Mia laughed. “And isn’t that precisely the point? If they’re looking at my chest, they won’t notice I’m nervous. And if I can make them more anxious than I am, throw them off guard, perhaps the advantage truly will be mine.”
****
There was no doubt about it, he was an idiot. Talon had the perfect opportunity to see Mia fail miserably before the council, and he hadn’t been able to go through with it. What had he been thinking, telling her to make them wait, to make them see her as in charge and strong instead of the frightened lass she’d been a single turning of the hourglass ago? The self-assured, proud, regal young woman now faced the council with her spine straight and her head held high. God Draka, she may not be one yet, but she certainly looked the part of a queen.
“Why do you even wish to take on such a challenge? Why not simply choose a man to rule in your place. It’s the barbarian way, barbarian custom even.”
Talon didn’t like Duke Algen Daggertoss, the spokesman for the barbarian council. His eyes were shifty, his mouth thin and hard, his skin pasty white, and he’d gone to flab from inactivity and over-indulgence. But then, he couldn’t say he particularly liked any of the twelve, high ranking barbarians who sat upon the council or even any of the observers in the audience, for that matter. None of them, not even a little bit.
Every single eye in the great hall was trained on Mia, and it wasn’t her face or what she was saying they were paying the most attention to. His fingers itched, and he longed to run his sword through the entire group as they sat there in all their pomp and self-importance. Just a bunch of horny youths in dirty old men bodies, the lot of them.
Sighing, he shook his head. Could he really blame any man with a pulse for starring at the sight openly displayed before their eyes? Not that the almost see-through, purple lace tunic hadn’t been bad enough, but Mia’s buff breeks fit so snug they literally kissed the contours of her ass cheeks, leaving little or nothing to the imagination. And the way her long, rich, dark cinnamon braid slapped that ass with every move she made had him wishing he could bend her over his knee this very moment and do a little playful spanking of his own. His cock hardened.
“Now that was a good point, don’t yout agree? A princess should care enough about her people to want to rule them herself. How else is she to know the job is being done properly?”
Talon glanced toward Walaford Titwilder, Academy hand-to-hand combat instructor, and one of Mia’s many pseudo cousins. He’d forgotten the man was even standing beside him. “What?”
The half-troll, half-gnome shook his large green head, his tusks gleaming even in the low light of the hall. “Yout aren’t paying a bit of attention to anything being said, are yout? How do yout mean to help Mia with her challenge if yout don’t know her reasons for doing what she’s doing in the first place?”
Anger filled him. Not at Wally, but at himself. “I’m not supposed to help her,” he hissed. “Just the opposite, matter of fact. I’m to see she fails.”
Wally shook his head again. “Ahh, Zander, he’s afraid she’ll get herself hurt, or worse, isn’t he?”
Talon nodded.
“Silly, silly man,” Wally sighed. “Not that I blame him for wanting to keep his sister safe. I have one myself, and I’d die for her. But some things are better left to destiny. I say if Mia’s determined to take on Queen Adrina’s Challenge, we should give her all the assistance we can.”
Talon nervously ran his fingers through his hair. “I promised on my honor I’d protector her with my life, even if that means undermining her.”
Wally chuckled. “But did Zander tell yout at what point to start undermining?”
It was Talon’s turn to shake his head.
“Then let the lass at least have a fair try at the first quest before yout go sabotaging her. What can it hurt? I mean, what are the chances she’ll actually succeed even with our help and without any outside interference? I know my cousin. She’s a pink bows, pretty dresses, and cotton candy princess. Always has been, always will be. At the very first sign of danger, she’ll go running home. She needs this experience, though, Talon. Years from now, when she’s sitting beside her king, she can at least tell herself and her children that she tried.”
Wally had a point. And it wouldn’t technically be going against Zander’s dictates if he spent a little time encouraging Mia, especially with the first quest. After all, there would be two quests after that one. And if she didn’t fail with the first, she was bound to fail on one of those, even without his direct interference.
