“Just the crib notes,” Emily said. She’d grown used to Alassa reading all official communications from Zangaria, now that she was her father’s confirmed heir. “What does he want?”
“You’re going to Beneficence in a couple of days,” Alassa said. “On the way to Alexis, he’d like you to visit Swanhaven and give him your impression of the competing would-be rulers.”
Emily frowned. “Would-be rulers?”
“Baron Swanhaven was beheaded after the coup,” Alassa said. She closed her eyes, reciting from memory. “His son, who was up to his eyebrows in the plotting, was also killed. He’d wiped out most of his remaining family after his late wife gave him an heir, so the only two claimants to the Barony are Lord Hans and Lady Regina. Lady Regina has the closest claim, by blood, but Lord Hans has a penis. My father told them to share power - he appointed a regent to keep an eye on them - until he decided which one of them would inherit the position permanently.”
“I suppose they can’t get married,” Emily muttered.
“My father would probably not approve,” Alassa said. “Merging their competing claims would cause...problems with some of the other baronial bloodlines.”
“So right now they’re doing everything they can to win the favor of the king,” Imaiqah put in. “They’ll be trying to win your favor too.”
“Regina was one of the girls my mother thought would make a good companion for me when I was a child,” Alassa said. “She’s ambitious, very ambitious. I think she would have been purged too if she hadn’t been six years old when the heir was born. Baron Swanhaven might have considered her an ultimate fallback position for his line.”
Emily shrugged. “And what’s Lord Hans’s excuse?”
“I’ve never met him,” Alassa said. “He’s a couple of years older than Lady Regina, but I don’t think he ever spent time at court, toadying to my father. I have no idea why he was allowed to remain alive.”
“Maybe he just looked harmless,” Imaiqah suggested.
“There’s no such thing as a harmless nobleman, particularly one with a tenuous claim to a powerful position,” Alassa said. “Just being one of the few survivors would make him a potential threat to the baron.”
“And if he becomes baron,” Emily said, “he’ll become a potential threat to the king.”
“True,” Alassa agreed. “My father will have to make a decision soon, Emily. He’ll want your observations before he makes his final choice.”
Emily rolled her eyes. She didn’t pretend to understand all the complexities of ruling over a country that was still largely in the feudal ages, but she thought she understood the dilemma facing King Randor. His choice for baron would be instantly opposed by the other - who would be the sole heir if something happened to the first choice - while the newly appointed baron would be a potential threat to the king himself. Why not? The last set of barons had tried to overthrow and murder their liege lord, while enslaving his brother and daughter. Randor had to be very tempted to leave the matter unsettled as long as possible.
“I’ll go visit them on my way to the capital,” Emily said, softly. “Is there anything else I need to know?”
Alassa sighed. “I’ll be leaving tonight with Frieda, as we agreed,” she said. Emily had wanted to take the younger girl with her to Beneficence, but Lady Barb had vetoed the plan. “Imaiqah plans to stay to attend the goodbye feast tomorrow. I trust you have planned everything with Caleb?”
“We’re meeting this afternoon,” Emily said, glancing at her watch. They’d agreed to meet before dinner and go for a walk afterwards. “But we do have a plan.”
“Make sure you honor it,” Alassa said. “Courtships are just as bad as any other relationship, Emily; no one gives a damn about what you do as long as you do it properly.”
She frowned. “My father may wish to talk to you about that too.”
“My relationship with Caleb is none of your father’s business,” Emily said, stiffly.
“Yes, it is,” Alassa said, curtly. “You’re the Baroness of Cockatrice. If you and Caleb marry, he will automatically become both a high nobleman and the father of your children. My father has every right to disapprove of the match...”
“My personal life is still none of his business,” Emily insisted. She glared at the bed. “My predecessor chased so many women during his adult life that it was a wonder he found time to take part in a plot, yet no one gave a damn about his personal life.”
“None of those...relationships...included marriage,” Alassa said, firmly. “Whatever bastards he might have sired were never in line to inherit anything. I tell you, right now, that if he’d announced his intention to marry a shepherdess or swineherd my father would have objected violently.”
