“Please excuse my tardy arrival and accept my sincere apologies.” His eyes fastened on me, and he gave a proper bow. “And especially to you, Princess Verene. I had hoped to be here to greet you on your arrival.”
Darius gave him a look that was half disapproving, half long-suffering. “We expected you here hours ago, Jareth.” He turned to me. “Your Highness, please allow me to introduce my younger brother, Prince Jareth.”
I considered standing so I could curtsy properly, but that would only send everyone else at the table scrambling to their feet. Instead, I settled for inclining my upper body in his direction.
“You may consider your apologies accepted, Prince Jareth,” I said. “I was just saying to the duke how much I look forward to meeting my year mates, and here you are.”
The younger prince smiled and slipped into an empty seat beside his brother. A servant appeared and put a place setting down for him, a hot plate of food arriving a moment later. I eyed it curiously. Was the kitchen equipped with compositions to ensure guests at the duke’s table were always supplied with hot food, regardless of how late they arrived?
“I have been no less consumed with curiosity to meet you, I must confess, Princess Verene,” he said. “It has been many long years indeed since Kallorway hosted a foreign royal at our Academy.”
I smiled at him. “It is a great honor to be starting with both Kallorwegian princes. I value the opportunity to get to know both you and your kingdom better.”
I surreptitiously watched Darius out of the corner of my eye, wondering if my reference to all of us starting together would garner another reaction from him. But he had himself under better control now, or else I had misunderstood his reaction earlier. The Ardannian court might guess at the reasons why the crown prince of Kallorway was two years late starting at the Academy, but it looked like I wasn’t going to have those theories confirmed or denied by the prince himself.
I suppressed a sigh.
“I confess to great curiosity about Ardann,” Jareth said, starting enthusiastically on his food. “I hope you will share about some of the differences you see here.”
“Most gladly.” I started to feel a little more hopeful.
The reports that Jareth was more open than his brother appeared to be true. I had been sent to understand not only the future king but all those of his generation who would shape the Kallorwegian court of the future. Perhaps my opening would be through the younger prince.
The rest of us returned to our sweets, giving Jareth a chance to eat his meal. Raelynn began a conversation with the duke about the various classes that would be starting the next morning, and I knew I should take the opportunity to learn what I could. But I struggled to focus on their words, my attention instead taken by the two princes now sitting directly opposite me.
Darius leaned toward his brother, murmuring something in a voice too quiet for me to catch. Jareth looked at him, replying with what must have been a quip, a ready laugh in his eyes.
The crown prince shook his head, but a slow smile spread across his face, the first I had seen on him. He was intimidating when serious—even to me who had grown up among royalty—but he was striking when he smiled.
“You’re hopeless, Jareth,” he said softly, under the other conversations in the room. “I don’t know why I put up with you.”
“Because I’m a better-looking version of you?” Jareth suggested. “I remind you of what you might one day hope to become.”
I choked down a snort, and both princes looked in my direction. I quickly pretended intense interest in my plate. When I glanced back up at them, Jareth had returned to his meal, although a smile lingered on his face. Darius still watched me, however, his face shuttered, and his eyes once more dark.
The effect was even more intimidating after seeing him transformed with his brother, but I met his eyes, not backing down this time. I quirked an eyebrow upward, an unspoken challenge. Impossibly, his expression grew even more closed, and he returned his attention to his plate.
I sighed and glanced down the table at Layna who was deep in conversation with Captain Vincent, her brow furrowed but her pose open and engaged. At least one of us was making some progress.
When the meal at last concluded, a servant appeared to show me to my suite. Layna followed along, a single pace behind me, her presence reassuringly solid at my back.
“What did you think of Captain Vincent?” I asked, not turning to look at her. Layna had been my assigned shadow for long enough that we were used to these sorts of conversations.
“Not what I expected,” she said. “But I feel better about having to leave you now that I’ve met him. I thought he was a little young for such a senior post, but apparently he only took up the position at the beginning of the summer. He was appointed directly by the king, and I suspect he was sent here in anticipation of the princes’ arrival. The Academy is remote, and it would be easy to grow complacent at a post like this. And complacent guards are sloppy guards. But Captain Vincent is fresh from the capital and has spent the summer improving the state of the Academy Guard.” Her voice turned sour. “I don’t think I would have liked the old captain he replaced.”
“It makes sense King Cassius would take the safety of his sons seriously. Especially since they’re both here at the same time. Kallorway is less stable than Ardann, even after so many years.” I paused. “I just hope he feels the same dedication toward protecting me.”
Layna hesitated, and I felt guilty, knowing how much it pained her to leave me behind without her protection. When she did eventually speak, she sounded thoughtful.
“I sincerely hope his resolve on that matter will never be tested. But he sounded sincere when he spoke of his duty to his charges—all his charges. I believe he would consider it a dishonorable failure to allow harm to come to any member of the Academy—trainee or instructor.”
The servant in front of us had stopped at a plain wooden door, so I didn’t attempt to reply. The older woman dropped a simple curtsy.
