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Wedding Hells (Schooled in Magic Book 8)

Page 26

by Christopher Nuttall


  It took Emily a moment to understand what he meant. Traditionally, she’d learned from Alassa, noblewomen would spend months, if not years, exchanging letters before finally tying the knot. If, of course, they were given the choice. Hans might even expect Emily to order Frieda to marry him. She’d be exchanging letters with a man she knew she was going to marry.

  “That isn’t the issue,” Emily said. She felt an odd flicker of sympathy, combined with the grim awareness that Hans would be a disaster as baron. Lady Regina had clearly been doing a better job building up support. “I don’t think you would make a good leader for your people.”

  Hans’s face flashed with anger. “I would be a strong leader,” he snapped. “I’d give the rebels precisely what they deserve!”

  He glared at Emily. “And your neglect is harming your people,” he added. “You need to supervise them constantly, not let them do whatever they want!”

  Emily felt her temper flare. “My neglect seems to be better for them than your iron hand,” she said, sharply. The latest reports from Cockatrice had made it clear that her tax revenue had more than doubled over the last year, even though she’d done very little personally. “I think your people are sick of your rule.”

  “My damnable cousin keeps undermining my position,” Hans snapped. His hand dropped to his sword. “When I am baron, she will be the first on the block!”

  “Neither of you would make a good ruler,” Emily said. She braced herself, hoping that Hans wouldn’t lose control completely. “And this...this stunt to convince me to support you is a good example of why!”

  Hans gathered himself, somehow. “I could offer Frieda the life of a baron’s wife...”

  Emily looked at Frieda. “Is that what you want? Look how quickly he loses his temper when he doesn’t get his way.”

  “I don’t know,” Frieda said. She hadn’t had any time to think about it. “I...”

  Hans drew his sword. “You interfering...”

  Emily froze him reflexively, then felt her body start to shake with shock. “Idiot! You utter idiot.”

  “He would have tried to kill you,” Caleb said, in disbelief. “Was he expecting us to do nothing?”

  “Who knows?” Emily asked.

  She stared at Hans; strong, ruthless … and utterly helpless against magic. He’d probably had some problems coming to terms with the fact that a woman could oppose him, even if his cousin had a better claim to the barony. Maybe he’d honestly intended to marry Frieda, if Emily had agreed, or maybe he’d just hoped to get Emily to support him and then discard Frieda afterwards. He certainly didn’t seem like the kind of person who’d tolerate a common-born wife if he found her embarrassing.

  “Go fetch Imaiqah, please,” she said, looking at Caleb. “And Jade, if you can draw him away from Alassa without making a scene.”

  Caleb nodded and departed. Emily sighed and looked at Frieda. She needed a proper chat with her younger friend, but she didn’t dare talk in front of Hans. Frozen or not, he’d still be able to hear. At least the whole clash hadn’t taken place in public, she told herself. The king would be able to smooth it over without making a fuss, if he wished. Or simply declare Regina the winner by default.

  Which would be just as bad a disaster for Swanhaven as Hans taking the reins, she thought, morbidly. Neither of them should be in charge of anything more important than a rowboat.

  The door opened, revealing Caleb, Imaiqah and Jade. Jade marched up to Hans, tapped his forehead sharply and then turned to look at Emily.

  “A neat piece of work,” he said, deadpan. “I couldn’t have done it better myself.”

  “I’m sure you could have, if you wished,” Emily said, dryly. First Year students were taught the freeze spell. Frieda and her cohorts had even turned it into a game. “What do you want to do with him?”

  “That rather depends on him,” Jade said. He cast a privacy ward, then waved his hand towards Hans and unfroze everything above the neck. “Lord Hans, I...”

  Hans exploded, shouting insults at Emily, Frieda, Imaiqah and even Jade himself. He was a very inventive curser, Emily realized; she hadn’t heard half the words he used despite spending two years in Martial Magic. If he’d had the magic to go with his malevolence, no one would have been safe. As it was, Jade eventually threatened to freeze him again and teleport his body into the sea. It was an empty threat, Emily was sure, but it worked. Hans quieted down, glaring at them.

