I could hear the unsteady beating of his pulse. The careful way he kissed me back had my vision swarming before my eyes. It might have been slow but my pulse was thundering inside my ears like a roar.
For once neither of us was rushed. There was nothing forbidden, nothing wrong, we had all the time in the world.
Darren’s fingers slipped into the back of my hair. I looked up at him and his eyes were smoldering. This was us. He stared back and for once there was no challenge, no sarcasm or smirk, just Darren. And me.
After so many years we were finally together.
His fingers trailed the side of my face and my skin burned underneath his touch. Could a person catch fire and still live? I wasn’t sure, but I thought the answer was yes.
His lips parted mine. I shut my eyes.
Dear. Gods.
“Ryiah…” His hand skimmed down the side of my waist…
And a startled cry fell from my lips.
Darren fell back with a start. “Are you—are you hurt?”
I pressed down on my stomach and bit back a long string of curses. Hot needle pricks flared in response. “My ribs.” I avoided his gaze and silently chastised the god of chance. Now? The pain could not have resurged at a more inconvenient time.
Or maybe it is exactly the right time, my inner voice replied. You know perfectly well what happened the last time the two of you got carried away…
I groaned loudly to cover up the rest of my thoughts. Tomorrow morning I was supposed to set out to Ferren’s Keep. I couldn’t very well do a two week trek on horseback where I would be in constant motion with broken ribs.
I tried to stand and doubled over in agony.
Darren was there in an instant. I swatted him away with a weak wave of the hand.
“I’m a Combat mage.” I stood and took a sharp lungful of air. “Not one of those damsels in distress you keep here at the palace.”
He raised an amused brow. “I never said you were.”
A scowl met his reply. “Tell that to the tutors your father ordered me for etiquette this week.”
“I can never win with you, can I?”
I rolled my eyes, but inside I was smiling. Outside, my mouth was plastered in a grimace. “Just take me to the infirmary.”
“So full of authority.” Darren joined me as I started toward the nearest passage. He pointed the direction we were to take. “And I believe I told you I would never carry you.”
I let him lead the way. “That was four years ago. And I’m not asking you to carry me—I just want your company.”
Darren flashed me a predator’s grin. “Well, don’t expect me not to gloat on the way over. Because despite your injuries, love, I do believe I have maintained my standing as a first-rank mage.”
I rolled my eyes. “For now.”
I heard his chuckle echo along the barren palace hall. It was disconcerting. Usually the king’s palace was filled to the brim with wandering courtiers, mages, off-duty knights, servants, and, of course, my favorite, his older brother by three years, Prince Blayne.
Luckily, today was not most days. The entire court—with the exception of a small sampling of its staff—had departed that morning for the yearly first-year trials at the Academy of Magic in Sjeka.
Traditionally the Crown—the king and his two sons—was supposed to attend, but Darren had been granted a leave of absence since his new service as a mage in the King’s Regiment was to begin at the week’s end.
The two of us continued on in a comfortable silence—well, as comfortable as it could be given my new injuries. It was nice. We had barely shared any time together since the ascension. After Darren had publicly declared our engagement most of his time had been stolen in long meetings with the king and his advisors, and I had been thrown into a parade of anxious courtiers eager to earn the favor of a future princess of Jerar.
King Lucius had not been thrilled with his son, and he definitely did not look favorably upon the former lowborn who had caused his son to make such a “reckless” decision in the first place. Darren and Princess Shinako of the Borea Isles had found a way to avoid their own impending marriages by promising her dowry to me in exchange for a renewed treaty between her island country and Jerar. It had been a brilliant move, and one no one had seen coming, but after the initial night of revelry there had been new problems to contend with.
There were many concerns about someone with my background taking on such a vital role within the Crown.
It didn’t matter that said role was purely ornamental since Darren would never be king. It didn’t matter that as an apprentice I had acquired a highborn status on my own. And it certainly didn’t matter that I was hopelessly in love with the boy.