“This is to be your suite, Your Highness,” she said. “All the royals have suites on this corridor, along with the senior staff. The other students are higher up on the first year level.”
I nodded and thanked her, although I was distracted by her words. When she said all the royals, did she just mean the two princes and me? What other royals were there?
She bobbed another curtsy and disappeared down the corridor. I watched her go, blinking in confusion. That was it? I needed more information on the Academy than that. I didn’t even know how to get to the dining hall in the morning.
But it was too late to go chasing after her demanding a more thorough introduction, and I was exhausted after our journey. Pushing open the door to my suite, I took a single step into my new room before halting, my hand still on the door, my body blocking the opening.
I hadn’t expected the Academy to provide as luxurious accommodations as a palace, but I had been expecting a suite assigned to royalty to contain basic, pleasant furnishings and some kind of simple decoration. What greeted me was utter mess and chaos.
Overturned furniture filled the floor space. Chair legs poked up in every direction, and my scattered belongings decorated the carpet. Something white and soft—at a glance it looked like feathers—had been thrown over everything, and words glimmered on the far wall in a sickening red.
I didn’t take the time to absorb their meaning, spinning around and shutting the door sharply behind me. I tried to slow my racing heart, not letting any of my emotions show on my face.
“You know, on second thought, maybe it would be best for us to say our farewells here and now,” I said to Layna. “The Academy officially begins in the morning for me, and you will no doubt be off early.”
Layna narrowed her eyes, looking from me to the closed door. After a loaded pause, however, she nodded and bowed.
“If that is your desire, Your Highness. It has been an honor to serve you, and I would gladly resume the role on your retu
rn to Ardann.”
I tried to pull my whirling thoughts into order, pushing away images of the room behind me so I could give her the farewell she deserved.
“You have shown yourself to be both loyal and skilled, Layna. I could not have asked for a better guard. I thank you, most sincerely, for your service.”
She bowed again, and when she straightened, she had something in her hand. She held it out to me, and I saw it was a stack of parchments.
“I hope it will not be impudent of me to offer you a parting gift, Princess. I thought these might come in useful…given the circumstances.”
I frowned, taking her offered gift slowly. My family had already ensured I was supplied with a collection of compositions designed for my protection and safety, created by some of the strongest mages in Ardann. What did my personal guard feel I still lacked?
I glanced down at the first line of the top parchment, and something in me lightened. I looked back up at her.
“A locking composition?”
She grinned. “Not exactly. This is actually a working of my own design. I have been perfecting it for some time. A locking composition is valuable, but to be sure it is effective, it needs to be created with great power. And it would need to be refreshed every time it was challenged. Otherwise it could be circumvented with brute force. This is something a little…neater. If I may say so myself.”
My brow crinkled, and I scanned the rest of the words.
“Oh. I see.” I looked up at her. “This working has all the subtlety of a senior mage, Layna.” And I didn’t just mean in the complexity of the composition itself. The idea behind it demonstrated a clever mind—the kind that was likely to succeed in the hierarchical world of the mages. Perhaps when I returned to Ardann I would find Layna had already been promoted to a more senior position.
She smiled, clearly pleased at my words. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to create or refresh any protections for your room yourself, so I wanted something that could last you the whole year. I’ve created a whole stack of them, so it should be more than enough. The beauty of this composition is that it doesn’t require a lot of power, so I was able to make a plentiful supply.”
“No, but it clearly requires control,” I said. “It is a most generous gift, and I thank you.”
The natural strength of a powerful mage was required not just to complete workings of significant power, but also to build greater complexity into their compositions. Mages didn’t study compositions until the Academy, so I didn’t understand the specifics of how it was done, but the stronger and more skilled a mage, the more complicated they could make their compositions and the fewer words they needed to use in doing so.
“I will admit there are a few other surprises built in that I didn’t write out,” Layna said, the pride in her voice making it clear she couldn’t resist the small boast. “But the main purpose is there for you to read. The composition won’t prevent access to your room, but it will alert you to an unauthorized entry and mark anyone who enters without your express permission. If you want someone to have ongoing access without your presence, you’ll need to place your hand on the protected door along with theirs and speak their name.”
I nodded. “Thank you. That inclusion will make it much easier to get my rooms cleaned.”
“The most important thing,” Layna said, “is that even the most inexperienced trainee here will be able to sense that your room is protected by a working. If they are a fool, they will blunder in anyway, and their identity will then be revealed. If they are not a fool, they will first use compositions of their own to attempt to decipher the nature of the power coating your door. I have specifically crafted this working to defy such attempts. Circumventing it would be far beyond the capacity of any trainee.”
“This is incredibly thoughtful of you,” I said, my voice soft. “I don’t quite know what to say.”
“Your thanks is already enough,” she said. “In truth I greatly enjoyed the challenge of creating such a working. And who knows when it will come in handy in the future? If it proves of value to you, I may perhaps put it forward to my own general for broader use within our discipline.”
