I crossed back through to my sitting room to await the servant’s arrival, rehearsing my planned words in my mind. Soon enough a sturdy knock sounded at the door, and I opened it to find the same woman who had shown me here from the duke’s dining room.
She dropped into a curtsy.
“You wanted me, Your High…” Her eyes widened, her words trailing away as she took in the sight of the remaining mess. She gulped. “It didn’t look like this when I was in here earlier, Your Highness, I assure you!”
She turned nervous eyes on me, and I forced myself to laugh.
“I’m sure it did not! But as you can see some of my fellow trainees wished to leave me a welcome. It was most diverting of them, but I’m afraid they haven’t given much thought to the mess they’ve left behind.”
“N…no, Your Highness,” the woman stammered, her eyes lingering on the words inscribed on my wall. Her shock seemed genuine and reassured me that her earlier hasty exit hadn’t been on account of the surprise awaiting me.
It occurred to me suddenly that I might have made a mistake in allowing her access to a room where such visible writing was displayed. I examined her wrist but could see no sign of any markings there. I was about to hurry her back out the door when she moved her head to examine my piled belongings, her hair flicking backward to reveal part of her neck.
I paused, my eyes held involuntarily by the complicated markings that ringed her neck. I swallowed, telling myself it resembled a necklace more than a collar.
“You’re sealed, I presume?” I asked, my words coming out more tentatively than I had intended.
Her eyes flew back to me. “Yes, Your Highness. Else I wouldn’t have been given the task of caring for your room.” Her shoulders straightened, and her look grew proud. “Only the sealed may serve in the rooms of royalty. How else would we refresh your supply of bell compositions?”
“Of course. Then it shouldn’t be a problem for you to clean my wall. And I’m afraid my wardrobe has suffered badly from the journey. Everything will need to be cleaned and pressed.”
I kept my tone even, neither overly friendly nor harshly demanding. I didn’t want to earn a poor reputation among the servants, especially not with one specifically assigned to my care. But neither did I want word to pass around the Academy that the foreign princess was weak and disrespectful of her station. It was a balancing act I was well used to walking.
“Yes, of course, Your Highness. At once, Your Highness.” The woman dropped into yet another curtsy, and I had to refrain from rubbing my now-pounding head. I was finished with formalities for the day and more than ready for my bed.
“I intend to retire to my bedchamber,” I said. “You may feel free to come and go as you need. At least until that wall has been cleaned.” I let a note of humor enter my voice. “It seems your mages are more careless in Kallorway than they are back home.”
“I…I couldn’t say, Your Highness,” the woman said, clearly thrown off balance and uncertain what response was safest.
But my words hadn’t been for her. I had no doubt that every aspect of this interaction would get back to my unknown adversaries. My words were for them.
“I’ll be back with cleaning supplies,” the woman promised, backing out of the room.
“Wait,” I called after her, and she froze. “If you’re to be in charge of my room, then you’ll need permission to access it when I’m not here to let you in. What’s your name?”
“Ida,” she said warily.
I directed her to place her hand on my door and did the same myself, speaking her name clearly. The power surrounding the door rippled slightly.
“Now you can enter freely,” I told her. “But you’d better warn the rest of the servants not to try.”
She nodded, and this time I let her hurry away. Hopefully she would only help spread the word that my rooms were now protected.
Retrieving a crumpled nightgown, I retreated to my bedchamber. As I sank into the comfortable bed, my mind was left to dwell on one important fact.
Someone had written words on my wall.
It was highly unlikely that a servant would have dared such a stunt with my room. The most obvious culprit was another trainee—or perhaps a group of them. None of whom were sealed. Which meant it didn’t matter what medium was used. Writing always released power. My chilling welcome message had been a composition. And there had been no sign of the binding words usually used at the start of a composition to contain the power until all the necessary words were completed. Such an unbound, short composition was dangerous, requiring skill and strength. And this one had no obvious purpose for the power released.
So two burning questions remained. Could it have been done by a trainee—or was someone far more powerful letting me know I wasn’t welcome here? And how had the unknown writer directed the power the words unleashed?
I could come up with no satisfactory answers before my exhaustion overwhelmed me.
I woke the next morning with startling clarity. Leaping from my bed, I raced out to my sitting room, the bell that had woken me still tolling. Throwing open the green curtains, I let bright sunlight spill into the room.
No sign of the message remained, although one section of the wall gleamed compared to the surrounding areas. The feathers had likewise disappeared, along with most of my clothing. But a small selection of clean, neat garments had been draped over the back of one of the sofas.
I hurried into a practical gown, pulling my white robe over the top. It didn’t take me long to make myself presentable, my only hesitation coming when I looked at the golden circlet on the table beside my bed. In Ardann I wouldn’t have dreamed of wearing it at the Academy. I was supposed to be a trainee before I was a princess. But here?
I pictured Prince Darius from the night before. His sandy hair had been unadorned, and his white robe as plain as mine. So the same tradition must exist here, despite the increased formality of their Academy. I secured my dark hair in a loose plait, letting it hang down my back, and hurried out of my suite.
