Wedding Hells (Schooled in Magic Book 8)

by Christopher Nuttall

  “That’s what he said,” Emily told her. “He came to check on you...”

  “Must have had a monitoring spell on the room,” Alassa interrupted her. She sounded annoyed with herself. “He wouldn’t want me to choke on my own vomit.”

  Emily shuddered. Her mother had come alarmingly close to doing that more than once. But it wasn’t something she wanted to talk about. Her childhood on Earth seemed like more and more of a dream with every passing day.

  “Drink is bad for you,” Emily said, instead. “It’s a very useful lesson.”

  Alassa gave her an odd look. “And yet they teach us how to help drinkers cope with their drinking,” she said. She ran her hand through her sweaty hair. “There’s a contradiction, isn’t there?”

  “I don’t know,” Emily said. “Perhaps we’re not the ones who are meant to be drinking.”

  She looked down at her hands. The mountainfolk in the Cairngorms had drunk heavily to numb the pain of a bleak existence. She was surprised, coming to think of it, that Frieda had keeled over so quickly. She’d have been given alcohol from a very early age. But then, she had been the runt of the family and she’d spent three years at two different schools of magic, where alcohol was banned. And she’d probably been used to drinking beer rather than very strong wine.

  “Never mind,” Alassa said.

  She strode over to the door, opened it and shouted for a maid. When one arrived - a terrified-looking young girl who couldn’t have been any older than fourteen - she ordered breakfast for two, with plenty of water and fruit juice. The maid curtseyed and hastily backed out of the room. Emily watched her go, unsure why she was so terrified. She couldn’t have been working in the palace while Alassa had been a right royal brat...

  They knew Alassa was going to be drinking, Emily thought, as the door closed behind the maid. The bastards dumped the task of tending to the princess on a young girl who couldn’t fight back.

  “I feel parched,” Alassa declared loudly, as she stripped off her dress and headed for the washroom. “Is that normal?”

  “Yes,” Emily said, curtly.

  Alassa stopped and turned to look at her. “You don’t like drinking?”

  “No,” Emily said. She really didn’t want to talk about her mother. “It’s...dangerous.”

  “I know,” Alassa said. She peered down at the empty bottles, her expression darkening. “I was never allowed to drink, you know. Everything else...I could have it...but not alcohol.”

  “Your father said as much,” Emily told her. “He wasn’t wrong.”

  Alassa frowned. “Really?”

  Emily nodded. “Lady Barb told us about addiction,” she reminded Alassa. “Most addictions don’t start at once, no matter what you do. But if you get accustomed to drinking every day, you’ll soon find you can’t live without it.”

  My mother certainly couldn’t, she added, silently. Every time she told herself she’d stop, she started again within the week.

  “You’re going to be Queen,” she said, after a moment. “You can’t afford to have anything clouding your thoughts.”

  Alassa nodded and walked into the bathroom. Emily sighed and settled back on the cushions to wait. When the maid - and a couple of others - arrived with breakfast, she told them to put it on the table and leave it there. The young girl gave her a nervous look as she obeyed, clearly new to the castle. Her older helpmates kept their faces blank at all times. Emily wondered, darkly, just how many of them had seen the leaflets being passed around the city and if they believed what the rebels were saying. They had good reason to know the aristocracy was still human.

  The door had barely closed when Alassa emerged, wrapping a towel around herself. “There’s more water, if you want it,” she said, as she picked up a jug of juice and poured herself a glass. It took Emily a moment to realize she was talking about the bath. “You’ll have to filter it...”

  Emily shook her head. No one in the castle would bat an eyelid at the thought of sharing bathwater, but she thought it was appalling even if she could use spells to filter out anything other than pure water. She’d go back to her rooms in a moment, bathe properly and then go find Caleb. If Alassa had managed to drink herself senseless, God alone knew what Jade had done. Emily had a sudden horrified vision of a dozen noblemen turned into frogs - or worse - before she realized it wasn’t too likely. Randor wouldn’t have been in anything like as good a mood if all hell had broken loose.

