Wedding Hells (Schooled in Magic Book 8)

by Christopher Nuttall

  “I will see to it,” Randor said. He took a breath. “I am sorry about my daughter’s assault on you, Alicia. She will be reprimanded for it.”

  The wards did notice, Emily noted. She frowned as a thought struck her. If Randor is the one monitoring the wards, did he notice how many spells I cast in the spellchamber?

  “It was not her fault,” Alicia said, carefully. “I do not blame her for an angry reaction.”

  “Even so, she will be held to account,” Randor said. “Losing control like that could be disastrous when she takes the throne. I sent her to Whitehall to learn control.”

  Emily shivered. The king didn’t sound pleased.

  “Lady Emily,” Randor said. “Alicia may return to her chambers, where she can stay until she is summoned for her wedding. You will be summoned to bear witness at the same time.”

  “I understand, Your Majesty,” Emily said.

  Randor nodded. “Alicia, you may go.”

  Emily blinked in surprise as Alicia curtseyed and headed out of the chamber, looking relieved. It wasn’t the outcome Emily would have wanted, if she’d been in that position herself, but it was the best Alicia could have reasonably hoped for. The king hadn’t made thoughtless protestations of love, or tried to marry her; he’d simply passed Alicia on to one of his cronies and discarded her. He clearly hadn’t felt much of anything for the young girl.

  Of course not, Emily thought, as the door closed behind Alicia. Royal relationships aren’t about love or sex, but bloodlines.

  “You are not to speak to my daughter until I have spoken to her,” Randor told her. “I suggest you return to your chambers, get some sleep and remain out of the way until the wedding tomorrow night.”

  “You suggest,” Emily repeated.

  “I suggest,” Randor said, in tones that made it clear it was an order. “There has been quite enough disruption without adding more.”

  Emily looked at him. “Did you know she was pregnant?”

  “There were hints,” Randor said, shortly. He didn’t seem surprised at the question. “I did not dare to hope.”

  “The timing was appalling,” Emily agreed.

  “The gods have been known to play games with the lives of men and women,” Randor said, dryly. He didn’t sound too worried. “The matter has been settled, Lady Emily. I trust the settlement meets with your approval?”

  “I see no better solution, Your Majesty,” Emily said.

  “But you do not approve,” Randor said. “Do you?”

  “No,” Emily said. There was no point in trying to deny it. Randor had decades of experience in reading faces. “I think you acted badly.”

  Randor studied her for a long moment. “An odd attitude,” he observed, finally. “Why?”

  “She is a young girl, barely older than your daughter,” Emily said. She hesitated, feeling cold anger welling up inside her. “Barely older than me. And she was your ward. You were responsible for looking after her.

  “And yet you denied her the rights she inherited from her parents, kept her at court and eventually seduced her. How much choice did she have when you invited her into bed?”

  Randor shrugged. “I did not force her into my bed, Lady Emily,” he said. His voice hardened. “And I certainly did not rape her.”

  “You were in a position of power,” Emily snapped. How different was Randor, really, than her damned stepfather? She had no doubt her stepfather would have raped her if he’d thought he could get away with it. Randor was the king! Who’d stand against him for Alicia’s sake? “It would have been easy for you to hint that her future depended on...servicing you, on surrendering her virginity to her lord, master - and guardian. You took advantage of her! You could have destroyed her future for the sake of having an affair.”

  “Her future has been settled,” Randor said, simply. He didn’t seem angered by her words; indeed, he seemed almost amused. “No lasting harm was done.”

  “You’ve damaged your relationship with your daughter,” Emily said. Perhaps that would mean more to Randor than Alicia’s future. Had he cared about either of the girls? “She won’t forgive you for this in a hurry.”

  She stared at him, wondering if she was seeing the true man beneath the mask of kingship, a monster no better than Hodge. Hodge, who’d attempted to rape her in the Cairngorms...she tasted bile in her throat as she remembered his touch, his confidence that she would yield to him...it was hard, so hard, to keep her body from shaking in horror. Just what sort of man was Randor, really?