“Caleb is not a swineherd,” Emily snapped.
“Neither were the princes I was meant to consider, two years ago,” Alassa snapped back. “I was expected to marry one of them!”
Emily cocked her head. “And who would your father like me to marry?”
“Someone harmless,” Alassa said.
Emily opened her mouth to retort that Caleb was harmless, but Imaiqah spoke first. “It’s a question of bloodlines,” she said. “As long as you’re not planning to marry another baron, you’re probably fine.”
“He doesn’t control me,” Emily said, icily.
“No,” Alassa agreed. “But he does have good reason to worry about the future. The result of a bad choice, either for you or in Swanhaven, may not come to pass on his watch, but they will come to pass on mine.”
Emily nodded and grabbed her coat. “I’m going for a walk,” she said. She didn’t want to think about King Randor meddling in her relationships right now. “I’ll try and see you before you go, but if I don’t, please take care of Frieda.”
“I will,” Alassa said. “But try and speak to her first yourself.”
“I’ll do my best,” Emily agreed.
She gave Alassa a hug, walked through the door and strode down the corridor, too lost in her own thoughts to care about a handful of students shying away from her. King Randor had tricked her, three years ago, into taking the Barony - or, at least, he’d put her in a position where refusing would be very difficult. But she hadn’t really understood what she’d taken on, even after starting a handful of lessons most aristocratic children received from birth. She was the absolute mistress of the Barony, her word law for nearly a million men, women and children...
And she hated it.
She ground her teeth as she walked past a young boy standing in the middle of the corridor, frozen in place by a spell. King Randor had no right, no matter what he thought, to try to dictate to her. She could understand his concerns, intellectually, but she refused to concede that he had any authority to choose her boyfriend, let alone her future husband. Hell, by any reasonable standard, Caleb was a good choice. His family might be useful to the king, his father didn’t have that high a standing and Caleb himself was only the second in line to what standing the family did have. Emily had a feeling that Randor would approve, if she asked, but she didn’t want to ask. It wasn’t any of his concern.
“Duck,” someone shouted.
Emily held up a hand, hastily deflecting the freeze spell as a pair of young girls ran towards her. Their faces dropped so rapidly when they realized who they’d tried to freeze that it was almost comical; they’d not only attacked a girl two years above them, but the Necromancer’s Bane herself. Emily tried to give them a reassuring smile; they turned and fled the other way, as if they expected her to blast them both to ashes. She shook her head in dismay and made her way slowly down to the Armory. If Sergeant Miles was there...
“I’m afraid he’s supervising an exam,” Sergeant Harris said. He was a bald man who reminded Emily uncomfortably of Master Grey, although his face was badly scarred and one of his arms had been replaced with a golden prosthetic. “Can I help you with anything?”
“No, thank you,” Emily said. She didn’t know Sergeant Har
ris well; he’d joined Whitehall at the start of the year, but she’d spent most of her training with Master Grey. “I’ll try and find him later.”
“I believe he won’t be back for a week,” Sergeant Harris said. “You can leave a note, if you like.”
Emily cursed herself under her breath. The first year of Martial Magic included a long march into the countryside, then five days of living off the land while running through a series of increasingly dangerous exercises. Of course Sergeant Miles would be supervising. He’d supervised the exam she’d taken herself, three years ago. He wouldn’t be back until after she’d left.
“I will,” she promised. There should be time to scribble a note before she left the school and leave it in his office. “And thank you.”
She turned and walked back up the corridor as the dinner bell rang. One of the girls who’d fled from her stood to the side, frozen in place. Emily hesitated, then cast the counterspell and watched as the girl spun around, her eyes going wide when she saw Emily looking at her. The game of Freeze Tag would have come to an end, Emily was sure, now that the dinner bell had rung. But it was quite likely that her friends would forget she was there until she either managed to break the spell for herself or was caught and caned for being out after Lights Out.
“Go eat dinner,” she ordered, tiredly.