  “The king will not be pleased to hear of this,” Imaiqah said, when Hans was silent. “I dare say he’ll be very unhappy.”

  “The king should recognize my rights,” Hans said. Emily shuddered at the sheer level of frustrated rage in his voice. There was no way she could ever approve of anyone marrying such a man. He was so bent on claiming what he thought was his that he had no time to think about the people he wanted to rule. “And I did nothing wrong.”

  “You tried to draw on a baroness,” Imaiqah said. “That’s a declaration of war.”

  Hans glared at Emily. It took her all the nerve she had not to take a step backwards.

  “I did nothing wrong,” he repeated. “I...”

  Jade took a breath. “Do you wish me, as Court Wizard, to handle the matter, or would you prefer to face the king?”

  There was a long chilling pause. Emily waited, fighting the urge to take Caleb’s hand and hold it tightly. Hans had to think himself well above Jade, someone who could only be judged by his feudal superior, but the king would take a very dim view of anyone who tried to draw a sword in anger. It might well lead to him losing his rights once and for all.

  And this involves magic, Emily thought. Jade’s supposed to deal with it.

  “You,” Hans snarled, finally.

  “You will go back to your rooms and you will stay there until your day of judgement,” Jade said, coolly. “Your meals will be delivered by the servants. I dare say you can use the time to work out the case you will present to the king. Should you attempt to leave before then, the matter will be referred to the king.”

  He turned to look at Emily. “You and Frieda had better go back to the dining hall,” he said, curtly. “Caleb and I can move Lord Hans back to his rooms.”

  Emily nodded. The king would find out soon, she was sure; Jade would have to report the matter personally, before rumors got out. But at least the king wouldn’t have to take action publicly, not when the succession question remained unsettled. Jade would make a convenient scapegoat if the issue exploded in their faces.

  Bastard, she thought, as she looked at Hans. What were you thinking?

  “Come on, Frieda,” she said. They’d have to talk after the dancing ended. Or go straight to her rooms and just stay there. It wasn’t as if anyone would complain if they didn’t go back to the dancing. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “I DIDN’T KNOW HE WAS GOING to ask for my hand in marriage,” Frieda said. “He...he seemed to like me, but...”

  She allowed her voice to trail off as Emily guided her towards the sofa and sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around the younger girl’s shoulder. Lord Hans wouldn’t have asked her - of course he wouldn’t have asked her. To someone raised in aristocratic society, the opinion of the girl was of no account, as long as her guardian approved the match. And, by his lights, he’d offered Emily a staggering price in exchange for her support.

  Because everyone will expect me to see Frieda as a nuisance, Emily thought, sourly. An unwanted little sister who isn’t even biologically related to me.

  “It’s not your fault,” she said, as reassuringly as she could. “Did you like him?”

  “He was charming,” Frieda said. “But we never talked about much.”

  “People like him are always charming as long as they’re getting what they want,” Emily said, darkly. Her stepfather had been much the same. “It’s when they’re balked that you have to watch them.”

  She shook her head. Jade would make a full report to the king and then...Lord Han
s had probably destroyed his chances of claiming the barony. It was unlikely he’d survive long afterwards, unless he fled the kingdom; Lady Regina would have him killed, just to safeguard her own position. And she was finding more allies than her cousin. Lord Hans might discover that trying to overthrow a seated baroness would entangle him with dozens of other noblemen.

  “At least he didn’t try to seduce you,” she added, after a moment. “You survived.”

  “Thank you,” Frieda said, dryly. She looked up at Emily. “I could have frozen him.”

  “I know,” Emily said. She smiled, tiredly. “After this is all finished, the two of us will go on a long tour, all right? There are plenty of kingdoms I’ve never visited.”

  “As long as it’s not the Cairngorms,” Frieda said. “I don’t want to go back there, ever.”

  Emily nodded in understanding. She didn’t want to go back home either.

