He waited. Emily said nothing.
“I liked you from the moment we met,” he added. “I…”
Caleb broke off. “I was free to court you, I believed. No one would object to the courtship, nothing would be at stake. If we married, I would be your consort. I…”
Emily closed her eyes in pain. She’d been on the Nameless World for years and yet, sometimes, the differences in culture still caught her by surprise. Caleb hadn’t been interested in a pointless fling, any more than she was. Of course he’d considered all the implications of a successful courtship and marriage. He’d understood all the implications she’d chosen to ignore…
There’s a difference between courting a nobleman and the heir to a throne, Emily thought, recalling Alassa’s patient lectures. Whoever you marry will shape your life.
She opened her eyes, looking up at him. “But things are different now.” She felt her patience snap. “You’re the Heir to your family – and, prospectively, the Heir to House Waterfall. Right?”
“I don’t think I’ll be the Waterfall,” Caleb said. “We’re probably not close enough to the main line to be considered…”
And you would have had a shot at the family title if you’d married me, Emily thought. She knew Caleb probably considered it a relief. Could a candidate refuse the post if they were elected? She didn’t know. Now…they may blame you for losing me.
“Things are different now,” Emily repeated. “The implications of our relationship are different too.”
She met his eyes. “And you didn’t trust me, when the crunch came,” she added. That hurt more than anything else. “You thought…”
Caleb looked back at her, evenly. “Mother drilled my failings into me. She…she told me that the entire city was at stake.”
“It was,” Emily confirmed.
“I couldn’t let her die,” Caleb said. “I…”
“And so you let her be drained further,” Emily snapped, irritated. “She nearly died because you didn’t trust me!”
Caleb turned away, angrily. “I should have trusted you. But I didn’t.”
Emily felt magic tingling at her fingertips, demanding release. She fought it down, despite her frustration. They were dancing around a simple point, as if neither was willing to say what had to be said. And all the apologies in the world wouldn’t make it better – or easier. They…their relationship had died in the Temple of Justice.
Lady Barb would be direct, Emily thought. And I have to be direct, too.
She cleared her throat. Caleb turned back to her.
“When we started this courtship,” she said, “we agreed that we – that either of us – could call it off at any moment. And now…”
Caleb looked pale, but unsurprised. “You want to call it off.”
“So do you,” Emily snapped. She wondered, suddenly, just what Sienna had said to her middle son. “In the temple…you didn’t trust me.”
She felt another pang of grief, mixed with anger. She’d trusted him. She’d trusted him enough to let him kiss her, to touch her, to go inside her…it hadn’t been easy to make that decision, to let him have her…
…And yet, she’d kept secrets from him, too.
Men desire physical intimacy to prove there will be physical intimacy, Lady Barb had said, during one of her brutally frank lectures. Women desire emotional intimacy to prove there will be emotional intimacy. And neither gender really understands what the other wants.
Caleb looked oddly relieved. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought…”
“Courtships fail,” Emily said, sharply. Lady Barb had had a failed courtship, although Emily didn’t know the details. “It happens.”
She controlled her anger with an effort. “Inform your mother that we are no longer courting,” she said, stiffly. No doubt Sienna would start looking at eligible young women for her oldest surviving son. She told herself, firmly, that she wasn’t going to be jealous when Caleb finally found a wife. “And that we are still friends.”
Caleb blinked. “Friends?”
Emily hid her amusement. She didn’t want him to think she was laughing at him. “We have a project to finish,” she reminded him. “And a university to build.”
He gaped at her. “You still want me to help?”
“We can’t get out of doing the project,” Emily pointed out. They’d both be in trouble if they failed to scrape a passing grade. “I’m not explaining to Lady Barb why I had to repeat Fifth and Sixth Year.”
“I suppose it would be an awkward explanation,” Caleb said. “Mother would not be pleased, either.”
