Arrigo shrugged and looked at the crowd gathered around them. “I don’t know. Seems you have a talent for collecting a mob.”
Jathan snorted and shook his head pityingly. “It’s not a mob, Arrigo. It’s a game. I’d explain it to you, but it involves brains rather than muscles, so I doubt you’d understand.”
Arrigo stepped still closer and lowered his voice. “Careful, Jathan. You wouldn’t want me to repeat that last statement to Father, would you?”
“Oh? And how are you going to explain what you’re doing here, when you’ve been expressly ordered not to interfere with my training?” Jathan hissed back.
They glared at each other for a moment.
Arrigo broke first. “We should continue this in private. If your classes are done for the day, you might as well come on home with us.”
Jathan shrugged. “Sorry, Arrigo, but I can’t. I’ve promised to see Ailsa home safely. I’ll see you there later.”
Arrigo’s eyebrows rose in curiosity. “Ailsa?”
Jathan turned to take Ailsa’s hand again and bowed with perfect courtly precision. “Imperial Prince Arrigo, I have the honor to present Princess Ailsa of Far Terra.” Jathan ignored the renewed murmurs of the crowd. Now why did that make Ailsa look like a frightened doe about to bolt back into the forest? It couldn’t possibly be the first time she’d been introduced as a princess. After all, she could claim that title by birth. Not just by adoption like him.
In fact, Ailsa had appeared terrified ever since Karensa had started the game. He’d just been too excited to finally have a team mate to recognize it. She’d wanted to stay in the back in Barth’s class, too. He didn’t understand what frightened her about that, but he could at least try to help her out. Probably best to take her home with a minimum of fuss, for a start.
Arrigo bowed over Ailsa’s hand, completely oblivious to the way she stiffened. “Princess Ailsa. My very great pleasure.” He glanced at Jathan as he stood back up and smiled. “Why don’t we all see you safe home, Princess?”
Ailsa swallowed and looked up at Jathan, her eyes pleading for help.
Jathan took Ailsa’s hand again, noticing that her palm was slightly damp. She really was scared for some reason. “No, Arrigo. I think you’ve made quite enough of a commotion for one day. I’ll take Ailsa home.”
Ailsa relaxed a little and gave him a half-smile. That must have been the right answer. Well, he could certainly understand why anybody would want to avoid more of Arrigo’s company. The rest . . . Jathan guessed he’d just have to figure out the rest later. Right now, the best thing was clearly to get Ailsa back to her grandmother.
Arrigo still missed the signs. “I insist.”
Jathan sighed and tried to give Ailsa’s hand a reassuring squeeze. There really wasn’t any way he could stop Arrigo at this point. Not short of a public brawl, anyway.
~
Ailsa escaped through the door to Grandmama’s little house. She hadn’t felt so uncomfortably the center of attention, being escorted home by six uniformed men, since that last ball back home in Far Terra. She wanted nothing more than to hide in her little bedroom for a while.
“Good, you’re home,” Grandmama said. “I thought we might go shopping this afternoon to fill in some of the gaps in your wardrobe.”
Ailsa stood with her back to the door. She shook her head mutely.
Grandmama stopped and looked at Ailsa’s tense posture and pale face. “What happened to scare you so? Did that scamp Jathan leave you to come home on your own? Did anyone try to harm you?”
“No,” Ailsa choked out. “Nothing like that.” She swallowed and marshaled her thoughts to explain what had happened.
Grandmama led her over to one of the overstuffed chairs and sat across from her. She smiled as Ailsa described the game. “Jathan’s mostly right. The teachers do know about it and generally don’t mind too much. It sounds like things may have gotten a little more out of hand than usual.” She chuckled. “Jathan can be . . . competitive. And he was undoubtedly excited to finally have a teammate with the same kind of magic.”
“Well, it seems like somebody doesn’t like it. Somebody important,” Ailsa said.
“Why? What happened?”
With a shudder for the close call with imperial power, Ailsa described the interruption by the palace guard and Jathan’s aggressive response to Imperial Prince Arrigo.
