I gently unwrapped it, letting it fall away to reveal a small wooden box covered in intricate carvings. I gasped.
“It’s beautiful.” I ran my hands over the wood. “You carved it yourself, didn’t you?”
He just continued smiling. “Open it.”
I turned the small key in the tiny lock. Inside I found a small paperweight—a colorful and glossy stone, polished until it shone.
“Father thought you might have need of something like that. Now that you can read.”
Beside the stone sat a bag. I didn’t need to open it to identify its contents.
“Yes! Midwinter cookies!”
Jasper grinned. “I know it’s well past Midwinter now, but I also knew you wouldn’t mind.”
“Definitely not. I missed these. No one here makes them.”
Our mother made the best Midwinter cookies in Kingslee. Hard, indestructible things that lasted for months—unless you dipped them into tea at which point they turned soft and utterly delicious. My hand brushed against the bag, my mouth already watering, and something small and soft poked out from underneath. I drew out a small woolen doll. The kind I used to make for Clemmy when she was small.
Each one was only as tall as one of my fingers, but I had made the details as intricate as possible. She had wanted a family of them—one for each of us—and had kept them, despite being mostly past the age of dolls. I drew in a shaky breath.
It was Clementine herself. She had sent me the doll I had made to represent her.
“She misses you,” said Jasper softly.
“I miss her too,” I said through tears.
The bell for breakfast sounded, and Jasper sat up abruptly.
“I have to go!”
I wiped at my eyes, nodding as I put the lid back down and turned the key before removing it and placing it safely inside my dress.
“Me too.”
We both stood and gave each other a final hug before hurrying out of the room and down the stairs. Jasper received several curious looks, but no one questioned his presence, and he had soon barreled straight out the front doors and back toward the University.
I barely made it into the dining hall before Coralie attacked.
“Elena!” She gave me a slight shake and then a hug. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Ummm…” I stared at her. “Tell you what?”
“That it’s your birthday!” She glared at me. “That’s not the sort of information you hide from your friends. I’m hurt.”
“Oh. That.” I examined her face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
She burst out laughing. “Just joking. It’s your birthday! You can’t get in trouble today.”
“Did you tell that to Redmond? Or Thornton?”
She scrunched up her nose. “Wasn’t that your brother I just saw leaving? I assume he came to wish you happy birthday. Shouldn’t you be in a better mood?”
The tiny key weighed down my pocket and sent my thoughts upstairs to the pieces of my family that now lived in my room.
“You’re right.”
“I am?” Coralie looked so shocked I had to laugh.
“Now you’re making me feel bad. I’m sure you’re often right.”
“Am I?” But she looked distracted, shoving me into my normal chair and gesturing to someone I couldn’t see.
Finnian appeared and sat across from me, Saffron sliding into the seat next to him. She had never sat with us before.
“Happy Birthday,” she said quietly, and Finnian repeated the good wishes more heartily.
“Thank you.” I grinned at them both. “Now tell me I’m being excused from both combat and composition, and it will really be a good birthday.”
Finnian grimaced dramatically. “Such feats are beyond me—even for your fair birthday self.”
“But we’ve got the next best thing,” said Coralie, bouncing on the spot.
A servant appeared next to me carrying an elaborate cake, covered in dripping chocolate. He placed it in front of me with murmured birthday wishes.
I turned wide eyes on Coralie. “I thought you only just found out about my birthday. From Damon, I assume.”
“I did.” She beamed. “But we’re mages, remember?”
I drew back without thinking, and Finnian laughed. “We didn’t compose it, don’t worry.”
Coralie rolled her eyes, and I took a relieved breath. It looked delicious, but only the most skilled mages could compose edible food from nothing, and as much as I loved Coralie…
“Of course not! I just meant we have money, you idiot. A little in some cases, a lot in others.” She directed a significant look at Finnian. “We sent a servant to the bakers as fast as he could run.”
“It looks incredible.” I examined it closely. “Too good to eat.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. No cake is too good to eat.” Coralie sat down, almost drooling as she eyed the delicacy in front of me.
“But it’s first thing in the morning,” I said.
“But it’s your birthday,” she countered. “And on birthdays, there is no inappropriate time for cake.”
“Just promise me you’re not going to sing.” I fixed her with a stern look.
“Actually…” Finnian opened his mouth and took a deep breath, and I almost lunged across the table at him.
Coralie pulled me back before I ended up with a front full of cake.
“Relax, Elena. He’s only teasing you.”
“He likes to do that,” said Saffron, glaring at her cousin.
“What can I say?” Finnian spread his arms wide. “I can’t help myself.” He certainly didn’t look in the least repentant.
The cake turned out to be one of the most delicious things I had ever eaten, despite the early hour of the day, and I insisted we share a piece with Clarence and Araminta at the next table. Clarence looked surprised—he had been reading while he ate and seemed to have missed the appearance of the cake—but he accepted a slice willingly enough. And Araminta followed his lead, although she looked slightly terrified and cast a single quick glance at the only other occupied table, further down the row.
“Oh, never mind them,” said Coralie cheerfully. “For once they’re all envying us.”