Wally was right. Mia was very much a soft, spoiled little princess used to getting her way and having the world handed to her on a silver platter. Even if he did nothing but stand close by her side, guard her back, and be her friend, she wasn’t strong enough or smart enough or even barbarian enough to succeed. All he had to do to maintain his honor, to keep his word to his best friend, was to make sure she wasn’t harmed.
“What do you mean you’ve not decided upon the first quest in my challenge yet? Then why have I been summoned? Why have you wasted my time? I’ve already missed my first class of the day.”
Talon’s head snapped up at the sound of distress in Mia’s voice.
Duke Algen Daggertoss tsk-tsked Mia, and then smiled at her indulgently, as if he needed to explain the theory behind basic magic or addition and subtraction to a simpleton. Talon wanted to smash his face in. “We simply wanted to make sure you were serious before we wasted our time coming up with an adequate set of quests. After all, you aren’t very big, you know, let alone very strong, and you haven’t shown an outstanding aptitude for anything except shopping as far as we know.”
He tsk-tsked her again, and Talon was half way across the floor of the great hall before he realized he was even moving.
“As a matter of fact, deary, considering what you are known for, it’s sometimes hard to remember you’re barbarian at all.”
Mia stood her ground. “I’m as much barbarian as any of you. I’ve taken the same exact classes on ruling that my brother Zander did, and I’ll have you know I got high marks in all of them.”
The duke chuckled, though the sound was anything but humorous. “Being a good little school girl doesn’t mean you’ll make a good queen. A woman barbarian enough to rule over Alaria, to rule over men, must be fearless. She must be strong, she must be smart, and she must be brave. She can’t be some little twit who looks more like her human grandmother than she does her barbarian father. Go home little girl. Come back when you’re all grown up. Come back when you’re a real barbarian. If you ever become one.”
Talon was going to kill him. Just as soon as he could reach the duke, he was going to rip his tongue right out of his throat and shove it up his ass. He’d show the bastard what a barbarian was. Perhaps Mia wasn’t big, and perhaps she wasn’t as strong or mean as she probably needed to be in order to rule. And yes, she was young, but what she didn’t have in experience, Talon had no doubt, she’d more than make up for in heart. It didn’t even matter that he himself meant to interfere with her efforts, eventually. Duke Algen Daggertoss sure as VoT wasn’t going to stop her today.
The sight of something shiny whizzed from Mia’s hand and through the air and slammed into the back of the duke’s chair. The duke’s blood curdling screech rent the air.
He couldn’t believe it. Mia, sweet, gentle, wouldn’t hurt a fly, Princess Mia Hammerstrike had thrown a dagger at Duke Algen Daggertoss. And had not just thrown it but had sliced the bastard’s left ear half off. The duke was holding what remained as blood dripped through his fingers, and the man was sobbing like a baby.
“Was that barbaric enough for you?” Mia shouted. “Or would you fine gentlemen of the council like further demonstration?”
She pulled out another dagger from only God Draka knew where, and Talon stood with his mouth agape. All he could think was, he wished to VoT Zander were here to see his little sister. He couldn’t have been more proud of her if she’d cut the lot of them w
ith one throw.
An older barbarian and the current governor of Bane, the Earl Theodosius Swordwielder stood, the look on his face grave. Talon was surprised the normally very friendly man, who most simply called Theo, appeared as if he were about to chastise Mia for what she’d done.
The earl cleared his throat. “I don’t believe that’ll be necessary, Princess Amelia. Put your blade away. Trust me. You’ve proven your barbarism beyond any doubts this council may have had. Now go about your business until we’ve made our decision concerning the first quest, please.” He glanced toward his fellow council members. “I do believe this meeting is adjourned.”
Chapter Seven
Mia’s hands were still trembling a full turn of the hourglass after almost cutting Duke Daggertoss’s ear. She clasped them in her lap in order to keep the shaking to a minimum. The memory of bright red blood dripping through his fingers and running down the shoulder of his previously downy white councilor’s robe had her stomach rolling and bile rising.
She gagged.
