by Wendy Knight
Richard’s eyes lit with a cruel glow. “Now that would be madness, wouldn’t it?” With detached interest he studied the dead, still burning men lying on his road. “I’ll see you tomorrow, perhaps, for our next experiment?” Without another word, he turned on his heel and went back to the manor. Flames finally broke through the skin of some of the men, and enveloped their bodies in an inferno, leaving them as nothing but piles of ash.
“Christian, we have to leave this place,” Scarlett whispered.
Christian helped her to her feet, looping her arm over his shoulder. She had always been taller than him, but overnight he had grown so that her arm could not lie comfortably over his shoulder. He had to stoop to help her walk.
He did not respond.
She was silent even after they went into the cottage and he settled her in the armchair, wrapping a blanket across her lap. He made her tea and brought in warmed biscuits. “You won’t leave, will you? Not now,” she finally said.
Christian sat across from her. “Did you see what I did? What I was capable of?”
She looked down, studying the tea that threatened to slosh over the sides of her cup as her hand shook. “Yes, Christian. I did. And that’s what I’m afraid of.”
****
“Ada, honestly. You act like I’m sending you to the gallows, not to meet the queen. Every young woman gets this honor.” Vivian heaved one of her over-dramatic sighs — the kind that grated on Ada’s very last nerve.
“Not every young woman. Only the ones Society thinks are acceptable.” Ada fingered the elaborate stitching of her white dress. It was beautiful. Beyond beautiful, actually. And Charity had done an amazing job taming her wild curls into a delicate twist. But this wasn’t just a normal social outing, the kind Ada had been dragged to every spare chance over the last several weeks. This was Queen Anne, the monarch of all of England. What if the woman realized Ada’s own father was a traitor to the crown? What if she realized Ada herself was an Edren warrior and not fit for polite society? What if Ada fell down in front of all those people or her curtsy fell flat? Ada swallowed hard. Facing a field full of angry sorcerers was much less terrifying than facing the queen.
“Just think, after your introduction to the queen, we’ll go to a grand ball and all the callers that have visited this past fortnight will be begging for a spot on your dance card.” Vivian’s eyes practically danced with excitement.
Ada felt like she might pass out. Or vomit. “Why don’t we take this slowly? One day at a time. We’ll meet the queen today,” she smoothed an imaginary wrinkle in the beautiful white dress, “and tomorrow… or next week, we can go to a grand ball.” She nodded enthusiastically, hoping her mother would agree.
“Don’t be silly, Ada. The ball tonight is to celebrate meeting Queen Anne and your introduction to Society. Come now, the carriages are arriving.”
Ada turned wild, panicked eyes to Charity, who stood near the windows, watching proudly.
“You will do wonderfully, Ada,” her friend said, clearly missing Ada’s silent plea for help.
Ada opened her mouth, but she could produce no words. Wonderful. Fear had rendered her mute. The queen would be very impressed by her lack of social skills.
“Ada, now, please.” Vivian picked up her skirts, deliberately sweeping them outward as she sauntered from the room and down the stairs.
“Charity, help me. I cannot do this,” Ada whispered fiercely — rushing across the room, secretly thrilled by the rustle of her silk skirts — and embraced Charity.
Charity giggled quietly, wrapping her thin arms around Ada’s shaking shoulders. “You will do magnificently. The queen will love you — everyone will love you. They will not be able to look elsewhere.”
Ada pulled back, stifling a screech with a fist to her mouth. Charity raised an eyebrow, fighting a smile.
Lowering her fist, Ada whimpered. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Ada! Now!” Vivian bellowed.
Charity lost her battle fighting the smile, and a grin broke across her pale face. “One would almost think she’s a lady, until she opens her mouth.”
With one last hug, she turned Ada gently and pushed her from the room. “I will be right here, eagerly awaiting your return so you can tell me everything.”
Ada paused in the threshold, turning and grabbing Charity’s wrist. “Come with me. We’ll introduce you as well. We can be sisters! No one will know.”