What mattered was that I had ruined a very strategic match between Blayne and an important ally. Now King Lucius was stuck in negotiations with Pythus. As heir to the kingdom of Jerar, Blayne needed to marry above Darren. And since the Borea Isles’ princess’s dowry had already been promised to me, Blayne was forced to pursue a new match with one of King Joren’s daughters instead.
In truth, it was a great opportunity. The Borea Isles were a much smaller territory and couldn’t provide the resources a large continent like Pythus could offer. But try telling that to Blayne. Darren and he had been intended for quick marriages to secure their dowries’ funds as fast as possible, and now Blayne had to find a new wife. King Joren was a much shrewder man than Emperor Liang. It didn’t matter that the Crown needed as much support as it could get in order to go to war against its northern neighbor, Caltoth; to Blayne, I would always be the unruly lowborn who had managed to ruin all his plans.
And now he was determined to ruin mine. The very next morning after Darren’s and my engagement, Blayne had petitioned his father to hold off on our wedding until he secured his own. When Darren had tried to counter his brother’s absurd proclamation citing the impending war with Caltoth, the king had stiffly sided with his eldest, stating that the suggestion might motivate Darren to become more involved in Crown affairs. “Besides,” he had added dryly, “we need two dowries to finance an army, not one.”
I wasn’t sure I believed that. More likely, the king just wanted to punish Darren for the public humiliation he had faced the night of our ascension. Lucius had been all too willing to go along with his youngest son’s strategy until he found out the second half of the arrangement: marriage to a lowborn. Since the king had already agreed to Darren’s proposal and Emperor Liang’s treaty had specifically mentioned me by name there had been nothing the king could do. Not if he wanted to keep the princess’s dowry.
Needless to say, the last couple of days had not been pleasant. On the bright side, however, the king’s general distaste had an advantage. Since he could hardly stomach the idea of me in his court, Lucius had been more than willing to grant my petition for service in Ferren’s Keep. Darren hadn’t been pleased, but he knew just as well as I that once Blayne’s wedding passed I would be forced to take up permanent residency in the palace.
If anything, I think Darren envied my freedom. Now that he was done with his apprenticeship he was limited to the palace regiment. The same for me once that year was over.
It wasn’t a bad thing. The King’s Regiment was the most prestigious company in the land, and who could forget the palace housed the current Black Mage, Marius? But an eternity was daunting. Ferren’s Keep was my one chance at glory, and I hadn’t forgotten what the Combat mages said about its action: the northern border was the place to be.
We finished the ten-minute walk to the palace infirmary, and I was surprised to see two familiar persons already present as we turned the corner. The taller of the two, a young man with sandy-brown locks and easy blue eyes was chuckling at something the dark-skinned girl beside him had said.
Like most mages in the kingdom, neither wore their colored robes except for special occasions, but their status was still unmistakable. The two bore the air all newly ascended mages carried: one of barely contained
excitement and pride. It was a sharp contrast to the calm of the palace healer in her red Restoration robe that greeted us upon entry.
“Alex! Ella!” I called out to my brother and best friend across the way.
The couple immediately turned toward the doorway. Ella broke into a grin, but my twin’s smile faded as soon as he noticed my injuries and the person standing beside me.
“What happened?” His question sounded innocent, but I knew Alex well enough to catch the unusual lilt to his tone. My brother had already chastised me for too many injuries during the course of our four-year apprenticeship, and I knew he was anything but pleased that his sister had gotten herself hurt. Again.
I hastily made myself speak: “It’s nothing, Darren was duel—“ I corrected myself hastily. “I was practicing, and I think I broke a rib.”
“Ryiah just needs a healer to look at her,” Darren said. “Nothing too serious.”
Alex’s eyes narrowed on the prince. “I know what a broken rib is.”
Darren stared at him. “I didn’t say you didn’t.”
“Did you do this to her?”
The prince folded his arms defensively. “Your sister was the one who wanted to duel.”
