Academy of Falling Kingdoms Box Set

by Marisa Mills

  Dorian lowered himself onto a sofa, setting his book on the table before him. I recognized the leather binding of my father’s journal.

  Grab it and run, Lucian said.

  Right, because Dorian wouldn’t be right behind me.

  Not if I stop him, Lucian said in a sing-song voice.

  Tempting. There was no reason not to read the journal, and Dorian might even let me, if I just asked him. But this felt like a test of some sort, the way he’d just left it out in the open like that. Did he know I’d been looking for it the other night? Or maybe he was just distracted by recent events.

  I drifted through the room, looking around. I couldn’t remember if I’d seen this one or not. It was hard to believe there were still more rooms to discover in Dorian’s mansion, and some day it could all be mine. It looked like it had been pretty, once upon a time, but it was clear Dorian had been using it as a private study. There were a few books scattered over tables, and exotic white flowers in vases that gave off a sweet scent. It mingled with the smell of a half eaten plate of food and the burnt tobacco, from a porcelain dish holding cigar stubs. Chairs lined the wall, they’d probably been pushed out of the way to clear the floor for Dorian’s pacing. I traced a finger over the heavy, velvet curtains and drew them back only enough to peer out at the estate grounds, which ran all the way to the edge of Reverie.

  “What is this room?” I asked.

  “It was my mother’s favored room for entertainment,” Dorian replied. “When my sisters and I were more marketable, my mother would bring potential suitors here and have us entertain them. Sometimes, she met aristocrats here, too, if she really wanted to show how good of a mother she was.”

  I stopped before a large, framed portrait. I immediately recognized Guinevere, my mother. She sat on an elegant, gilded loveseat with an open book in her lap. Her brown hair was pulled back and decorated with delicate, blossoms that matched the pink of her dress. She looked so much like me—the hair, the blue eyes, and the shy smile—that it left me breathless. Beside her, another woman sat, leaning forward as if she’d decided to see what Gwen was reading. Eleanor, obviously. Dorian stood behind them, although it took me a few seconds to recognize him; his hair looked several shades lighter, more blond than brown.

  “Do you dye your hair?” I asked.

  “No, but I used to see the sun more often, then,” Dorian said. “So my hair was considerably lighter.”

  There was something weirdly familiar about how Dorian looked as a teenager, but I couldn’t place why. He was very handsome, of course, but there was something—

  Maybe it’s familiar because you know how he looks now, Lucian said.

  No, that wasn’t it.

  “I always hated sitting for portraits,” Dorian said. “My mother hired this wonderful artist, but he insisted on having absolute silence to complete his work. Can you imagine me being silent and still for hours at a time? It was torturous.”

  I smiled but kept my eyes on Guinevere’s soft, thoughtful face.

  “Would my mother have liked me?” I asked.

  “She’d have adored you,” Dorian replied. “You’re so much like her that it still surprises me. Sometimes it’s almost like having her back; like I’ve journeyed through time. You’ve her selflessness and her bravery.”

  I drifted away from the portrait and considered my father’s journal. My eyes darted to Dorian. His sly, blue eyes remained fixed firmly on my face. I felt as though I was being sized up. I sat in a chair a few feet away from Dorian, and grabbed a mug of abandoned tea from the table. It was cold, but it quenched my thirst. I tried to ignore the journal, but it seemed to taunt me; all my father’s secrets so close at hand.

  “So why are you really here?” Dorian asked. “I’m sure you didn’t come just because you enjoy my company.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek. Why was I here? Dorian was my rock, and he always seemed to know what to do. What was I going to do without him?

  “I saw the king today,” I said. “He basically told me I should become the Rosewood heiress and marry his son. But only if I behave, of course.”

  “That’s a generous offer,” Dorian said. “Which son?”

  “Not funny,” I frowned. “I don’t know what he plans to do about Viviane, unless he already knows she’s not really Eleanor’s daughter. And it all depends on you being out of the picture.”

