by Amy Alward
For Lofty – one day, every day
CHAPTER ONE
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63,341 readers; 740 here now
7506 posts; 51 new since last visit
[STICKY POST] AlchemyRox21 asks: What is the greatest KEMI accomplishment? Please be prepared to back up with historical evidence.
563 replies
[Most recent] Conspirator2561 says: I get all your points but I still don’t think we can dismiss Cleo Kemi outright. Her journal might be missing but primary sources from that time confirm she has a strong history of innovating potions.
[STICKY POST] OrdinaryRelicHunter asks: Does SAM KEMI have a Royal Commission? Could there be more to her friendship with the Princess . . .
398 replies
[Most recent] PixiDust3 says: Whether she’s getting help or not, don’t we feel like the Princess should be married by now? Any sympathy I had for her following the last Wilde Hunt is evaporating the longer she willingly keeps the country in danger.
[NEW POST] KemiObsessed88 says: SAM KEMI to appear on Good Morning Kingstown at 08:00, alongside Princess Evelyn and Zain Aster. Don’t miss it!
[NEW POST] OrdinaryRelicHunter says: BREAKING NEWS. A source in Zambi has claimed that Emilia Thoth has escaped from her holding cell while awaiting trial. (Mods, feel free to move or delete this if it is irrelevant.)
CHAPTER TWO
Samantha
‘READY?’ PRINCESS EVELYN SQUEEZES MY hand as she leads me out of the make-up room and towards the studio. The set-up is a cosy living room: two pale pink, crushed-velvet sofas are angled slightly towards each other, a low mahogany coffee table in front of them, all perched on top of a richly knotted oriental carpet. If it weren’t for the array of cameras facing the sofas and the bright lights, I could have been round for tea at someone’s house. A very rich person’s house.
Evelyn’s hand slips from mine as she extends it towards the presenter who comes forward to greet us. I wipe my sweating palms on my cotton dress. I wish I’d been allowed to wear my jeans.
Chamomile and valerian tea – a calming potion to relax the nerves, boost confidence and soothe anxiety.
My second wish? That I could run home and take some calming potion now, but it’s too late for that.
The presenter turns to me, and I swear her eyes have actually morphed into stars after her close encounter with the Princess. She looks dazed as she focuses on me, but maybe it’s me who is not seeing straight – I can’t believe that I’m actually meeting the people I’ve watched almost every weekday since I can remember. Their morning cast has become part of our daily routine, as comforting as a cup of coffee and a bowl of honey-nut cereal. Except now they want to interview me. Well, me, Princess Evelyn and Zain. I picture my family all squished around our kitchen table, angling for the best view of the television. It’s pretty surreal.
‘So nice to finally meet you, Sam!’ says the female presenter. Up close, she has the bounciest blonde hair and the whitest teeth I have ever seen.
‘Thanks for having me, Ms Carter,’ I reply, trying my hardest to calm my shaking fingers.
‘Call me Annie! How are you feeling? Any nerves?’
‘Maybe a few . . .’ I say, but I’m interrupted by the male presenter, Mike Evans. My first impression is surprise: he is so much shorter in real life than he looks onscreen. I tower over him by a good head-and-neck.
‘Nervous? This girl, who faced down enemies of our country and came out a winner?’ He claps me on the shoulder. ‘Impossible.’
Someone behind us calls out ‘thirty seconds’ and there’s a mad rush as we all get into place. I’m sandwiched onto one sofa between Evelyn and Zain, while the presenters take up their position opposite us.
‘Remember,’ Evelyn leans over and whispers to me, ‘focus on the presenters, not the cameras. This is just a normal conversation. Act natural. And cross your legs at the ankle, not the knee.’ I adjust my legs, and before I know it I hear ‘Three . . . two . . .’ and Mike turns to the nearest camera and begins his introduction.
