn’t played with Jade’s emotions, nor had she hinted to him that she might have been interested…or had she? For all she knew, the amount of time she’d spent with him might have been interpreted as a sign of interest. Back home, male-female friendships were far from uncommon, but here they seemed to be rare. Come to think of it, the only girls she’d seen being friendly with the boys outside classes were the other three girls from Martial Magic. Or were they being courted too?
“It’s all right,” Emily said, although she wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth. She did feel flattered that he’d asked, even though she’d never expected such a…blunt proposal. “I just…can you ask me again later?”
But he’d been asking her about staying in Whitehall, she remembered suddenly. Had he really been asking if she wanted him to stay with her?
And men say we women are impossible to understand, she thought, sourly. They should try walking a mile in our shoes.
“I can,” Jade said. “I’m sorry if I was…impolite.”
Emily made a face. “You weren’t bad at all,” she said, as reassuringly as she could. Her own emotions were spinning around in her head. “Don’t worry about it. I will consider your proposal, but I have to complete my education before actually getting married.”
And what happens, a dark voice at the back of her head muttered, if he finds someone else he likes between now and then?
Jade reached out suddenly and gave her a hug. Emily somehow managed to stop herself from flinching back, for very few people had ever hugged her in her life. Her mother had shown more interest in the bottle than in her only child, her stepfather had never been affectionate towards her…and the only person at Whitehall who had hugged her was Imaiqah. Now…she felt Jade’s hands enfolding her and forced herself to relax. The hug didn’t feel bad at all.
“Thank you,” he said. It would have been easy to kiss him. “I… should we go back to the school?”
Emily winced, inwardly. “I think that would be best,” she admitted. “I need time to think.”
There was an uncomfortable silence as they walked back down the path to Whitehall. Emily wondered, bitterly, if they would ever recapture the easy friendship they’d had before he’d proposed to her. She’d liked laughing and joking with him, so much more than anything she’d had on Earth. But maybe he’d only spent time with her because he was interested in marrying her. How could she have missed it?
She grimaced as they entered the school’s grounds, passing through the outer protective wards that were intended to keep out unwanted guests. Emily had always been sensitive to the wards, but ever since Shadye had invaded the school she’d had the distant impression that the wards didn’t really like her. They weren’t really alive, not as she understood the term, yet it was impossible to escape the pervading sense of dislike radiating out from the wards. But maybe it wasn’t too surprising. Emily might have saved the school, and the Allied Lands, but her mere presence had also put them in terrible danger. Shadye had used a sample of her blood to manipulate her, using her to take down the wards from the inside.
“I’ll see you at the dance,” Jade said, as they stepped into the school. “Will…will you be all right?”
“Yes,” Emily said, flatly. Even a blind man would have realized that she was upset. But then, Jade had done better reading her than she had in reading him. “I’ll see you at the dance.”
She walked up the staircase before he could say anything, shaking her head inwardly as she felt the school’s interior twisting around her. Whitehall had been shaped by some very crafty magicians and the staircases and corridors often led directly to where someone wanted to go–or needed to go, if they were in trouble. She stepped off the stairs and found herself in front of the unmarked wall concealing the entrance to the first-year dormitories. Pushing her hand against it to open the hidden door, she stepped through the gap and into the long corridor that led down to the laundry room. Memories rose up within her as she heard Madame Razz, the housemother, angrily lecturing a first-year girl on poor behavior. Emily shook her head, wondering what had happened, then walked down to Alassa’s room.
The door opened when Emily knocked, allowing her to step inside. Alassa’s room was identical to Emily’s, apart from the single large family portrait hanging over her bed. Like Emily, she had two roommates, both of whom had already gone home for the holidays. One of them had caught Emily, several months after she’d arrived at Whitehall, and thanked her for helping to make living with the princess bearable. Apparently, Alassa had been a right pain in the behind to her roommates, as well as everyone else.
“Don’t you dare laugh,” Alassa said, as Emily closed the door. “I have to wear this outfit on the journey home.”
Emily looked…and had to suppress a smile. Alassa was almost inhumanly perfect, with long blonde tresses, a heart-shaped face and a perfect body. She was also wearing a blue dress that made her look rather like a peacock, complete with feathers sticking up behind her hair. It actually suited her, Emily decided, although she wouldn’t have been comfortable showing off so much of her cleavage. But then, Alassa’s breasts were perfect too.
“They expect you to wear that in the coach?” She asked, surprised. It looked as though one person would have problems putting it on without help. “Wouldn’t it get crumpled?”
“My father wishes me to make a proper appearance,” Alassa said. She peered at herself in the mirror, twisting and turning until she was satisfied. “It seems that there won’t be anywhere to change until we actually get to the palaces and castles we’re going to be staying at along the way.”
Emily resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. It would have been simple for Alassa to go home using a portal, or a teleport spell. Instead, her parents insisted that she ride home in a coach, allowing her to visit a number of castles belonging to other royal families before she was formally confirmed as heir to the throne. Alassa had tried to explain why this was important, but she hadn’t been sure of the details and Emily had ended up more confused than ever.
“This isn’t the only dress either,” Alassa added. “My mother has sent me fifteen dresses, one for e
ach day. And I have to put them all on without help. Mother always said that I should never become dependent upon the servants to get dressed.”
“Sounds like good advice,” Emily said. “Anything someone else does for you is something you can’t do for yourself.”
Some of the more absurd royal courts on Earth had actually had protocols for who was to help the royal family dress in the morning. Some of the stories had been so absurd that she’d been left shaking her head in disbelief. At least Alassa didn’t seem to have to parade around naked to convince potential in-laws that she was healthy and fertile. It had struck Emily as little more than an excuse for the in-laws to be perverted, although it did make a certain kind of sense. Several royal families had tried to conceal their ugly daughters until the marriage had taken place.
“So I have been told,” Alassa said. She muttered a charm and the dress suddenly loosened and started to fall off her body. “This dress isn’t even the worst of them.”
She scowled. “And I won’t even have my servants with me,” she added. “I am to be completely dependent upon their hospitality. The Duchess of Iron thinks that it will be good for me. Personally, I think that Mother issued the orders and then blamed the duchess.”
Emily watched as Alassa stepped out of the dress, then carefully placed it back in her traveling chest. The princess’s underwear was almost non-existent, surprisingly. But then, every student at Whitehall was expected to wear the same all-concealing robes. Emily couldn’t help noticing that Alassa had a dagger strapped to her right thigh, although she couldn’t imagine how her friend was meant to draw it without tearing her dress. There didn’t seem to be any slit she could use to reach it.
Lessons in Etiquette (Schooled in Magic series) Page 3