  “We all die someday,” Dorian said. “Rarely the date of our own choosing.”

  “Did you know he’s sending you to Aubade, to steal their demons? At least, I think that’s his plan for you. If you succeed, you’ll be destroying a kingdom. You’ll be no better than Celeste was, when she tried to sabotage Reverie.”

  “And if I fail, I’ll either return dead or disgraced. Either way the king wins.”

  “It isn’t fair,” I said. “The king is going to destroy a whole kingdom that hasn’t done anything wrong, just to keep Reverie powered longer. It’s unsustainable. It would be better to just free all the demons and let the mages adjust to life without magic.”

  “You say that as if it’s the easiest thing in the world,” Dorian said. “But most people will die to protect their way of life. How’s Du Lac?”

  “He’s alive,” I said. “That’s all I know.”

  “It’s a miracle he is,” Dorian replied. “Fran suspects he didn’t consume enough of the poison, so whatever he ate or drink, he didn’t finish it. Thankfully, for him. His symptoms indicate that it was probably nightshade.”

  “Do you think…” I trailed off. “Are the poisonings related to the rebels, and the list of crimes they were carrying? Or was someone after Du Lac for another reason? Kai was asking how he arrived so quickly after the water demon attack; you don’t think he could be in league with Celeste, do you?”

  “Well, it’s unlikely, unless he poisoned himself,” Dorian said. “Du Lac is cunning, and ambitious. But ultimately, I think he’s annoyingly righteous in his loyalty to Reverie. He will protect his position, and he’s no friend of the crown, but I don’t think he would sabotage the Council.”

  “It has to be someone with access to both the Palace and the Academy,” I said. “I don’t know. It feels like there’s too much happening at once.”

  “You said the king is in town?” Dorian asked.

  “He’s speaking at the forum,” I said. “Alexander is already there.”

  “I suppose we should find out what he’s going to say,” Dorian said, “since it will no doubt affect the both of us.”

  “I don’t think I’m even supposed to be there; Kit is keeping the students locked up at the Academy.”

  “Then we’ll go together,” he said, climbing to his feet. I stood reluctantly. I wasn’t eager to see the king again, and I didn’t want to interrupt what could be Dorian’s last night home with Francisca. But at least I’d get to spend more time with Dorian, and maybe we would learn something useful. Dorian turned off the lights, and my eyes darted once more to my father’s journal. My fingertips touched the soft, cracking spine. I looked back at Dorian and found him watching me.

  “If you want it,” Dorian said softly. “Take it.”

  “Thank you,” I replied, as I picked the journal off the table.

  ***

  I followed Dorian out of the manor. He swept a dark cloak over his shoulders as he hurried down the steps. My fingers kept stroking the cracked, leather spine of my father’s journal. It was really here, in my hands again. “You may want to keep it hidden. I imagine Nathanial may still want it returned to him,” Dorian said, as we headed towards town.

  “How did you know I stole it from professor Gareth?”

  “You think I’d rely on you as my sole source for information?” he smirked. “I’m beginning to wonder if you know me at all.”

  Dorian offered his arm, as usual, and we walked to the forum. In the afternoon light I could see that his dark suit had a purple hue. With his ebony cane, tall feathered
hat and the ghostly white of his injured eye, he would have made a laughable figure in the Scraps. Up here, he barely raised an eyebrow. I wondered if it was the absence of royal guards or if the people living near his estate were so familiar with him that his presence no longer drew any notice. Dorian didn’t say another word as we hurried through the crystal roads of Reverie. The streets were mostly empty, and the silence grated across my nerves.

  Do you want me to trip him, so you have something to talk about? Lucian asked.

  No.

  I cleared my throat. We didn’t get to finish talking at the estate, and I felt like there were things we should say to each other, in case we didn’t get another chance.

  “I think I’ll miss you,” I said.

  “After all the trouble I’ve put you through? You really shouldn’t,” Dorian replied.

