Nothing went wrong, she thought, as the servants ladled food onto her plate. The wedding, the true wedding was over, and nothing had gone wrong. They’re married now.
Caleb cleared his throat. “Is that it? They’re married?”
“There’s a big public ceremony in two days,” Emily said. Alassa and Jade would have a day to themselves before they were expected to perform again. “But yes, they’re married now.”
“It seems a bit of an anticlimax,” Caleb commented.
“I think the happy couple would want a private ceremony first, just so they can get married without the whole world watching,” Emily said. She knew the ceremony was more than just two young people getting married, but she wouldn’t have liked to tie the knot in front of thousands of people, many of whom would be secretly hoping that something would go wrong. “The big ceremony is for the kingdom.”
They ate quickly, enjoying the food. She had a feeling Alassa had chosen it herself; there was the obligatory roast meat and potatoes, but there were also spiced dishes from Dragon’s Den and steak and chips from Cockatrice. The thought of burgers and pizza being turned into gourmet dinners made her smile, although she had heard of places where fancy burgers were sold for upwards of fifty dollars apiece. She’d just never visited any of them.
And never will, she thought, as she finished her meal. It would be a waste of money.
The room fell silent as King Randor rose to his feet. “I have no doubt that the pair of you have been bombarded with advice on how to make a marriage work,” he said, addressing the happy couple. “My own father insisted on forcing me to listen to the most embarrassing lectures, on subjects I shall leave to your imagination.”
Jade blushed, Emily noted; Alassa lowered her gaze.
“It is quite tempting, as a parent, to try to spare your children the agony of repeating the mistakes you made yourself,” Randor continued. “I could offer you both the benefit of my wisdom, but why should I expect you to take heed? It wasn’t as if I took much heed of my father.”
He smiled, broadly. “I shall content myself with making a simple observation,” he said, his voice growing warmer. “You two actually knew one another before asking my permission to wed. Many who marry at your station in life only meet their partners under carefully-controlled conditions. There is no chance to actually get to know the other person. Very few people truly show themselves when they know they’re being chaperoned. But you two met beforehand. You know each other on a level many other aristocratic partnerships cannot match.
“Do not let this make you become complacent. Marriage is a permanent partnership between a man and a woman. You will spend the rest of your lives together. The true test of your marriage will not come when you take part in the formal ceremony, or go off together on a long honeymoon, but when you face your first crisis. There will be moments when you will disagree, perhaps savagely, on something so fundamental that you will feel it is the end of your marriage. Then you will learn if you have something for the ages or not.
“You must learn to embrace one another as you truly are, yet you will not find this easy. There will be a strong temptation for one or both of you to try to change the other, to smooth away the rough edges or reshape their personality completely. This will provoke resentment - and resentment can destroy the trust you need to survive the coming years. Many people will seek to drive wedges between you. A lack of trust, a lack of faith, a lack of respect...they will create chinks in your armor that your enemies will use against you.”
Emily swallowed. Alassa would have enemies, of course; she’d have them long before she became queen. It wouldn’t be hard for one of those enemies to try to seduce Jade, or attempt to convince Alassa that her husband had been unfaithful, or...King Randor was right. A lack of trust would destroy the marriage.
“Above all, you must be honest with one another,” he warned. “There may come a time when the fires of passion burn out, when you turn from lust to the hard task of building a life together. Honesty and respect will keep you together in your partnership; honesty and respect will serve as the building blocks of real lasting love.”
He paused. “There is much more I could say,” he concluded. “But I think that’s enough for the moment.”
How true, Emily thought, as the king sat back down. Was he talking about Alassa and Jade - or himself and his queen? And what sort of advice are you going to offer in private?
There was no dancing. Instead, once the cake was finished, King Randor and Sir Hawker escorted the happy couple to their quarters, while Queen Marlena and Galina headed off on some errand of their own. Emily spoke briefly to the Gorgon and Imaiqah - Aloha was chatting with one of Jade’s friends on the other side of the room - then allowed Caleb to lead her back to her rooms.
