Daughter of the Disgraced King

by Meredith Mansfield

  ~

  Savyon played with a pen from his desktop as he scanned his second letter from Ailsa for the third time. It was short and almost impersonal. The briefest mention of missing him. Almost perfunctory. He was glad that she’d arrived safely after her frightening experience, but he could wish that she’d at least given him a more affectionate closing. One word would have been enough, if it was the right word. This note made it feel like more than distance separated them.

  He looked over the lines again. Maybe she was just tired from her long journey. And busy with preparations for her testing. Looked at that way, it was a sign of how much she cared that she’d written him at all, so soon after the first. But then why had she taken time to remind him about a game they hadn’t played in years?

  Years ago, when they’d all had the same tutors—Ailsa, Cergio, Perion, and he—they’d had a system for fooling the adults. It was most often used on fine spring days when they wanted to plan what they were going to do when the tutors finally let them out of the classroom. It involved referring to a passage from one of their textbooks so that if the note was intercepted, it appeared to be related to their lessons. Usually, the history texts were most productive for this, but there was that one memorable time when Ailsa had cited a problem from their mathematics text.

  Savyon smiled at the memory. He missed those days when he and Ailsa could spend most of the day studying together, but that particular game wasn’t the first thing he usually remembered about that time. What would make Ailsa remember that? He had a feeling that she was trying to send him a message again, like in the old days, but why not just say what she meant?

  Idly, he turned the paper over. Something attracted his attention to the seal and he raised it to his face to look at it more closely. There was a smudged area above where he’d broken the seal as if someone else had opened it and then resealed it. He crumpled the letter in his fist. Savyon could think of only one person who would dare to open a letter addressed to him. His father was reading his mail—specifically letters between him and Ailsa.

  That was how Father had known about the attack on Ailsa. Sources, indeed! His source had been Ailsa’s own letter. Savyon ground his teeth. Father had read that account, full of Ailsa’s terror and horror, and he hadn’t cared.

  Savyon took a deep breath and smoothed out the letter again. Somehow, Ailsa had discovered that her mail was being read and she’d written that impersonal note specifically to warn him. Had Father also read Savyon’s letter to Ailsa? And Ailsa had noticed that the seal had been tampered with? That seemed like the only way she might have found out. He’d never thought his father was as paranoid as both Perion and Ailsa seemed to think he was. But if Father was afraid that a girl was going to take his throne away from him, well . . .

  He snorted. As if Ailsa would be the center of some plot to oust Father from the throne! If Ailsa wanted the throne, she’d have accepted Savyon’s offer of marriage immediately. Clearly the easiest way to the throne. She certainly wouldn’t have gone off to the Institute of Magical Arts.

  Savyon tapped the pen on the desk. Things were worse than he’d thought. Ailsa was right to have questioned whether Father would approve of their marriage, too. His outlook on that had been a little too rosy. He could see that now.

  Savyon stood up and paced across the room. He’d need to do more than convince his father that this marriage would be good for Far Terra. If Father’s suspicions ran that deep, Savyon would have to frame the argument carefully, emphasizing the ways in which the marriage could strengthen Father’s position. Tricky.

  Argument. There was bound to be one. Savyon hated how contentious his relationship to his father had become in recent years. Seemed like Father didn’t even trust his own son anymore. Maybe Savyon should stop pushing so hard about the need to change the way mages were treated, let things calm down between himself and his father, before he brought up Ailsa. Much as he didn’t like the way things were in Far Terra, he could do that for Ailsa.

  Meantime, Ailsa was right. For now, they’d keep their letters impersonal to outsiders and encode any other messages by reference, just as they used to do. Only now, the coded parts wouldn’t be about riding, or flying kites, or any of their other juvenile pastimes. He crossed to the small collection of books he kept to hand and picked up a book of poems. Love poems. Ailsa had said that she wanted to be courted. The poets had said all the things he wanted to say better than he’d ever manage, anyway.

  Chapter 7: Limelight

  Ailsa stopped at the fork in the path as Jathan turned left. “Isn’t our class that way?” She pointed down the right turning.