Charity chuckled, prying Ada’s fingers one by one from her arm. “This is one experience I do not want to share with you, dear friend.”
Ada whimpered one last time before grabbing up her skirts and racing down the stairs. The staff stood silently as she hurried past them, but she felt their eyes on her. “Oh, Heaven help me.”
As with everything in London, meeting the queen was not at all like Ada had expected. In a large banquet room, an astounding number of girls in beautiful white gowns waiting anxiously, slowly forming into a line that led out the door and disappeared down the hall. Like sheep being herded. There were also throngs of others come to observe. “All these people will watch me?” Ada asked Vivian, speaking just loud enough that her mother could hear her over the din.
Vivian didn’t look at Ada as she answered, her attention caught up with the people all around them. “No. When you get to the throne room, the doors will shut behind us. I will stay in the threshold and it will be only you and the queen. “ Suddenly Vivian’s light brown eyes snapped to Ada’s face with a stern glare, “And her Edren guards, of which you are to take no notice.”
Ada nodded, and Vivian went back to people-watching. Eventually her mother found herself bored of Ada’s silent company and went to mingle, leaving Ada alone to stand for hours in a line that she wished would never move forward. It did, however, and every minute or so she would take another step closer to the door at the end of the hall. When there were only three girls in front of her, Ada looked for her mother, but Vivian was nowhere to be seen, and Ada faced the gigantic doors alone. And then they swung open and she was ushered in. She heard her name announced, “Ada Aleshire, daughter of Richard Aleshire, Duke of Adlington,” and she picked her skirts up with her forefinger and her thumb, just as she’d been taught. She held her head high and floated into the room, down the never-ending carpet to the throne. There was a small army of guards standing along the sides of the queen, and Ada wondered if they could feel her Edren blood like she could feel theirs. I’m not a sorceress. I’m not a sorceress. Just thinking it felt traitorous.
She nearly walked too close to the queen, catching herself at the last second when she saw the barest hint of a spark at the fingers of the Edren closest to her. She fell into a deep curtsy. “Your Majesty,” she murmured, averting her eyes.
“Welcome to London, my dear,” Queen Anne said, in falsely courteous tones.
Ada rose, nodding politely. The queen returned her nod and Ada, resisting the urge to grab up her skirts and run, turned slowly, allowing the long train of her dress to sweep around her, and walked from the room.
Vivian did not wait at the other side of the doors. But another familiar face greeted her. “Lady Charnock,” Ada said in surprise. Suddenly her knees felt weak and her vision blotched in front of her.
“My dear, you are remarkably pale. Sit down before you collapse.”
“I—I—” Ada stuttered.
“William!” Lady Charnock called. Ada could just see him slicing through the crowd. Taking her elbow, he led her to a chaise lounge in a quieter hallway.
“Thank you,” Ada whispered.
He sat down next to her. “You rush into battle and face down dozens of men, all bigger than you, without a thought, but meeting the queen makes you swoon?” Ada could hear the amusement in his voice and if it had been socially acceptable, she would have smacked him.
“Trust me. This is much, much more terrifying.”
Lady Charnock pressed a glass of something Ada worried might be champagne into her hand. But it was
cool, and Ada desperately needed cool. She raised it to her lips, silently crying when she realized that, yes, it was indeed champagne. She tried to swallow without making a face.
“Thank you,” she choked. She had never liked champagne, and she didn’t see that changing any time soon. She would never understand how people drank it willingly.
“Where is your chaperone?” William’s mother asked.
Ada sighed. “That, Lady Charnock, is a very good question indeed. I believe my mother forgot who she was accompanying here.”
“I will find her for you.” William rose and Ada tipped her head back to watch him. When not compared to Christian, he was very handsome.
“How will you know it’s her?” she asked, grateful that the splotches in her vision were fading.
“I will look for someone with the same beautifully unusual hair that you have.”
