“I . . .” Sav paused to clear his throat. “I wanted to see some of the city and I thought . . . maybe I could walk with you back to the palace.”
Ailsa swallowed and gestured down at her grass green student robes, stained from her recent work. “I have to clean up and change first.”
“I’ll wait.”
Ailsa smiled over the sudden fluttering in her stomach. “I’ll hurry.”
Chapter 22: Rift
Ailsa allowed Sav to guide her down the path from her grandmother’s door, but then she turned in the opposite direction from the corner that led to the avenue up to the palace. The gardens of the Institute would be much more private than the open street. There were plenty of places to stop and sit. She didn’t discount the fact that she’d feel more comfortable with green and growing things around her, too. “It’s a little farther if we cut across the Institute grounds, but there’ll be less traffic at this time of day. It’ll be easier to talk. Besides, I like this way better.”
Sav nodded and followed her lead. They walked in silence for a few steps, while Ailsa tried to think of a way to start this conversation.
Sav spoke first. “So . . . were you with Prince What’s-His-Name this afternoon?”
Ailsa bit her lip. This wasn’t how she wanted to start this conversation. “Jathan? Of course. We’re the only two green mages in training. We work together a lot.”
Sav removed his hand from her arm and clasped his hands behind his back. “Prince Rishiart said you were being trained as a team.”
Ailsa nodded. “Yes. At least part of the time. Jathan and I are very well-matched. There are some things that could be done by a single mage that can be accomplished more than twice as fast working as a team or in a circle. And there are things, like what we did today, that must be done more quickly than a single mage can work. And things that are just too big for one mage. We worked together with Grandmama on some oak root fungus not long ago.” They’d reached the very rose garden where she and Jathan had worked. Maybe it wouldn’t be a good idea to draw that to Sav’s attention, though.
“Well-matched. Rishiart said that, too. What exactly does that mean?”
Ailsa halted, forcing Sav to stop and turn to face her. “It means that the level of our abilities is similar enough that either of us can take the lead—can hold the amount of magic the other can produce without hurting ourselves. I led today, but we trade off. It means that we’re in about the same place in our training, so neither of us has to hold back for the other. It means that we work together better than we work with anybody else, even Grandmama. And yes, it means that we are . . . very fond of each other.”
Sav’s eyes blazed. “Fond of each other? Is that all?” he asked through clenched teeth.
Ailsa raised her eyes to meet his. This wasn’t how she wanted to start, but if Sav did . . . maybe it was just better to lay everything on the table. “To tell you the truth, Sav, I don’t know if that’s all or not. We’ve been very careful about that. Joining our magic when we work together has an . . . intoxicating effect. That can be . . . confusing.”
Sav made a growling noise deep in his throat. “Intoxicating? Confusing? I don’t like the sound of that. I wish you wouldn’t work with him anymore.”
Ailsa tilted her chin up and narrowed her eyes, wishing she was taller so she didn’t have to look up to meet his eyes. She was not going to give up her magic or control over what she did with it. It was best to get that straight right now. “Well, that’s not your decision to make. The only two people who have a right to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do with my magic are Grandmama, who is our mentor in green magic, and the master of the Institute. Once I complete my training—and I will complete my training—even they will only be able to make suggestions. Not you. Not my father. Not King Ewart. Not even the emperor.” She took a deep breath. “Besides, Jathan has actually talked about working with me in Far Terra, at least some of the time. What we could do together . . . You wouldn’t want to lose that resource for Far Terra. Not if you were thinking clearly.”
Ailsa turned on her heel and walked on, forcing Sav to catch up to her. She kept the pace brisk enough to discourage conversation while she got her temper under control. She tossed her braid behind her. This was not how she’d wanted to start this conversation. She slowed her steps just a little. “Speaking of Far Terra, I wrote to you about what Grandmama said about the way to change things in Far Terra. What did you . . . think about that?”
Sav made a chopping motion with his hand. “Your grandmother is a mage, not a ruler. It’d be nice to think that things would work that way, but she has no idea what’s really possible in Far Terra.”
“I do. You can’t claim I don’t understand how things are in Far Terra. I know it wouldn’t be easy, but I think some of what she says could work. Especially since I’m a powerful green mage. Far Terra needs me. That is power that could be used to create change.”
“Even you don’t know what’s been going on back home.” Sav proceeded to tell her about finding her aunt, Lady Izbel, held prisoner by Baron Mikel. “No mage is going to change things in Far Terra. It has to come from above. And it’s not going to come from my father. It’ll have to be the emperor. And that will only make the barons more stubborn—and more dangerous.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. Your grandmother’s ideas might have worked a generation ago, if your mother had been a green mage or a water mage instead of a heat mage. Not now.”