  Emily took a breath. Alassa had been quite cold about relationships, calmly rattling off the advantages and disadvantages in each match in a manner that left no room for love. She would probably have taken the news that her father had kept mistresses in stride; hell, given the brat she’d been as a younger girl, she’d probably known her father wanted a male heir long before anyone had thought to tell her. But now there was a second heir, after Alassa had worked hard to earn her throne. How long would it be before Alassa started wondering if her father still had plans for the baby?

  “Alassa understands what is at stake,” Randor said. “The kingdom needs a spare as well as an heir. A second child of the blood may make the difference between salvation and collapse into civil war. She understands the requirements of kingship.”

  “I’m sure she does, intellectually,” Emily said. She clasped her hands behind her back to keep them from shaking. “Emotionally? She’ll have problems dealing with the news for years to come. You turned her world upside down.”

  She had to bite down on her tongue, hard, before she could ask if the king had ever heard of contraception. Lady Barb had gone through the different methods in class, from reliable potions that worked every time to herbal remedies that were less effective than the drinker might hope. King Randor would have had no trouble obtaining any of them, if he wished, and ensuring they were taken before sex. But it wasn’t something she wanted to discuss with the king. It was bad enough being lectured by another woman.

  And he had good reason to believe he couldn’t get her pregnant, Emily thought, darkly. It might have been nothing more than a burst of very ill luck.

  “Alassa will come to terms with it,” Randor said. Emily had to think for a moment to remember what she’d told him. “And I thank you for your assistance.”

  His voice hardened suddenly. “Now, go back to your chambers and try to have a long night’s sleep and a quiet day. Alassa will, I assume, speak to you in the morning. Until then, don’t mention this to anyone, including your young man.”

  “I understand,” Emily said. Caleb had been doing something with Jade, hadn’t he? God alone knew how Jade’s second stag night had gone. “I’ll keep it to myself.”

  Randor nodded. “And I suggest you remember the proper way to address me in public,” he added. There was a hint of amusement in his tone, but she could hear the warning underneath it. “I think the way you spoke to me shocked Alicia.”

  “I’m sure it did, Your Majesty,” Emily said. She braced herself as she met his eyes. “But it had to be said.”

  “Go,” Randor said. “You’ll be summoned when the wedding is due to begin.”

  Chapter Thirty

  EMILY SNAPPED OPEN HER EYES AS she felt the wards alerting her to someone standing just outside her door. For a long moment, she wasn’t sure where she was; it took her long seconds to remember that she’d gone back to her rooms, after King Randor had dismissed her, and crawled straight into bed. She pulled herself upright and stood, glancing at the clock as she made her way to the door. It was ten in the morning.

  “Emily,” Caleb said, as she opened the door. “I...”

  He broke off, staring at her. Emily blinked in surprise, then looked down and swore inwardly as she realized she still wore the damned nightgown. She almost slammed the door in his face before hastily casting a glamor around herself and inviting him in, her face burning so brightly with embarrassment that she thought she could pass for a tomato. Caleb looked as embar
rassed as she felt; it was clear, as she closed the door behind him, that he didn’t know where to look. He’d never seen her in anything quite so revealing.

  “I just need to get washed and dressed,” she said. “Can you give me ten minutes?”

  “I can wait,” Caleb assured her. “Do you want me to order you breakfast?”

  “Please,” Emily said.

  She hurried into the bedroom, tore off the nightgown and used magic to clean and heat the water in the bathtub before hastily splashing herself with warm water. It wasn’t a proper bath, still less a shower, but it would have to do. She dried herself, donned a long blue dress that was loose around her curves and checked her appearance in the mirror. How was she supposed to face Caleb after practically showing him everything she had? And...she cringed in horror as she realized King Randor had seen her in the same outfit.

  I had a glamor, she reminded herself. She wasn’t sure she could have faced the king after wearing something so revealing. He wouldn’t have seen very much...unless he saw through the glamor.