Emily smiled, despite herself. “No, she wouldn’t,” she agreed. It would have been nice to have a parent who cared about her grades, but she could see the downside. “She’d be much more likely to lock you in your room and force you to study.”
“She would.” Caleb looked pensive. “She was always furious when we came home with poor grades or bad reports. Casper couldn’t sit down for a week after his teacher tattled on him for some silly prank.”
“Ouch,” Emily said. She believed him. “And afterwards, we do have to open a university.”
She smiled. Caleb wouldn’t be happy running his family, but he’d have time to work on Heart’s Eye before his parents died. Hell, perhaps Sienna would be interested in helping with the university. She knew a lot of magicians who might be willing to share what they knew…
“If we can,” Caleb said.
Emily held out a hand. “Friends?”
Caleb took her hand and shook it, gravely. “Friends.”
It wasn’t going to be easy, Emily knew, as they resumed their walk towards the northern bridge. They’d been lovers, with all that implied…their relationship would never be simple, no matter what they did. Part of her still wanted to kiss him, even though she knew she could never go back. The girl who’d courted Caleb had died in the Temple of Justice, too.
“I heard that Annabel Vesperian and her son were sighted in Zangaria,” Caleb said. “Do you think King Randor intends to use them?”
Emily shrugged. Vesperian had owned property in Zangaria. No doubt Markus and the rest of the bankers would lay claim to it eventually, once they collected the notes and sorted out what they were owed. Vesperian’s heirs would be wise to run further, if King Randor wasn’t keeping them in custody. They’d have enemies in Beneficence until the day they died.
“I imagine they’re of little use,” she said. She knew next to nothing about Vesperian’s wife and son, but she was fairly sure they wouldn’t be much use to Randor. Unless he held them until they could be traded back to the city for concessions…perhaps he’d send them back anyway, as a gesture of good will. It would get some use out of the hapless pair. “I don’t know what he’ll do with them, if he has them.”
They stopped, for a moment, at the foot of Temple Row. A small army of priests, and builders were already at work, trying to rebuild the destroyed temples. The original statues seemed beyond repair, but a number of smaller statues of household gods had been put up in their place. Emily wondered, as she watched a team of builders carrying a golden relic out of one of the temples, what the destruction would mean for the city’s religions. Who knew what they would come to believe?
“They’re not planning to rebuild the Temple of Justice,” Caleb commented. “Mother was saying that most of the worshippers are dead or gone.”
Emily winced. “That will go down well.”
“Probably,” Caleb agreed, equally sardonically. “But then, there is a gash in the floor that leads down to the sewers, so workmen have to be paid danger money to work there.”
“And wind up swimming in sludge if they’re not careful,” Emily said. They started to walk on. “Has…has your mother started talking about other girls for you?”
Caleb shook his head. “By tradition, there’s supposed to be a three-month gap between the end of one courtship and the start of another. We were careful, but still…”
Emily nodded, cu
rtly. They’d taken precautions against pregnancy, precautions that were supposed to be infallible, but tradition had its uses. Three months was more than long enough for them to come to terms with the end of their relationship. Maybe she wouldn’t be upset when she saw Caleb with another girl…
Her heart clenched. She knew it wouldn’t be easy.
But you’ll have to get used to it, she told herself, firmly. Cursing his future bride is not acceptable behavior.
Caleb gave her an odd look. “And you?”
Emily shook her head. She didn’t have anyone who would try to arrange a marriage for her, no close family who’d start the negotiating process without even bothering to check with her first. Void was the closest thing she had to a father, and he’d made it clear that he wouldn’t arrange anything for her without her permission. He’d also told her that he’d received a number of requests for her hand, but he hadn’t bothered to reply. Emily couldn’t help feeling grateful. The idea that complete strangers, some of them easily old enough to be her father or grandfather, would want to marry her…
Her lips twisted in disgust, then annoyance. She wouldn’t date again for a while, perhaps not until after she’d left Whitehall. And who knew what would happen then?