‘Princess Evelyn hit the headlines this year when she fell gravely ill, initiating the first Wilde Hunt in Nova for over fifty years. After a nail-biting and often dangerous search for the cure, the Hunt was won by young Samantha Kemi, an apprentice alchemist from right here in Kingstown. The two of them join us now, alongside Zain Aster, who was runner-up in the Hunt along with his father, Zol Aster, CEO of ZoroAster Corp. Now, your Highness, first of all, how are you feeling?’
‘I’m pleased to say that I’m one hundred per cent better, thanks to my friend Sam,’ Princess Evelyn says, angling her head towards me. She sits with natural grace on the sofa, her head held high. I straighten my spine in response, trying not to slouch. The muscles in my back and shoulders twinge. My normal position is hunched over a mixing bowl – or maybe my laptop – not rod-straight in front of a television camera.
As Evelyn and the two presenters continue to chat, my eyes dart around the studio. The lights shining down onto the sofa are so bright, I can’t see much beyond the cameras without squinting. Except I know that scrunching my face up live on national TV is probably not the best way to present myself. I try a more neutral expression.
I feel a small but purposeful pressure on my big toe and I frown – but then I catch Annie Carter’s eye. She’s looking at me expectantly, like she’s waiting for something from me.
My brain kicks into gear. A question! She asked me something . . . but I can’t quite remember what. Why haven’t I been paying attention? Nice work, Sam, you’re about to embarrass yourself on national television.
‘She’s better at mixing potions than answering questions,’ Zain quips, taking the attention away from me. It gives me enough time for the question to pop into my consciousness. So, Sam, what are you going to do with the prize money?
‘Oh, wow!’ I say, with a laugh. I hate how forced I sound, but everyone is smiling at me in encouragement. I take a deep breath. ‘A lot of it has gone into our family store, Kemi’s Potion Shop, and some has been tucked away for me and my sister’s education and my parents’ retirement . . .’
Mike laughs. ‘It’s all so serious! Come on, tell me something you’ve bought that’s a bit more fun.’ He leans in as if we’re co-conspirators and I’m about to share a secret with him. A secret that millions of people will hear.
I frown as I try to think of something wild that I did with my money. I’m not really that ‘wild’, ironically enough. If I had my way, I’d have spent all the money on books. ‘Well, I am going to buy a ridiculously expensive dress for a ball—’
‘Not just any ball,’ interjects Evelyn. ‘Sam is going to join me on my Royal Tour and part of that involves the annual Laville Ball in Pays – only the biggest party of the year!’
‘That sounds so glamorous!’ coos Annie. ‘So I take it you three will remain friends after the noise about the Wilde Hunt dies down?’
‘Of course, we’ll always be friends,’ Zain says. ‘An experience like the Wilde Hunt changes you. You can’t go through something like that without coming out so much stronger on the other side.’ He puts his hand ov
er mine and I feel the blood rush to my face.
‘I think two of you are a little more than friends,’ says Mike with an exaggerated wink.
I can’t even imagine what shade of red I am at the moment. Beetroot, most likely.
‘Apart from the prize money, it looks like you won a new boyfriend and a best friend in the Princess,’ Annie says with a laugh. ‘What else would you say you gained from the Hunt, Sam?’
I pause for a moment. An answer springs to my mind but I don’t know if I should say it. But when else am I going to get this kind of opportunity? I wriggle in my seat and talk before I can change my mind.
‘Well, Annie, I gained a lot of respect for how amazing ordinary people can be. Growing up without any magic, I always thought there was a limit to what ordinaries could do, compared to Talenteds, but I don’t believe that’s true any more. Take my great-grandmother. I had no idea that she was the first woman to scale Mount Hallah until I saw her picture there.’
‘That is impressive,’ says Annie, her eyebrows waggling. She is Talented – she can channel magic – but she doesn’t look offended by my statement. ‘Did your family not tell you about that?’
I shrug. ‘They didn’t know either. Even though, at the time, she was the world’s greatest alchemist, a lot about my great-grandmother’s life is a mystery.’