Ailsa’s lips thinned. “That’s precisely why the change should come from within. Offer the barons something they need desperately, but can only have if they accept change. The ones who are too stubborn to change will doom themselves. Sav, it could be done.”
They’d reached a walk between trimmed hedges and shaded by overhanging maple trees. A part of the campus Ailsa loved almost as much as the rose garden.
Sav stopped. “You’re asking me to make your father’s choice. To abdicate my position for you.”
Ailsa stopped and turned to face him. “No. I’m asking you to make a much harder choice. Take the risk and fight with me to be the agent of change Far Terra needs.”
Sav paced across the width of the path and back. “It’s the same thing. Even if Father didn’t disinherit me, the barons would force me out, just like they did your father.”
Ailsa watched him, grinding her teeth at his stubbornness. “I don’t think so. Not once they see what I can do. Anyway, the emperor wants to see this change, too. He’d back us. He would have backed my father.”
Sav stopped his pacing and turned back to her. “You want me to gamble everything on that. I can’t.”
Ailsa crossed her arms, one foot beginning to tap furiously. “What are you afraid of? Surely you don’t think Cergio’s a threat. He’s never been serious enough about anything to keep his mind on it for more than a day. And Perion would run rather than be king even if he wasn’t descended through the female line—and a female mage, at that. Who else is there?”
Sav held his hands out in a pleading gesture. “That’s just it, Ailsa. I’ve been thinking about this a lot since the emperor’s summons came—since he sent for all of the potential heirs. I’d always assumed it would be me, but that made me think. You’re right about Perion. Besides, as you say, the barons would never accept the son of a mage. But those same barons would prefer Cergio to me. They’d welcome his flightiness, because they think it’d make him easier to manipulate for their own ends. Even if I were already king, I couldn’t just overrule the barons completely. It’s not something you can ask of me.” He reached out a hand to take one of hers.
Ailsa stamped her foot and knocked Sav’s hand away. “Well, giving up my magic isn’t something you can ask of me.”
Sav’s hands clenched briefly and then opened again. “Ailsa, I have to be the heir the emperor chooses. And then I have to find a way to work with the barons. It’s the only way to make things better in Far Terra. Maybe then . . .”
Out of the corner
of her eye, Ailsa saw the closely pruned branches of the hedge thrashing as if in a high wind. The only gale was the rising anger inside her. How dare Sav even suggest this? What right did he think he had? Her voice rose in pitch as she shouted back at him. “What do you expect me to do? Just wait around until either your father dies or the emperor removes him and until you’ve won the barons over? And just what are you willing to give up? Or am I the only one expected to make sacrifices? What are you willing to risk? Because, if you’re not willing to take any kind of chance, why should I?”
Sav took a step back in the face of her rage. “I know what I’m asking is unfair. You could . . . you could marry me and just not use your magic for a while. Just until I have time to establish myself.”
The hedges and the trees were whipping now. Ailsa could hear her own blood pounding in her ears. She was sick and tired of looking up at Sav. It made her feel like a child throwing a tantrum. Right now she needed to make sure that he saw her as an equal. She remembered the odd game Jathan sometimes played with the other students, pitting their magic against each other. She’d never joined in, but right now she was too angry to worry about drawing attention to herself. Ailsa held out her arms and let her magic flow. At a gesture, the truncated branches of the hedges extended and made a stair for her to climb up to Sav’s eye-level. “That could be years, Sav. Decades. You want me to give up my magic on the chance that you’ll feel secure enough to let me have it back, to be myself, when you feel stronger? How dare you?” She stepped back down from the impromptu stairs just as a half dozen armed men ran up to them, placing themselves between her and Sav.
Sav backed up a step. “Who are—?”
Ailsa jerked her chin up. “My bodyguard. She looked to the one with the most braid on his shoulder. “It’s all right. He won’t hurt me—physically anyway.” She smiled grimly. “Just give me a head start.” With that, she turned her back firmly on Sav and the bodyguard and marched off toward the palace.
“Ailsa!” Sav called after her.
“I’m not going back into that box,” Ailsa cast over her shoulder, without pausing.
“Ailsa, I . . .”
She whirled and pinned him with her gaze. “I can’t love you if I can’t be myself. And I don’t even know what your love means if you can’t love who I am. I think we’ve said quite enough.”