Ada felt her cheeks flush scarlet, and she fanned her face. “She has brown hair. No one knows where my black and red hair comes from. We look nothing alike.”
“Well then…” William looked around them as if Vivian would pop out of the nearest suit of armor. “I will look for someone blatantly ignoring her daughter on such an important day.”
Ada smiled. “If I may borrow your arm, I will help you look for her. With my eyes and your strength, we’re sure to find her eventually.”
William gallantly lent her his arm. “Are you going to the celebration ball this evening?” he asked as they negotiated their way through the crowd.
Ada could feel his pulse leap under her fingers and she hid a smile. “I believe I’m being coerced into going, yes.”
As he was much taller than she, he was able to look over the heads of the crowd, whereas she couldn’t even see around the man in front of her. “It’s a shame we can’t exchange heights,” she muttered.
He smiled down at her. “Perhaps if you describe her for me?”
Ada frowned, thinking. “She’s got light brown hair, a touch darker than yours, and light brown eyes. She’s about my height.” Ada’s eyes lit up, “Oh! And she’s wearing a bright blue gown with a large white bow.”
William’s eyes scanned the room. “Will you save me a space on your dance card?” he asked suddenly.
Ada’s jaw dropped. “Even knowing — knowing what I am?” she asked, leaning closer to him and whispering just loudly enough that only he could hear her.
His lips quirked in that ever-present smile of his. “Yes, even knowing what you are.”
She gaped at him, trying to form words that wouldn’t come. Somewhere nearby, a shrill laugh, like the whinny of a horse, made them both jump. Ada cringed. “Ah. That would be my mother.”
William fought his way through the crowd to find Vivian with a group of women. “Ada! Why aren’t you in line? We’ll be late for the ball at this rate!” Vivian exclaimed. Ada had the sudden urge to attack her with her father’s new favorite spell, but she refrained.
“Actually, Miss Aleshire has already met the queen and did so beautifully. You should be very proud,” William said.
For the first time, Vivian noticed the man whose arm Ada leaned on. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.” She extended a slim, gloved hand while her eyes raked William like a steer for sale.
“William Langley, son of the Earl of Charnock, Your Grace.” William bent low before briefly kissing and then releasing her hand.
“Why, we’re practically neighbors! What a shame we’ve never met before now.” Vivian clucked her tongue.
“Everyone is leaving to freshen up before the ball, Mother. I suggest we also go,” Ada said. The women behind Vivian all exchanged knowing glances. She’s been complaining about me again, Ada thought tiredly. Her mother glanced around the room, which was indeed emptying rather quickly. Lady Charnock waited, watching them warily. Don’t worry about my mother, Ada wanted to tell her, she’s not powerful enough to light a candle.
William followed Ada’s gaze and nodded. Taking Ada’s hand on his arm with gentle fingers, he raised it to his lips. “Do not forget to save me a spot on your dance card, Lady Aleshire.”
“I will not forget, Mr. Langley.” Warm shivers raced up her spine at the look in his eyes before he smiled and released her hand. Turning away, he went to retrieve his mother, and disappeared through the door.
“It seems you may have a suitor already, Miss Aleshire,” one of her mother’s friends said.
Ada flushed and forced a smile, but could not think of a thing to say that would meet her mother’s approval, so she remained silent.
The women seemed to not be in a hurry to leave at all, and Ada wandered the room, admiring the royal tapestries and artwork. She had strolled into a smaller, darker hallway when she caught sight of a light glow in her peripheral vision. Turning quickly, she nearly tripped over her train in surprise. “Charity! What are you doing here?” Charity’s eyes were glowing. With a sinking heart, Ada realized she was in the middle of a vision, and Governess Buttercroft wasn’t here to help her out of it. Ada hurried down the hall to the shadows where Charity waited impatiently, practically bouncing from one foot to the other. By now, the halls and sitting room were practically empty.
“There’s to be an attack on the queen, Ada. Any minute now! You must stop it!”