“That doesn’t mean—” Alex never finished because at just that moment Ella placed a perfectly timed kick to his shins. Alex swallowed, scowling, and Ella finished for him with a small smile in Darren’s direction.
“I take it Ry thought she’d give you a run for first rank?”
At her question the non-heir gave a small smile. “She tried.”
“Did she at least get in some good castings of her own?”
“Depends on what you consider ‘good.’”
I cringed. Now was not the best time to joke. Not with my brother seething in anger a couple feet away. “So about that healing…”
Darren and Ella stayed where they were, engaging in a strained but polite conversation while I followed Alex to one of the covered cots in the back of the room. He wasn’t employed by the palace staff, but the healer was busy enough with two of the knights of the King’s Regiment in the back so she didn’t give us a second glance. The rest of her staff had undoubtedly left for the Academy trials with the rest of the court.
As soon as Alex started to make his examination I lowered my voice to a whisper. “There’s no need to blame Darren for this.”
My twin grumbled under his breath but said nothing.
“You can’t continue to hate him, Alex. I already told you, everything he did during the apprenticeship, he had a reason—”
My brother cut me off. “I really do not want to talk about him right now.”
I sighed and let him continue his work in silence. I felt the cooling touch as his magic seeped out of his hands and into my stomach, the terrible sensation of movement inside, and then the blissful sensation as my rib pain trickled away, bit by bit. It was a simple injury to treat—a broken or fractured rib could heal naturally with no magic within a month or two on its own—but I did not have the luxury of time.
Sitting up, I gave my twin a grateful smile. “So have you and Ella finally decided which city to take up service in?”
My brother’s expression softened at the mention of her name. “Montfort.”
I started. I had been expecting Ferren’s Keep, or maybe Ishir Outpost. “Where is Montfort?”
“It’s five days north. Ella wanted to come with you—you already know that—but after what happened last year I didn’t feel comfortable stationed so close to the border, not that I like you going there either.” He gave me a pointed look and I ignored it.
Neither Darren nor Alex could talk me out of a position in Commander Nyx’s regiment. Besides, unlike the two of them, my station was only temporary: the Crown’s advisors had made it clear that as soon as Darren and I were married I would be stuck serving close to home—and that would be the end of my grand adventures. I bit my lip. It was the one thing I wasn’t looking forward to about my impending marriage.
“…Still close enough to the action to give her the excitement she wants, but they also have some of the best healers in the kingdom. Ronan is going there.” Ronan was a first-rank mage like Darren—only his faction was Restoration like my brother’s. The two of them had bonded during their apprenticeship, and while my brother was jealous of his friend’s ranking, I knew he also looked up to him. In Alex’s eyes, anywhere Ronan was stationed was worth going.
“And we both met with Commander Braxton during the ascension feast. He seemed friendly enough, and of course it helps that his city is hosting the Candidacy next year. As soon as he reminded Ella, she forgot whatever scheme she’d been cooking up to convince me to join Ferren’s Keep with you.”
I grinned. Ella was a true Combat mage. It didn’t surprise me in the least that she had agreed to Montfort so easily after the Commander’s mention of the Candidacy. It was a tempting opportunity, and if I hadn’t been so set on Ferren’s Keep, I would have probably begged to come along. The Candidacy was how our nation determined its reigning Council of Magic, known commonly as The Three. It was also how the Black Mage, Marius, had earned his title just nineteen years before. And in one year it would be my turn.
Even if I didn’t win the robe—and the odds were I wouldn’t—the prestige that came with any victory at all in our nation’s infamous tourney was enough to elevate my status. I was a second rank now, but there were at least fifty other Combat mages with the same ranking, as I was only compared to four others of my same ascension year.
Still, if I won against even some others of my same rank, it would improve my standing. That I was better than the ones I beat, and any of the lower ranks of that person’s own year.
“All done. Stop daydreaming.” My brother clamped my shoulder lightly, startling me out of my thoughts with a jolt.
