Alassa's Tale: a Schooled in Magic novella

by Christopher Nuttall

  She gave him a hug. “So you think I should persist?”

  “Yes,” Jade said. “You’ll inherit the throne and formal power. But what you can do with it might be limited by how much – or how little – they respect you.”

  He kissed her, again. “You have plenty of time to build up respect. And neither you nor our child are threatened by a little baby boy.”

  Alassa looked down at her hands, torn between shame and a grim understanding that she had no choice. She’d sworn her oath to the kingdom, when she’d been confirmed as Crown Princess and Heir. It was her duty to deal with threats to her family, even when the threats shared her blood. King Randor had banished his brother to the Duchy of Iron, where he lived in comfortable confinement. Alassa might not have that option when it came to dealing with her half-brother. A young man with the resources of a barony was not someone who could be underestimated.

  She sighed. The coldly logical part of her argued that the child should die so the kingdom could remain at peace. But the emotional part of her insisted that the child was a helpless little boy. Alexis had committed no crime, save for being born. And how could she blame him for that?

  It’s father’s fault, she thought. And Alicia’s.

  “Thank you,” she said, after a long moment. “You’re very reasonable.”

  “I try,” Jade said. He looked conflicted. “I promised you that I’d always give you good advice. And I meant it.”

  Alassa nodded. She was lucky. Her husband wasn’t plotting to overthrow her, or take their child for himself, or even chasing women around the court. And he was offering her good advice, even if it was a little frustrating. Compared to some of the men she knew infested the court, Jade was a saint! Her father wasn’t the only man with an illegitimate child. One nobleman boasted over a hundred children.

  And others keep their wives on their estates, well away from court, she thought. Some even beat their wives.

  She shuddered at the thought. She’d promised herself, years before her marriage was more than a theoretical possibility, that she’d kill her husband if he tried to beat her. The black magic tomes she’d purchased offered plenty of ways to kill an abusive husband from a distance, if she didn’t put the knife in him herself. And yet, there would have been consequences if she’d married a prince and killed him. Her father might have had to send her to her former in-laws for punishment, just to stave off a war.

  “Thank you,” she said, quietly. She knew what she was thanking him for. “You’re very kind.”

  “You’re welcome,” Jade said. He winked at her. “Do you want to wash and then go to bed?”

  Alassa felt her stomach twist. “I definitely need to wash,” she said. She’d have to banish all traces of sickness, too. Lady Lye would notice and rumors would start to spread. “And then …”

  She stood and walked towards the bathroom. There was no need to call a maid, not when she was perfectly capable of washing herself. Whitehall had taught her that, right at the start. Getting into a shower – or even filling a tub with water – was hardly a difficult task, even if there were some noblewomen who believed manual labor was beneath them. It still pained her to recall that there had been times when she’d thought she needed her maids to do everything. If nothing else, she was more independent than most of the ladies of the court.

  Perhaps that helps too, she thought, wryly. How can a woman earn respect when someone else does everything for her?

  She pushed the thought aside as she heated the water, then stripped down and washed herself thoroughly. The dress would have to be given to the maids, of course, but she could use a couple of spells to clean it before she put it in the basket to be washed. They wouldn’t know what she’d been doing before undressing.

  Not that it will stop the rumors, she reminded herself. But it might keep them down to a dull roar.

  She walked back into the bedroom, naked. Jade was studying a note.

  “Sir William sends his regards,” he said. “He and the men will be ready to leave on the state visit tomorrow afternoon.”

  Alassa frowned. “So quickly?”

  “So it seems,” Jade said. “The king has already set our itinerary.”

  “He is efficient,” Alassa conceded. Her father clearly wanted to prevent an incident. Alassa hadn’t been planning to cut Alicia dead during a state dinner, but it was something she might have done. “And we do have to check in with the baroness.”