And I did catch Lavinia, at least, casting a longing glance at the chocolaty tower in front of me. But Natalya pulled her hurriedly past our laughing group when they left the hall shortly afterward, the others following in their wake.
“You can’t be late on your birthday,” Coralie said, pushing me to my feet. “You go ahead while I get these leftovers taken care of.”
Finnian gave her a mock stern look, and she giggled. “I don’t mean eat them. There’s still plenty left. The servants can save it for our lunch.”
She shoved me away again, so I started slowly toward the door, only to discover that one at least of Natalya’s crowd had yet to leave the room. As I reached the doorway, I almost brushed against Lucas’s shoulder, pulling back at the last minute when I recognized him.
He stepped through, and after a moment’s hesitation, I followed. But outside the room he paused and glanced back at me.
“Happy Birthday,” he said softly.
I just stared at him. It was the first time we had spoken since the attack in the corridor.
He shrugged and gave a smile that seemed almost pained. “You wished it to me, so…”
His words reminded me of the doubt I’d had that night as we stood alone in the moonlight. The creeping thoughts that perhaps he wasn’t as bad as I had first imagined. But his subsequent behavior had set things straight.
I stared through him, and swept past, hurrying toward the front door and combat class.
“Elena,” he called softly after me, his voice easily catching my ears despite the low volume.
I faltered. But I never found out what he had been going to say. Instead an official herald thrust open the front doors and entered the entrance hall, a royal guard flanking him on either side.
; I glanced back at Lucas, thinking they must be here for him, but I detected confusion behind his usual confident expression. When I looked back at the newcomers, I found them all staring at me.
I stared back.
“Elena of Kingslee?” asked the herald.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“You are hereby summoned to court to appear before the Mage Council. We will escort you there immediately.”
Chapter 21
A gasp behind me told me Coralie had reached the door of the dining hall in time to hear the herald’s words. I didn’t look back though. How long had I been expecting something like this? Too long.
I stepped forward, proud of myself for not faltering or hesitating. I did thrust my trembling hands into my robe to hide them, however.
The herald nodded and turned to leave, but the two guards stepped forward, clearly intending to flank me now instead of the messenger. I felt a presence move forward to stand beside me, however, and the two men paused. After a shared glance, they resumed their previous places.
Coralie wouldn’t have that effect. I looked sideways and saw that Lucas kept pace with me, his narrowed eyes haughtily daring the guards to question or approach him.
“What are you doing?” I whispered aggressively, but he just directed his cool look at me, one eyebrow raised.
“I didn’t realize I answered to you, Elena.”
I bit back my retort when one of the guards looked back over his shoulder at us, and instead stalked forward, keeping my gaze firmly in front of me. Even a tiny sound—almost like a chuckle—from beside me didn’t make me turn back to the prince.
The herald gestured me into a waiting carriage—had they been expecting me to struggle and didn’t want to have to walk me even the short distance? The gold robes of the guards marked them as officers—mages—so perhaps they had. None of the three of them made any move to follow me inside. The prince, on the other hand, climbed easily in behind me.
I sat back against the seat and glared at him. When he merely looked back at me with a level gaze, I transferred my attention out the window. We had nearly reached the palace—the drive ludicrously short—when words burst out of me.
“Did you know about this?”
“No.” He sounded serious, and almost…worried.
My brother’s words echoed around my head. I truly had meant to heed them, but I hadn’t had time to do so. And now I might never get the chance. I just hoped whatever was about to happen wouldn’t rebound on my family. No matter what, this time I needed to hold my tongue.
“You should say as little as possible,” said Lucas suddenly.
I instantly felt a rebellious desire to ignore his advice, but I firmly squashed it down. This was too important to let such petty feelings overset me. I slipped my hand into my pocket to clutch at the key hidden there. I could do this. For my family.
My second arrival at the palace couldn’t have been more dissimilar from my first. No lights burned to welcome us, despite the day being overcast. And no line of footmen waited to usher us inside. Instead another six guards appeared, these ones common folk who looked to the two mage officers for direction.
When the prince emerged from the carriage and resumed his place at my side, they fell in behind their superiors, trailing us in two columns. The herald had disappeared, and Lucas guided our steps now.
My anxiety overwhelmed most of my curiosity, but I did absorb that the red and gold theme of the celebration matched the regular decor of the palace—red velvet and gilding offsetting the white marble everywhere I looked.
We didn’t mount the stairs this time, instead taking a side door down a long corridor. We passed enormous elaborate doors that I could only imagine led into the throne room, but Lucas’s stride never faltered. I breathed a sigh of relief for that at least.
Instead he led us to a regular-sized door nearly at the end of the corridor. Only the gilt pattern around the handle and doorframe declared the room inside anything special.
Lucas paused for a moment, glancing down at me, and I got the distinct impression he wanted to ask me if I was ready. But either I was wrong, or he realized the foolishness of such a question, because he turned the handle without speaking and entered the room ahead of me.
“Lucas.” If King Stellan was surprised at the appearance of his son, he hid it well.
