Taken By The Passion (The Academy Series)

by Mansfield, Maxine

  Lizbeth grimaced. “Adan doesn’t know yet. Please don’t say anything to him.”

  Lark looked confused. “He doesn’t know yet? How is that possible? You two had to have discussed stopping your PDUP spell, didn’t you? Don’t get me wrong, I’d never dream of denying you the pleasure of telling your husband he’s going to be a father, but you really need to tell him soon. I know my brother, and he’s never been one to enjoy being on the outside of a secret. I’ll just tell my sisters, and Briar and Laycee. That is unless you want to.”

  Lizbeth almost screamed her “No!” out loud. “You mustn’t tell anyone, please. Adan can’t find out yet. I need more time. I just want to get through the holidays and the beginning of the new semester before I spring this on him. We didn’t discuss having a child so soon. It was an accident. I’m not sure how I could’ve forgotten to cast my PDUP spell a couple of times, but I did.”

  Lark patted her hand. “Fine, I won’t tell my sisters, but you’re going to have to tell Briar and Laycee. Not only are they sitting here staring holes in the back of your head, but in your condition you need to be closely followed by a healer to be on the safe side. Oh, and don’t forget, Laycee was my family’s governess for many years, so I have no doubt she’ll have all kinds of helpful, motherly advice for you. Don’t worry about a thing, you can trust the three of us to keep your secret.”

  ****

  “Shhh.” Lizbeth flinched as lightning once more streaked across the sky and thunder boomed in the distance. She linked the fingers across her tummy. “You need to calm down before your father gets here, please.”

  She sighed. Who was she kidding? She’d been waiting in Adan’s room for him to get home for more than a complete turn of the hourglass, and it wasn’t the baby who needed to calm down. It was she. He was only reacting to her panic. Though it was still early evening, the sky had the appearance of blackest night and had since her midday conversation at lunch.

  She tried once more to sooth her tiny Spiritmaster. “I’m going to tell him about you tonight before anyone else has a chance to find out, really I am. Everything’s going to be fine, you’ll see. We’ll get it all out in the open, and I’ll explain to Adan why I must stay here at the Academy for another semester at least. I’ll tell him why I have to perfect the protection spells before I can even think about leaving here. He’ll understand. I know he will. He has to.”

  Of their own volition, her hands sought the heart-shaped locket at her throat, and she twirled it between her thumb and index finger.

  Walking across the room to the doors leading to the tower’s balcony, Lizbeth threw them wide open, allowing the crisp, fresh breeze from the storm to wash over her. She tilted her face to the wind, closed her eyes, and took in deep, slow breaths. Before more than a handful of grains of sand had time to slip through the hourglass, the clouds parted, the rain stopped, and stars twinkled above while the shimmer from the three moons of Albrath shone down upon the landscape.

  She didn’t hear him enter the room. She wasn’t even aware of his presence until his familiar arms wrapped about her waist and his head rested upon hers. She plastered a smile on her visage and braced herself for what she was determined to do. “I’m glad you’re home, Adan. I have something to tell you.” She squared her shoulders and turned to face her husband.

  Her smile immediately faded. She had seen many expressions on her barbarian prince’s face over the past few weeks, but never this one. He looked defensive and tired, yet at the same time, strangely excited.

  “What’s happened?”

  He shook his head. “It can wait. What is your news, my lady?”

  Lizbeth opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and tried again. “No, really, you go first. Tell me what’s happened. It must be important.”

  Adan sighed, then grinned. “If you insist.”

  He took Lizbeth by the hand and led her to the bed, motioning for her to sit, and she did. He ran his fingers through his hair, twisted his neck as far right as possible while rubbing the back of it with his other hand as if he were trying to work out a stiff knot, then he knelt before her and smiled widely though no humor was reflected in his eyes. “Did you bring a proper gown with you for formal morning dining by chance?”

  Lizbeth slowly nodded. “It’s not new, but it’s the most beautiful thing I own.”

  “Do you remember all those boring classes you were forced to take on deportment and how to carry yourself in the presence of royals?”