“The king offered some good advice,” Caleb said. “My parents trust one another with their secrets.”
Emily felt a stab of guilt. She hadn’t trusted Caleb with the truth of her origins, let alone her secrets. Lady Barb was the only one who knew everything...
“He’s probably seen a great many aristocratic romances go wrong,” she said, as they entered her rooms. “Jade and Alassa actually knew one another. That’s rare.”
Caleb took her in his arms and kissed her, gently. Emily kissed him back, feeling oddly torn between passion and a nameless guilt and fear. What would Caleb say if she told him the truth? His hand slid down her back; she tensed, helplessly, as it came to rest on the small of her back. He felt her stiffen and pulled away...
“It’s all right,” she said, as she kissed him again. “We’ll have plenty of time to get to know one another.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
EMILY WAS NOT PARTICULARLY SURPRISED WHEN there was no sign of Alassa and Jade the following morning. Unless something had gone badly wrong - and she rather doubted it - they would be spending the entire day together, completely alone. She joined Frieda and Caleb for breakfast in the dining hall, unsure what she should do for the rest of the day. Imaiqah hadn’t assigned her to anything before the final ceremony itself.
Nightingale entered and walked over to her table. “Lady Emily,” he said. “The King requests that you join him in the Throne Room, once you have finished your breakfast.”
“Thank you,” Emily said, tartly. That settled the question of what she was going to do all day. “Do you know what it’s about?”
“I believe the king is going to issue his final judgement on the issue of the Barony of Swanhaven,” Nightingale said. He bowed. “He would be deeply honored if you saw fit to attend.”
“Very well,” Emily said. She glanced at her plate, wondering just how long she could reasonably claim to be eating breakfast. “I shall attend upon him shortly.”
She glanced at Frieda. “We’ll go out after the final ceremony,” she said, as Nightingale oozed away. “I...”
“Don’t worry about it,” Frieda said. “Aloha asked if I’d like to explore the town this afternoon. I’ll just go meet her.”
“My father is planning to inspect some of the weapons designed for the Royal Guard,” Caleb offered. “I’ll accompany him, if he’ll let me.”
Emily frowned. “You don’t want to accompany me?”
She shook her head before Caleb could answer. It was hard to blame him for wanting to avoid an audience with the king, even if he was merely a witness. She wondered, absently, just which choice King Randor had made, but realized she already knew the answer. The king would see Lady Regina as the better bet. She might be a manipulative bitch, but Lord Hans was too erratic to be trusted with power.
And besides, she might have seduced the king, Emily thought, sourly. Why not? It worked for Cleopatra.
“I’ll see you later,” Caleb said.
He gave her a wink - there were too many others in the room for him to kiss her - and rose, heading off to his suite. Emily watched him go, feeling alone. Alassa and Jade would be furious if she interrupted them, Imaiqah was busy, Frieda was going some
where with Aloha, the Gorgon wasn’t in the castle and Caleb didn’t want to accompany her to the audience...it wasn’t as if she had any friends among the bridesmaids. None of them had anything in common with her.
And I scared them to death, she thought, as she finished her Kava. They’re probably making signs to ward off evil every time I turn my back.
“I’ll see you later too,” Frieda said.
“Be careful down there,” Emily warned. If Aloha had found some rebel leaflets in an inn, God only knew what else was happening. The rebels were definitely growing bolder. “And use magic to defend yourself if you get attacked.”
“I will,” Frieda promised.
