“Oh, I don’t think the prince will like this one,” she said in a high-pitched and bitter-sounding voice, trying on a hideously expensive gold diadem studded with massive diamonds.
The other girls were nodding like puppets.
She turned towards us. Her eyes were a beautiful, icy blue, but they were cold and full of malice. She didn’t look like a very nice person.
“Ah!” she said, looking at Aunt Serena and then at me, “if it isn’t the Countess of Everdale.”
“Good evening, Leticia,” said Aunt Serena politely.
“And who is this?” Leticia said, eyeing me up and down as if I was some lowly peasant not fit to be in her company.
“This is Rory,” said Aunt Serena. “She is my father’s ward.”
Leticia dismissed me once she decided that I wasn’t important enough to merit her time.
“Well, we will see you tomorrow night at the Blackwater’s dinner party, Countess,” said Leticia to Aunt Serena, completely ignoring me, as if I didn’t exist.
“Yes, Leticia,” said Aunt Serena, “we will all be attending.”
“Oh good,” said Leticia, her smile not reaching her eyes. “I shall see you all, then.”
She flung the offensive diadem down, much to the dismay of the little bearded shopkeeper, stuck her nose up high into the air, and walked out of the shop with her friends following like little ducklings behind their mother.
“Who was that?” I said to Aunt Serena after the blonde girl had left.
“That is Lady Leticia, daughter of the Earl of Glenbarry,” said Aunt Serena. “She is her father’s only heir and is betrothed to the crown prince.”
“She’s going to be Queen of Eldoren someday?” I asked, horrified at the prospect.
“Looks like it,” said Aunt Serena. “No wonder that poor boy keeps running off for days on end. Who would want to be shackled to the likes of her?”
The poor boy being the crown prince, I surmised.
On our way back to the house, I asked Aunt Serena some more about the noble families and the aristocracy of Eldoren and Illiador.
“I wish I didn’t have to come with you to the Blackwaters’ house tomorrow,” I finally blurted out.
“You must,” said Aunt Serena. “As I explained to you, no one will know who you are. As long as you are in plain sight, no one will question why you are here.”
“Well, you know how Damien and I don’t get along,” I said. “I don’t think he would even want me in his house.”
“Nonsense,” said Aunt Serena. “Damien will do as his mother says. Childish rivalries in school do not matter in the greater scheme of things. The Blackwaters and the Silverthornes have a tumultuous history, but we all have to keep up appearances for the sake of the realm.”
Aunt Serena explained that Damien’s hatred for my granduncle and all the Silverthornes stemmed purely from the political rivalries of our families. Apparently, Uncle Gabriel was the richest noble in all the kingdoms. He was far richer and even more powerful than the King of Eldoren, and his lands and estates outweighed those of the crown. His army was the largest and fiercest in all the lands, and they were loyal only to him.
I was slowly starting to get the feel for politics, and I couldn’t believe that my uncle actually thought that I would be able to fit in in this snake pit of treacherous nobles and jealous families fighting for their place in society. I was not used to it, and I wondered if I would ever truly understand how it all worked. I had to try, though. I was, after all, the only true living heir of Azaren, and Morgana was not fit to rule Illiador. I had seen that now. I really hoped that Aunt Serena was right and that they had some sort of plan to stop her.
I shook my head at the unfairness of it all. Secretly I wished I really had the courage to take back the kingdom from Morgana. I still had four years of studying, though, until I was a fully trained mage. And then I had to learn to use fae powers as well. Being a fae-mage was not all it was cracked up to be. Even if somehow Uncle Gabriel’s army defeated Morgana’s and the armies of Maradaar and finally put me on the throne, what would I do? I couldn’t run a kingdom or be queen. I had no idea where to begin.
The carriage rolled to a stop in front of Everdale House. I climbed the steps, and Figgins opened the door to let us in. I was informed that Vivienne was waiting in the informal drawing room.
“Which one is that again?” I asked Figgins, still confused by all the rooms.