  Jathan grinned and shrugged. “Yes, but we’re a little early. It’s not much farther to go through the rose garden and it’s worth the trip. The roses are just starting to bloom.”

  “Oh!” Ailsa turned left with Jathan. “I’ve always loved roses.”

  The Institute’s rose garden was huge. She stopped to smell a pink blossom. “I didn’t know there were this many varieties of roses.”

  Jathan grinned and Ailsa returned the smile. How had she ever classified him as ordinary-looking when she first saw him? There was something about his smile that completely transformed his face. And when he laughed . . . well, that was just contagious. And Jathan seemed to smile and laugh—and wink—a lot. Just being around him made Ailsa feel more cheerful.

  Her smile wavered. That wasn’t disloyal to Sav, was it? After all, she and Jathan were just fellow students. Maybe friends.

  Jathan cocked an eyebrow at her, noticing the change in her expression. He pursed his lips and then turned to one of the rose bushes that was just coming into bud. He stroked the largest bud with a finger and it burst into full flower, a deep red. Jathan plucked the blossom, expertly stripping the thorns, and presented the flower to her with a grin and a courtly bow. “You should always have roses. Their beauty suits you. Almost as much as your smile.”

  Ailsa couldn’t suppress a giggle as she took the rose. “It’s lovely. But you probably shouldn’t have done that.”

  Jathan drew back slightly, staring at her. “Why ever not?”

  Ailsa looked down. “Well, we haven’t really been taught how to use our green magic yet. Won’t you get in trouble?”

  Jathan tilted his head back and laughed. “Of course not. I mean, we probably shouldn’t try anything really big without some training. But this takes only a trickle. That rose would have bloomed in a day or two anyway. And no one expects us to completely refrain from doing any magic at all.” He smiled and shrugged. “Some will leak out sometimes, even without trying to do anything. Much better to start learning to control those trickles. At least, that’s what Mage Barth says.”

  Ailsa looked up. “Oh. I guess I didn’t know that.”

  Jathan shrugged. “Well, how could you? You haven’t even been to your first real class, outside of studying with your grandmother, yet.” He took her hand and guided it to another bud. “Here, you try it. You don’t even really have to do anything. Just let out a little trickle of magic and watch what happens.”

  Ailsa swallowed, a little reluctant to try this. But Jathan’s smile urged her on. She called up just the tiniest amount of her magic. The rose bud opened into another flower, very like the first. Ailsa couldn’t help it. She laughed with the pure joy of it.

  Jathan laughed with her. Ailsa grinned up at him, sure she was going to enjoy studying green magic with him.

  ~

  Ailsa ignored Jathan attempting to beckon her up front with him. For this first real class in magic—Practical Basics of Magic—she’d rather be somewhere less conspicuous. Book classes like Magical Ethics and History of Magic were one thing, not very different from her studies back home in some ways. But she’d actually be expected to use magic—out in front of everyone—in this class. She didn’t want to draw too much attention to herself. She found a back corner that seemed just perfect.

  An older teacher limped up to the front of the class. Mage Bar
th, according to the schedule Grandmama had written out for her.

  He tapped his cane on the ground to get everyone’s attention. “Good afternoon, class. Today we’ll be working on your mage lights. One of the kinds of magic available to all mages and obviously a very useful one. Saves on candles. So . . .” The elderly mage went on to detail the process of making a mage light.

  Ailsa’d known how to do that since she was about twelve, but she listened anyway, just in case there was some trick Mama hadn’t passed on to her. When he gave the word, she held her hands as if she were grasping a ball. Then she moved them together as if she were trying to compress the air between them. Slowly, a light began to coalesce between her hands. As it grew brighter, it took on a strong green cast. Hmm. That was new. Was it because she now knew the source of her magic? She continued to press until she had a fist-sized ball that was nearly bright enough to read by.

  She was so involved in her task that she didn’t notice Mage Barth strolling around the room until he stood before her.

  “Very good! For a new student very good indeed.”