  She dismissed the thought. “Get washed,” she ordered. Jade looked up, his eyes going wide when he saw her. Alassa had to smile. She knew she was beautiful – she’d been designed to be beautiful – but it was nice to have proof that Jade thought so. “And then come to bed.”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Jade said. He started to undo his shirt. “I’ll be along in a second.”

  Chapter Nine

  “We HAVE A … PROBLEM,” JADE SAID, the following morning.

  Alassa looked up, sharply. She should have known the morning was going too well. They’d made love before falling asleep and again after they’d woken up, then enjoyed a leisurely breakfast in their private dining room. She’d even managed to keep most of her breakfast down as they’d planned, afterwards, a way to visit their country estates following the state visit to Harkness. Things had definitely been going too well.

  Jade held out the chat parchment they shared. “Take a look.”

  Alassa took the parchment and read it, quickly. “She wants you to be one of her jurors?”

  She frowned as she considered the implications. Emily’s last message had spoken of her fears and frustrations, not about a trial. But … she scrolled back up, reading each successive paragraph twice. Frieda was going on trial … and, if she was found guilty, she would be handed over to Fulvia of House Ashworth. Alassa had met Fulvia. She wouldn’t have given a forged book of spells for Frieda’s chances once Fulvia got her hands on the poor girl.

  “Crap,” she said, finally. Jade wasn’t royalty. He’d merely married into royalty. But there might still be problems if he joined the jury. “Do you want to go?”

  “We owe her,” Jade said, quietly.

  We owe Emily, Alassa thought. She liked Frieda – the younger girl reminded her a little of herself – but she owed Emily. And I have to repay my debts.

  She groaned, inwardly. There was no way she could go herself, not with preparations for the state visit already well underway. Her father would hardly let her cancel the visit long enough to go to Whitehall. And besides, her presence would certainly cause problems. Hell, her father might object to Jade going. Jade was his Court Wizard, after all.

  “We’ll have to tell father,” Alassa said. She cursed under her breath. Her father wasn’t Emily’s biggest fan. He might deny Jade permission to go. “And then …”

  She rang the bell, then reached for a piece of paper and scribbled out a short note for her father. Mouse appeared a second later, looking depressingly cheerful. Alassa gave her the note and strict orders to take it straight to the king, then dismissed her and turned back to Jade. She didn’t want him to go, damn it. But she knew Jade had to go.

  “If father says yes, you need to go,” she told him. “And … you’d better stay in touch.”

  “If I can,” Jade warned her. “They might not let us talk to outsiders.”

  Alassa winced. “Do everything you can to end it quickly,” she said. They hadn’t spent more than a few days apart since they’d gotten married. “And don’t mess it up.”

  “I won’t,” Jade said.

  Mouse returned, carrying a roll of parchment. Alassa took it, her finger brushing aside the king’s wax seal. It was a simple statement, formally granting Jade permission to attend the trial as a juror … but as an independent personage, rather than a representative of Zangaria. He wasn’t even allowed to talk to his wife. And he was being ordered to leave immediately … She felt a surge of irritation, mingled with the grim awareness that her father didn’t have much choice. The Compact had to be hon
ored.

  “Very good,” she said, sourly. “You’d better pack.”

  She glanced at Mouse. “Pack my husband a set of clothes … enough for a couple of weeks, I think. They can be washed there, if necessary.”

  “I can get more clothes at Whitehall,” Jade reminded her. Like most common-born, he was uncomfortable with servants handling the packing. “And don’t touch my toolbox.”

  “Make sure you take everything you need,” Alassa told him. “You won’t be allowed to come back until the trial is over, one way or the other.”

  Mouse was still standing there. Alassa glanced at her, inquiringly.

  “The Lady Imaiqah is coming this afternoon, Your Highness,” Mouse said. “Will she be taking tea with you?”

  Lady Lye must have ordered her to ask, Alassa thought. She blinked in surprise as she realized what Mouse had actually said. Imaiqah is coming here?