I slapped his hand away in mock protest. “What if you had missed something? That could have hurt.” It didn’t, but I wasn’t about to let him off that easily.
My twin grinned at me. “You are just jealous you don’t have my skill.”
I rolled my eyes in good humor. “Jealous? Hardly. I believe the people up north call me a hero.”
“Funny how she forgets they were talking about both of us.” Darren and Ella had appeared beside us. I watched Alex stiffen at the non-heir’s proximity. “Ella tells me you two are headed for Montfort,” the prince added.
My brother opened his mouth, and then thought better of whatever insult he was about to say when he caught wind of my expression. When he finally spoke, it was the quietest reply I had ever heard him utter. It was also the shortest. “Yes.”
“It’s a great city. Small, but accomplished.” Darren nodded to the red-robed woman on the other side of the room. “Jeanette hires most of the palace healers from there.”
“How… nice.” I elbowed my twin and he grated his teeth. “Thanks for the recommendation. It means—” Alex took a long breath and the words barely left his lips, “a lot. Thank you, your highness.”
Darren’s face was frozen in a polite smile. He was as uncomfortable as my brother, but years at court had given him the upper hand. “Anytime.”
Ella winked at me. She could read the tension just as easily as I. “Well as pleasant as this little reunion has been, I do believe it’s getting late and Alex and I have a long ride ahead of us. It was nice to see you both before we head out. Darren, I’m sure we’ll see you in Montfort with Ry for the Candidacy next year?”
The lines seemed to leave Darren’s shoulders—not much, but just enough to betray the real anxiety he had felt just moments before. “Of course.”
I exchanged a quick embrace with my best friend and brother, and then watched them go.
As soon as they were out of sight Darren turned to face me. “He still hates me.”
“Give him time.” I squeezed his hand. “Alex has had the wrong opinion of you for so long. And he’s never liked anyone I courted.”
“He liked Ian.”
/>
“Ian was…” I paused, unsure how to begin. “Well, he’s…”
The non-heir studied me in my hesitation. “He is everything I’m not.”
“Ian is what Alex wants,” I amended. “Not me.”
Darren was silent.
“I chose you.” I jabbed at the non-heir’s chest with my finger. “I want you.” I jabbed again. “I love you, you—” Jab. “Silly—” Jab. “Stubborn—”
Darren caught my finger with a straight face. “That’s enough injuries for one night, don’t you think?”
“Do you believe me?”
The corner of his lip twitched. “Gods know I am in for a lot of misery if I’m wrong.” He tilted my chin up to his face and for once his eyes were serious. “I am going to miss you, Ryiah.”
I looked down, heart sinking. “You could still come with me.”
“You could still stay.”
We were back to the same conversation we’d had all week.
Darren looked toward the ceiling. “Out of all the women I’ve met I would pick the only one who is too stubborn to enjoy my father’s court.” He returned his gaze to me, defeated. “I suppose there’s no talking you around?”
I shook my head.
“I didn’t think so.” The non-heir groaned. “You frustrate me, you know that?”
I smiled. “And you are the most difficult person I’ve ever met.”
He raised a brow. “Second only to yourself, of course.”
“Darren.”
“Yes?”
I sighed. “I’m going to miss you, too.”
Chapter Two
Trepidation filled every waking moment of the fourteen long days it took to reach the northeastern stronghold of Ferren’s Keep.
Most of my trip was spent deep in thought, watching the passing of croplands and riverbeds of the country mainland. With the growing rebel attacks, Jerar’s impending war with Caltoth, and my new position close to the border, the Crown’s advisors had decreed that one of the King’s Regiment remain with the future princess at all times. So, like the pack of guards that had once accompanied Darren to the Academy many years before, I now had Paige, a young knight four years my senior, for companionship. She wasn’t very talkative, and what little sentences she did speak were of basic necessity.
The Black Mage: Candidate Page 2