Once the snow began to fall, it didn’t stop. For three sennights, flurries of ice and slush cascaded down from the skies, burying Silver City under a catastrophic amount of dense, wet snow. Business in the city came to a grinding halt. The streets were impassible by horse or cart and most of the residents opted to stay inside, venturing into the weather only if the need was dire.
On the academy grounds, Gib’s physical training class had to be moved inside. Even Weapons Master Roland admitted defeat and took the students out of the cold when they found themselves waddling around in waist deep snow. Gib’s hand was on the mend, but he still hadn’t been given permission from the healers to rejoin the class, so most of his time was occupied by cleaning armor, patching clothing, and doing other menial tasks that the sentinel trainee had become quite adept at performing over the past two moonturns.
His mind was likewise unable to remain idle. Damn Nawaz Arrio and his antics. If not for the stunt he’d pulled at the Rose Bouquet, Gib may have never realized his feelings and then none of this awkward business with Joel would have happened. Gib didn’t know how or when, but he was determined to have it out with Nawaz the next time they met in private.
For his part, Joel made himself scarce again. They hadn’t ever finished the conversation started on the night Gib returned from the Rose Bouquet. Gib wondered if Joel was really as busy as he said he was, or if he was purposely avoiding his roommate.
Another conversation still weighed heavily on Gib’s mind as well—the one he’d heard between the two men plotting to kill King Rishi. Joel and Hasain seemed to have forgotten about the incident, but Gib found himself lingering in empty corridors, standing beside partially ajar doorways, listening for those terrible voices speaking of such unspeakable treason. But he heard nothing. He saw nothing. And eventually, Gib ceased trying to locate the would-be assassin. Perhaps Joel and Hasain had been right after all. Maybe it had just been an idle threat and nothing would ever come of it.
The snowstorm itself was a growing cause of concern, grating on Gib’s frayed nerves. Every day it continued to snow was another day the roads couldn’t be cleared. He planned to ride home with Liza over the Midwinter Festival to visit Tayver and Calisto, but now the journey would possibly be too dangerous to make. They hadn’t seen their brothers in three moonturns, and this was the only chance to check in on them before Academy went on summer recess—four lunar cycles away. He couldn’t wait that long to see them. He didn’t even know how they were doing. Did they have enough food to make it through the winter? Were they starving to death? What if the roof collapsed? Or the cottage caught fire? A million different things could go wrong and Gib was not there to save them. Despair dragged him down and though Liza offered words of comfort, he felt helpless.
Gib was close to having a nervous breakdown by the time he returned to his room one evening, three days before the Midwinter Festival was set to begin. Everywhere he’d gone that day, students were talking about how happy they would be to go home for the festival. They gushed about being able to see their families and loved ones and about sleeping in their own beds. Gib wanted to cry. Traveling to Willowdale was a three-day journey under normal circumstances. He wouldn’t be able to make the trek through three feet of snow.
Gib flopped down onto his bed miserably. He’d worked himself up so much his temples were throbbing.
“What’s wrong?” Joel asked from his place at the writing desk.
Gib threw his hands into the air. “It’s the snow! I’m not going to be able to travel home for Midwinter!”
The mage trainee grimaced. “I’m sorry. But it’s true. The roads are far too dangerous for travel.”
“I’m aware.”
Joel shifted in his chair. “I’m sure your brothers will be all right, especially if they’re as resourceful as you.”
“I just miss them. It’s my job to worry about their welfare.” Gib reached up and began to massage his forehead. Damn this headache. “Not to mention all of the city-born students are going home to their families while I’ll be stuck here, eating cold porridge three times a day and lamenting about the farm and everything else I have no control over.”
Joel didn’t immediately respond. Finally, the mage trainee got up and sat on the edge of Gib’s bed, by his feet. “Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t you come home with me? For the Midwinter Festival.”
Gib was taken aback. He hadn’t been expecting the other boy to suggest that. “Oh, I–I don’t know—”
“I’ve told Mother all about you. She wants to meet you.”
