by K. M. Shea
“So?” Severin asked. “There are plenty of other military leaders in the continent.”
Lucien’s eyes softened, the fanatical light in them turning affectionate. “My dear brother. You are the best tactician this world has seen in centuries, and you have cultivated Loire’s army into the biggest and most powerful military on the continent. You are the Halvor of this present time.”
“I see it,” Elle said. “It also explains why they tried to murder Lucien. The rogue mages all but admitted they were harassing him to get to you. You’re the only one of their original targets who is still alive, after all. If they really had managed to take Lucien out, you likely would have collapsed. Even if it was just for a short time, they would have used it to their advantage.”
Colonel Friedrich approached Severin’s desk and tapped a point on Lucien’s notes. “And Queen Ingrid—she once was an enchantress, though she died very sudden and unexpectedly. She was also the only magic user married into royalty at the time. I bet they knew they had to get rid of her, or she would see what was going on sooner. Perhaps she would have been able to trace their magic and oust them.”
“Yes,” Lucien said. “Between dealing with her, Evariste, and the elves, though, I believe they overspent themselves, for two years passed before they stirred again.”
Ariane studied Lucien with a mixture of affection and admiration. It breaks my heart that he ever considered himself lesser, and it makes me understand his puffed-up pretend arrogance as well. It was all because he never saw his own value…and now he’s made the biggest discovery of the last several centuries.
“In the interim, Angelique started opposing them,” Gemma said.
Stil tilted his head. “What do you mean, darling?”
The seamstress’s cheeks turned a very faint pink, but she pressed on. “The year after Ingrid died, Gabrielle and Puss were set loose in Arcainia and killed the ogre. Puss very nearly died, but Angelique saved him and returned him to Gabrielle. When Gabrielle slayed the ogre, she cleansed Carabas of the evil it had steeped the lands with, and the Chosen didn’t respond.”
“They didn’t,” Lucien agreed. “Not immediately.” He stood and repinned his papers to the wall, this time creating a chronological timeline. “They must have feared they raised too much suspicion with Evariste, the elves, Ingrid, and Severin, for they are now far more covert when they do take action. Approximately two years after Evariste was taken, storms that isolate Ringsted began to build. Shortly after, Carabosso resurfaced in Sole—detaining the Magic Knights. The year after, King Henrik of Arcainia married the witch Clotilde, and the Chosen were given a grip over all of Arcainia—the financial center of the continent.”
“They’re running a careful balancing act,” Ariane murmured as she studied Lucien’s timeline.
Elle—who surely had to have the ears of a wolf—drew closer. “Why do you say that?”
“Because they’re setting off a few attacks against countries in ways that made them be mistaken for tragic accidents or independent rogue mages—not a combined effort.” Ariane said.
“True,” Elle agreed. “Evariste made his home in Torrens, while the elves are in Farset, Severin calls Loire home, and Ingrid was in Arcainia.”
“The goblin attacks picked up in Erlauf around the time Henrik and Clotilde married,” Colonel Friedrich noted. “And an evil mage tried to kill Cinderella then, too.”
“That’s not mentioning that the Arcainian princes were cursed during that time as well,” Gemma said. “Gabrielle said Arcainia was nearly overtaken by malice-filled creatures. It was everything she and Puss could do to fight them off until the princes returned and Elise defeated Clotilde.”
Ariane nodded, recalling the story Gabrielle had recited over tea during the previous week.
“Furthermore, in the winter of that year, Ringsted was completely isolated by the storms and cut off from all contact,” Lucien added.
“The isolation of Ringsted was perhaps a bit strong and one of their mistakes,” Stil said. “It made Angelique sit up and take notice.”
“Yes, but I imagine they had to do it if they planned to crush us,” Severin said. “Ringsted has the fastest and largest ships. If there was trouble continent-wide, Ringsted would be able to get things from one side of the continent to the other faster by ship than by trekking across the land.”