“I’m sure mother would be willing to help,” Caleb said. “She knows people…”
Emily elbowed him. Sienna probably did know people, but Emily had no intention of asking Sienna to help her find a partner. Besides, it would probably lead to a set of etiquette landmines she didn’t want to detonate. Better to see what happened at Whitehall and afterwards, she told herself firmly. It wasn’t as if she found anyone else particularly attractive.
And you have plenty of money, despite it all, she thought, wryly. That’ll make you very attractive indeed.
She smiled as the northern bridge came into view. A stream of people flowed in and out of the city; merchants from Cockatrice and Swanhaven rubbing shoulders with magicians and emissaries from across the Allied Lands. Frieda stood at the south end, next to a tall blonde woman. Emily felt her heart skip a beat as she recognized Lady Barb. The older woman hadn’t said she’d come…
My chat parchments were destroyed, Emily thought, as she hurried forward. She couldn’t tell me she was coming.
“Emily,” Frieda said. She shot Caleb a nasty look. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” Emily glanced at the guards in the gatehouse, wondering if they had orders to make sure she crossed the bridge. She didn’t envy them if they did. “I’m fine.”
“Good,” Frieda said, crossly. Her black eye hadn’t quite healed, giving her a menacing appearance. “Because if you weren’t…”
Emily gave Lady Barb a hug, then turned back to Caleb. “I’ll see you back at Whitehall,” she said. “And tell your family…”
She broke off. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to tell them.
“Thank them for their hospitality,” she said, finally. Sienna and her family had hosted her, after all. “And for everything else.”
“Of course,” Caleb said, seriously. He looked as though he wanted to hug her too, but didn’t quite dare. Emily didn’t blame him. The situation was already awkward enough. “I’ll see you at Whitehall.”
He turned and walked off, not looking back.
Chapter Forty
UNDER OTHER CIRCUMSTANCES, EMILY WOULD HAVE enjoyed her walk across the bridge. The stone structure spanned the Tribune River, a churning torrent that roared down the gorge and poured into the sea. Water crashed over jagged rocks that stabbed skywards, daring anyone to clamber down to the river and then climb up to the city. She’d heard that some people did try to ride the rapids in kayaks, but most of them died in the attempt. Only a handful of experienced canoeists made it to the sea.
But now, she just felt cold.
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” Lady Barb said, briskly.
She walked beside Emily, her long, blonde hair glinting in the sun. Frieda ran ahead of them, looking – for a moment – like the child she should have been. But she’d never had a chance at a real childhood, much like Emily herself. Emily wanted to reach out and hug her, hug both of them. And yet, she knew it wouldn’t help.
“Me too.” She looked up at Lady Barb. “Did you know…?”
“That it would fail?” Lady Barb shrugged. “You never really know how strong a relationship is until it runs into rocky waters. Either the happy couple manages to overcome their difficulties – and the relationship survives – or they are torn apart. In your case…I hoped you’d overcome your problems.”
Emily nodded, looking down at the river. “I wish…”
“Don’t wish,” Lady Barb said, firmly. “What happened, happened. Concentrate on the future.”
Emily sighed. “What happened to you? I mean…to your courtship?”
“There was a young man – still a boy, really – who wanted to court me,” Lady Barb said. “I was older than you at the time, twenty-two…just young enough to be flattered, but old enough to be careful. It turned out that we had very different ideas of our role in a relationship and we parted on bad terms.”
“Caleb and I are still friends,” Emily said, although she wasn’t sure if that was true. “What happened to him?”
“He married, had kids…he’s still alive, as far as I know,” Lady Barb said. “I haven’t bothered to keep tabs on him.”
She gave Emily a sidelong look. “Be careful,” she said, seriously. “Caleb was your first, wasn’t he? You’ll always be entangled with him, as much as you might wish to deny it. He may feel the same way too. Being friends again might not be an option.”