What the VoT had she been thinking throwing a sharp object at anyone, let alone at Alistair Daggertoss’s father, who happened to also be the leader of the council? She’d obviously lost her mind.
“Who can tell me the five basic principles of mind control? Anyone? Speak up, don’t be shy.”
Mia sighed as she glanced up at her instructor. What was wrong with her today? She should know the answer to that question without even thinking, yet her mind was strangely blank. This was Mysticism 101, for God Draka’s sake, and Lady Krystalynn, the petite, blonde, human mystic arts instructor, who was staring hopefully at the occupants of the classroom, deserved so much more than the piss-poor showing she was getting.
How long had she herself anticipated and dreamed and studied and waited for this very series of classes to begin? She’d been preparing for this moment, this semester, her entire life, and now she couldn’t even concentrate on what was being asked? Her mind kept going back to and over her meeting with the council.
God Draka, she could’ve killed the man, and she hadn’t even been aiming for his fat, stupid head. Though she’d taken her share of dagger tossing lesions from Uncle Leeky, as Kit had, she was in no way, shape, or form any kind of rogue. VoT, she wasn’t even a poor substitute for a rogue’s left arse cheek.
No, she hadn’t been directing her toss toward any part of the duke. It had been the huge, un-missable wall behind the odious man’s head she’d been aiming for. After all, how could anyone, with even a day’s worth of training, fail to hit an entire wall?
But she had.
She smiled to herself. Though she’d undoubtedly regret to her dying day that she’d harmed another living, breathing being, the look on Talon’s and Wally’s faces had almost made up for her mortification. It wasn’t horror or disappointment or even disbelief she’d seen in their eyes. It was pride.
“Come now, someone must know the five most basic principles of mind control. It’s something young children are taught in early prep school, for God Draka’s sake.”
Mia wanted to answer but, instead, found herself mesmerized. Then she realized it was something about Lady Krystalynn’s eyes. They were such a bright, pure sky blue. They were piercing, almost hypnotic. She strained to get a closer peek at the mystic instructor’s entire face. Why had she not noticed before how very lovely Lady Krystalynn was? Tiny lines around the woman’s eyes attested to the fact she laughed often and well. She even had a smattering of pale freckles across her pert, little human nose, and her lips were full and cherry red, her smile inviting. She was so stunning; it was hard to look away.
And then it came back to her, and with a shake of her head, Mia easily broke the trance. She cleared her throat and raised her hand.
Lady Krystalynn nodded. “Yes, Princess Hammerstrike?”
Mia cleared her throat. “The five basic principles of mind control are eye-contact, concentration, probing, hypnosis, and the ability not to be the one who blinks first.”
Lady Krystalynn blinked twice. “Bravo, Princess Hammerstrike. I thought you might be the first to break my little spell. I sense old magic in you. I have to admit, however, I’m surprised it took you so long. Let alone the entire rest of the class completely failing to recognize I was controlling them.”
The mystic teacher shook her head and addressed the room at large. “I realize this portion of class is basic mysticism lecture, and more than a few of you are simply trying to fulfill your electives. But trust me in this, learning the art of controlling or simply influencing the mind of another is no laughing matter. It would be in your best interest to pay close attention.”
Lady Krystalynn looked directly at Mia. “Especially you, Princess Hammerstrike. As all of you well know, High Mystic Purrell teaches the lab portion of mysticism, and he has a special, shall we say, affinity for pretty, little redheads. If you are the least bit weak minded or distracted to the point you have difficulty breaking spells, then God Draka help you when the High Mystic catches you at your most vulnerable.” She shuddered. “The things I’ve seen, the stories I could tell.”
Heat crept up Mia’s neck and flooded her cheeks. What had she been thinking letting her mind drift, especially in a class like mysticism? She knew better. She’d faithfully studied the ways of the mystic all her life. Wanting and needing to understand her spiritmaster legacy. At least the small part of it she’d been lucky enough to inherent.