The girl gave her one last look and fled. Emily smiled and followed her at a more sedate pace until she reached the door. Caleb leaned against it, waiting for her. She gave him a quick hug and led the way into the Dining Hall, which was only half-full. Many of the younger students had already completed their exams and gone home for the holidays. They ate a quick dinner, chatting about nothing, and then left the building. There were a good three hours before Lights Out.
“My parents are looking forward to meeting you,” Caleb said, once they were walking up the mountainside. The warm air smelled faintly of flowers; insects buzzed past them, avoiding the two magicians with ease. “Are you still planning to arrive in two days?”
“We’ll be leaving the day after the goodbye feast,” Emily said. “You’ll have plenty of time to get there first.”
“Wonderful,” Caleb said, weakly. “Just don’t take anything my brother says seriously.”
Emily looked up at him. “That bad?”
“He thinks he’s the gift of the gods,” Caleb admitted, reluctantly. “To everyone. And he’s still an apprentice combat sorcerer.”
“Oh,” Emily said.
She smiled, despite herself. Jade had completed his apprenticeship in two years; Casper, who was probably around the same age, had yet to be released by his master. It suggested either incompetence or a reluctance to learn. But he couldn’t be completely incompetent or he would have killed himself by now, if his master hadn’t strangled him personally. A careless magician rarely lasted long.
“I won’t take him seriously,” she said. She smiled, again. “Why hasn’t he qualified?”
Caleb smirked. “I believe he keeps finding something else to do with his time,” he said, darkly. “His master has the patience of a saint.”
“I see,” Emily said. She gave him a reassuring look. “Are you nervous?”
“Just a little,” Caleb admitted.
“I’m nervous too,” Emily said. She squeezed his hand lightly. “But at least you survived meeting...meeting my father.”
“That’s true,” Caleb agreed. “My mother does want to see you. She didn’t like Master Grey very much.”
Emily sighed, inwardly. She’d have to find the time to go through Master Grey’s estate when she had a moment, perhaps after the wedding. God alone knew what he might have gathered, over the years, or what she might be able to use for herself. At least he didn’t have any direct heirs, as far as she could tell. She didn’t have to worry that she had deprived a son or daughter of their father’s possessions.
And given someone a very good reason to want revenge, she thought, darkly. The Code Duello forbade revenge attacks, but her reading had made it clear that it was sometimes honored in the breach, rather than the observance. I’ve got enough enemies without adding more.
“I’ll be glad to see her,” Emily lied. In truth, she wasn’t looking forward to it. “And I hope you’ll find time to show me around the city.”
“You wanted to visit your bank,” Caleb noted. “I think we can find time to wander.”
Emily smiled. It would be nice to see more of the Nameless World. Indeed, after the wedding, she was seriously considering setting off on a tour. Caleb and Frieda could come with her, if they wanted; they could explore parts of the world she’d never visited. Or she could go back to Mountaintop and read some of the books that were being held in storage for her. Or even just return to her house and relax until term started again.
They reached an overhang looking down over Whitehall and sat on the grass. Emily smiled to herself as she studied the school, her mind touching the magic fields flickering up and down from the nexus point below the building. The wards felt different, now that there was no Grandmaster; she hoped it wouldn’t be long before a newcomer was installed in the office, even though it would be odd to see someone else in the Grandmaster’s chair. Caleb wrapped his arms around her and she relaxed into his touch, although it was hard for her to relax too far. Part of her was still worried about letting anyone touch her.
“Two more years to go,” Caleb said. “And then...we will see.”
Emily nodded. “Do you still want to try for a mastery?”
“I think I need at least one, if I am to convince anyone to join me,” Caleb admitted. “But it will be hard to convince anyone to accept me as an apprentice if I don’t intend to stay in the field.”
“You do intend to stay in the field,” Emily pointed out. “You’re just planning to combine it with others.”
“That’s not the mark of a master,” Caleb countered. “It certainly doesn’t show the single-minded determination of an apprentice who wants to become a master.”