“Down the corridor and on your left, my lady,” said the ever-helpful Figgins.
I followed his directions and hurried to meet Vivienne.
“There you are,” she said, jumping up from the sofa and coming over to hug me. “Where were you? I have been waiting for ages.”
“Sorry, Viv, I was at a dress fitting with Aunt Serena. I have to go to a party at Damien’s house tomorrow night,” I said, scrunching up my nose.
“Oh no,” said Vivienne, suitably upset at the situation. I knew she would understand immediately.
“So, where’s Erien?” Vivienne then asked, quite unexpectedly, her eyes scanning the room.
“He’s out,” I said. Why did she care?
“Oh!” said Vivienne, her face falling.
“Viv,” I said carefully. “Do you fancy Erien?”
“No, no, of course not. Don’t be silly,” she said, jumping up off the sofa. “I was just asking.”
I smiled. Vivienne definitely had a crush on Erien. It was sweet, and I thought they would make a cute couple. I wondered if I could set them up.
“Did you tell your aunt about the book?” asked Vivienne, changing the subject.
I nodded. “She knows; Professor Dekela told her.”
Vivienne sat back down next to me, and I proceeded to tell her everything that Aunt Serena had said.
“How can I just forget about the book?” I said to Vivienne finally. “If Morgana gets all the keys, she will open the Book of Abraxas and take over the whole of Avalonia. No one will be able to stand in her way.”
“Your aunt and the professor are right,” said Vivienne. “You can’t prance around the kingdom looking for the keys; they could be anywhere. If you don’t learn to use the powers you have, it won’t matter if Morgana has the book or not, she’s going to kill you anyway. Now that your granduncle knows about it too, she can be stopped from ever getting the book or the rest of the keys. You have already done enough and alerted them of Morgana’s plans. If you are going to be a queen, act like it. You need to learn to delegate responsibility. You have to let them handle it.”
I nodded. She had a point, and Vivienne always had a way of putting things in the correct perspective. I had to concentrate on my studies and learn all I could. I couldn’t stay hidden forever, and I needed to prepare myself for what was surely coming. Again, I thought about telling her my other secret, but I decided that this probably wasn’t the right time, and I kept my mouth shut.
* * *
The next evening, I admired myself in my new evening gown. The creamy satin shimmered in the candlelight, and one of Aunt Serena’s maids did up my horrid, mousy hair into an elaborate coiffure of ringlets and pearls, all elegantly pinned up and set beautifully.
As the carriage pulled up to Blackwater House, I was amazed. It was a huge, three-storied stone mansion at least twice the size of Everdale House and richly ornate, but frankly overdecorated, I thought. The inside was even more impressive, with a marble foyer, huge columns, and statues everywhere.
As liveried servants escorted us to the drawing room, I glimpsed intricate tapestries, massive windows draped in silk, gilded frames, and portraits that lined the gleaming mahogany walls.
The drawing room was full and bustling with chattering ladies in all their finery, as well as smartly dressed men in their evening doublets and highly polished boots. It was brightly lit with fragrant candles burning in massive silver candelabrums and a huge crystal chandelier gleaming overhead, hanging from an ornate and intricately carved ceiling.
“A
h, Serena, how lovely to see you,” said a beautiful lady, with chestnut hair spun with gold. She was wearing a rich maroon velvet dress, which clipped her tiny waist before falling to the floor. It was thickly embroidered with gold flowers, and she had matching flowers adorning her elaborate hair.
“Sorcha,” said Aunt Serena, greeting the lady warmly. She then pulled me forward. “Rory, this is the Duchess of Blackwater,” my aunt said.
“Your Grace,” I said with a small curtsey.
Serena had taught me most of the ways I should address people. I was still confused about ranks. I knew a duke was the highest ranking noble after the king and prince, but then was it a marquis or an earl, a viscount, and then a baron, or the other way around? It was all very confusing.
“So this is Rory,” said the duchess. “Damien has told me about you. I am so sorry about your parents. It is unfortunate and such a huge loss for a young girl your age.”