  The maids had clearly known what to expect, she thought, as they started to eat. They normally served a greasy breakfast of bacon, fried meats and eggs; now, they had supplied porridge, bread and scrambled eggs. It would be better for an upset stomach, she thought; her mother had never eaten sensibly after drinking heavily and paid the price. Alassa ate ravenously while Emily picked at the food, not feeling particularly hungry. She’d known Randor - and Alassa - had a hard core of demonstrated ruthlessness, but she’d never thought he’d deliberately allow his daughter to drink herself senseless.

  And yet, it was a valuable lesson, she thought, sourly. She’d sat at the High Table and watched as younger noblemen competed to see how much they could drink. Alassa would have seen that from birth. She now understands the dangers of getting drunk on a primal level.

  “I don’t actually have anything planned for me for today,” Alassa said. “My father must have anticipated me wanting to spend the whole day in bed.”

  “Probably a good idea,” Emily said. She tried to recall the timetable and frowned. “You have a second private party tomorrow night, and the ceremony starts two days after that.”

  “I won’t be getting drunk,” Alassa said, firmly. She gave Emily a wink. “Maybe we should sneak out of the castle for the night. Go find an inn and see what really happens there.”

  Emily shook her head. “I wouldn’t suggest it even if the city wasn’t in a state of unrest,” she said, firmly. “Do you have any idea just how much trouble you could get into?”

  Alassa smiled, brightly. “That’s what I want to find out.”

  “You could be kidnapped,” Emily said, tersely. “There are plenty of barons in the kingdom who’d love to have your father over a barrel - and they would, if they captured you. One of them might even force you into marriage just so they had a claim on the kingdom.”

  “I wouldn’t marry them,” Alassa said.

  “You know as well as I do there are plenty of ways to force consent from someone,” Emily snapped. “And there are ways to dim magic for a while. As long as they kept you on the potion, you’d be helpless. You know this.”

  Emily shuddered. “You’d be a puppet, at best. And that isn’t even the worst that could happen to you.”

  Alassa scowled. “Really?”

  “Remember the field trip we took to Dragon’s Den with Lady Barb?” Emily asked. Imaiqah had told her that it wasn’t safe for young ladies at night, not in the city. Even a magician would have to be recognized as a magician before the criminals backed off. “Remember the girls we saw who came to the clinic? That could happen to you if you’re mistaken for a commoner - or a prostitute.”

  And perhaps that was the other lesson King Randor wanted her to learn, she thought, privately. That there are times when she could lose control - and when she does, it could prove fatal.

  She shook her head, firmly. “Have a quiet night in, just us girls,” she urged. “It won’t be the same after you’re married, so we may as well spend the night together. Invite some others if you wish.”

  Alassa scowled. “I can invite Alicia, I suppose. Frieda was insistent that she wants to talk to you. Maybe we can contrive an opportunity for you to speak with her.”

  “If you wish,” Emily said. “Just...just don’t do anything stupid.”

  Alassa sighed, dramatically. “I won’t try to sneak out of the castle. But...”

  She waved a hand at the walls. “This is just a cage,” she added. “I’m as much a prisoner here as the poor unfortunates in the dungeons. I just get bette
r food and clothing.”

  “There are millions of people who would trade places with you in an eye blink,” Emily told her, dryly. “And you wouldn’t be happy if you traded places with them.”

  Alassa nodded, slowly. “You’re trapped too,” she said.

  “Maybe,” Emily said. Cockatrice was a blessing - but it was also a leash that tied her to the king. “We will see.”

  She rose. “I’m going to check on the others, then have a wash. You make sure you get plenty of sleep. Your father will probably ask questions if you look too cheerful at dinner tonight.”

  “I won’t,” Alassa said. “Luckily, I have a great deal of practice in looking good on the outside when all I want to do on the inside is lie down and die.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “I’VE FELT BETTER,” CALEB CONFESSED.

  Emily gave him a sidelong look as he stepped into her rooms. Caleb had changed into a tunic, not unlike the ones he’d worn in Whitehall when robes hadn’t been required, and looked surprisingly fresh. Emily had wondered if he’d taken a potion, but he wasn’t showing any of the signs of having swallowed something to give him some extra energy. He looked as though he’d had a good night’s sleep.