Duke Francis had said the trainees ate meals in a dining hall, and I wanted to make sure I was out of my room quickly enough to catch one of the other trainees heading for the meal. After my discovery the night before, I was determined not to be found wandering around lost on my first day.
I paused outside my room, glancing up and down the empty corridor. But I didn’t have long to wait, the sound of an opening door making me sigh with relief.
I had been prepared to greet one of the princes, but a young woman in a white robe emerged, catching me by surprise. I had a brief moment to examine her, the girl too busy closing her door to notice me.
She was tall, a contrast to my own diminutive height, and she carried it well, moving with an elegant, predatory grace. Her golden hair had been braided and wound into a practical bun on her head, and when she finally turned in my direction, I was confronted with sharp, green eyes.
Some would no doubt call her beautiful, although the overwhelming impression I received was one of practicality and determination. This girl didn’t look the type to let anything or anyone stand in her way.
She faltered for the briefest moment, her eyes taking me in as quickly as I had just assessed her. Her brows rose up the tiniest fraction before she gave me the most shallow of half-bows.
“Princess Verene, I presume. I heard you arrived yesterday afternoon. Welcome to Kallorway.”
I regarded her through narrowed eyes, her final words making me pause. But I gave myself an internal shake. It was a phrase I would no doubt hear again many times. My unknown harasser had chosen their wording well, and I did not intend to give them the satisfaction of throwing me off balance.
“Thank you.” I inclined my head in her direction. “But I’m afraid I don’t have the pleasure of knowing your name in return. I was told last night that this hall was reserved for royal suites, but I was unaware Kallorway had a princess.”
The faintest flush colored the girl’s c
heeks at my words, which had been delivered in my most innocent tone.
“I’m Dellion,” she said. “Niece of Queen Endellion and granddaughter of General Haddon.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dellion.”
So she belonged to the second power faction in Kallorway. General Haddon might have once led a rebellion, and half the kingdom might still look to him as their true leader, but officially he had always been nothing more than Head of the Royal Guard. His family’s only claim to royalty came from his having forced Cassius into a political marriage with his daughter immediately after the young king’s coronation.
It meant Dellion, only niece to the queen, had no true claim to royal status. Did her lack of a title embarrass or anger her? From her uncomfortable expression, she was aware it was a stretch for her to claim a suite on this hall. Although the sour note that lingered behind the discomfort on her face told me she thought she belonged here. Did she resent a true princess enrolling in her year? Enough to leave an unwelcome message in my room?
I straightened my spine. Regardless of whether or not she had been involved in the incident in my rooms, I didn’t intend to back down before her. Like it or not, she was no princess—a title claimed by birth or marriage—and certainly no duchess or general—a title won only by ascending to head of a discipline. She wouldn’t even officially earn the general honorific of Lady until she graduated from the Academy and became a full mage.
I gave her my best court smile even as I reminded myself not to underestimate Dellion. Her grandfather had been Head of the Kallorwegian Royal Guard for longer than I had been alive, with the seat on the Mage Council that position afforded him. And he had held that position for all those years in opposition to the king he was supposed to be dedicated to protecting. He had been the one to negotiate with Ardann for peace, a king-slayer who managed to hold his post despite perpetrating the greatest treason a royal guard could commit. Only the strongest and canniest of players could have held onto power as General Haddon had managed to do. How much it must gall King Cassius not to be able to trust the head of his own guard.
Dellion, clearly named for her royal aunt, was the oldest child of Queen Endellion’s younger sister. Was her placement on this hall a sign of the power wielded by the old general through his daughter, the queen? Or was the honor only because she happened to be attending the Academy at the same time as her two royal cousins?
Another door opened, breaking what seemed about to become an uncomfortable silence. But again, it wasn’t either of the princes who appeared. The young man who joined us in the hallway carried himself with an arrogant air, his face seeming set in lines of faint displeasure. He nodded curtly at Dellion and then regarded me with a long, calculating look.
After a noticeable pause he gave me a full bow.
“Your Highness. Such an honor.” His tone made a mockery of the words, although there was nothing overt for me to take exception to.
Once again I was reminded strongly of the message left in my room. But clearly there was no love lost between these two, and I couldn’t imagine them conspiring together to sneak into my room while I sat at the evening meal. They couldn’t both be responsible.
“And you are?” I asked, letting my voice remain cool and unimpressed. “I’m afraid I find myself woefully ill-informed. It seems the definition of royal is held much more loosely in Kallorway than it is in Ardann.”
The boy’s eyes narrowed, but he swallowed whatever retort he clearly wanted to make.
“I’m Royce. My father is cousin to the king.”
“Ah yes.” I let the faintest hint of amusement tinge my voice. “King Cassius’s cousin I have indeed heard of. We are year mates, then, I believe.”
Was Cassius’s cousin still his right-hand man, as he had been in their own days at the Academy? It might explain Royce’s insolent, arrogant air, a somewhat surprising attitude given both his parents were among those sealed.