Elle laughed. “That one certainly blew up in their faces. Not only was the sea witch who was sent to isolate Ringsted captured, but when Dylan fell for Callan, it guaranteed the selkie entrance into this battle. The Ringsted ships can go even faster now with a selkie singing their way along.”
Colonel Friedrich peered at the papers. “The following year, the selkies defeated the sea witch—a win for us—but Princess Rosalinda’s curse activated, and Sole still sleeps, its Magic Knights unwilling to leave its borders.”
“Stil was also chased down that fall and early winter,” Gemma said.
Stil shifted uncomfortably. “Well, yes, but that’s nothing compared to Sole’s situation.”
“But it’s more proof Prince Lucien is right,” Gemma argued. “Another one of the Snow Queen’s first allies was Tollak—the first craftmage ever recorded. You are the strongest craftmage alive today, and you are also a stout supporter of Angelique. They targeted you because they knew you were capable of greatly impacting future battles.”
Battles? For a moment Ariane’s stomach heaved, but Gemma was right—as was Lucien. The Chosen had obviously been planning this for centuries, and judging by their actions, they planned to march against the continent. This was no longer random attacks or an unusual sweep of malevolent creatures; this was war.
“The Chosen are clearly targeting the Veneno Conclave, as well,” Severin said. “A number of the rogue mages we’ve encountered are students or exiles from their forces.”
“Indeed,” Colonel Friedrich said. “I imagine they’ve been trying to weaken them for decades.”
Stil’s expression turned pained, and he shook his head. “It’s impossible. We were founded on the Snow Queen’s principles!”
Colonel Friedrich shrugged. “Then how do you explain the two would-be-assassin mages sitting in Severin’s dungeons?”
The study was uncomfortably quiet for several long moments.
Elle scratched her cheek and glanced at Lucien’s timeline. “We have a number of the counterparts to the Snow Queen’s allies pointed out—and the deeper we comb through seemingly ‘random’ events over the past few years, I imagine we’ll find a few more. But this does raise a rather urgent question.” Elle’s expression was dark and guarded as her eyes scanned Ariane and the others. “Who do the Chosen believe is the Snow Queen?”
Silence.
Elle smiled grimly. “They must believe she has an equivalent. They wouldn’t be so meticulous in attacking the likes of Lord Enchanter Evariste, Stil, and Severin if they hadn’t already targeted her—or him.”
“Perhaps they already killed her.” Lucien glared at King Steinar’s journal on Severin’s desk.
“No.” Stil rubbed his eyes and sighed. “She’s alive.”
Gemma laid a hand on his elbow. “You know who it is?”
Stil nodded miserably. “It can only be Angelique.”
Ariane blinked in surprise at the statement. Angelique? Then does that mean Lucien was right, and she is frighteningly powerful? But I would have thought other mages would embrace that, yet they seem to disdain her.
A smile twitched across Lucien’s lips—one Ariane recognized as being simultaneously smug and pained for being right. “You believe so? Even though she claims she is an enchantress-in-training?”
Stil rubbed his neck. “Angelique is obscenely powerful, so much so it was greatly debated if she should be allowed to become an enchantress due to the sheer strength of her magic. If Evariste hadn’t taken her on, she would have been exiled because of her power.”
“But she wasn’t able to defeat Clotilde when she faced her directly afte
r the Arcainian princes were turned into swans,” Elle pointed out. “And even this week she was unsure if she could defeat Rothbart on her own.”
“It’s because she fears her own powers and doesn’t use them. It would even be accurate to say she hates her core magic,” Stil said. “Moreover, her magic is at its best when she is on the battlefield against regular soldiers or armies—not against magic users. There, on her own, she can destroy an entire army in minutes.”
Ariane shivered and felt goosebumps crawl up her arms. She knew Angelique. She knew the Enchantress was self-sacrificing, loyal, and steadfast. But the power to destroy whole armies? No wonder they believe she is the Snow Queen’s equal.