“An excellent idea,” I said. “I’ll be sure to report back to you on the matter.” I liked to think that her efforts might prove of benefit to her and increase her standing within her discipline.
She bowed a final time. “I wish you all the best during your first year, Princess,” she said.
“And all the best to you,” I replied.
I watched her disappear down the hallway, off to join the rest of my guards, I assumed. When she reached the central stairway and disappeared from view, I let out a long sigh and turned back to the mess behind me.
Chapter 5
I let myself into the room and closed the door. Pausing to rip one of Layna’s compositions, I flicked my fingers toward the wood. Only when the comforting feeling of power enveloped the doorway did I turn to survey the room itself.
Now that I had time to focus, I read the words on the far wall.
Welcome to Kallorway, Princess.
The words themselves were inoffensive, but somehow they made the whole message more threatening. I forced my brain to consider the scene logically, however. My earlier assessment, made in a moment, had been right about the feathers. Soft, fluffy down covered everything. But my reaction to the red of the letters had been instinct rather than reasoning. They were written in bright red paint, not the dark reddish-brown of dried blood.
I rubbed at my temples and tried to decide what to do next. Telling Layna had been out of the question. She would be duty-bound to report the incident back to my family, and I didn’t know what trouble that might cause. I might feel alone here, but I remained determined not to fail at the task my aunt had entrusted to me.
Ever since my family got the first indication of my lack of power, they had ringed me around in a protective presence. I appreciated their love, but their concern only increased my feelings of uselessness. And now my aunt had found a way I could serve our family, the crown, and all of Ardann. A purpose that was open to me precisely because of my lack of power. I didn’t mean to throw the opportunity away before I had even begun.
And letting my parents know about the welcome I had received in Kallorway risked doing just that. Because my aunt might have sent me here for the good of Ardann—it was the only reason she did anything—but my parents had sent me here out of love for me.
In Ardann, among the mageborn, only failures, criminals, and traitors were sealed. With only a very few, unique exceptions, no sealed mages were accepted in society or among the court. By cooperating with the sealing ceremony, they won physical freedom, but that didn’t grant them a position among us. But in Kallorway it was different. In Kallorway, no one dared openly shun sealed mages—not when King Cassius himself was sealed.
That had been the price of peace with Ardann twenty-one years ago. Cassius had been permitted his throne only under condition that he seal himself. And in exchange for accepting his rule, the rebel leader who had overthrown him, General Haddon, had been given the right to choose which mages would be sealed alongside him. The fractured Kallorwegian court remained littered with sealed mages.
And so my parents hoped the children of those sealed mages might hold a different view of my powerless state from my peers in Ardann. I had suspected from the beginning that my being both royal and Ardannian would outweigh any such influence, and it appeared I was right. But I couldn’t let my parents find that out. Not yet, when I hadn’t had a chance to prove I could be of value after all.
Which meant I needed to deal with this problem myself, and I needed to do it quietly. Stooping to pick up a crumpled gown from the floor, I held it up and examined it critically. Feathers clung to its length, but as I picked them off, I noted no actual damage had been done to the garment.
And with every chair that I righted and dress that I gathered, I found the same thing. Even the tapestry on the left wall—which wou
ld not be nearly as easy to wash as the stones—had been left untouched. It appeared I wasn’t the only one interested in keeping this welcoming gesture from gaining too much attention.
I could not complain to the Academy Head that anything had been damaged, nor claim any reparation for lost possessions. It seemed my enemies were as cautious about this new situation as I was. Perhaps this was a test, meant to see how I would react.
I paused, a dress dangling from my hand as I considered this option. If it was a test, what message did I want to send?
Slowly I gathered the last of my belongings, picking the feathers off them and piling them on a soft sofa upholstered in pale green. Putting my hands on my hips, I looked at the room through critical eyes. I couldn’t guarantee the furniture was all back where it had started, but it was arranged sensibly enough. The receiving room held two pale green sofas, four chairs, two side tables, and a writing desk which I had placed against one wall near the curtained window. When clean and tidy, it would be a lovely room for entertaining guests—if I ever had any guests to invite.
Leaving my things in the haphazard pile, I explored the room through the door on the right wall. It opened into a spacious bedroom, the same pale green theme carrying through with hints of gold. A smaller bag sat intact on the four-poster bed. I didn’t need to examine its contents to know it held the few items I considered truly precious—most notable among them my small personal book collection. Even here among my unknown enemies, words were valued too highly to be cast carelessly about.
My visitors had kept their presence to my sitting room, it appeared, since nothing in my bedchamber looked out of order. A pile of parchment on a side table by the bed drew my eye, and I hurried over to examine it.
Relief filled me at the simple, familiar words. No doubt these basic compositions would be replenished, as they were in the palace at home. I tore one without hesitation, imagining I could hear the distant tinkling of a bell, although the servants’ quarters were no doubt too far away for that to be true.
Crown of Secrets (The Hidden Mage Book 1) Page 4