She gave Emily a quick hug, and hurried out the door. Emily sighed, rose and headed through the maze of corridors to the Throne Room. There seemed to be more and more people moving through the castle, carrying boxes of supplies in preparation for the formal ceremony tomorrow. She caught sight of Paren, directing a handful of men carrying crates marked FRAGILE. He waved as Emily walked past the guards into the Throne Room. King Randor sat in his throne, reading papers, while a number of aristocrats stood before him. A large table had been set up on the far side of the room, groaning under the weight of a mixture of old-fashioned parchment and newer papers. There was no sign of Lord Hans or Lady Regina
“Baroness Emily,” King Randor said. “Please stand beside the throne.”
Emily kept her expression blank with an effort as she did as she was told. The aristocrats had never been particularly fond of her - they’d seen her as an unwelcome newcomer even before she’d killed Master Grey - but now they looked actively fearful. They’d probably been able to tell themselves that she’d killed two necromancers through luck; they’d find it harder to deny a duel witnessed by dozens of people. The thought of her standing so close to the throne - a sign of royal favor - was bad enough, but she was also a close friend of the Crown Princess and future Queen...
And I didn’t even want the honor of being a baroness, she thought. If I’d known what it entailed, I would have declined when it was offered.
She waited, as patiently as she could, until the king put the final set of papers aside and looked up. “Nightingale, summon the claimants.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Nightingale said.
Emily braced herself as Nightingale opened a door, then beckoned Lord Hans and Lady Regina into the chamber. Lord Hans looked coldly furious - thankfully, someone had taken his sword - while Lady Regina had dressed to demonstrate her maturity and her fitness to rule. Emily fought to keep her expression blank as Lord Hans glared at her, feeling her skin crawl under his gaze. She had no doubt he would kill her - or worse - if he ever got the chance. It was all she could do not to hurl a fireball into his face. Instead, she watched as both he and his cousin knelt before the king.
“We have considered your respective claims to the title,” King Randor said, once several more witnesses had arrived and the doors had been closed. He waved one hand at the table of paperwork. “Your supporters have provided detailed explanations of why one of you should inherit the position and the other should be given a place at court. We have read the detailed notes with great interest. Your lawyers have dug up and referenced many interesting precedents.”
His face darkened. “We were not amused when we saw that several of those precedents dated back to the days of the Empire. There are sufficient precedents to support both of your cases without drawing in references to the time before the kingdom’s founder.”
Of course not, Emily thought. You wouldn’t want to remind people that your family was once nothing more than a very minor noble family on the edge of an empire that covered a vast continent.
She shrugged. Unless the lawyers knew their cases were weak, she couldn’t understand why they’d dragged up precedents from before Zangaria became an independent kingdom. An American lawyer might as well cite a precedent from George III and expect it to be accepted in a modern-day courtroom. Or were they trying to cover up the fact that neither of the claimants had a very strong claim by burying the king under piles of unnecessary documents?
“But, as it happens, your respective claims were considered carefully,” the king said, drawing her attention back to him. “Both of you have strong claims. Lord Hans has a more distant link to the baronial line, but being a man compensates for Lady Regina’s closer link to the bloodline.”
Because Lady Regina might die in childbirth, Emily thought. It still didn’t strike her as particularly fair. Besides, Healers could ensure the safety of both child and mother if they were allowed to do their work in peace. Did you ask Alassa for her opinion before you made up your mind?
“And that leads to a different point,” the king continued. “A barony isn’t a minor lordship; it is, in many ways, an isolated kingdom in its own right. The successful claimant must handle a whole series of issues, some requiring the careful application of force, others requiring patient diplomacy. My daughter and I have spoken to both of you several times, since you arrived at court, and formulated an opinion.”
Emily blinked. Alassa had been involved? It made sense, she supposed, but she was still surprised. Randor had never struck her as one who was keen to share power. And yet, whatever problems Randor’s ruling created would come back to haunt his daughter. She had a certain right to offer input, if the king asked for it.
And he’s also sharing the blame, she thought. And making it clear that Alassa won’t be reversing the decision anytime soon.
“We have also discussed the matter with a number of others,” Randor said. He nodded to Emily. “Many noblemen had their own thoughts on the matter.”