  An undefinable, anxious fear struck me, and I fixed my eyes straight ahead. I knew instinctively that this would all be much harder if I looked at Dorian.

  “But you missed your mother when she died, and she treated you far more poorly than you’ve treated me,” I said.

  “It’s not a contest of who has suffered the most. Poor treatment is still poor treatment, regardless of how it’s packaged.”

  “I know,” I replied, “but I still don’t want you to die.”

  “I’ll try my best not to,” Dorian said. “Or at least, I’ll take a few of Aubade’s mages with me first.” I bit my lip, hating to see him joke so freely about death.

  A large crowd was already gathered, filling the rows of benches that ringed the public courtyard and spilling over into the side streets. Dorian pulled us through a back alley, then pulled out his sword. With a few quick slashes and whispered words, he’d created a ladder of ice to the roof, which gave us a nice view of the proceedings.

  The Forum had been cleaned and repaired since my punishment, but it still brought a shudder to my skin to be so close to the site of my public shaming. The platform had been turned into a stage, and the king was already standing with his arms raised, dressed in dark furs and heavy gold chains. Alexander stood next to him, and behind them I recognized Art and Gaston. People were shouting questions, mostly about the earthquake. The king’s eyes swept the crowd, and I moved further back away from the edge, trying to hide in the shadows. I didn’t want to be noticed.

  “People of Reverie!” King Gregory called. “I’ve brought my sons to help us restore order after the most recent earthquake, which caused tremendous damage. My troops are also aiding those injured or dislocated after the event. However, as bad as the last quake was, it is my duty to inform you that it will only get worse. It is also time you learned the truth about what’s really causing these quakes.”

  The crowd silenced, hushing each other so they could hear.

  “As we know from myth and legend, a great flood once wiped out the cities down below. Our ancestors discovered a source of magic, and channeled its energy to save mankind, by creating the first floating kingdoms. However that technology is weakening rapidly.”

  Murmurs raised from the crowd, but the king raised his arms again.

  “The Council and I have been working together on a solution, and you’ll be happy to know that we recently regained access to the chamber and have a plan to save Reverie. However, the kingdom of Aubade has decided to take advantage of our plight. Already, their spies have infiltrated our most hallowed chambers, threatening our very way of life with treachery, intent on destroying us for good. Along with a recent attempt at terrorism, which thankfully we discovered and thwarted, they have managed to poison both my wife, the queen, and Markus Du Lac, the current headmaster of the Academy.”

  There were gasps from the crowd at this, and even though it wasn’t news, I was surprised he was sharing so much with the people of Reverie.

  He’s turning the public against Aubade, to put pressure on the Council.

  “Due to the increased security threat, the kingdom will be implementing several important new policies. Firstly, all trade and travel to and from Reverie will be subject to greater scrutiny. There will also be an increased presence of royal guards throughout the kingdom, and we ask that you cooperate with any tasks that may be asked of you.”

  As he said this, at least twenty guards strode from the sides, lining up to either side of the king. Their black and silver armor reflected the deepening orange hue of the darkening sky.

  “To ensure the safety of our young mages, students at the Academy will be unable to leave the Academy without an escort, starting from today. We may also question any students from whom we suspect involvement with Aubade or their agents. While we hope to avoid war, if possible, we also need to prepare for the eventuality. The ban on blood magic is temporarily lifted, and we have begun gathering Reverie’s most powerful ancient artefacts from the kingdom’s noble families. Some of them have even volunteered to lead an advanced brigade, to secure our assets, before gathering intelligence on Aubade’s forces, should a full conflict become necessary. They will be leaving tomorrow morning to began gathering the kingdom’s resources. That way, should the Lower Realms become ravaged by Aubade’s armies, Reverie will remain relatively unscathed.”

  I held my father’s journal so tightly that my knuckles hurt. Dorian was leaving tomorrow, and the king was picking a fight with a rival kingdom, knowing that thousands of people lay exposed in the shadow of Reverie. I had to warn Briar and Sterling.