To her surprise, Grandmama laughed. “Those two have never stopped trying to outdo each other. I wonder if they ever will. At least Jathan gets on better with his older brothers.”
Ailsa stared at her grandmother, her mind racing to catch up. “Brothers?”
“Well, step-brothers, really. Jathan is the son of the current empress, the emperor’s second wife. He and Arrigo were both babies—and possibly too close in age—when their parents married. I swear those two started pushing each other as toddlers and they just don’t know how to stop. Anyway, the posturing between those two isn’t serious trouble—and it’s nothing to do with you.”
Ailsa blinked. “Then Jathan . . . is a prince?”
Grandmama shrugged. “The emperor adopted him. But I get the impression Jathan intends to forge his own path and make a name for himself as a green mage.” She patted Ailsa’s arm. “You may be able to help him with that. He does seem to be best motivated by competition.”
Ailsa swallowed. “I . . . don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t go to the dance, then. Or . . . at least not with Jathan.”
“Why not?” Grandmama asked. “I thought you liked Jathan—at least when he’s not being overly competitive. Surely not because of Arrigo?”
“I . . .” Ailsa looked away. “It just seems like it’d be awfully conspicuous.”
Grandmama reached over and gave Ailsa’s shoulder a little shake. “You’re not in Far Terra. You don’t have to make yourself invisible to appease King Ewart. You’re going to have to get over that if you’re ever going to be able to work as a green mage anyway. And, here, one of the safest places for you to be is next to Jathan, conspicuous or not.”
Ailsa glanced out the window. It was a lot to take in, but . . . maybe Grandmama was right. Anyway, she enjoyed Jathan’s company. “All right. I’ll try.”
Chapter 8: Dances
Ailsa paused as she came through the door after classes the next day. An unfamiliar older woman sat in the front room. “Hello?”
“Ah, there you are, Ailsa!” Grandmama called from deeper in the house. She came into the front room carrying the blue ball gown. “Is this all your mother sent with you for formal occasions?”
“Um. Pretty much. I think she wanted—”
“It’s perfectly clear what she wanted,” Grandmama interrupted, disapprovingly. “Never expect subtlety from a heat mage. It’s not in them.” She held the dress out to the other woman. “I don’t suppose it can even be dyed to an appropriate color, Chara?”
The other woman—Chara—fingered the fabric and held it up to the light. She shook her head. “No. If it fits her well, what I can do is use it as a pattern. Saves time on the fittings.”
“Do you like the style?” Grandmama asked.
Ailsa thought back to that one ball she’d worn this gown to. She didn’t want to attract that much attention. “It’s a little, ah, a little . . .” She gestured to her torso.
Chara smiled. “Yes. I can see that. Well, I can change the neckline to something a bit more . . . demure. Not too demure, though. You don’t want to be a wallflower.” She squinted at Ailsa. “Hmm. Perhaps a bit of lace. Yes. A little lace jacket would give you more options for future balls.” She nodded to herself. “You can leave that to me.”
“Thank you, Chara,” Grandmama said. “I knew we could rely on you.”
“Is this for the student ball?” Ailsa asked.
“Of course,” Grandmama answered. “Your mother was right about that much, at least. You need to socialize as well as study. The relationships you make here are also a part of your preparation to be a mage,
you know.”
Ailsa chewed her lip. She still thought going to the ball with Jathan would be fun—just as long as she could keep him from somehow dragging her out into the public view again. She just wasn’t sure how she was going to do that.
~
Another ball. Father seemed to be having far more of them than usual this season. Savyon stood, knees locked, behind his father’s throne, letting the music wash over him and thinking about Ailsa. What was she doing, now? From her second letter, he knew she must already have been through her testing, but her last letter had said nothing about what kind of magic she had. True, her letters were being read, but he couldn’t see why that would be information that was too private to write about. He was afraid she had turned out to be a water mage, something too important for her to give up.
“Savyon!” His father’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
Savyon bent forward, closer to his father. “Sorry, Father.”
Father tapped his fingers on the arm of his throne. “I was saying you should go dance. Mix with some of the young ladies, like your brother.”