There was a long pause. Emily was uncomfortably aware of Lord Hans staring at her. She wondered, suddenly, what the others had said. Had they looked to have their son or daughter married to the winner? Or asked for bribes? Or demanded promises of future favors? The winner would be in a position to bestow plenty of gifts upon his or her supporters.
And I wouldn’t trust Lord Hans to keep any of his promises, Emily thought. She had a feeling the king was drawing matters out deliberately. No one in their right mind would trust Lord Hans to keep his word, not when he can’t think or plan long term. A bad reputation won’t bother him if he gets what he wants in the short term.
“We have made a final decision,” King Randor said. “This decision was taken after careful consideration of the submitted documents, the statements of both claimants and consultation with my barons, lords and knights. We appoint to the Barony of Swanhaven...”
He paused, dramatically.
“Lady Regina,” he finished. “Baroness...”
Lord Hans lashed out, slamming a fist into his cousin’s shoulder. It would have been her head, Emily noted in horror, if she hadn’t already been moving away from him. A trio of guards ran forward, but they weren’t quick enough to keep Lord Hans from hurling himself at the king. Randor calmly picked his sceptre from his lap, cracked Lord Hans across the head and sent him crashing to the floor. The guards grabbed him seconds later and hauled him to his feet.
“The penalty for attempting to lay hands on the king without permission is death,” Randor said. He didn’t sound particularly bothered by the attempt on his life. “You will be taken to the dungeons and executed after the wedding ceremony is over.”
He nodded to the guards, who dragged Lord Hans away. Baron Gaunt, his face an expressionless mask, helped Lady Regina to her feet. It was hard to tell if she was in pain, Emily noted; she was keeping a very tight grip on her expressions. But then, showing weakness in front of the other aristocrats was asking for trouble. King Randor returned the sceptre to its resting place and leaned back in his throne.
You planned it that way, Emily thought, coldly. You wanted an excuse to execute Hans before he could turn into a problem.
She sucked in her breath as it all fell into place. Randor had clearly been expecting trouble, but he hadn’t seen fit to have Lord Hans chained up ahead of time, giving h
im the opportunity to launch his suicidal attack. The king would have had problems if he’d ordered the demented young man executed without due cause; now, no one could possibly argue there wasn’t due cause. Hans had struck a baroness and attacked the king in full view of forty aristocratic witnesses. Anyone who tried to defend him would be setting a very uncomfortable precedent.
“Lady Regina,” King Randor said. “If you wish to speak with your cousin before his execution, you may do so.”
“I thank you, Your Majesty,” Lady Regina said. Her voice shook slightly. “But I must decline. We have never had much to say to one another.”
The king nodded. “Do you understand the rights and obligations of the titles you wish to assume, both to your feudal lord and master and to your subjects?”
“I do,” Lady Regina said.
“Do you undertake to marry within two years,” King Randor added, “with the intention of producing children who can carry on the baronial bloodline?”
“I do,” Lady Regina said.
Emily felt a flicker of sympathy. Lady Regina might have more free choice than Alicia, but not by much. She’d have to submit a list of names to the king, who was perfectly capable of rejecting them repeatedly until she chose someone he approved of. Hopefully, the king would select someone who could keep her darker side in check, although that wouldn’t be easy. Like Alassa, Lady Regina would hold all the power in the marriage.
“Then I confirm you in your titles,” King Randor said. “Kneel.”
Lady Regina knelt, gingerly. Randor rose to his feet, took a golden tiara from Nightingale and gently placed it on Lady Regina’s head. The audience started to applaud as he helped her to her feet, then spun her around to face the crowd. Emily saw a glint of triumph in her eyes and shivered, inwardly. Lord Hans would probably have caused a revolution within weeks, but Lady Regina might be more dangerous to the rebels in the long run.
Wedding Hells (Schooled in Magic Book 8) Page 33