  She kept her arm around Frieda, allowing the younger girl to relax into her, as they chatted about Whitehall and their future prospects. Frieda was determined to try out for Martial Magic in her Third Year, although she was also intending to put her name in for Team Captain, now that Alassa had left Whitehall for good. Emily had never understood the attraction of team sports, but she knew she couldn’t deny Frieda the chance to enjoy herself at Whitehall. God only knew what the next year would be like, especially now that the Grandmaster was dead.

  We had a necromancer, a mimic and a demon, she thought, morbidly. What’s next?

  There was a tap at the door. She gently let go of Frieda, rose to her feet and opened it manually, preparing a spell just in case Lord Hans had broken free and set out to take a little revenge. Instead, Imaiqah stood outside, looking tired. Emily welcomed her into the room, resealed the wards and blinked in surprise as Imaiqah cast a pair of privacy wards of her own, further safeguarding their conversation.

  “Lord Hans is under guard,” Imaiqah said. “The king was not best pleased to hear of his latest exploit.”

  Emily nodded. Lord Hans might not have known it - Emily certainly hadn’t wanted it to be common knowledge - but Frieda was the Heir to Cockatrice. All of King Randor’s concerns about Emily’s relationship with Caleb would only be heightened if Frieda married Lord Hans, threatening to unite Cockatrice with Swanhaven. At the very least, he’d insist that Frieda sacrifice her claim to Cockatrice before the marriage. Lord Hans had accidentally triggered the king’s worst fears.

  “That’s good,” she said. “Did you smooth it over?”

  “Well, everyone agrees that Lord Hans overstepped himself,” Imaiqah said, briskly. She glanced at Frieda. “Try not to get engaged to Lady Regina, please. She’s more popular around the court.”

  Frieda went red. “She doesn’t like me,” she said. “But then, I was dancing with her cousin.”

  Emily shook her head in wry amusement. “Is she that much more popular?”

  “She’s been spending money like water,” Imaiqah said. “Right now, I think she has quite a bit of support from the younger noblemen - the ones who stand to benefit from entering her court after she inherits the barony. The older ones are more careful, but they’re not doing anything to alienate her. It helps that most of them prefer doing business with someone reasonable, rather than an irrational nutcase.”

  And her people will probably rise up the moment they hear she’s their new Baroness, Emily thought, mournfully. But what does the aristocracy care about that?

  “You probably won’t have to apologize to Lord Hans,” Imaiqah added. “Still, I’d stay out of his way, if I were you, until the king makes his final decision.”

  “Because Hans may find something to offer the king in exchange for the barony,” Emily mused. “What can he find?”

  “I don’t know,” Imaiqah said. “But if he was imaginative enough to propose to Frieda, he might be imaginative enough to think of something he could offer the king.”

  “Or maybe it was just a desperate gamble,” Emily said. Sergeant Miles had taught her, more than once, that a plan with too many moving parts was doomed to failure. Hans had committed himself the moment he’d tried to ask for Frieda’s hand in marriage. There hadn’t been any fallback position in the event of her saying no. “He must feel outsmarted and outmatched.”

  “Probably,” Imaiqah said. “Lady Regina even tried to bribe me.”

  Emily grinned. “How much?”

  “A place in her court once she took the barony,” Imaiqah said. “I don’t think she’d lower herself to offer money.”

  “She could refuse to honor her agreement afterwards, if she wished,” Emily pointed out, dryly. “It isn’t as if you’d have a legally binding contract.”

  “The thought crossed my mind,” Imaiqah agreed.

  Emily shrugged. There was nothing Lady Regina could reasonably offer Imaiqah that could compete with what she already had, as both a magician and Alassa’s close friend. Imaiqah would have to be insane to accept a low-ranking post in a baronial court when she could be an important noblewoman in the Queen’s court. Lady Regina would definitely have been better off trying to offer money, even if it was a little tawdry. It would certainly have seemed a more convincing offer.

  “We’ll just try to stay out of their way,” Emily said. She glanced at the clock, positioned against the wall. “It’s late. We’d better sleep before the rehearsal tomorrow.”

  “Try not to be late,” Imaiqah said. “A number of parents are coming.”

  Emily groaned. “You couldn’t discourage them?”

  “They were insistent,” Imaiqah said. She rubbed her forehead. “It’s not going to be fun.”