  She looked at Jade. “If she’s coming, then yes,” she said, slowly. She could delay her departure by a few hours, if she wished. It wasn’t as if her itinerary was worked out to the second. Anyone with half a brain knew it was difficult to predict precisely how long it would take even a relatively small convoy to reach its destination. “Did Lady Lye say when Imaiqah would be arriving?”

  “No, Your Highness,” Mouse said.

  Alassa nodded. Imaiqah didn’t need to do anything more than step through a portal to reach Alexis. She could reach the castle at any time. And then … Alassa smiled. She could meet her friend and have a proper chat with her, discussing things she didn’t dare share with anyone else. Perhaps she could talk Imaiqah into coming with her. Cockatrice could take care of itself for a few days.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Go pack.”

  Mouse scurried off. Alassa met Jade’s eyes. “I didn’t know Imaiqah was coming,” she said. “Why do you think she was summoned?”

  “There are still rumblings in Beneficence,” Jade said. “They’ve been spreading into Swanhaven and Cockatrice.”

  “Perhaps,” Alassa said. “Or maybe he’s finally decided it’s time for Imaiqah to marry.”

  She sighed, inwardly. She had no idea if Imaiqah wanted to marry Sir Robin, particularly if he’d been chosen by the king. And if she didn’t … Alassa shook her head in annoyance. It would be … unfortunate … if her father tried to press Imaiqah into a marriage she didn’t want. Imaiqah might be less flashy than Alassa – and less famous than Emily – but she had power and the skill to use it. Or she could simply leave, secure in the knowledge she could make a decent living elsewhere. Alassa would need to be there to mediate if negotiations went badly.

  “He has been talking about it for a while,” Jade agreed. “And Imaiqah has said nothing.”

  “She wouldn’t,” Alassa said. “Not openly, at least.”

  “No,” Jade agreed. He rose. “Take care of her too, alright? That’ll win you some respect.”

  Alassa stuck her tongue out at him, then followed him into his workroom. A handful of tools sat on the workbench, protected by a complex set of interlocking hexes and wards. The maids refused to dust in the workroom, let alone do anything else. Alassa didn’t blame them. She could see the wards, but she’d have problems undoing them. The maids, lacking even the merest hint of magic, would be scared of triggering a ward they couldn’t see until it was far too late. Jade wasn’t cruel, unlike some magicians she’d met, but the experience would still be thoroughly unpleasant.

  She watched him pick up and pack a handful of tools, then pull a sorcerer’s robe over his shirt and trousers. It made him look older, somehow, as he swung his bag over his shoulder and headed for the door. She hadn’t worn something similar for nearly two years, not since she’d left school. It made her feel nostalgic. Whitehall had been exciting and dangerous, but it had also been a simpler time. Now … she didn’t dare cough for fear that someone would take it as a sign of weakness – or as an excuse to start something violent.

  Mouse had packed a simple trunk. Jade opened it, shook his head in wry amusement and then closed it again. Alassa understood. Mouse – and the other servants – would have assumed Jade needed enough clothes to outfit a dozen men, as if he couldn’t have them washed at Whitehall. She’d had to take a dozen trunks when she’d gone to Whitehall for her first year, although she hadn’t used more than a handful of dresses. But Jade had been taught to travel light.

  “It’ll do,” she told him, as he levitated the trunk into the air. She didn’t want him to go. He could stay another few hours, couldn’t he? But she knew better. “Shall we go?”

  She opened one of the hidden passageways and led him up a concealed flight of stairs, the trunk following them like an obedient puppy. The darkened passageways brought back memories, reminding her of the days she’d explored the network as a young girl. One of the passageways allowed wanderers to peer into the maid quarters, letting them watch as the maids removed their clothes before bed. It made her wonder, now, if her father had watched the maids when he’d been younger. The thought made her stomach churn. She didn’t want to think about it.

  And besides, he wouldn’t have any problem convincing a maid to take her clothes off for him anyway, she told herself, firmly. A common-born maid couldn’t hope to marry the prince, but being a mistress came with vast rewards. Father was the prince long before he was the king.