  A chill ran up Lizbeth’s spine. “Of course I do.”

  “Well, you won’t believe it, but it seems my parents have arrived unexpectantly today and they’ve decided to spend Yulemass…here…with us. We’ve been summoned to break our fast with them on the marrow. I really thought it would take my mother much longer to get over being angry with me for letting Sarco win in the arena last year. I know I shouldn’t care, but they are my parents and I have sorely missed my father’s company. We used to spar every morning in the lists.”

  “The Queen and the King are here at the Academy, this very moment?” Her voice came out as more of a squeak than actual words.

  Adan grinned even wider as somewhere in the distance thunder rumbled and the sound of fat drops of rain hitting cobblestone competed with the ringing in Lizbeth’s ears.

  When she didn’t immediately say anything else, Adan stopped smiling, stood, and began pacing. “She’s really not as bad as people make her out to be, you know. She told me she feels horrible about missing our wedding and wants to make it up to us. I know Mother can be trying, but she is the queen and I am her son. I must show her respect. I admit, she can be a tad abrasive and, at times, hard to take, but I do remember hearing her speak fondly of you as a child. All I ask is, while they’re here, try and get along with her. For my father’s and my sake, if for no other reason.”

  Adan grimaced. “At least you won’t have to worry about her considering you a freak. She doesn’t have any reason to look down on you or to be hateful like she is to Lark. She refuses to allow my youngest sister into her presence. She’s never forgiven her for being born a Spiritmaster, even though the gene is from her own side of the family. She considers Lark the family disgrace. I don’t though. I love my sister in spite of what she is.”

  A knot formed in Lizbeth’s throat, and it became difficult to breath.

  “Whatever you do, Lizard, don’t mention the word Spiritmaster in her presence, please. It’s taboo. Also, my mother abhors anything she doesn’t understand, and that includes magic, so let’s keep the fact you’re studying to become an enchantress between us for the time being. Now, what’s your news?”

  Lizbeth shivered though not from the cold. It was deeper, a shudder all the way to her soul. She placed a hand protectively across her abdomen and looked her husband straight in the eyes. “Lark, Briar, and Laycee have volunteered to help me make a gown for the Yulemass ball from the beautiful yellow silk you gave me. Isn’t that wonderful of them?”

  Outside the sky opened into a full-blown downpour.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Do sit up straight and don’t slouch, dear. A future queen must be conscious of her appearance at all times. Isn’t that correct, Adan?”

  Her husband nodded without even looking up from his plate of boar’s kidneys, baked and wrapped in grape leaves, and Lizbeth was sorely tempted to kick him. Anyone paying any attention at all would think it had been years instead of weeks since he’d enjoyed one of his favorite delicacies. Lizbeth, on the other hand, absently pushed hers around with her fork. The thought of trying to swallow anything right now, especially boar’s kidneys, was more than she could imagine. Even the idea of it had her stomach churning and bile rising.

  The last turn of the hourglass had been pure torture, and the third course hadn’t been served yet. She’d managed so far to keep her responses limited to yes, Your Majesty, and no, Your Majesty, but was doubtful at the moment if she would make it through the entire m
eal without causing at least one serious breech of etiquette. Right this moment, she couldn’t remember a single point of deportment.

  Lizbeth tried to take her mind off the woman sitting directly across from her, but she couldn’t. It was almost as if the last ten years hadn’t happened at all and she was once again eleven. Queen Allanna Zanlynn Calista Hammerstrike was as coldly beautiful and just as intimidating now as she’d been back then, perhaps even more so.

  Eyes the same blue as Adan’s glared across the table at her. The color was where the similarity ended, however. The Queen’s held none of the warmth Lizbeth had come to love when she looked into her husband’s face. Then there was her mouth. Lips red as blood, slanting upward and ending in the same cruel smirk Lizbeth recognized from so many of her nightmares. Skin as creamy and wrinkle free as a young girl, and a petite figure any princess would be envious of. It wasn’t fair. Not a single hair was out of place on her human, golden-locked head. Her curls were so tight, they wouldn’t have had the nerve to droop.