The duchess sounded genuine and was not at all mean like Damien, but I reminded myself to be careful; after all, this was the archmage’s sister I was talking to.
I was introduced around, and most of the people paid me only a passing greeting. I was relieved that no one was too interested in me, as I was not very comfortable answering questions about myself, since I had to lie so extensively.
Soon dinner was announced, and we were led into the dining room, which was also larger than the one at Everdale House. The massive hardwood dining table was highly polished and could easily seat fifty people. White-gloved and liveried footmen, who accompanied us everywhere like shadows, showed us to our seats.
Somehow Damien managed to seat himself next to me. I don’t know where he turned up from. I hadn’t seen him the whole evening. Calisto was seated opposite me near Zorek, but luckily a huge flower arrangement hid me from her view. I was not in the mood for Calisto’s cutting remarks. Next to me, much to my horror, was the Lady Leticia Glenbarry, who looked just as peeved to have been seated next to a nobody like me.
I was plowing through the first of ten courses when Aunt Serena gave me a glare from across the table. I soon remembered that she had warned me that proper young ladies don’t eat as though they have never seen food in their life. Women are supposed to only pick, chew a lot, and make innocuous comments about the sauce.
There were courses of everything from soups and roasted vegetables to fish in an array of sauces, extraordinary concoctions of some meat, and poultry done in a dozen different ways with cream, nuts, and honeyed apricots. The desserts were just as elaborate: delicious spun sugar concoctions, hot berry puddings with creamy sauces, cheeses, fruits, and more chocolate than you could possibly imagine.
We were halfway through dessert when the man next to Leticia spoke up.
“Lady Leticia,” he said, fawning over her, in obvious hopes of being noticed by the lady who was betrothed to the Prince of Eldoren. “When will the prince return from his travels? I have an urgent matter to discuss with him.”
“I cannot divulge that information, Lord Mornington,” Leticia said, smiling sweetly, but her eyes flashed with anger.
“She has no clue where my cousin is,” whispered Damien meanly in my ear. I could tell he didn’t like Leticia, but she was a very difficult person to like. “He prances off whenever he wants, and my uncle has to constantly send guards to bring him back from whatever inn or tavern he is holed up in.”
I was taken aback; Damien really hated his cousin, the prince. It wasn’t only in my family that jealousies ran rampant. I knew that if the Blackwater’s had their way, they would overthrow the king and take over Eldoren. Were all these rumors true about the prince?
Across the table, a conversation was turning into an argument.
“You cannot possibly think that the Black Wolf is anything more than a thieving outlaw,” said an old earl loudly, sitting up straighter in his high-backed chair. “He must be caught and brought to justice.”
“But he saves so many innocent lives,” said a plump, middle-aged lady who I recognized as the Countess of Dewberry. Aunt Serena had introduced us earlier in the drawing room. “He should be awarded a knighthood if you ask me, Marcus.”
“A knighthood,” spluttered the old earl. “Have you gone insane, woman? When that outlaw is finally caught, he should be hanged. I shall bring this to the notice of the council. Outlaws cannot be permitted to take the law into their own hands.”
“But he does so much good,” the countess insisted, holding her ground.
“What good is he to us?” said the old Earl, now going red in the face and looking like a ripe tomato ready to burst. “All he does is save those heathen fae. If you ask me, I think I quite agree with Morgana, that the fae should go back to Elfi and stay there.”
The countess gasped and turned away from the earl, refusing to even look at him.
I was so engrossed by their conversation that I didn’t notice the man next to Leticia trying to get my attention.
“So!” said Lord Mornington, looking at me. “Rory, is it?”
“Yes, my lord,” I nodded.
“And you are a mage in training at Evolon?”
I nodded again.
“Yes, yes, very good, all the Morningtons have been to Evolon too, you know. Except myself. Sadly I was not graced with the magic you possess,” said Lord Mornington, leaning back in his chair and fondling his wispy beard. “Young Damien here must be teaching you a few things, eh?” He gave me a lewd wink.