“It matches up. She’s had a wretchedly hard life since her magic was discovered and she was taken to the Academy,” Stil added. “Which I imagine means they were already targeting her back then. It’s a testament to the strength of her character that she hasn’t wavered—though I don’t relish the idea of telling her she’s our version of the Snow Queen.”
“What does this all mean?” Elle asked. “Should we call the representatives back?”
“I believe we should build our case and organize Lucien’s findings first,” Colonel Friedrich said. “It will be better for everyone if we can present a whole and thorough explanation when we send out word. Many of us are attending Prince Callan and Princess Dylan’s wedding in a few weeks—we can explain then. It would be better than trying to relay all of this over magic mirrors.”
“Indeed. Lucien’s discovery will help us prepare better,” Severin said. “We now know who the enemy is, we might be more effective in predicting their patterns.”
“Yes,” Lucien agreed. “But we still don’t know where they are.”
“They obviously cannot be in Verglas. But does it matter what country they’re hiding in?” Gemma asked.
Lucien plopped down dramatically at the desk chair and propped his chin up on his fist. “It does—mostly because I highly doubt they’re skulking around in caves. If the Chosen have stayed hidden this long, you can bet they cut out a place in society for themselves as they’ve bided their time.”
Lucien smiled as Ariane edged closer to the desk. When he saw that her eyes were on King Steinar’s journal, he picked it up and offered it to her.
Ariane hesitated, then shook her head. “It’s nothing. I was just wondering…”
Lucien enfolded her hands with his. “Yes?”
“What happened to the mirror?”
Severin turned around so fast he almost knocked into Elle. “What.”
Ariane bit her lip. Was it a stupid question? But I didn’t hear anyone mention it. “The mirror that the Chosen were trying so hard to get. What happened to it?”
The study was silent for several long moments.
Elle finally broke it when she laughed. “After this display, Severin, you cannot wonder anymore if they truly are a good match!”
Severin ruthlessly ripped a piece of parchment from one of his personal journals. “We have to get word to Queen Linnea and send a party north to Verglas to look for the mirror immediately.”
“And secretly,” Lucien added. “Unless we want the Chosen to know we’ve caught on.”
“We should send word to Angelique as well,” Colonel Friedrich added. “Snow Queen or not, she’s our strongest mage contact.”
“Gemma and I just received a letter from her earlier today,” Stil said. “She asked for Gemma and me to come to Kozlovka. We can explain everything to her when we arrive.”
“She only requested that I come with Hvit to look at some captive hellhounds,” Gemma said. “You weren’t mentioned.”
“She didn’t address me because she knew I would come with you.” Stil smiled and leaned into her.
While the others talked, Lucien stood and tugged on Ariane’s hands, leading her to the back of the study and out onto a balcony. The cooler night air was a welcome change from the rather packed—and stuffy—study.
“Thank you, Ariane.” Lucien smiled down at her as he held her hands.
That was about the last thing I expected him to say. “For what?”
“You have helped us all tonight just by being present and asking questions.”
Ariane shrugged uncomfortably. “I did not have any brilliant observations.”
“But you did,” Lucien said. “You were the only one who remembered the mirror.”
“Yes, well, that was more a matter of focus,” Ariane admitted. “It was one of the first things you mentioned, so I focused on it.”
Lucien smiled slyly as he raised one of her hands and pressed her fingers to his lips. “I did not know you so highly prized focus.”
“One cannot clean an entire palace if they don’t remain focused on the main task,” Ariane said. Her cheeks heated when Lucien stepped closer.
“I see. Were you pleased, then, that I remained focused in my research?”
“Y-yes,” Ariane stammered as Lucien chuckled in her ear.
“Excellent.” He slowly lowered his face closer to hers until his breath brushed her lips. “And now that I have done as you requested—”
“Lucien, your observations are needed,” Severin intoned from the glass door that opened onto the balcony.
Lucien grumbled and raised his head so he could peer at Severin over Ariane’s head. “Now?”