“Father.” The prince nodded to the king and then to the others in the room before striding down the long table to take a seat just behind his father’s chair. An oval table—the king at its head in a carved wooden chair with a towering back and substantial arm rests—took up most of the room. Five chairs in a less elaborate style lined each curving side, and another towering one sat at the foot of the table, the elegant folds of the queen’s skirts almost overflowing it, despite the generous size.
All ten of the remaining seats—obviously for the ten members of the Mage Council—were filled. Lorcan made no attempt to meet my gaze, although I knew he had marked my entrance.
I looked around at them all. Both generals regarded me steadily—Thaddeus with open hostility and Griffith with wary interest. But, like Lorcan, Jessamine made no move to look at me. She was apparently too familiar with my appearance for curiosity now.
I cast my eyes over the remaining six, trying to place them all. Phyllida of the seekers—relative, however distant, of Lorcan and Jessamine—wore her sleek brown hair pulled back just as tightly as I remembered. The other Callinos—Duke Dashiell of the healers—was easy to pick although I hadn’t seen him at the Midwinter celebrations in the end. He looked too much like his son to mistake. I wondered if the likeness made me imagine the greater look of kindness he seemed to wear.
The only other woman—wearing the green robe of the growers—must be Duchess Annika of Devoras. She looked enough like General Griffith to make me wonder if they were first cousins, or even siblings. She sat beside the red-robed Duke Lennox, Head of Law Enforcement and another face I recognized. He had seemed to soften toward me by the end of my testing, but I saw none of that softness now. It was hard to believe he was a relative of the open and friendly Walden.
Which left only two. One wore a blue robe and must be Duke Magnus of the wind workers—another Ellington like Lennox, although I could see no family resemblance. He regarded me quizzically, a look of uncertainty in his eyes, that made me hope he at least hadn’t made up his mind.
The peach-toned robe of the remaining duke—the same color as the creator who had repaired the library after my destructive loss of control—looked out of place on a man with such stern lines to his face. No surprise whatsoever that Duke Casimir was a Stantorn. Whatever sides were being drawn—if indeed there were sides—I had no doubt he would be against me.
The king cleared his throat, and my eyes flew to him.
“Please take a seat, Elena of Kingslee.”
I didn’t move, unsure where he wanted me to go, until one of the guards gestured for me to take one of the chairs lining one wall of the room. The two gold-robed officers sat near me, the only other witnesses of this meeting.
“You called this meeting, General Thaddeus.” The king sounded official, but also slightly bored. As if he didn’t want to be there. Given the gleam in his eye, I could only assume it was a calculated affectation. “I hand the floor over to you.”
Thaddeus gave a slow nod and looked around the table. “As you know, it has taken some time for the full council to gather, but some among us felt this matter could not be settled with any less than our full numbers.”
The direction of his narrowed gaze made it clear that Lorcan bore the brunt of his displeasure. The Academy Head merely stared coolly back.
The general continued. “It has come to my attention that the first year trainee going by the name of Elena of Kingslee—”
I had to refrain from snorting despite the seriousness of the situation. Going by the name of? Was he serious?
“—has manifested new abilities of unknown strength and has used thes
e abilities in a violent manner in the presence of a member of the royal family.”
I straightened, any desire to find humor in the situation instantly erased. I glanced over at Lucas. He looked impassive, but I had caught him giving a slight twitch at the general’s words. He was surprised. Whoever had told the Head of the Royal Guard about the altercation back at the Academy, it hadn’t been him.
Why did that give me the tiniest feeling of relief?
Lorcan made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. “Oh for goodness sake, Thaddeus, we aren’t at an official court hearing. Is all this formality really necessary? Or are you just trying to cover the fact that the trainee in question did not direct any violence toward a member of the royal family?”
Thank goodness I had retained a tiny grain of sense in the middle of my beating, or I might not have had even that defense.
“The violence may not have been toward the prince,” General Griffith bowed slightly in Lucas’s direction, “but as the father of two of the victims, that affords me only the slightest measure of relief.”
Ah. Of course. That was where Thaddeus had heard of it, no doubt. Why could I not remember that my year mates were not just sixteen-year-olds like me, mere fellow students? With a slight start, I remembered that I wasn’t sixteen anymore. Not as of today. Happy birthday me.
“If I remember rightly,” said Phyllida, in the calm voice I had heard her use previously, “altercations among trainees is not exactly unheard of at the Academy.” She sent a knowing look at Duke Lennox across from her, and for a moment he looked as if he was trying to suppress a smile. Had they been year mates?
“Between normal trainees, perhaps so,” said Thaddeus. “But this girl is no normal trainee. Her strength is unknown—as is her control.”
Jessamine rolled her eyes. “Really Thaddeus? The girl has been at the Academy for how many months now? Can you really claim to be concerned about her control?”
Thaddeus glared at her. “I am well aware that you and Lorcan would like to keep the subject of your studies in easy reach, Jessamine. Which is perhaps why you failed to report to me her loss of control—which resulted in significant damage to the Academy and one of its instructors—or her recent attack on her fellow students.”
Voice of Power (The Spoken Mage Book 1) Page 20