  “It wasn’t a good time, though,” Caleb added. He shook his head. “Those noblemen!”

  “They can be pains,” Emily said, sympathetically. “Do I want to know what happened?”

  “Probably not,” Caleb said. He took a breath. “We started by going to a pub on the Royal Mile. The innkeeper served us himself, which was probably a bad sign. Jade did his best to avoid drinking more than a little beer, but they kept thrusting mugs under his nose and daring him to drink. Seven or eight pints of beer later, half of them headed off to drink their way down the Royal Mile while the other half started having a go at Jade for trying to marry the princess. They said he wasn’t worthy of her hand, that he was a giant gold-digger, that he was nothing more than commoner filth.”

  Emily winced. “I was right,” she said. “I didn’t want to know.”

  Caleb nodded. “One of them, a particularly stupid idiot, challenged Jade to a duel for the hand of Princess Alassa,” he continued. “Jade, by then alarmingly drunk himself, turned him into a slug and declared victory. The idiot’s cronies then offered to bribe Jade into dumping the princess and fleeing the kingdom. I had to grab him before he could kill the closest bastard. They all thought this was a hoot - even the slug laughed when I turned him back - and kept making fun of Jade and his friends. So a giant brawl broke out in the bar...”

  “I see,” Emily said, when Caleb’s voice trailed off. “What happened then?”

  “We managed to get Jade back to the castle after the Royal Guard turned up,” Caleb said. “I think the king is not going to be pleased with some of the young fools.”

  “I don’t think he’ll do anything to them,” Emily said. Given who’d been in the bar, she was surprised the Royal Guard had done anything. Maybe Randor had given them orders to keep an eye on things. “Where’s Jade now?”

  “He was depressed,” Caleb said. “I got him into his rooms while his friends headed back to their rooms. A couple of them were talking about going back out on the town, but I don’t know if they did.”

  “Depressed,” Emily repeated. “Alassa wants him. What else matters?”

  Stupid question, she told herself, a second later. You know the Prince Consort needs to be acceptable to more than just his wife.

  “I offered to stay with him,” Caleb continued, shaking his head. “But he refused to allow me to remain in his rooms.”

  “I think I’d better go check on him,” Emily said. Imaiqah and Frieda had been fine, apart from being mildly hungover; Jade, on the other hand, might be a different story. “Do you want to come with me?”

  “Father was hoping I’d be able to inspect the musket factory this afternoon,” Caleb said, after a moment. “I could stay if you like.”

  Emily hesitated, then shook her head. “I can handle it, I think,” she said. “I’ve already had to deal with Alassa after she had far too much to drink.”

  Caleb nodded, gave her a long kiss and hurried out. Emily sealed her wards, then followed him, walking down to Jade’s quarters on the far side of the Royal Apartments. A guard stood outside, something that caused her a moment’s panic before she recalled it was intended to remind the nobility that Jade was being chaperoned before he and Alassa actually tied the knot. She smiled at the thought - there were quite a few spells Alassa could have used to sneak past the guard if she’d wished - and then stopped in front of him. The guard looked her up and down, then frowned.

  “He’s gone down to the Spellchamber, My Lady,” he said.

  Emily thanked him and hurried down the stairs to the spellchamber. It was heavily warded, suggesting Jade didn’t want company; she twanged her magic against the wards, identifying herself, and waited. There was a long pause before two of the wards unlocked themselves, allowing her to open the door and step into the chamber. Inside, Jade was tearing apart a pair of training dummies, blasting one of them with fire as the other whirled around to strike him from behind. Emily lifted her hand, readying a spell, but Jade jumped to the side and blew the second dummy into pieces. They’d been taught to hold back so the dummies could be reused, Emily recalled, but there wasn’t much hope of rebuilding that dummy.

  “Sergeant Miles would be pissed,” she said.

  “He isn’t here,” Jade snarled. Sweat dripped from his face as he turned to look at her, his eyes dark with burning rage. “And I paid for those dummies.”