‘But it’s not a mystery that she lost her Wilde Hunt, right?’ Mike says, with a sly smile.
I nod once, briefly, clamping my lips shut. It’s not a part of history that my family enjoy reliving, and I instantly regret giving him cause to bring it up.
Mike continues, ‘Well, since Zoro Aster won that particular Wilde Hunt, wouldn’t that make him a greater alchemist than her?’
Now my face feels heated again, but this time it has nothing to do with embarrassment. ‘My grandfather says she created the most powerful potion ever made! If she hadn’t lost her diary the world would be a completely different place.’
‘I’m sure that’s right,’ says Mike, not hiding the scepticism in his voice. ‘Zain, wasn’t it by winning the Wilde Hunt over the Kemis that your family could launch ZoroAster Corp?’ Evelyn jumps in, ever the diplomat. ‘From rivals to friends – amazing what can change over the course of a few generations!’
A bright red light flashes above the camera, saving me from further outbursts I know I would regret. It’s the presenters’ cue to wrap up for a commercial break.
Naturally, they turn their attention to the Princess to close out their segment. She’s magnetic in her pale yellow dress, her perfect blonde curls dipped at the ends with a bright gold glamour. It’s a new style and the media have gone crazy for it. ‘Are you looking forward to your Royal Tour, Princess?’ asks Mike.
‘I can’t wait. And with my two best friends by my side . . . I couldn’t ask for anything more.’
‘All the best wishes for safe travels,’ Annie chimes in. ‘And better luck finding your true love this time around.’
‘Now, over to Helen for today’s local weather and traffic news . . .’
CHAPTER THREE
Samantha
‘DID THAT REALLY JUST HAPPEN?’ I say, before letting out a huge groan.
We’re ushered straight from the living-room set and into the green room. I hadn’t been in the green room yet, as I arrived late and was rushed through to have my make-up done. Even my best attempt at eyeliner isn’t good enough for a national newscast.
Now we’re safely ensconced in the room (which isn’t even green, I’m disappointed to note), Zain pulls me into a kiss. ‘You were great,’ he says.
‘No, I wasn’t.’
‘Hey, at least you made it! When you weren’t here by seven I thought you weren’t going to show,’ he says, his face still close to mine. Then he slumps onto a bright red sofa, dragging me down with him.
‘I overslept. There was an emergency at the store last night,’ I say with a shrug. ‘Someone came in needing an urgent mix for this morning and Grandad and I were up all night working on it.’
‘Are you okay, Sam?’ Evelyn asks, waving away her assistant. She shuts the door behind her so that the three of us are alone.
‘I think I just brought a whole bunch of ancient Kemi history back into the light, only for it to be dragged straight through the mud again. The forums are going to go nuts for this.’
Evelyn frowns. ‘I don’t think it was that bad . . .’
The tone of her voice doesn’t do anything to reassure me. ‘Remind me not to do live television again,’ I say. My stomach shifts uncomfortably, and I can’t help this niggling feeling in the back of my mind like I’ve just betrayed a huge Kemi family secret. It’s the feeling I get when I realise I’ve forgotten to do an important task for Grandad and I’m about to get a big telling off when I get home. I’ll have to watch the interview back when I get a chance. If I can get through it without cringing
‘Well, no need to worry about that as this was your last publicity commitment for the Wilde Hunt!’ Evelyn high-fives me and then Zain. It’s been a whirlwind of press and interviews and photoshoots since the Hunt ended. It maybe would have been all right if it was just Nova that was interested, but the story seems to have captured the world’s imagination – not just our country’s. It’s not a life I’m used to at all. The only time I’ve ever sustained this level of scrutiny is when my best friend Anita used to grill me about boys. More specifically, about Zain. I’m glad it’s the summer holidays. I hope when I get back to school in a month, everything will have calmed down and I can live my normal, boring life again.
‘Please tell me you’re ready for the tour, Sam?’ Evelyn stands with her back to the door. I can see that someone has thrown a jacket over the only mirror in the room. The Princess still can’t stand to look at herself, not since she accidentally took the love potion that made her fall in love with her own reflection and instigated the Wilde Hunt.