  “Spoiled brats,” Emily said. There were more important things in life than being seen to take part in the Royal Wedding, even if there wouldn’t be another wedding for decades. “And the parents aren’t much better.”

  “The parents are looking for good matches for their daughters,” Imaiqah said. “And their sons. Do you know two of them even asked if I would consider marrying their sons?”

  Emily rolled her eyes. “And you told them to get stuffed?”

  Imaiqah smirked. “I was a little more polite than that. I told them to bugger off.”

  “I’m sure they were pleased to hear that,” Emily said. “What happened?”

  “I haven’t seen them since,” Imaiqah said. “My father has received a handful of requests for my hand in marriage, but I turned them down without looking. I don’t want to get married to someone who doesn’t see me as anything more than a link to a title.”

  “Then marry another magician,” Emily said, dryly. “Or remain unmarried.”

  “We shall see,” Imaiqah said. She grinned at Frieda, then turned and walked back towards the door, dispelling the wards on her way. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Emily. Make sure you get plenty of sleep. We won’t get much tomorrow night.”

  Emily nodded. In all the excitement, she’d forgotten. Alassa’s second hen night - hopefully one without alcohol. They could play games and chat one final time, before the ceremony began in earnest. And then Alassa would be married, Imaiqah would be staying with her...and Emily and Frieda would be heading back to Whitehall. She felt a sudden pang of grief and loss in her chest, even though she knew they’d be staying in touch. She didn’t want to leave them behind.

  Don’t be selfish, she told herself, firmly. Alassa cannot leave the kingdom and Imaiqah doesn’t want to be a full sorceress.

  Imaiqah waved goodbye and strode out of the room. Emily resealed the wards, then helped a tired-looking Frieda to her feet. She could sleep in Emily’s rooms tonight, if she wished, or make her way back to her own rooms. Frieda yawned, showing her teeth, and stumbled against Emily. Emily held her upright just as the wards shimmered. She reached out with her magic and realized that Lady Barb stood just outside.

  “You can have the bed,” she said, to Frieda. “I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

  “I can’t deny you your bed,” Frieda said, tiredly. “I’ll sleep on the f
loor.”

  Emily shook her head, pushed Frieda into the bedroom and turned to open the door. Lady Barb stood outside, looking disgustingly fresh. Her long blonde hair cascaded down over a set of silver armor, marked with a number of carved runes. Emily wasn’t sure what she’d been doing over the last few days, but it had clearly been energetic.

  “Emily,” Lady Barb said. “May I enter?”

  “You may,” Emily said. She frowned as she recalled the last person who’d worn charmed armor. “Why are you armored up?”

  Lady Barb gave her a tight little smile. “If I’d been an imposter, Emily, I was already close enough to you to strike before you realized something was wrong,” she said. She tapped the armor meaningfully, but didn’t seem inclined to answer further questions about why she wore it. “As it happens, I have to leave.”

  Emily blinked, stepping aside to allow the older woman into the chamber. “You have to go?”

  “I’ve been asked to return to Whitehall,” Lady Barb said. She closed the door behind her, then looked at Emily. “It’s...it’s quite possible that I won’t be back in time for the wedding.”

  “Oh,” Emily said. “Can I ask why?”

  “Apparently, there will be a number of discussions over the issue of who will become the next Grandmaster,” Lady Barb told her. “What that means, you should probably understand, is that the horse-trading has finally come to an end, a number of potential candidates have been selected and now the real bickering begins. If we’re lucky, Whitehall might have a new Grandmaster by the time you return to school.”

  Emily frowned. “If we’re lucky?”

  “It depends on how enthusiastically the candidates put themselves forwards,” Lady Barb said, dryly. “Some of them may have enough people backing them to make it hard to put them out, even though they don’t command enough support to have a clear shot at the title. A couple of others may surrender their chance in exchange for later concessions...”

  She sighed. “By the time we get to this point, it’s possible those of us who actually work at the school may be able to get some input into the decision. Mistress Irene has spent the last two weeks in the White City, trying to help steer the discussion. It may not have helped.”

 

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