  “As for the citizens from Aubade already within our borders, we will hold them here indefinitely. Should war become unavoidable, as I fear it may be, they may help us in negotiating a favorable treaty, once Aubade sees that they cannot defeat us on the battlefield. If necessary, they’ll be executed as traitors.”

  He paused to let the statement sink in, and somehow, he met my eyes. He’d found me, even in my nondescript clothing, out of hundreds of people in the crowd.

  Maybe it was Dorian’s hat, Lucian said.

  He smirked before continuing, and I knew his statement was meant just for me.

  “We realize these changes may present an inconvenience, but we ask everyone’s cooperation during this dangerous time.”

  The king stepped down, and it was like a floodgate had opened as the crowd reached forward, shouting their questions. Some of them even pushed against the row of guards, but they lifted their square shields, flashing the winged lion symbols that had been etched into the wood with metal.

  “Let’s get you back,” Dorian said quietly, eyeing the ugly crowd. “If he wanted to stir up passions, he’s certainly done it. Besides, it seems I have less time than I expected to order my affairs.

  I let him guide me away from the forum and back to the Academy, though I was barely aware of the streets as we passed them. My mind was racing; the king had shared so much detail, and at least half of it had been true, but he left out essential features. We still didn’t know that Aubade was really responsible for Celeste’s attack, and they had nothing to do with the earthquakes.

  As far as we know, they aren’t behind the poisonings either, Lucian added. Though it doesn’t matter now. He created fear and gave them a target. I doubt the Council or Nobility will resist his war as much now.

  “Promise me that—if I die—you won’t follow those dreadful mourning customs,” Dorian said, after a few moments. “See if you can persuade my sister to forgo those, too. Poor Eleanor is so pale, she can’t wear black without looking like she’s wasting away from consumption. That was the worst part of Mother’s death—having to look at my sister in those awful black dresses for the better part of a year.”

  Eleanor had looked gorgeous in those black dresses, and I was sure he knew it.

  “I’ll wear light blue,” I said, blinking away the tear forming in the corner of my eye.

  Dorian shook his head. “You’ll wear scarlet,” he said. “Following my death, Alexander will likely feel exceptionally tender towards you, so it’s a good time to draw his attention. R
ed is his favorite color.”

  Was that why Viviane wore it so often? I’d assumed she just really liked it.

  “Are you trying to marry me off?” I asked.

  “No. But wouldn’t you like to be a princess?”

  “I don’t know if I’d even be comfortable being a countess,” I said. “And I still don’t understand politics.” Not to mention the argument I’d had with Alexander earlier. It was weird that both Dorian and Gregory were trying to push us together. I was still warm to him, but sometimes it felt like we’d never resolve our differences. What was it the king had said?

  All of his sons come around, eventually.

  “That’s why you’d have advisors and a good staff,” Dorian replied. “Surely, you don’t think I manage all the Rosewood affairs by myself, do you?”

  “No, probably not,” I admitted.

  “Whatever you lack, you buy. And it’s significantly easier to if you have someone you love and trust at your side. You’ll be one of the few aristocrats who will have a choice. Most of us were married off without much say,” Dorian said.

  “Not you,” I said.

  “Mother tried,” Dorian said, “but Guinevere’s death made marriage to me a very unattractive option. No one wanted to risk my sister’s madness appearing in our children.”

  Was she even really mad? Lucian asked. She gave up her lover, and her child, but did she forfeit her own life as well?

  “I imagine you made yourself a hard sale, too,” I replied, ignoring Lucian. I didn’t want to think about Guinevere right now, and what difference did it make how someone died decades ago, when Dorian was leaving in the morning?

  “Perhaps, a little. Mother so seldom allowed me opportunities for mischief,” Dorian said, “and I don’t know that Fran would’ve been quite as content to be my mistress if she had to share me with a wife. She’s quite jealous.”

  “She’s going to be heartbroken, Dorian.”

  “Nonsense,” Dorian replied. “My death would hardly wound a strong woman like her.”