  The wards parted at her touch, allowing them to step into the teleport chamber. It was the only room in the castle where someone could teleport out without having to walk right outside the building, although no one could teleport in. Jade had told her that he’d tried to find a way to allow certain people to enter without having to walk through the gates, but it was impossible. There was no way to tell who was trying to teleport until they actually arrived.

  Jade turned to face her. “I’ll be back as quick as I can.”

  “I know,” Alassa said. She wondered just what the pregnancy was doing to her. She felt weepy. She hadn’t felt so weepy in her entire life. “And … when they ask, don’t be too confident about the baby. Please.”

  “I understand,” Jade said. She knew he did understand. “And afterwards … I could bring them back for a visit.”

  “Father wouldn’t be pleased,” Alassa said. Emily was technically an exile, although the king would have real problems keeping her from visiting the country as long as she kept her head down. “But we could always meet in Swanhaven.”

  She hugged him tightly, silently relieved there were no watching eyes. “Goodbye,” she said, reluctantly. “Come back soon.”

  Jade bowed, then stepped back into the center of the room. Alassa retreated to the door and watched as his body flared with light, then vanished. She had to blink away bitter tears. She knew he had to go – she’d told him to go – and yet she felt as though he’d abandoned her for good. She wanted to go back to the chat parchment and order him home …

  No wonder the men are so reluctant to put a woman on the throne, she thought, as she turned and made her way back up the secret passage. Pregnancy plays merry hell with our brains.

  She gritted her teeth, reluctant to concede that the men might have a point. But it didn’t matter. She’d have her heir – and a spare – long before her father died, allowing her to take the throne. She would make certain not to get pregnant again, once she was queen. They wouldn’t be able to claim that her hormones would destroy her ability to rule.

  It felt harder, somehow, to step through the hidden entrance and back into the real world. She was tempted, despite herself, to remain within the secret passages and explore, as she’d done as a child. There were entire sections she knew existed, but she hadn’t been able to enter. It would be fun, perhaps, to see if she could find the entrances now. But she didn’t have the time. She closed the hidden entrance, replacing the concealment spells with a wave of her hand. Her father had made it clear, years ago, that she was not to show the passageways to the servants. A servant who found one of the entrances would be executed. Her father had
never placed much faith in mind-wiping spells.

  There was a tap on the door, a moment later. “Come.”

  Sir William stepped into the chamber. “Your Highness,” he said. “The convoy will be ready to depart as planned.”

  And a very quick plan it was too, Alassa thought. It normally took weeks to prepare for a state visit. Her father had put the plan together with astonishing speed. We didn’t even know we’d be going until last night.

  She met his eyes. “We’ll be leaving in the late afternoon,” she said. “Will we have enough time to reach Falcone’s Nest?”

  Sir William paused to think. “We should, Your Highness,” he said. “But I would advise that we leave earlier.”

  Would you, now? Alassa bit down a sharp reaction. It was his job to point out potential problems. And yet … would he have said it to Jade? Or King Randor? I don’t want to leave too early.

  “We will still be in daylight,” Alassa said. Very few people travelled at night, certainly not outside the bigger towns and cities. Everyone knew the night belonged to the supernatural world. “And that is all that matters.”

  Sir William bowed. He was too old a courtier to show any trace of displeasure, but she had no trouble picking up on it anyway. She didn’t blame him, either. Keeping her safe was his job and she’d just made it harder. He might double or triple her guard, but they might still be outnumbered and outgunned if they faced another ambush. She silently promised him that she wouldn’t ride off again.

  And if Imaiqah accompanies me, we’ll have to sit in the carriage and talk, she thought, wryly. We’ll have a lot to discuss.

  She took a breath. “Are the men ready?”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Sir William said. “I have thirty men assigned to the convoy, all armed with muskets and pistols as well as more … conventional weaponry. We should be more than a match for any bandits.”