  Gritting her teeth, she fought down her embarrassment and walked outside. Caleb sat at the table, munching on a piece of toast and jam. Emily sat down facing him and took a piece for herself, feeling suddenly ravenous. She hadn’t eaten very much the previous night and it would have caught up with her, sooner or later.

  “I’m sorry about that,” she said, feeling his gaze on her. “I...”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Caleb said. She risked glancing up and saw his face was red too. “I...you’re very pretty. I...”

  Emily groaned inwardly as his voice trailed off and changed the subject. “Do I want to know what happened last night to you?”

  “We went jousting,” Caleb said. “It was better than drinking, really.”

  “Oh, dear,” Emily said.

  “It was,” Caleb insisted. “Most of the noble brats got so deeply wrapped up in their mock battle that they forgot to make fun of Jade. I think he actually enjoyed knocking a few of them off their horses. And then there was one of them who challenged Jade to a couple of rounds in the boxing ring and got knocked on his ass. They were still at it when Jade and I finally returned to the castle.”

  Emily sighed. Alassa had told her that jousting - everything from two horsemen playing chicken to mock battles that could include hundreds of men on several different sides - was considered a way for noblemen to win honor - and to keep them occupied so they weren’t causing trouble for the king. Alassa had never been allowed to joust, of course; she wouldn’t have been allowed to enter the arena even if she’d been born male. A single accident would have been enough to smash the orderly line of succession.

  She ate her toast and listened quietly as Caleb outlined everything that had happened, commenting on just how poorly some of the noblemen had handled themselves. He’d been forced to take part in mock battles at Stronghold, he’d told her, and he’d picked up more dirty tricks there than had been allowed on the jousting field. Some of the nobles even handicapped themselves just to compete with others.

  “There was this guy who kept bragging about the amount of loot he won in each game,” Caleb finished. “He’d never seen a real battle and yet he kept talking about how great a fighter he was.”

  “A common delusion,” Emily said, echoing Sergeant Miles. “It’s easier to play if there are actual rules.”

  “War doesn’t have rules,” Caleb agreed. “They taught us that in First Year.”

  He looked up as Emily finished her breakfast. “What are you planning to do today?”

  “Very little,” Emily said. She knew she should check on Imaiqah and Frieda - she hoped they’d both managed some sleep after last night - but right now all she really wanted to do was have a quiet day without any more drama. “King Randor will want to summon me later.”

  Caleb blinked. “Do I want to know why?”

  “Not really,” Emily said. “Is your father having a good time?”

  “He toured the musket factory yesterday,” Caleb said, “and watched a demonstration of the latest weapons. I think he was impressed. He won’t admit that to anyone though.”

  Emily nodded. The muskets simply weren’t as impressive - or capable - as a trained archer or a magician. But, given time, machine guns and sniper rifles would completely change the world, justifying her faith in them. General Pollack might live long enough to see weapons that wiped out entire rows of charging orcs in a single burst.

  Pity we can’t buy them from Earth, Emily thought, sourly. She would have sold her soul, perhaps, for a selection of books from Earth and a handful of trained engineers. But that would change the world far too fast.

  “He was very interested in the musketeers,” Caleb added. “I think he’s planning to ask to borrow them for the next war.”

  “King Randor will probably be delighted,” Emily said. She would have been astonished if Zangaria was the only kingdom with a gunpowder research program. Nanette had stolen her notes, after all, and espionage was rife. “And the necromancers will get a nasty surprise.”

  She stood, walked over to the sofa and sat down, basking in the light streaming in through the windows. Caleb rose uncertainly; she hesitated, then beckoned for him to sit down next to her and wrapped her arms around him. It was easier, somehow, to simply hold him and relax, even though the thought of falling asleep next to him was unthinkable. She didn’t know how Imaiqah had managed to move from boyfriend to boyfriend without feeling uncomfortable.

  “We’re having the first ceremony tomorrow,” she said. “Did you get your invitation?”

