I stood tall, holding my mouth tightly closed, determined not to say another word unless asked a direct question.
“But I am naturally fascinated by such a new ability,” the general continued. “Perhaps you could humor me with a small demonstration.”
“W…What?” I stammered, instantly forgetting my resolution. “A demonstration? Here?”
He smiled broadly. “Why ever not? I am a busy man, you know, and here we find ourselves in the same place, at the same time. We must seize such moments as they are afforded to us.”
I looked around wildly, but no help was forthcoming. I swallowed.
“Nothing destructive, of course,” said Thaddeus, sharply, his cold eyes boring into me. “A small working should be sufficient. Something decorative, perhaps.”
Still I hesitated, not having imagined such a scenario and unwilling to admit to the truth. Would I be instantly expelled from the Academy as a fraud? Did these two generals have that power? And what would happen to me—a commonborn able to read—if I was?
I glanced around hoping to spot Lorcan, but he was nowhere in sight. Instead my eyes fell on Lucas, his eyes somehow glued on us despite half a ballroom between us. Perhaps I had been wrong about who had sent General Griffith. Perhaps it had not been his children but Lucas, wanting to show me exactly why I shouldn’t have come tonight, why I should have continued hiding away as he clearly wanted me to do, despite some protocol which must have dictated that I be given an invitation.
“Come, come,” said the general, his voice sounding deceptively soft. Calix had mentioned lions, and his father reminded me all too forcibly of one preparing to pounce. “You’ve been studying at the Academy for a season and a half. Surely you can compose one small working without risking bringing the palace down around us?”
I licked my lips.
“Actually, I can’t.”
The general pulled back. “You can’t?” Nothing about the surprise on his face looked genuine. “Tut-tut, I’ll have to have a word with Lorcan. It seems he’s slipping.”
“Or so she says,” muttered Thaddeus. “She had no problem bringing half the Academy down.”
Hardly half. But I managed to swallow the words before they could emerge.
“Generals, a good evening to you both,” said a cool voice.
Turning, I almost tripped in my stumbling efforts to curtsy to the newcomer. The queen—because it had to be Queen Verena—gave the smallest of nods in my direction. Rubies winked at her throat and from her crown, and although she was no taller than me, her golden dress took up three times as much space as mine. I took another step back.
A tall, elegant girl, several years my senior, stood at her shoulder. The tiara in her hair was more elaborate than the circlet Lucas wore, and there could be no mistaking her identity, either. I curtsied again, slightly more elegantly this time, to Lucas’s older sister—Crown Princess Lucienne.
Both women had the same dark, almost black, hair as Lucas, but their matching eyes were brown flecked with gold. I looked around a little wildly, wondering if King Stellan was also about to descend on us. But when I spotted a towering golden crown, the man wearing it was some distance away, deep in conversation with Lorcan and Jessamine.
I drew a breath of relief, even as I wondered uneasily if they could be discussing me. But I tried to shake the thought away. One glance at this ballroom should be enough to remind me that nothing in this world revolved around me.
The king had sandy hair and his son’s green eyes, although apparently both of his children had inherited his height. Unwillingly, my traitorous eyes flicked across to Lucas, noting the resemblance he had to both his parents. He still watched me.
I get it! I wanted to scream across the ballroom at him. I get that I don’t belong. Not here, and not at the Academy. You needn’t send anyone else to convince me.
The queen’s voice dragged my gaze away from her son. “Is there to be a demonstration?”
“It seems not, Your Majesty.” General Griffith bowed slightly. “Lorcan has been keeping her locked away for nothing, it would seem.”
“Interesting.” The queen’s eyes transferred across to me, and I thrust my trembling hands out of sight among my skirts. She might not have the height of the rest of her family, but the queen carried herself with the same authority.
I tried to tell myself I only imagined the hardness in her face—a trick of perception perhaps, given her family resemblance to Thaddeus—but I couldn’t be sure. The princess, at least, looked more open, regarding me with curiosity.
“You really cannot oblige us, girl? Not even for your queen?”
I curtsied again. “I assure you, I would if I could, Your Highness, Your Majesty.”
“What a pity.” The queen gave a soft sigh, managing to make even that sound elegant. “It is almost enough to make one wonder…” She turned abruptly to face the two generals. “A word, gentlemen?”
They both bowed to her, and the four of them moved away, the crowd parting before them as they approached the king and the other two heads. Only Thaddeus glanced back at me as they left, his eyes holding a warning.
I swallowed and looked around. Many more curious eyes now watched me, but no one else approached. I glanced back at the refreshment table but could no longer imagine keeping anything in my roiling stomach.
Darting along the edge of the room, I pushed my way through a partially dangling red curtain and out onto a wide, empty balcony. I breathed in the cold night air, leaning against the railing, and raising my face toward the stars.
Closing my eyes, I concentrated on my breaths.
I had tried and tried. I could not access my power. Perhaps Lorcan would let me return home.