Royce glared at me, apparently bereft of words, but Dellion spoke, making no effort to hide the amusement on her face at Royce’s discomfort.
“We are all year mates, along with Darius and Jareth. Is it not most delightfully arranged?”
I frowned slightly. Arranged? Was she merely referring to Darius’s delayed start and my attendance? Or had our year been manipulated in some other way? I had been briefed on the state of Kallorwegian politics before coming, but I hadn’t even made it to breakfast, and I was already aware of how many subtleties were missing from the reports of our diplomats and intelligencers.
“Enough of this,” Royce growled. “It’s too early in the morning for your jabbering, Dellion. Not without food inside me.”
Dellion raised a single, elegant eyebrow.
“I believe it would take a great deal more than a single meal to improve you, Royce. But then I’ve always thought so.”
He smirked at her. “At least I’m free to enjoy my meal. I hear you’ve been given babysitting duties.” He sent a significant look in my direction before stalking away down the corridor.
I turned silently to Dellion. Babysitting? I wasn’t going to dignify that comment by asking her about it aloud.
She glared at Royce’s disappearing back before turning reluctantly to me.
“Duke Francis has requested that I guide you around the Academy for your first day. We should head to the dining hall for breakfast.”
“Very well.” I kept my voice neutral.
My aunt had sent me here because she wanted more information on people like Dellion and Royce. The opinions of their generation hadn’t made it into the reports of our intelligencers, but in four years they would graduate alongside both of the Kallorwegian princes. My year mates were the future court of Kallorway, and I was here to find out where their loyalties lay.
So far, it appeared they followed the established lines of enmity set down by their parents, but it was much too early to draw any proper conclusions. For now, I needed to somehow maintain the dignity and authority of the kingdom I represented while also not accidentally alienating either side.
Dellion began walking down the hall, and I had to hurry to keep up with her long stride. When we reached the staircase, she descended, slowing enough for me to catch up.
Waving up the stairs, she said, “The other trainees are all housed up there. Each year has a level, plus there’s a level for the junior instructors.” It was clear from her dismissive tone that she anticipated no need to ever climb upward herself.
“The head’s rooms are on the opposite side of the stairs to us. Trainees are rarely invited into that wing.” She gave me a veiled look. “But perhaps it will be different for you.”
Yes, she was certainly resentful of my rank. I would have to step carefully with her.
We passed the level below our suites but didn’t stop.
“This level is the library and all the other instructors’ offices,” she said. “There’s nothing on the ground floor but the dining hall and the classrooms.”
“What of the kitchens and the servants’ quarters?” I asked, although I already suspected I knew the answer.
She gave me a slightly incredulous look. “They aren’t in the main building. They must be in one of the outbuildings, I suppose.” She had clearly never given the matter any thought.
I sighed internally. It was amazing how many people forgot my mother was a commonborn, the daughter of two shopkeepers. When she was my age, she had known nothing but a life of illiteracy. Even her dreams of the future had been marred by the specter of conscription. Others might have forgotten her roots given what she had become, but she had made sure her children did not.
While many of the older mages in Ardann still thought as Dellion did, I was used to associating with those closer in age to myself. We had grown up surrounded by sealed commonborns, with a commonborn princess at the center of our court. In Ardann, the lines were no longer so clear nor the hierarchy so rigid as it had once been. I only hoped Dellion wasn’t representative of e
very mage in Kallorway. Given how many mages had been sealed after the war, they must have plenty of sealed commonborns among them.
We reached the bottom of the stairs and the large entranceway. The hubbub of many voices could now be heard, and I no longer needed Dellion’s leading to find the double doors that opened into the huge dining hall.
Four long tables lined the room, and my eyes latched on to two sandy heads at the table furthest to the right. Royce was already seating himself beside the two princes, confirming my impression that the far table belonged to the first years.
My stomach, which had started to rumble on the way down the stairs, seized strangely at the sight of the tallest first year, his back ramrod straight and his eyes too dark to read. Why did Darius already look so familiar after only a single meal spent in his company?
He saw me but offered no sign of recognition or greeting, and I forced my eyes to move on, skimming the rest of the table. I didn’t absorb the faces seated there until my gaze latched on to one that was truly familiar.
I gasped. “Bryony?”
Chapter 6
“Verene!” The petite, wiry girl tumbled from her seat and threw her arms around me. “I would have come and found you last night, but they told me you’re not on the first year floor with the rest of us, and I haven’t properly found my way around the inside of this awful old place yet.”
She spoke with abandon, oblivious of any audience, almost vibrating with energy, just as she had always done. She had been raised far from any court, and I loved the lack of restraint it allowed her.
“Can’t you just imagine me stumbling into Duke Francis’s bedchamber? What a scandal.” When she grinned impishly up at me, I felt like crying at the unexpected sight of such a friendly face.
“You’re welcome to stumble into my bedchamber,” said a boy sitting at the table behind us with a wink.
“Ugh, don’t be disgusting, Wardell,” said a girl sitting across from him. “As if anyone would want to stumble in there.”
Crown of Secrets (The Hidden Mage Book 1) Page 5