  Emily frowned. There were so many pieces of debris on the floor that it was clear he’d destroyed more than one dummy.

  “I’m not just talking about the dummies,” she said, finally.

  Jade glared at her. “What are you talking about?”

  “You losing control like this,” Emily said, after a moment. “Did they really hurt your feelings?”

  “I didn’t fall in love because I wanted a throne of my own,” Jade said. He turned, picked up a towel and started to wipe the sweat from his brow. “If she wasn’t a princess, I’d still love her.”

  “Her father has accepted you,” Emily said. She wasn’t so sure about Queen Marlena, but she hadn’t been able to have a private chat with the queen. “There’s nothing that band of swaggering idiots can do about it.”

  “They can try to undermine my position,” Jade said. “Or hers, for that matter.”

  “She’s going to be queen,” Emily said, flatly. “It’s a little late to claim she’s a royal bastard.”

  “King Randor would have checked,” Jade said. He flushed as he turned back to face Emily, tossing the towel across the room into a basket. “Do you realize he sat me down for the talk?”

  Emily felt her own face heat. She knew the facts of life - she’d known them a long time before Shadye had kidnapped her - but the thought of sitting down with her future father-in-law to talk about sex was embarrassing as hell. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine General Pollack talking to her about sex. His wife would have to do it, surely. If, of course, they didn’t expect Emily to already know the facts of life. Magicians were meant to experiment, after all.

  “No,” she said. Jade had been a reasonably handsome teenager in a school where casual dating was common. She found it hard to believe he hadn’t lost his virginity a long time before Alassa had started at Whitehall. “Didn’t you already know how to do it?”

  “Not that,” Jade said. “He wanted to assure me that Alassa was actually his daughter and check that I knew how to confirm parentage. Any child we have in the future will need to be confirmed as mine and hers, even though she carried the baby to term. He even had me perform the spells on Alassa to prove she was his.”

  Emily blinked. “He wanted to confirm to you that she was his daughter?”

  “Yes,” Jade said. “He said it was very important that there were no disputes over parentage at all.”

  “Madness,” Emi
ly muttered. She knew for a fact that Randor had spent years - and dozens of mistresses - trying for a male child. If he hadn’t restricted his philandering to noblewomen, he might even have succeeded. “If Alassa had a child, she’d know the child would be hers.”

  “Yeah,” Jade said. “But the rules would appear to be different for noblewomen.”

  Emily rolled her eyes. She’d wondered why Randor didn’t simply pick a healthy male baby from an orphanage, adopt the child and swear blind that the child was a bastard son. It wasn’t as if Queen Marlena was in any position to object - and besides, failing to deliver a male son was a crime in the eyes of the kingdom. If Randor had managed to impregnate a noblewoman, the queen might have found herself put aside. Alassa, on the other hand...

  “And what would happen,” she said, “if Alassa’s child wasn’t yours?”

  “Her father seemed to believe I should cover it up,” Jade said. “You know one of those bastards--” he turned and hurled a fireball into the wards “--even suggested she wouldn’t let me sleep with her?”

  “I think you shouldn’t pay attention to them,” Emily said, as the flames faded back into nothingness. If the stag night had been half as bad as he was suggesting, she was surprised he hadn’t killed the lot of them. The king might not bat an eyelid at a display of killing magics from his court wizard. “Alassa can be headstrong at times, but she’s a good friend and...and I think she’ll bring a great deal of commitment to your marriage, when you finally tie the knot.”

  “It made it real, you know,” Jade said. “Even being here--” he waved a hand at the regenerating wards “--wasn’t the same as going out with them. This is a whole new world for me.”

  “Your father is a knight,” Emily pointed out.

  “My father didn’t even settle down to raise me,” Jade countered. “My first memory is being on the road with my parents. I don’t think he even noticed when I went to Whitehall.”

  “I’m sure he did,” Emily said.

  “He’s obsessed with proving himself against monsters,” Jade said. “One day, he’s going to try to hunt a necromancer and get blasted to ashes for his trouble.”