  Ailsa jumped a little and her light went out.

  “Um, Mama used to make me practice at home.”

  “Yes, yes. It does help to have a parent with similar talents.”

  Ailsa nodded, not daring to correct the teacher. Actually, she’d learned very little for all her mother’s efforts, possibly because their magic was so different. Her mage light, which had always been crystal white up ‘til now, and the whirlwind were the only things Mama had ever successfully taught her.

  The teacher smiled at her. “Here, now. You should be up front next to Jathan. Sometimes we work in teams, you know. Always better if the team members have the same talent, where possible. I’m sure it will be a great relief to Jathan to have another green mage to work with.”

  Ailsa swallowed hard. She didn’t want to be up front, where everyone would be looking in her direction. Why couldn’t Jathan come to the back with her? But she couldn’t resist the teacher’s insistence. With a deep sigh she moved up to stand next to Jathan. But the position, and her knowledge of all those pairs of eyes at her back, disrupted her concentration.

  ~

  Two weeks later, Ailsa walked back from the far side of the Institute of Magical Arts. She was surrounded by a gaggle of other students coming from their Magical Ethics class. They made a brightly colored rainbow, traipsing and laughing across the lawns and through the gardens, wearing their sleeveless robes of red, orange, yellow, brown, pink, at least two shades of blue, and lavender. There were only two students in green robes—herself and Jathan.

  Being a part of a group like this was still a wonder to her. It could never have happened back home in Far Terra. Even the irritation at being dragged to the front of nearly all their classes was worth it for this. Only the fact that Jathan seemed never to leave her side, as he’d promised Grandmama, had brought her into this group. Amazingly, the others seemed to accept her as one of them without any sniping at all. What a different world Terranion was than Far Terra.

  As they passed through one corner of the rose garden, Karensa, a wind-mage-in-training, skipped up beside Ailsa, pale blue robes swirling around her legs. “You are coming to the student ball, aren’t you, Ailsa?”

  Ailsa paused in thought and the whole rainbow procession whirled around her. A ball where she didn’t have to submit to King Ewart and his paranoia could be a lot of fun. But did she have anything to wear? The gown Mama’d had made for her for this trip, that she had said complemented Ailsa’s complexion, wouldn’t be suitable. Not only did she not want to make that much of a spectacle of herself, but that gown was sapphire blue. Suitable for an air mage, like Karensa, or a water mage, but not for a green mage. Not at a school function like this ball. “When is it?”

  Karensa executed a little dance step, twirling in place. “Only ten days.”

  Ailsa grimaced. “I don’t think I have anything appropriate to wear.”

  Jathan laughed. “Oh, that’s all right. I’m sure my sister knows at least a couple of dressmakers who could come up with something in plenty of time. That is, if your grandmother hasn’t already taken care of it. You can be my dance partner. I bet you dance beautifully.”

  Ailsa smiled. This ball would be very different than the charged atmosphere of one of King Ewart’s functions. “Well, if I can get something to wear in time . . . sure.”

  Karensa spun one more time. “Maybe this time the princes will even come. We always invite them—to foster good relations between the Institute and the Imperial court. But they never come.”

  Jathan waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Oh, I wouldn’t count on that. I’ve already asked the terrible three not to show up. It’s one place where I don’t have to be compared to them, you know.”

  Karensa deflated a little. The she turned and thrust out her hand. A gust of wind whipped Jathan’s robes back. “Spoil sport!”

  Ailsa gasped and took a step back.

  Jathan laughed. He stood up on his toes for a minute, scanning the surrounding area. “Looks like the coast is clear.” As he dropped down to his normal height again, he brought his hands together as if he were holding something. The rose bushes spurted forward and encased Karensa in a thorny cage. “Ha!”

  Karensa’s arms were trapped at her sides. She closed her eyes. Ailsa already knew that some forms of magic came easier or were easier to control if the user could use his or her body to guide it. Karensa’s whirlwind whipped the roses away from her, but it also threw petals, leaves, even a few thorny branches around the entire group.