There was little Savyon wanted to do less than go out onto the dance floor. He always felt so awkward—tall and gawky—except when he danced with Ailsa. She could make anyone feel that they danced well. “Cergio always has enjoyed these things more than I do.”
“That’s no excuse. How about Baron Jazep’s daughter? Good family, that.”
Savyon looked toward the baron his father had named. Father and daughter had the same prominent front teeth. The unfortunate girl had also inherited her mother’s protuberant eyes. “She looks like a frightened rabbit.”
“Well, what about Baron Raibeart’s daughter, then? She’s quite lovely.”
Savyon didn’t even have to look. “Gella has the brains of a rabbit.”
Father huffed. “There are dozens of girls of good family out there. Surely you can find one who doesn’t remind you of a rabbit. It’s about time you got serious about finding a bride. You won’t do that standing up here like a statue.”
Savyon’s mouth went dry. “I’m not even nineteen until next month. There’s plenty of time for that.”
“Now, while your little friend isn’t here to monopolize you, seems like a very good time to me. Now, go out there and dance!”
Savyon sighed and turned to go. He paused and licked his lips nervously. Father had been the one to bring up marriage and Savyon had to open the subject sometime. He’d promised Ailsa that he’d convince his father that their marriage would be a good thing. Maybe he’d underestimated the task, but that didn’t excuse him from trying. “You know, Father, in some ways, Ailsa would be the perfect royal bride. We’d reunite both lineages and put an end to any potential insurrection. Have you thought of that?”
The king’s face turned a dangerous shade of purple. He raised a shaking hand and pointed to the floor. “Dance.”
Well, that hadn’t gone well. He’d have to find the exactly right moment to bring it up again, but Savyon was determined to keep trying. He stepped off the dais and prepared himself to go dance with someone who wasn’t Ailsa. This wasn’t going to be any fun at all.
~
Ailsa met Jathan at the door, hoping that the threatening drizzle wouldn’t turn into rain until after they got to the ball.
His eyes twinkled, taking in her gown. “I see you found something to wear. And a very good job someone did, too. I’ll have to ask your grandmother for the seamstress’s name for my sister.”
Ailsa drew a deep breath. She could in this gown without worrying about it. Chara had somehow managed to give almost the same effect as the blue gown while still allowing Ailsa room to inhale freely. The neckline didn’t make her fingers twitch to constantly adjust it, either. Especially with the matching silk-trimmed lace bolero that fastened with a jeweled clasp at her throat. She even liked the soft, minty shade of green. It was much more becoming than the brighter grass green of her student robes. She twirled the skirt a little. “You like it?”
Jathan smiled as he placed her hand on his arm. “Very much. You’re lovely.” He winked at her. “I bet you’ll be even lovelier dancing. It’s what that dress was made for.”
Ailsa frowned slightly. The novelty had worn off and she was beginning to get tired of Jathan’s winking. She was never quite sure what to make of it, except that he was amused about something. He didn’t do it when he was being serious. But he could switch from serious to flippant faster than a stooping desert falcon. Sometimes, she just didn’t know what to make of Jathan.
He handed her up into the coach for the short drive over to the Institute. The coach was relatively plain on the outside, with just a very small imperial crest by the door handle. Inside, it was luxurious. This ride wouldn’t be much longer than the one from her home to the palace back in Far Terra. It felt a little strange to be going to a ball without Sav, especially now. It wasn’t really disloyal, though. After all, Jathan was just a friend and fellow student. Of course, she would have said almost the same about Sav not so long ago.
Ailsa settled herself on the upholstered leather seat and looked across at Jathan. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re a prince?”
Jathan shrugged. “Because it’s not who I am. Not really. Oh, the emperor adopted me when he married my mother, but my real father was a talented green mage. And so am I. Maybe a pretty powerful one. That’s what I want to be known for.” He grinned. “At the institute, I can be judged just for myself, not who my stepfather is. It’s the freest I’ve ever felt.”