“It has to be an option,” Emily said.
“You were sleeping with him,” Lady Barb said. “There is no way you can avoid an emotional tie.”
Emily touched her heart. It ached. “Why…why is it so difficult?”
“Because men are men and women are women and immature members of both genders have problems relating to the other.” Lady Barb’s lips quirked up. “Women are nervous, and understandably so, of having something put inside them; men, too, are nervous about putting something in something. The risk of being violated is matched by the risk of losing something very important to you.”
“Oh.” Emily knew she was blushing. Her cheeks felt warm. “I never thought about it like that.”
“Few people your age do,” Lady Barb told her. “And five years from now, you’ll look back on your youth and wonder just what you were thinking.”
Emily rubbed her cheek. “How much did Frieda tell you?”
“She didn’t say much,” Lady Barb said. “Sienna’s letter was a little more detailed.”
“Yeah,” Emily said. She hadn’t expected Sienna to contact Lady Barb, but in hindsight she should have. Lady Barb had accompanied her when she’d first visited Beneficence. She and Void were the closest thing Emily had to parents. “What did she tell you?”
“Just that you and Caleb had broken up,” Lady Barb said. “And that you’d fought a god.”
“It was a Mimic,” Emily told her. Lady Barb’s eyes went wide. “Or something related to one, anyway.”
She sighed, wishing – again – that some of the scrolls had survived. If Master Wolfe had written them…she wondered, grimly, how long he’d lived. Theoretically, a Mimic could survive indefinitely with enough power. But if he’d been eating other humans and consuming their souls, he might have started to lose his identity. Or gone mad. Or…
I fought a Mimic at Whitehall, she thought. Did I kill all that remained of him then?
She shook her head. She’d never know.
“We’ll discuss it later,” Lady Barb said.
Emily nodded in agreement as they reached the end of the bridge. There were no guards on this side, merely a customs post. The officers took one look at them and waved them on, without even bothering to ask for papers. But then, they’d be used to magicians crossing the bridge and walking to the nearby portal. They’d probably be more conce
rned about someone who intended to stay in Zangaria.
And they presumably don’t know who I am, Emily thought, as they walked down the cobbled road. King Randor ordered me never to return without permission.
She sucked in her breath as she saw a plume of steam in the distance. There was a station on the north side of the city, if she recalled correctly. A steam train could still run from Cockatrice to the station, even if the bridge hadn’t yet been cleared. Or maybe the driver hoped to cross the line and get into the city, where the train could be unloaded easily.
“I’ll be taking you back to Whitehall this evening,” Lady Barb said. “But first…there’s someone who wants a word with you.”
She nodded towards a man, standing by a tree. Emily felt her heart start to race as she recognized Void. He’d been with Lady Barb, the last time she’d seen him; she’d thought they were both heading into the Blighted Lands. Had he come back to see her too?
“Frieda and I will wait here,” Lady Barb said, firmly. “Come back here when you’re done.”
Emily nodded and walked towards Void. It was hard, so hard, to resist the temptation to run. The Lone Power looked to have aged in the last couple of weeks, although she knew that was probably an illusion. His long, dark hair spilled out over a face too patrician to be called feminine, even though she knew some male magicians disdained long hair. But then, Void was too old and too powerful to care what his peers thought of him. Indeed, he had very few peers.
“Emily.” Void’s voice was calm, composed. “What happened between Caleb and yourself?”
“It’s a long story,” Emily said. She didn’t really want to discuss it with anyone. “Do you really want to know?”
“Yes,” Void said. “Please, talk.”
Emily sighed and started to explain. Void listened, sometimes asking a thoughtful question, as the whole story spilled out. He didn’t seem surprised, she noted; he seemed more concerned about her than anything else. She clung to that feeling, even though she knew it could be deceptive. The thought that someone cared about her was important. She needed it more than she cared to admit.
Fists of Justice (Schooled in Magic Book 12) Page 38