Gib blushed as he sat up. “Your mother does? Why?” He wrung his hands together. “I don’t know—I wouldn’t want to be in the way, and I’d be an extra mouth to have to feed.”
Joel laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You wouldn’t be either of those things. Trust me when I say my family always prepares far too much food for our Midwinter feast. I don’t think there has been a year when the servants weren’t sent out into the streets afterwards to give the homeless our gluttonous leftovers.”
“Your father is Seneschal Koal. I don’t think he would allow a common urchin like me to dine at the same table.”
“You presume to know very much about a man you’ve never spoken to,” Joel replied with a snort. “Father wouldn’t mind.”
Gib’s face flushed even more as he searched for another excuse. “Liro. Your brother hates me.”
Joel set a steady hand onto the sentinel trainee’s shoulder. “It’s entirely possible Liro won’t partake in the feast. He hasn’t been inclined to show up for family dinners as of late.” He tightened his grip, squeezing Gib’s arm gently. “Please come. I know my sisters and mother will adore you as much as I do.”
“Adore?”
“I–I mean—admire. I admire you—your—I admire your courage.” Joel dropped his hand to his side and looked away.
Gib was almost positive he saw a light shade of pink come to the mage trainee’s cheeks. Joel’s eloquence had abandoned him in that moment, which was uncommon for a person normally so well composed.
Gib spared his roommate the embarrassment and consented. “All right. I’ll go with you.”
Joel nodded and then said in a stiff voice, “I’ll send word to Mother.” He still couldn’t look Gib in the eye.
Two mornings later, Gib found himself standing before the Adelwijn estate. The bitter wind cut through cloak, tunic, and skin as Gib stood in front of the wrought iron gate surrounding the perimeter of the property and waited for it to be opened. He shivered as a wet drop of snow found its way beneath his clothing and left a frigid trail down the back of his neck. He couldn’t feel his toes—the slush had soaked into his boots almost as soon as he’d set foot outside—and his fingertips were in danger of suffering the same fate despite the leather gloves wrapped around his hands.
“Daya, Joel,” Gib gasped. “I’m going to be an icicle soon if we don’t get out of this weather.”
Joel was fumbling with the latch. “Sorry, it’s iced over.” A moment later, the hinges groaned in protest and both of the boys pushed the gate open.
They entered the courtyard. Gib imagined during the summer, the space would be lush and filled with beautiful flora. But there was nothing except more snow now. Joel led him toward a towering door at the far end of the courtyard.
“Almost there,” the mage trainee promised.
Gib gritted his teeth but elected not to respond. All his focus was on setting one frozen foot in front of the other. At least someone had taken the liberty of clearing a pathway inside the courtyard. He thought to ask about it, but they had already approached the door and his roommate was reaching for the brass handle. Gib swallowed nervously. Even the door, etched with beautiful carvings and fanciful paint, screamed of the wealth this noble family possessed. What am I doing here? Who am I fooling? I’m common-born and they’re all going to hate me for it.
He thought to bolt, to go running back through the streets, all the way to hi
s cold, empty room within the dormitory, but Joel opened the door and turned to grace him with another shy smile. “Come on. Let’s get out of the cold.” The mage trainee’s voice was as smooth as silk.
Gib felt his heart quicken. I can do this for him. Joel wants me to be here, even if his family discards me as unworthy. He managed to nod. “Gladly.”
Warmth hit his skin as soon as he stepped through the threshold, and before Gib could think to remove his cloak, a pair of servants was by his side, stripping him of the heavy furs. He gawked in awe, but Joel seemed nonchalant and greeted the pair warmly. “Hello, Otos, Tabitha.”
The man, a wiry, middle-aged fellow with hair the color of straw and brown eyes, gave a small bow as he took Joel’s cloak into his arms. “Welcome home, m’lord.”
“Lady Mrifa is awaiting you,” said the young girl, who couldn’t have been much older than Gib. She was dressed in a simple frock made of cotton, and her dark curls were pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck.
Joel gave them another warm smile. “Thank you both. I shan’t keep Mother waiting then.” He motioned for Gib to follow, and the two boys left the servants behind.