“Like Casper,” Emily said. She had no idea what a combat sorcerer needed to do to win his spurs, but if Jade had done it in two years...she wondered, idly, if Casper had deeper ambitions than he’d admitted to his family. Caleb might not be the only one considering new ways to develop magic. “Do you think he’ll make it harder for you to get a post?”
“I don’t know,” Caleb admitted. “No master wants to waste his time tutoring someone whose heart isn’t in it.”
“Ask Mistress Irene,” Emily suggested. “She’d probably know someone who might be interested.”
Caleb nodded and kissed the back of her neck, lightly. Emily stiffened; he pulled away, very gently. Emily cursed her own weaknesses as she rose to her feet, trying to silently convey the feeling that it wasn’t his fault. She didn’t want a string of boyfriends like Imaiqah - and she couldn’t imagine having a passionate relationship like Melissa and Markus - but she wanted to be comfortable. And yet, every time she thought about letting herself go, she ran up against insurmountable mental barriers. The mere thought was terrifying.
She helped him to his feet and kissed him, lightly, before turning to walk back down the path to the school. The sun was already dropping below the mountains, casting the surrounding terrain into darkness; they didn’t have long to return before Lights Out. She held his hand as they walked, wishing she could just confide in him. But would he understand if she told him everything? There was a part of her that knew she didn’t dare take the chance.
“I’ll see you at the dinner and dance tomorrow,” she said, as they reached the entrance and walked into the school. “You’ll be there, won’t you?”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” Caleb assured her. He let go of her hand as they stopped outside the female dorm. “And I’ll see you in Zangaria too.”
“Yeah,” Emily said, reluctantly. She’d intended to travel with Caleb and Lady Barb to Alexis. “There’s been a slight hitch. We need to take a detour first.”
Caleb put a gallant ex
pression on his face. “As long as I’m with you,” he said. “I don’t mind.”
Emily snorted. She gave him one last kiss, ignoring the sound of Madame Beauregard clearing her throat loudly, and walked through the door into the dorm.
Chapter Seven
“YOU LOOK LOVELY,” IMAIQAH SAID.
Emily had her doubts as she looked into the mirror. Imaiqah had insisted she spend an hour getting ready for the dinner and it looked as though the time had been well spent, but she didn’t want to do it every day. Her hair had been washed, her face had been scrubbed clean and she’d donned a blue dress that flattered her curves more than she cared to admit. Imaiqah had wrapped her hair into a long French braid, leaving it hanging down her back and told her to stay very still. It seemed she wasn’t even allowed to dress herself. But if it took so much effort to look lovely, she wasn’t sure she wanted to bother.
“I feel strange,” Emily muttered. Imaiqah was almost a force of nature when it came to getting dressed, even though four years ago she’d had to make her own dresses if she wanted to wear something other than robes. “And a little exposed.”
“All eyes will turn as you walk past,” Imaiqah assured her.
Emily bit down on the rejoinder that came to mind and watched as Imaiqah pulled her own dress on, then inspected herself in the mirror. She wasn’t quite sure who Imaiqah was taking to the dance, but she hoped he appreciated the amount of effort Imaiqah had spent on herself as well as Emily. Imaiqah’s face was tinted, her hair wrapped up in a style that looked oddly familiar and her dark dress showed off the tops of her breasts.
“You look fine,” Emily said, impatiently. “Shouldn’t we be going downstairs?”
“Not yet,” Imaiqah said. “You have to be strategically late when dealing with boys or they’ll start thinking they can get away with anything.”
Emily rolled her eyes, but waited until Imaiqah was ready before following her down the stairs to the outer hall. Lady Barb would have been furious if they’d been late for her classes - the tutors had been getting stricter about it ever since Fourth Year had started - yet it was almost worth it to see Caleb’s eyes open wide when he saw her. She fought down a flush that would have stood out on her pale skin, kissed his cheek delicately and allowed him to lead her into the Great Hall. A handful of tables, groaning under the weight of food and drink, had been placed against the far wall, while a number of couples were already gliding around the dance floor.
Wedding Hells (Schooled in Magic Book 8) Page 7