And what, if anything, could she do about High Mystic Purrell? Today wasn’t the first time she’d heard his name. Her mother had already warned her about the odious man’s superb powers of persuasion and weird obsession with cocks. And if truth be told, it hadn’t been just her mother who’d warned her, either, but every single one of her aunts, and pseudo aunts.
They’d all told her the same exact thing. In order to survive one of High Mystic Purrell’s classes with her mind not only intact, but still her own, there was one cardinal rule of mysticism she must never break. Pay attention, pay attention, pay attention.
Pay attention to every single detail no matter how small or insignificant it may seem at the time. Pay attention to every thought that comes to mind and analyze its origin to make sure it was her own and not planted. And pay special attention to the actions of those around her, no matter how innocent appearing.
It was a rule she certainly hadn’t adhered to very well today.
She sighed. It was imperative to be ever vigilant. To never, not ever, for any reason let her mind simply wander while in the presence of another mystic. Especially not within the range of someone as powerful as High Mystic Purrell. The man was a complete and total pervert.
She shuddered, and goose bumps prickled her arms.
Mia locked gazes with her instructor. “Trust me. I’ll be more diligent in the future.”
****
Mia missed having a girlfriend to talk to. She missed Kit. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. They’d planned on attending The Academy of Magical Arts together. They’d talked about it for years, planned every detail. They’d spent more turns of the hourglass than she could remember discussing their clothes, their classes, their dorm rooms, and even who their boyfriends would be. But now Kit and Zander were married. The dream was over, she was all alone, and nothing would ever be the same again.
She glanced around the crowded lunch room. It was the strangest sensation to not see one single face that was even remotely familiar. And it was even stranger to realize no one was looking at her, watching her, following her, seeking her audience, trying to catch her eye, or happy to see her. For the first time in ever so long, she was as much of a stranger to these people, as they were to her. It was freeing…almost. But then again, it was somewhat creepy in its deviation from what she’d always considered normal.
Loneliness washed over her. Then she chuckled to herself. Would she never be satisfied with the hand life dealt her? How many times over the past few years had she longed for this very situation? To be no mor
e than simply another face in the crowd, a stranger, nobody special, if even for a short while?
But then, sitting all alone while eating her mostly cold lunch without being scrutinized wasn’t the real reason behind her feelings of loneliness. It was because Kit wasn’t here, and to boot, Talon Starkweather wasn’t anywhere around to interrupt her bout of self-pity. And even though she hated to admit it, especially to herself, it was more than that. She missed the sight of him, the sound of his voice, the scent of his skin, his smile, his touch. How much longer would he stay out hunting with Pearl? After all, how long could it take to fill up the belly of one little bitty dragon?
That thought brought her up short. When had Talon Starkweather’s whereabouts or doings become important in the least? They shouldn’t be, especially since she was determined to take on Queen Adrina’s challenge. There was no time or room in her life for distractions, especially the male barbarian type. And what did the oh-so-arrogant man really matter in the scheme of things anyway? No matter how much her heart disagreed, he was nothing to her. He was Zander’s friend, and though a Sir in his own right due to his service to her brother, he was still a commoner by birth. Even though his father had once been Magistrate of Bane. A fact she’d best not forget.
And so what if Talon wasn’t here at her beck and call. There were certainly plenty of other males in the lunch room as worthy of her gaze, her attention, and who could surely take her mind off missing her best friend and the too-sexy-for-his-own-good barbarian. Weren’t there? After all, wouldn’t it be a shame if she wasted this rare opportunity of getting to look her fill while not being scrutinized herself? Why, it would almost be a sin if she didn’t relax, sit back, and absorb the ambiance of the room, of The Academy? It would be prudent even.
With a smile, Mia sipped her tea, nibbled her scone, and indulged in one of her favorite pastimes, people watching.
At a table across the room from her sat three high elf males chatting gaily. Their bright blue eyes twinkled with mischief, and their crisply pointed ears twitched every time they laughed. They were all blond, long legged, broad chested, and if the white novice tunics they were wearing was any indication, they were first year healers. A blush heated her cheeks. She’d heard tales about the healer program and what went on behind those closed doors.
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