“We are writing up the drafts with your findings. We must have them prepared as swiftly as possible so we can have a solid explanation crafted in time for the Ringsted wedding.”
Lucien inhaled one great whistling breath and glared.
Severin was unbothered. “It will take time to craft a proper explanation. It is in our best interest to begin now.”
“This is vengeance for all the times I purposely interrupted your moments with Elle, isn’t it?” Lucien asked.
“I would never be so petty,” Severin said in a deadpan tone.
Lucien sighed and set his forehead against Ariane’s. “Perhaps tomorrow we could talk?”
Ariane fastidiously tugged at his shirt to make it straight so she could hide the smile that threatened to twitch across her lips. “Tomorrow,” she agreed. I will never let him know that I am just as eager to discuss our future.
“Lucien.”
“I’m coming!” Lucien snarled. He reluctantly pulled away from Ariane, then rolled his eyes. “I will repeat my points for your ruddy draft, but I will not burn my night away searching for the perfect words that will ensure no one gets their feelings hurt,” he grumbled as he followed his brother back into the study.
Ariane laughed, though she had to lean up against the balcony for support.
In a much shorter span than Ariane had thought possible, Lucien had identified their enemy. What does this mean—for both us and the continent?
Ariane lingered by the harpsichord, studying the painting on the underside of the instrument’s open top. She yawned tiredly as she glanced at the other instruments arranged around what she fondly called the music salon.
For the first time ever, she sought out the salon more to soothe herself than because she was searching for something to clean.
Ariane and everyone present in Severin’s study—as well as other mages who had been called for—had stayed up into the early hours of the morning. (Ariane because she had taken it upon herself to fetch refreshments, lest the group work themselves into exhaustion.)
She had retired when Marcelle found her carting yet another tray of tea to the study, scolded her, and sent her to bed with the promise of seeing to the group’s welfare herself.
She was more than a little fatigued thanks to her late night, and as a result found herself rather useless. She breathed out heavily through her nose and considered collapsing on the settee for a brief nap.
I don’t even know what I’m doing here.
She heard the salon door click shut, and started to turn around until Lucien’s strong arms snaked around her.
“How did you find me?” Ar
iane asked as he embraced her.
“Elle mentioned this salon seemed to interest you.” he said. “You could learn an instrument if you like. Really, from now on you could do anything you like—well, within reason. And as long as it does not deprive me of your presence overly much.” He rested his head against hers and exhaled. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you. Severin was a regular beast last night to make me work like that.”
Ariane smiled. “I do not think it is ridiculous to put the welfare of the continent before our…discussion.”
Lucien sniffed. “That sounds like something he would say.”
Ariane closed her eyes and relaxed in Lucien’s arms. “Hearing that, am I to assume he does not know you are here?”
“I had to wait until he passed out,” Lucien grunted. “I’d accuse him of turning into an old man, but I rather think Elle spiked his drink to keep him from working himself into an early grave.”
Ariane couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled from her throat. “She would do that?”
“She does it!”
Ariane laughed again—annoyed with herself when it sounded perilously close to a giggle. Stop. I am not some dewy-eyed maiden! She sternly told herself.
Lucien abruptly pulled back so he could move to stand in front of her. He took her hands in his as he met her gaze, his blue eyes dark and serious. “Ariane, nothing is going to interrupt us. So, may we finally talk?”
Ariane tried to speak but found she couldn’t, so she nodded.
His brow cleared, and he smiled until his expression again turned serious. “I have done as you asked. I—and Severin—believe I have identified our enemy.” His forehead wrinkled, and he brushed some of Ariane’s hair from her face. “I have already sent word to my father to tell him of my findings: I have chosen you. I cannot—and will not— return to the way things were. It means you will be by my side…right?”
Ariane rolled her shoulders back and tried to ignore the nervousness that gnawed at her. “Do you really believe you will be happy with all these new responsibilities—with everyone seeing your real worth?”