They made their way down a long hall. The ceilings were not as tall or as grand as those in the academy building, but this was undoubtedly a home suitable for nobility. Portraits lined the walls, illuminated by lanterns, the light casting an eerie glow across the paintings. The hair on the back of Gib’s neck rose. All those faces seemed to be staring at him, judging him. And rightfully so. What the hell am I doing here?
Joel cleared his throat. “Mother insists on keeping the portraits despite the wishes of my father.” The mage trainee smiled, turning to look directly at Gib. “Don’t worry, I think they’re uncanny too.”
Gib barked a nervous laugh. “Yeah.”
They came to an archway at the end of the corridor which opened up into a magnificent sitting room. The space was filled with plush, velvety furniture, and the largest rug Gib had ever seen before was laid down onto the white granite floor like a blanket. Tapestries clung to the walls and an immense pane of glass served as a window to overlook the courtyard outside. A roaring fireplace provided warmth to the area, but Gib hardly had time to see any of it before one woman and two girls about Gib’s age entered the room from a separate hallway. The youngest adolescent squealed with excitement at the sight of them but was disciplined enough not to run forward.
“Gib, I’d like you to meet my mother, Lady Mrifa,” Joel said, never missing a beat. His blue eyes flashed toward his family. “Mother, this is my roommate, Gibben Nemesio.” Joel placed a hand onto Gib’s shoulder.
Lady Mrifa came forward at once. A petite woman, she had the same mesmerizing blue eyes as her son but her locks were golden as opposed to Joel’s dark hair. She wore a flowing ivory gown made of fine silk and had an intricately woven shawl wrapped around her shoulders to ward off the cold. Her oval face was adorned with powder, and jewels hung from her ears and neck. A delicate nose gave way to full, cherry-colored lips that were pulled upward into a welcoming smile.
“It is a delight to finally meet you, Gibben,” Mrifa spoke at once. Her voice was as eloquent as any noble’s but without the haughtiness commonly associated with such rank.
Gib gave a little bow. “Joel has told me so much about you, Lady—” He let out a startled gasp when Mrifa advanced on him without warning. She embraced the sentinel trainee around the shoulders like any mother might do to her own child.
Mrifa planted a kiss on his reddened cheek. “Welcome to our estate. Please make yourself at home.” Before Gib could even think to respond to that, Mrifa turned and ushered the two girls forward. Both of them shared Mrifa’s golden hair and blue eyes. “These are my daughters, Joel’s sisters, Heidi and Carmen.”
The girls introduced themselves, and Gib gave them each a gracious nod in return. He even managed to find his own voice. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He looked back at Joel, who gave him a smile of encouragement. Gib was surprised how easy it was to converse with Joel’s family. “Joel has spoken of all of you many times, but I’m afraid he failed to mention just how lovely you were.”
Heidi and Carmen both giggled and Lady Mrifa clapped her hands together. “Well, Joel failed to mention your charm to us, Gibben,” she replied in a flattered, pleased tone. She winked at her son, lowering her voice a pitch. “Nor did he warn us of how handsome you are.”
A deep blush rose to Joel’s cheeks. “Mother!”
Mrifa laughed as she put an arm around her son’s back. “Why don’t you show Gibben around the house before midday meal? Tabitha is preparing a stew for all of us.” She hesitated before pressing gently, “Shall I also have the servants prepare one of the guest suites for your friend?”
Joel floundered, but Gib was fortunate enough to still be in control of his own voice. “Oh, you don’t need to go through that trouble, Lady Mrifa. I’m perfectly content to sleep on a mat in Joel’s room. We’ve shared a room at Academy for three moonturns now, after all.”
“Are you certain?” Mrifa asked in a measured voice. “Surely you would enjoy some privacy.”
Gib nodded his head adamantly. “Lady, truly, it is fine. In fact, I dare say I would be lonesome if I were to have a room all to myself. I shared a bedroom with two brothers until the day I moved into the dormitory with Joel. I think I would lose sleep if I were to suddenly be alone for the first time in my life.”
“Very well,” replied Mrifa. She smiled. “I’ll have a cot and some blankets brought up to Joel’s room for you.”