  “I did,” Caleb said. “Should I be worried?”

  Emily shrugged. “It’s a great honor. But it’s also a sign that the king expects great things from you.”

  She kissed him lightly, then swore as someone knocked on the door. “That’s Paren,” she said, checking the wards. “Do you want to stay?”

  “No, thank you,” Caleb said. “I’ll see you at dinner tonight?”

  “I hope so,” Emily said.

  She rose and opened the door. Imaiqah’s father stood outside, looking mildly bemused. Emily wondered, as Caleb slipped past her and out into the corridor, just what he’d heard about last night. There had been no one in Alassa’s chambers, save for her friends, but rumors were probably spreading anyway. She welcomed Paren into her rooms, closed the door behind him, and motioned to the chair. Imaiqah’s father knew Emily disliked formality and merely bowed before he sat down.

  “I won’t keep you long, Lady Emily,” Paren assured her. “I hope you’ve been satisfied with the reports I’ve sent?”

  “They’ve been very detailed,” Emily said. “Have we kept ahead of the competition?”

  “Barely,” Paren admitted. “I’m afraid that several of our apprentices saw fit to set up on their own, rather than remain with us. They have sometimes even sold their own innovations to other investors. But we remain ahead of the competition.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem,” Emily said. The more people working on gunsmithing, the quicker new discoveries would come. “It isn’t like we can enforce a monopoly.”

  “Not outside the kingdom,” Paren agreed. “Even inside the kingdom...”

  He shook his head. “Quite a few powerful factions have been backing our competitors, Lady Emily,” he added. He gave her a look that was almost worried, sending a flicker of foreboding down her spine. “It wouldn’t be easy to demand they shut down their operations.”

  “Don’t try,” Emily advised. It would probably prove futile in any case. “Free competition will help the ideas to spread further than a monopoly.”

  “One would hope so,” Paren said. He paused. “Production of muskets is rising slowly as we train more craftsmen. There are limits, unfortunately, to how many apprentices we can take on at any one time. We have been trying to streamline the training, but many apprentices are reluctant to take a reduced apprenticeship because it hampers their ability to find employment elsewhere.”


  Emily nodded. “And the assembly-line concept?”

  “Still has too many hiccups,” Paren said. “We have been training apprentices while getting them to work on basic tasks, but it’s slow going.”

  He sighed. “About the only thing that’s going according to plan is the production of fireworks for the Royal Wedding. I’m bringing in thousands of fireworks for the final day of the ceremony.”

  “Alassa will love that,” Emily said.

  Paren looked down at the carpet. “I’ve sent a full report to you,” he concluded. “However, I was hoping to discuss another matter.”

  Emily tried hard to keep the dismay off her face. What now?

  “I would be happy to discuss anything,” she lied. Was Imaiqah planning to get married? No, she would have told Emily first. Had someone else asked for her hand in marriage? It was certainly a more plausible explanation. “What would you like to talk about?”

  “The current political situation,” Paren said. His voice darkened. “Have you been following developments?”

  “Vaguely,” Emily said, carefully. She wasn’t sure she wanted to discuss politics right now. “I know that someone has been spreading leaflets condemning the cost of the wedding.”

  “It’s getting a little nastier than that,” Paren said. “The Assembly was strong-armed into passing a bill to collect additional taxes, despite protests from its members. King Randor saw fit to simply ignore them. I’ve tried to caution him about the dangers of increasing taxes, but he hasn’t listened to me. And that’s just in Alexis. The situation in a number of baronies is a great deal worse.”

  “I was in Swanhaven,” Emily said. “They didn’t look happy...”

  “They’re not,” Paren said. “Emily, do you remember what happened during the coup?”

  Emily nodded. She’d escaped the castle with Alassa and they’d made common cause with the assemblymen, working together to defeat the plotters and restore King Randor to his throne. Paren had been ennobled in the wake of the coup, just as she had been; Alassa had been Confirmed as her father’s successor. The aristocracy had been badly weakened.