  Lizbeth fought back the sudden urge to giggle. She would bet those curls could withstand the ravishing damage of a thunderstorm and still come out bouncing. And storming outside the window of the royal suite it was. It had been all night without a moment’s relief. Lizbeth’s smile sobered as she rested a hand against her abdomen.

  “Forgive me for asking, dear, but after your mother passed away, didn’t you have anyone around to teach you how to dress properly? Or perhaps your family was too poor and couldn’t afford decent apparel? That gown looks to be more than a little tight on your…umm…larger than average frame and it’s dreadfully old-fashioned. If I’m not mistaken, and I never am, it’s at least two seasons out of date.”

  The Queen then turned her gaze upon her son. “Adan, how could you allow your wife to be clothed so shabbily? Shame on you.”

  Adan frowned. “She looks fine to me, Mother. Stop picking.”

  The queen bristled. “It’s a reflection on all of us, and I won’t have it. I’ll speak to my personal seamstress this very afternoon and set up an appointment for measurements to be taken. Then we can get a proper wardrobe at least started. Though one must wonder where in this part of Albrath we’ll find enough quality material to do one justice.”

  Lizbeth wanted to shout at her mother-in-law and tell her she preferred her plain gown to the white, frilly, monstrosity the queen was wearing any day of the week, but she didn’t. She glanced toward her husband who was already back into a deep conversation with his father about arenas, sparring, weapons, and such, and didn’t have the heart to do it. Lizbeth couldn’t remember another time she’d seen him look so relaxed and happy.

  So, instead of saying what she really wanted to say, she simply nodded, cleared her throat, and spoke softly. “Thank you, Your Majesty. That would be very kind of you.”

  Lizbeth ran her fingers caressingly across the soft velvet sash at her waist. She loved this dress. Bluish-green silk from head to toe with a tight, gathered bodice, velvet trim, and full puffy sleeves. Not the ordinary blue of the sky or the green of grass, it shimmered with all the multifaceted, deep blue and green hues of the ocean. It made her feel like a fairy princess whenever she slipped it on.

  The dress had been a present for her birthday two years ago, and Lizbeth knew for a fact, all three of her brothers had scrimped and saved to buy it for her. That’s why she took very good care of it and wore the dress only for the most special of occasions. Now she wished she had come to break her fast with her in-laws dressed simply in her school uniform of tunic and trousers.

  Lizbeth heard the distinct sound of sipping, then fine crystal touching down on china and braced herself for whatever insult the queen had thought up for her this time. She didn’t have long to wait.

  “I had hoped you would’ve ended up taking after your wood-elf mother more when it came to looks, dear. Though not particularly bright, she was passably pretty. But I see that didn’t happen. You’re definitely your Barbarian father’s daughter, in appearance and size. I still don’t understand why Alfred chose you to be our son’s wife. It’s not as if there weren’t an abundance of real princesses around to choose from.”

  Adan looked up from his conversation with his father, and the anger Lizbeth saw gleaming in his eyes bolstered her heart. “I said stop it, Mother. That’s quite enough.” He held out a hand to her and Lizbeth gladly placed her own within his grasp. “I happen to think my wife is very beautiful.”

  The queen sighed. “Not that it matters now, I suppose. After all, the vows have already been spoken. With any luck, and Lord Draka knows we’ll need it, the grandchildren to come from this…arrangement will take after my side of the family. We humans are inherently superior to other less fortunate races.”

  Adan shook his head.

  Lizbeth wanted to scream. She wanted to shake the woman and tell her that at least in one way she would be getting her wish. Her tiny, still growing Spiritmaster of a grandson had definitely gotten that particular gene from his grandmother, but she didn’t. She would never insult her child by comparing him to such an evil person. And, Lizbeth knew without a doubt, if she so much as opened her mouth, even a smidgen, she would cry. There was one thing she’d promised herself long ago, and that was, as God Draka was her witness, Queen Allanna Zanlynn Calista Hammerstrike would never, ever see her cry again.