‘Err . . .’
‘Sam!’ she says, exasperation tinging her voice.
‘What, I still have a week! Besides, I’ve been busy . . . We’ve been busy,’ I add hastily, throwing a look at Zain. He rolls his eyes at me but I can see there’s a little smile pulling at the edges of his lips: he’s not mad at me for implicating him too. He picks up my backpack and passes it to me. I reach inside and pull out a large map, spreading it out over my knees. ‘I’ve been doing some research and we’ve narrowed down a possible source of the more potent yellow ark flower not far from Kingstown. While you’re preparing for your Princess-y duties, Zain and I will hunt down the ingredient.’
‘And that should help?’ she asks.
‘Without a doubt,’ Zain says. ‘Sam’s research shows that it’s the best alternative in the synth or natural world to use to boost the formula.’
I shoot Evelyn a sharp look. ‘How long does one dose last at the moment?’
She turns away from me and swallows. ‘I had to wake up in the middle of the night last night for another.’
‘In the night?’ I look over at Zain, who’s doing a quick calculation on his fingers. But I do this sort of maths all the time for Grandad’s clients at the store. ‘So we’re down to less than forty-eight hours a dose.’ I stand up and grab Evelyn’s hands. It’s then that I realise she’s shaking. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll make it stronger.’
I hope that what I’m saying is true. The potion we’re trying to mix is as unique as the person we’re making it for – so original it doesn’t even have a name yet – although to call it a challenge would be putting it mildly. Princess Evelyn, with Royal blood running through her veins, is an immensely powerful Talented – so powerful she doesn’t need an object, like a wand or a pair of gloves, to control her magic. Using magic comes as naturally to her as breathing. However, since she turned eighteen, her magic has grown so powerful it threatens to overwhelm her. Our potion helps her control it – but the traditional solution is marriage, so that she can share her magic with her partner. According to Novaen laws, ancient as they migh
t seem, she needs to find a husband – and soon.
She nods. ‘I know you will.’ She lifts her hands from mine and looks down at a delicate rose-gold watch on her wrist. ‘I have to head back to the Palace now . . .’
Zain raises an eyebrow. ‘Really? I thought you’d be staying in the city longer.’ He turns to me to explain. ‘Normally whenever they let Evie out of the Palace you have to drag her back. Palace or prison – right, Evie?’
She smiles weakly. ‘Palace or prison, exactly. I don’t want to have one of my episodes while I’m down here. And besides . . .’ Her voice trails off but a blush rises in her cheeks.
It’s unusual to see Evelyn anything other than perfectly composed. ‘Okay, Evie. Spill,’ I say.
‘They haven’t reinstalled the mirrors in your room again, have they?’ Zain says. I hit him on the arm as I sit back down, and Evelyn’s dreamy gaze turns into a glare.
‘Very funny. No, if you must know . . . I’ve met someone. Or, I should say, I knew someone, but then I saw them in a different light.’ Her blush grows deeper as she speaks.
‘That’s so cool, Evie! Anyone we know?’ I ask. I’m not really big on gossip, but even the hint of a crush for the Princess is too exciting not to care about.
‘Problem solved then, you can marry him!’ says Zain. ‘Ow!’ He glares at me as I hit him in the arm again. ‘What? If she’s found someone she likes then what’s the big deal? Better than marrying some bozo Prince from the back end of nowhere.’
‘Liking someone is not the same as loving them. She doesn’t have to marry someone just because she has a crush on them. This isn’t the middle ages. What if they turn out to be a jerk?’
Evelyn laughs. ‘Thanks, Sam, my mighty defender. But Zain’s right in a way. If they were suitable, I probably would just marry them. But alas, they’re ordinary.’
‘Oh,’ say Zain and I simultaneously.
‘So some kind of bozo Royal it will have to be,’ she says wistfully.