But I didn’t have to look around and remind myself where I stood—and among what company—to know that was an impossible dream. For all my efforts, I didn’t belong here. But having now been at least partially admitted to this world neither could I return to my old life. They would never permit such a thing. And I had to admit I struggled to imagine it myself. My world had expanded too much to be constricted back into Kingslee again.
Slowly, slowly, my heartbeat returned to its normal pace, and my breathing evened. If I had allowed myself to become comfortable in my life at the Academy, it had always been an illusion. Nothing had really changed. My situation was no more uncertain now than it had been when I first arrived. And I had survived this long.
A soft sound made me startle, my eyes flying open. I wasn’t alone out here after all.
Chapter 16
Lucas leaned sideways against the railing, facing toward me, his eyes on my face. How long had he been watching me?
I jerked back, only my hands remaining on the stone balustrade, my grip tightening convulsively.
“Come to tell me to leave?” I gestured around the deserted balcony. “I already got the message.”
Lucas sighed. “Are you always so belligerent? Or is it just to me?”
“Are you always so rude? Or is it just to me?”
His eyes dropped from mine, and he ran a hand over his face.
“I shouldn’t have come out here,” he muttered.
“No, probably not.” I forced myself to lean forward against the railing again and look out toward the stars. “Someone might see us and think you’re fraternizing with me by choice.”
He actually chuckled at that. “And I suppose they’d be right. At least, I don’t think anyone forced me out here.”
I spun to face him. “So why are you here then?”
For all my efforts, my nerves still thrummed from the confrontations inside, and I didn’t have the energy to deal with another one. If only he would walk back inside and leave me alone.
But the intensity in his eyes captured me, the lines of his body looking suddenly tight and on edge, despite his relaxed pose.
“I don’t exactly know.” He paused. “I guess I wanted to know why you’re here.”
“Well, at the beginning of the evenin
g, I would have said because you invited me. But now I know better.”
I wanted to storm away from the balcony, but even with Lucas here, this haven seemed safer than the crowd that waited inside. And a small part of me wanted to hear his answer. To know what excuse—if any—he intended to give for his rudeness.
“No, I wouldn’t have been so foolish.” He finally broke my gaze and glanced out into the night. “I wish I knew who got in my mother’s ear about it.”
I bit my lip and examined his face while he looked carefully away. So it had been Queen Verena who invited me. Why? As a matter of protocol because I was officially part of Lucas’s year level? Or had she been planning to request a demonstration all along? A demonstration I had failed to produce. But why not just visit the Academy herself in that case?
“Well, I’m sorry to have ruined your precious birthday celebration with my lowborn self and my inadequate gown.”
His eyes flew back to mine before dropping down to take in my outfit. A faint tinge colored his cheeks, and he looked away again.
“I meant what I said earlier, Elena. You look lovely. You certainly don’t embarrass me, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
I rolled my eyes, trying to hide the fact that I was the embarrassed one. I knew I didn’t measure up to him. Not tonight when he was every inch the prince.
“Your sincerity was oh so clear, Your Highness.”
“Welcome to the world of court, Elena. Insincerity is a game we play, and there are plenty of eyes watching us play it tonight.” He looked at me steadily. “But what makes you think my insincerity was directed toward you?”
This time I looked away, unable to hold his gaze. What game was he playing now?
“Look there’s really no need for you to be out here,” I said. “I got your message loud and clear.”
He frowned. “What message?”
“The generals. Your mother. I get it. I don’t belong here. I can’t compose, I have no control. I’m not one of you. You can be sure I won’t be coming back to court.”
He was still frowning, but at my last sentence, his face lightened. “Is that a promise?”
My hands tightened on the balustrade again, and I swallowed my instinctive response. He might make me want to retract my words in a fit of anger, but in this one instance I would hold my tongue—because I had no intention of returning here ever.
“It would certainly make things a lot easier for me,” he said quietly when I made no response. “I don’t suppose while you’re in an agreeable mood, you could promise to limit yourself to the Academy entirely?”
I glared at him. “Are you trying to make me into a voluntary prisoner, Lucas? Because I can’t say I’m inclined to play along.”
“No.” He made a quiet sound of frustration. “I’m trying to keep you…”
I waited, but he didn’t go on.
“Keep me what? Under control? Out of sight? Locked away? What is it you’re trying to do, Lucas?”
He closed his eyes. “I’m just trying to keep everyone safe. I don’t know why you’re so determined to thwart me.”
I sucked in a breath. “Once. I only lost control once. And I’ve never picked up a pen again. I would never—”
He shook his head. “I didn’t mean…”
Once again I waited, and once again he didn’t go on.
“Look, if you can convince Lorcan to let me go, I’ll return home in a heartbeat. Out of your way forever.”
“What?” He started, and now it was his hands gripping tightly to the stone in front of us.
I watched the muscles in his arms bunch, his knuckles turning white, and tried to pretend that his presence here in the half-darkness had no effect on me. Whatever enchantment he had cast over me from the first moment I saw him still held me, despite his manner since then. I wished I could take the decorative sword from his waist and cut myself free of him.