  Adan patted her hand, smiling at her not only with his mouth but also with his eyes. “I hope all of our children look just like Lizbeth.”

  His words almost sent her over the edge. But it was the king himself who saved a rush of tears from developing.

  With the same exact hand-patting motion his son had just used on her, King Alfred Zavier Caden Hammerstrike now applied to his wife. “Now, Allanna, you know perfectly well why I chose the lass.” His voice was low and almost apologetic. “Her father, Lonhiem, was my favorite cousin. It was the least I could do to repay his loyalty. As you well know, he was willing to sacrifice his life to save mine when we were but boys.”

  The queen cut him off with a flip of her hand. “Say whatever you will, Alfred. Just because the man jumped in a pond once and pulled you out because you were too stupid to learn to swim doesn’t mean you had the right to saddle your only son with something less than he deserves.”

  The Queen then looked directly at Lizbeth and smiled. “Not that it’s any fault of yours, dear. I certainly don’t blame you. After all, it’s not as if you were given the opportunity to choose your parents.”

  Lizbeth stood and, for a fleeting moment, feared the shakiness of her knees would reveal the fact she wasn’t nearly as calm as she’d hoped to appear as she nonchalantly tossed her napkin upon the table. She had little doubt the visible trembling of her hands and the heat of anger she could sense burning her cheeks had long ago given away her true feelings. She was beyond caring.

  “I’ll have you know, my parents were wonderful people and I’m proud to have been their daughter. They may very well have been nothing more than a lowly wood-elf and a poor barbarian to you, but they loved each other and their children with everything they had. Not everyone can be like you and boast of coming from the lofty loins of not only humans but human Spiritmasters, Your Majesty, so I suppose you’ll just have to lower your standards in regards to daughter-in-laws.”

  Lizbeth smiled. “By the way, in case you didn’t know, I’m studying to become an enchantress. I’m going to practice magic, lots and lots of magic. Perhaps I’ll even learn how to turn a nasty old biddy into a wart-covered toad.”

  The queen shrieked, and the king patted her hand faster.

  Lizbeth glanced fleetingly toward Adan with a twinge of regret. His face was as white as his mother’s dress, and to say he looked stunned was an understatement. Silently, she lipped the words I’m sorry and pushed her chair out of the way. Turning without another word, Lizbeth stiffened her spine and stalked toward the door.

  “Well, it seems breakfast is over.” Adan stated.

  Lizbeth hes
itated a moment to hear anything else her husband had to say.

  “Perhaps we can do this again some other time when you can be civil.”

  The Queen gasped. “Me?”

  Lizbeth didn’t turn and look at Adan’s reaction even though she was dying to. Instead, she grasped the knob on the still closed door and opened it. The last words she heard as the door clicked shut behind her were, “Yes, you, and I wouldn’t blame my wife for a moment if she did turn you into a toad.”

  Etiquette had not only been breached today, it had been completely shattered, and Lizbeth smiled.

  ****

  “Well, that certainly didn’t go very smoothly, did it?” Adan stared at his silent wife, trying to understand. “I’d be the first to admit that Mother can be trying, very trying, but, threatening to turn her into a toad, really, Lizbeth? And what about our agreement? I specifically asked you not to mention Spiritmasters or magic, and you did both.”

  Still she remained silent and refused to meet his eyes.

  Adan’s frustration bubbled over. For as long as they’d been wed, he’d had an inkling she was holding something back from him. But he had no clue what it could be.

  When she was in his arms and they were making love, she was the most responsive woman he’d ever held and she gave freely and completely of herself. But in the light of day, when they were face to face, discussing day-to-day issues, there was something…not quite right. Something he couldn’t put his finger on. Something she was hiding. Some secret she wasn’t willing to trust him with.

  Could whatever she wasn’t willing to discuss have anything to do with the obvious animosity between her and his mother? Surly not. In Lizbeth’s entire life, she and the queen had spent hardly more than the matter of a week or two every so often in each other’s presence.