What did he mean by saying that Damien was teaching me? There was definitely nothing I wanted to learn from him. And what was that wink about? Did he think I was dating Damien?
“No, my lord,” I said, as sweetly as I could, even though I was fuming inside. “It’s more that I could teach Damien a few things—in magic, that is.”
The bald, paunchy lord laughed so loudly at my answer that he dropped his silver wine goblet, and red wine splattered all over the table and over Lady Leticia’s obviously hideously expensive dress.
She jumped up, screaming.
“You clumsy clod, you,” she screeched at the mortified Lord Mornington, who was clumsily trying to mop up the wine from her dress with his napkin and, in the process, proceeding to spread it around, creating an even more messy stain.
“Stay away from me,” screamed Leticia, swatting Lord Mornington’s hands away from her.
Footmen rushed to assist the screaming lady. The Duchess of Blackwater got up as well and tried to pacify her, but it was no use. Leticia Glenbarry, the future queen of the kingdom, gathered her skirts in a huff of stained satin and marched out of the dining room. I giggled to myself. She deserved it, the snooty thing.
Lord Mornington was apologizing all around, and he sat back down at his seat while the footmen miraculously dried everything and replaced the offending goblet with a new one, filled only halfway this time around.
I turned to Damien, but he did not look like he was laughing.
“Who do you think you are, anyway?” he said, his eyes flashing with malice.
I was momentarily taken aback. All this time Damien had been cordial, and now suddenly he hated me again. What had I done?
“How dare you tell Lord Mornington in full hearing of everyone else that you could teach me,” he ground out between clenched teeth so no one else could hear. “I am a Blackwater. My blood is one of the most magical in the whole kingdom and beyond. You are nobody, a little girl from a faraway town that no one has even heard of. You think you can teach me anything, I will show you what it means to cross a Blackwater.”
“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, glancing around. I didn’t want a scene now, especially here. “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just trying to make a joke.”
“Well, it wasn’t funny,” said Damien, his beady blue eyes full of hatred.
Luckily, the duchess announced that the men could retire to the drawing room, and the ladies would go to the parlor. Everyone got up from their seats and headed out of the dining room.
Damien
gave me a dark look and brushed past me. “See you in school,” he said, smiling his usual sinister smile.
I shivered at his words. Damien was definitely up to something, and I was quite sure I was not going to like whatever it was that was surely coming my way.
21
Damien
The next few days passed in shopping and spending time with Aunt Serena. Vivienne came over a few times, and we went for walks in the little wooded park behind Everdale House. Soon we had to return to Evolon, and I was not looking forward to that at all. I would have to see Damien, and I was quite sure the Blackwaters were planning something nasty for me.
I thanked Aunt Serena and climbed into the Everdale coach that was to take me back to Evolon. Erien got in with me, and we waved good-bye to my aunt, who was standing at the door to see us off.
Classes were interesting as usual, and I didn’t see Damien the whole first day I was back. He wasn’t even in warrior skills that day, which was a relief, but I wondered where he was.
I fiddled with my amulet while I walked back from my evening history class, through the gardens to my dorm. I looked at it again, as I had done countless times before. It looked so delicate and harmless, just a flat, round, gold disc with strange etchings embossed into the gold. Quite extraordinary that it held so much power. I slipped it back into my shirt.
It was getting dark, the sun had set, and the early hint of twilight filled the gardens with shadows. I quickened my step, pulled my mottled green cloak closer, and hurried on. It was getting cold. I could hear faint footsteps behind me. I looked back, but there was no one there.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a dark shape appeared, moving steadily out of the shadows. I recognized who it was instantly.
“Damien!” I said, trying not to let the panic in my voice show.
He had threatened to teach me a lesson, and this was it, I presumed. Now he was here in a dark, deserted corner of the grounds with seven or eight of his minions, and I was all alone. Even if I shouted, everyone was too far away.
The Last of the Firedrakes Page 23