“That is not…That would be disastrous.” He stumbled over his words. “Elena, that is a terrible idea.”
“Yes, somehow I thought you’d all feel that way.” I sighed. “No one wants me here, and yet I can’t leave either. It’s a dilemma, wouldn’t you say?”
He said nothing, and I mumbled to myself, “It’s only for another year.”
“A year?” He looked at me sharply. “What do you mean?”
I just shrugged. I felt no responsibility to explain to him the necessities of conscription. The fact that he didn’t understand them was just another sign of the vast and uncrossable gulf between us. Between all of us common folk and mages.
“Elena.” He pushed off the rail and stepped forward, gripping my shoulders. “You cannot leave the Academy.”
His fingers burned through the thin material of my gown, his eyes just as fiery hot.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said. “For now.”
He groaned. “Elena! Why can’t you ever do what’s best for yourself? Why can’t you bite your tongue from time to time?”
Somehow a chuckle rose up inside me. “Now you sound like my mother.”
He groaned again and stepped back. “Excellent.” But as he watched me, a slight smile stole across his face. “I can only imagine what a trial you were to her.”
I rolled my eyes and turned back to the stars. “It seems I was born to be a trial to everyone.”
“No, apparently you were born to be something entirely unique.”
I glanced sideways to find him watching me with a calculating, considering look.
“Go back inside, Lucas,” I said softly. “Before someone notices you’re gone and comes looking for you.”
A shadow sped across his face, and then his court mask fell back into place. He gave me a half-bow.
“Very well. If you wish it.”
He crossed over to the door but paused just off the balcony to look back at me, the curtain still in his hand.
“Elena—”
Whatever he had been about to say was drowned out by a loud rumble and a sharp crack. I got a glimpse of his startled face as a familiar sensation washed over me. And then the balcony bucked, the stone beneath my feet rippling, and the entire thing collapsed. I fell amid the chunks of marble.
Chapter 17
As I fell, my thoughts flew uselessly to a shielding composition we had been studying in class for the last week. I knew each of my year mates now carried a rolled parchment somewhere on their person, ready for such an emergency. Only I remained weak and helpless.
I slammed against a block as I fell, and words ripped desperately from my throat.
“Shield me!”
Power rushed around me and everything slowed. The cold night air disappeared, and I floated toward the ground, cocooned in warmth. A couple of marble chunks bounced away from me, and then the crashing sound finished. With the last of the balcony already resting on the ground, I landed gently on the top of the pile.
My feet faltered and slipped, my knees unable to brace me, and I fell hard onto all fours. Instead of jagged stone, I fell against a soft warmth. But as I knelt there, panting, it faded away. Broken marble bit into my hands and knees.
I clambered to my feet and balanced shakily on a large block. Lucas! The sudden thought nearly sent me staggering off the pile as I looked quickly around. Had he been far enough off the balcony to avoid the accident?
Looking upward, I saw the red curtain flapping free, the doorway it shielded now opening onto nothingness. Leaning out of the gaping hole was the prince, his distant face transformed by shock.
“Elena!”
“I…I’m fine.” I gave him a feeble wave before letting my arm drop foolishly.
A commotion sounded from inside the ballroom, but the prince didn’t turn toward it. Instead, he pulled out a rolled length of parchment. Tearing it, he stuffed the two halves back into his jacket and stepped into the open air.
My half scream of protest died when, instead of plummeting to the ground, he remained upright as if his feet rested on an invisible balcony.
As I watched, he slowly descended to the ground, lowered on a platform of air.
Now that my initial panic had subsided, I could sense the power of his composition, centered beneath his boots. The sensation reminded me of the one I had felt as the balcony first began to give way. It was the same awareness of controlled power that filled the composition classroom whenever my classmates released a working.
The composition I had felt as the balcony collapsed had been subtle and full of far more finesse than the prince’s working, but it had been unmistakable. Had he felt it? Had he composed it?
But when his feet touched down, just outside the ring of rubble, he clambered straight up to me, reaching out a steadying hand to grip my elbow. The shock and fear on his face were enough to instantly drive away the thought.
I managed a shaky smile. “You didn’t learn that one in composition class.”
“I am a prince, remember.” He didn’t smile back, instead looking me over as if examining me for signs of injury. “How did you…?”
His words trailed away as we stared at each other with equally wide eyes. We both knew how I had survived. A dark look crossed his face.
“You just composed a shield. Verbally. You did a working, Elena.” He took a sharp breath. “Have you been holding out—”
“What? No! Of course not.” I pulled my elbow out of his grip and clambered down the pile of broken marble to firmer ground. He followed me, and I spun to face him.
“I guess emergencies bring it out. You all should have been dropping me from windows back at the Academy.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry. The shock…”
I raised an eyebrow. “Did you just apologize to me? Talk about shocks!”
A reluctant smile curled his mouth, but shouts from above drew his attention.
“Your Highness!”
“Lucas!”
“What happened?”
Voice of Power (The Spoken Mage Book 1) Page 15