Gib’s eyelids fluttered open, his body bathed in heat as he lay upon the cot the family servant, Otos, set up for him the previous night. Sunlight poured in through the glass pane above his head, but it was hard to judge the time. Well past sunrise, at the very least, Gib wagered. At Academy, the sentinel trainee had always risen at dawn, just as the first traces of warm golden hues had begun to appear in the sky, but in this dreamscape world of marbled hallways and beautiful stained glass, it was easy to ignore the passage of time. No chores needed to be done or lessons learned. Gib wondered how the nobility ever found the motivation to leave the comfort of their own beds with so little responsibility in their lives. He pulled the quilted blanket Lady Mrifa insisted he use closer to his chin and turned onto his side.
Across the room, Joel slept peacefully, his slender body wrapped in blankets and dark hair wild and tussled. His mouth was set in a smile, as though he might be enjoying a dream. Gib couldn’t help but smile too. Something about Joel Adelwijn caused Gib’s pulse to quicken every time he laid eyes upon his roommate. Although Gib didn’t understand these awakening feelings for his friend, he didn’t want to suppress them. I want to tell him. But I also don’t want things to become strange between us. I’ve finally managed to get him to open up to me a little. Chhaya’s Bane, I can’t ruin that now.
Gib was unsuccessful at holding back a yawn. Despite his restful slumber, the whirlwind of events from the day before had drained him. After introductions, he’d been taken on a tour of the entire Adelwijn estate. From the grand dining room to the private study and even the solar room on the second floor, a dazzling space where the roof had been replaced by glass and the flooring was a tiled mosaic masterpiece, he’d seen it all. Gib had been awestruck. If the academy building was magnificent, then the Adelwijn estate might well have been built for royalty. Never before had Gib been inside such an extravagant, beautiful home. I still can’t believe I’m here. This sleeping chamber alone is nearly bigger than the entire farmhouse and worth ten times it. He yawned again, louder this time.
The sound caused Joel to rouse. The mage trainee let out a placid sigh as he turned onto his side. For a moment he remained still, but then he blinked twice and opened his blue eyes. His gaze landed on Gib almost immediately, and the sentinel trainee found himself blushing as he was regarded in silence through thick, dark lashes.
“Good morning,” Gib called out, running a hand through his un
ruly curls in an attempt to flatten them.
Joel brought a hand to his mouth as he yawned. “Likewise. Did you sleep well?”
“Better than I have in a long time,” Gib replied. “I don’t want to get out of bed. It’s so comfortable.”
The older boy chuckled as he stretched his arms into the air. “Well, that’s not an option, Gibben, unless you would like to skip your morning meal. Tabitha only serves breakfast until the seventh bell toll of the day. After that, you’re on your own until dinner.”
Gib groaned. “I don’t think I can wait that long for a meal.” As he rolled the blankets down the length of his legs and to his feet, Gib’s stomach rumbled.
“Mother’s rules.” Joel stretched as he turned down the sheets on his own bed. “She has always roused my siblings and me early, even on days of rest. She says it makes us more responsible.” The older boy cleared his throat, regarding Gib from the corner of his eye. “Thank you, by the way.”
Gib turned. “What do you mean?”
“For coming home with me this week.”
“Are you joking? I should be thanking you,” Gib remarked with a snort.
Joel’s face remained solemn. “I mean it, Gib. You’re one of the only friends I have. It’s been nice to spend more time with you.” A fleeting smile passed over his lips. “And it will be nice to not have to face my eccentric family alone tomorrow during the feast.”
Gib choked a nervous laugh. “Right. Bring the bumbling farm boy along to divert the attention away from you. You’re so clever.”
The mage trainee’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Fortunately, there is still a day of leisure before the feast. I was thinking perhaps we could go out on the town this morning. Despite the snow, Midwinter Festival is still in full swing. There is much to see. Is that something you’d be interested in doing?”
“You mean the nobility actually spend time outside during the winter?” Gib asked in mock jest.
A Call to Arms: Book One of the Chronicles of Arden Page 15