  Ailsa, being the shortest, escaped the worst of it. Suddenly all of the students were taking part in a magical melee. Water splashed from a nearby fountain to drench Karensa and Jathan equally. A blast of wind picked up Ailsa’s braid and blew it into her face. The ground seemed to tip under her feet. Probably the work of an earth mage.

  Ailsa ducked and ran for it, only stopping when she was out of range, on the fringe of a ring of onlookers. She turned and watched, too. From the amount of laughter, the other students were having a lot of fun, kind of like little children playing in a fountain. They were also attracting a lot of attention. Though, to be honest, most of the crowd seemed to be cheering the others on. Ailsa moved back a little, trying to blend into the crowd.

  After the initial chaos, a sort of order emerged as students clumped together. Three wind mages in a knot on one side. Four water mages on the other. The pink-robed healer mages grouped together and moved off to the other side, away from Ailsa, behind a barrier made of a controlled whirlwind. Healer mages took an oath early in their training never to use their magic to do harm. They really could be expelled from the Institute for misuse, so they were restricted to defensive magic. A group of brown-robed earth mages put their heads together as if they were planning their move in this weird scuffle.

  Jathan stood alone in the center, surrounded by a writhing wall of vines, which occasionally lashed out to flick at one of the others. He looked around and his eyes locked on Ailsa’s where she tried to appear inconspicuous. He gestured for her to come join him. Ailsa shook her head.

  Ailsa was distracted by a burst of laughter from Karensa’s group of wind mages as the ground under their feet rolled. Karensa lost her balance and fell backward, laughing even harder. It certainly did seem that they were having fun. Ailsa bit her lip. It was just so . . . public.

  She jumped as Jathan touched her hand. A wet streak slashed across his green student robes.

  Jathan gestured with his head back to the spot he’d occupied a moment ago. “Come on. Mages with the same talent team up. That’s how this game is played.”

  Ailsa hung back as he tried to pull her into the middle of the fray. “Game? What kind of game is that? You’re all going to get into trouble.” She yanked her hand free. “Stop. I don’t want to be a part of that.”

  Jathan blinked at her in surprise. “It’s just a little harmless fun. This game’s a
lmost as old as the Institute. The teachers know all about it. They consider it a good way for us to practice our magic and blow off some steam at the same time. Sometimes old Barth even has us play it in his class. He says it forces us to think fast. No one’s going to get into trouble for it as long as we put everything back the way it was when it’s over.” He reached for her hand again. “Come on. Together we can show them what green mages can really do.”

  Ailsa shook her head violently and hung back, swallowing down a wave of panic. Go out there in front of everyone and purposely draw attention to herself? Was he crazy? “I don’t want to.”

  Jathan kept hold of her hand, though a puzzled crease appeared between his eyes. “We’re a team now. The only two green mages in training. It’ll be fun once you get the hang of it, I promise.”

  ~

  Jathan dropped Ailsa’s hand and turned as the crowd swirled around them, parting to allow half a dozen men in uniform through. He cursed under his breath. “Why do they always have to interfere?” He narrowed his eyes at the much more ornate uniform of the leader. Arrigo. Seven hells! What was he doing here?

  Arrigo stepped up just a little too close and looked down his overly large nose at Jathan. “Well, well, well. Hello Jathan. Imagine finding you in the middle of . . . this.”

  Jathan’s nod of greeting was just barely short of insulting. “Arrigo. What happened? Did Father demote you? Surely you have better things to do than follow me around.”

  A muttering grew in the surrounding crowd as Imperial Prince Arrigo was recognized. Jathan set his teeth against a rising aggravation. Even here, Arrigo just couldn’t help but try to put himself above Jathan.

  Arrigo pulled himself up to his full height—two inches taller than Jathan. “Your body guard is technically under my command, you know.”

  Jathan relaxed into an insolent slouch, direct opposite of Arrigo’s aggressive military posture. “I don’t need a body guard. Not here. I’m in the middle of the Institute and barely a mile from the imperial palace. What’s going to happen here?”