Ailsa smiled back. If their teachers and fellow students could ignore the fact that Jathan was the adopted son of the emperor, they surely wouldn’t care one way or another who her father was. “I feel that way, too.”
“I knew we had more in common than just our magic.” Jathan helped her out of the carriage at the foot of the steps to the same building where her testing had been conducted.
As they came through the double doors, Ailsa stopped and stared around her. The building had been totally transformed for the ball. Multi-colored, sparkling balls of light floated in the heights like so many stars. In the center of the room, where the water mages had created a jet of water during her testing, there was a tinkling fountain now. Flowering vines formed an arch just inside the doorway. It must be the same one from her testing—or one of the pair was, because one side of the arch was covered in pink flowers and the other side had orange flowers, as Grandmama had said it should. There were wonders everywhere she looked.
“Let’s dance.” Jathan whirled her out onto the dance floor.
He was a very good dancer, making her feel as if she were floating. Ailsa smiled. Dancing with Jathan was almost effortless, nothing at all like the way she’d had to work to offset the stiffness that always afflicted Sav whenever he was surrounded by a crowd. A twinge of guilt assaulted her at that thought. She would have stumbled on the next step, but Jathan saved her and swept her back into the dance, erasing her thoughts of Sav for the moment. Ailsa let the music and the movement carry her, just enjoying the moment.
Jathan grinned. “I knew you’d be a good dancer. At least when your mind’s on what you’re doing.”
Ailsa smile wavered. “Sorry. I just had a stray thought about . . . home. Balls there were never like this.”
Jathan tilted his head back and laughed. This time it was Ailsa who compensated and saved him from a misstep. “If you think this little ball is so grand, you should see one of the great balls up at the Imperial Palace some time. Maybe I’ll just have to arrange that.”
The music faltered to a stop. All around them, dancers halted. Rustlings and murmurs started to grow.
“They’re here,” someone whispered nearby.
“The princes came,” someone else said into the growing silence.
Along with everyone else, Ailsa turned toward the door. Three young men stood framed by the arch of the flowering vines. One was Prince Arrigo and the others were clearly his brothers. All three we
re just a shade taller than Jathan, but stockier in build and darker, with non-descript brownish hair and eyes. Not a one of them had Jathan’s cheerful manner.
“Just like them to burst in and spoil everything,” Jathan muttered.
The three newcomers scanned the room and then made straight for Jathan and Ailsa. The one who appeared to be the oldest waved his hand and the music started up again. A few people even continued dancing. Most just stared.
“Well, well, so this is our fair cousin?” the oldest said.
Ailsa’s head was spinning faster than the dance music. At the moment, she couldn’t recall the names of the other imperial princes or which was which. “C-cousin?”
The oldest shrugged dismissively. “Well, not really, of course. The family connection is quite a lot further back than that.”
“But, traditionally, we’ve always treated visiting royalty from Far Terra as our cousins,” the next oldest continued.
“Of course,” Arrigo put in, “none of them have ever come as real students at the Institute of Magical Arts, before. And a green mage, at that.”
“Still, Father would have our ears if we didn’t bestir ourselves to make you feel at home,” the oldest said.
“I was doing just fine at that without your help,” Jathan put in sourly.
Arrigo sneered. “Relax, Jathan. One turn around the dance floor—each—and we’ll be on our way. We only want to welcome Princess Ailsa to Terranion.”
“I’m not a princess,” Ailsa protested out of habit.
The oldest prince raised his eyebrows. “Whatever they call you back in Far Terra. Here, you’re a princess.” He held out his hand. “May I?”
Ailsa looked to Jathan uncertainly.
He shrugged reluctantly. “Might as well. They won’t leave until you do.” He grinned mischievously. “By the way, that’s Crown Prince Artair.” He pointed at the next two in turn. “And that’s Prince Rishiart. You’ve already met Prince Arrigo.”
Prince Arrigo struck his forehead with his palm. “That’s going to earn us a month of remedial protocol lessons. Our apologies for not introducing ourselves earlier.” He gave Ailsa a slight bow.
Daughter of the Disgraced King Page 8