Ada froze. “An attack? But there are so many guards—”
Charity shook her head vehemently, cutting Ada off. “The guards have been distracted by the threat of a larger battle outside. Her personal guards are not powerful enough for the assassins. By the time the rest respond, Ada, they will be too late and not enough. You must save the queen!”
Ada had one brief moment of doubt — could Charity’s visions be trusted? Was she in her right mind? If Ada went racing into the throne room, it would ruin her socially, not to mention that the queen would probably think it an assassination attempt and have Ada beheaded.
But it was a chance Ada had to take. She hitched up her skirts and turned to run. “Not there, Ada! She’s upstairs, in the royal library!”
As Ada raced away, she felt a sharp pain in her head, much like her skull was splitting. And then Charity’s voice, “There are three French Edren assassins. They move in the shadows.”
Ada sprinted through the palace. Where were all the guards? All the Edren sorcerers she’d seen earlier? They couldn’t have all left to fight, could they? The hallways she ran through were like a tomb. And then she felt it — the pull of the battle, calling to the flames in her blood. The battle must already have begun, although how that could have happened without alerting all those still lingering to meet the queen was beyond her. She’d never understand royal movements, nor did she possess the desire to.
She turned down two wrong hallways before coming to a giant stained glass window overlooking the expansive royal gardens — and the battle. Bright red flames lit up the darkening evening sky as royal guards fought off the invaders. But the queen would still have her personal guards, wouldn’t she?
Sharp pain exploded through her head again, and then Charity’s voice, “Her guards are dead, Ada. Hurry!”
Ada shrieked, dropping her hands from where they clutched at her skull. She grabbed up her skirts again and whirled, tearing the magnificent train. She swore under her breath and raced away from the battle, the pull of which was so strong she thought half her soul was staying behind to fight it.
Another wrong hallway and then she finally found the grand staircase, which normally would have been blocked by many guards. But there was no one now, and she leaped up the stairs two at a time, tripping once over her blasted skirts before she reached the first landing. She had no idea where the royal library was, and got herself lost and confused several times before she remembered Harrison’s advice from that first battle. Let go. Let your magic lead you.
Swallowing hard, she stopped running and closed her eyes, trying to listen to the magic. Her governess had never told her about this. Her father certainly didn’t seem to know about it. Perhaps it was
one of the dying spells Harrison and Davis had mentioned. She felt the flames humming, pulling… in two different directions. And she knew what was behind her.
Her eyes flew open. She grabbed up her skirts once again, and ran.
She found her way to the library, bursting in through a second story doorway that led not to the library itself, but a balcony of sorts running all the way around the room. She could see down, but she couldn’t get down. From her vantage point, she realized at once why the queen had sought refuge here. There were multiple entrances, and the room was labyrinth, with so many places to hide, one might never be found. Her guards, however, had been found and lay, burned and dying, in the aisles. Ada raced around the balcony, her eyes on the floor below her, but she could see no assassins. And no queen, either. She had made it halfway around the incredibly large room and was thinking of leaving, trying a different room, or maybe that there was another library, when she remembered Charity’s voice. They hide in the shadows. She didn’t know what that meant, exactly, but she was tired of doubting and second guessing herself and Charity. Closing her eyes once again, she listened to the pull of her flames.
Directly below her. Of course. She could find a ladder, but by the time she did that and made her way down said ladder, in a ball gown, the queen would be dead and the assassins would be waiting to kill her as well. Biting her lip, she cursed again her fear of heights.
And threw herself over the banister.
Her billowy skirts flew up and wrapped around her, blinding her and, she was sure, showing a fair amount of skin. The queen, if she was still alive, would certainly renounce her welcome into polite society. Ada landed, taking a knee and shoving the skirts away from her face. The assassins were indeed hiding in the shadows, but they had been inching out and toward the queen, who now stood at Ada’s back. Ada rose, facing them — three there were, as Charity had said. She was the only thing standing between them and the Queen of England.