~
Jathan leaned against the gate, waiting to escort Ailsa into the imperial dining room. He knew from Rishiart that it would likely be Ailsa and Prince Savyon, arriving together. He gritted his teeth a little at that thought, but schooled his face to nonchalance.
Jathan straightened when he saw Ailsa crossing the avenue from the campus of the Institute. Even before he could see her face, he knew something was wrong. Everything about her posture and her gait reeked of anger. As Ailsa stomped up the walk, Prince Savyon came into view behind her. Hmm. Whatever his rival had said or done had backfired—badly. Jathan suppressed a grin. It wouldn’t do to appear to be gloating. In fact, it was probably better to say nothing at all at this point—or at least nothing about Prince Savyon.
Ailsa stopped in front of him with a huff.
Jathan offered her a slight bow. “Welcome. I came out to show you to the imperial dining room. Your parents are eager to see you again.” He picked a leaf off her sleeve without making any comment at all.
Ailsa looked at the leaf and then at Jathan’s face. He smiled at her and offered his arm. After a moment’s hesitation, she took it.
The delay had allowed Prince Savyon to catch up to them, but Jathan’s presence prevented him from doing more than just following them into the dining room. Jathan led Ailsa directly to her father’s side and withdrew.
Rishiart came to stand beside him. “Get over there. Now’s your chance.”
Jathan shook his head. He continued to watch Ailsa, discreetly, but made no move towards her. “No.”
“Look, she’s obviously mad at Savyon for some reason. Now—”
Jathan drew a deep breath. “Rish, do you remember when we were in the mountains?”
Rishiart turned to stare at his brother. “Jathan, it was only a few weeks ago.”
Jathan smiled thinly. “Yes. Now, after Arrigo’s . . . mistake, did Ailsa ever go into the water again?”
Rishiart’s eyes lost their focus as he tried to recall. “She waded a little, never deeper than her knees, though. She said the lake up at the lodge was scarier because there weren’t reeds and lilies in it.”
“Yeah, that’s what she said. There’s probably even some truth in it. What I noticed, though, was that she’d walk into the water, at first, like she was at least thinking about it. Then you, and Artair, and Mayra, and even Arrigo all tried to persuade her to go deeper. And every time you did, her jaw set even harder and she stayed closer to the shore the next time, until she’d barely even get her toes wet. She doesn’t like being pushed.”
“So? Who does?”
“Right, but different people react differently to it, yes? Artair gets mulish and arrogant. Arrigo gets mulish and sullen. Mayra pouts, but then usually gives in. Ailsa gets stubborn, too, but . . . differently than our esteemed siblings. It . . . stiffens her resolve. If I push her now, she’ll dig her heels in and everything’ll just get harder. Whatever Prince Savyon’s done or said is enough for now. Let him stew in it.”
“But—”
Jathan gestured with his chin back out to where Ailsa stood talking with her parents. “Watch. Can’t you see how every time he tries to talk to her she grits her teeth? No. Ailsa needs to be given enough space to work things out for herself. I need to just be a friend, for now. That’s the long game.”
“Not easy, though.”
Jathan’s eyes flicked back up to Rishiart’s, blazing. “I never said it was going to be easy. Just necessary.”
Chapter 23: Strategies
Ailsa blew out her breath and braced her shoulders before crossing the avenue. It had been three days since her outburst with Sav, but her stomach still churned with the mixture of suppressed anger and betrayal. She hoped Jathan would greet her when she stepped through the gates of the Imperial Palace. Jathan’s glib attitude could be irritating, but he usually had a way of easing her tension and she was very nervous right now at the thought of meeting Sav again.
She’d avoided talking to or even seeing Sav since that dinner, mostly because she was worried what would happen if they argued like that again. Ailsa was a little scared at the thought of what her magic could have done. Making steps out of the hedge was one thing. That hadn’t done anyone any real harm. But as hard as the trees had been whipping in the wake of her anger, what else might have happened if her bodyguard hadn’t given her a little separation from Sav? She didn’t want to find out.
She didn’t have any choice about meeting with Sav this time, though. She’d been summoned by the emperor to attend a strategy meeting regarding Far Terra. Sav would certainly be there. There’d be no way to avoid him. Well, at least they wouldn’t be alone.
She took an involuntary step back when she looked up and saw Sav, not Jathan, waiting for her by the gate.
Sav stepped forward, one hand outstretched. “I wanted a chance to talk to you before we join the others.”
Ailsa raised her chin and bunched her fists, fighting to control her temper. “What more do you think we have to say?”
Sav bowed his head. “I needed to tell you I’m sorry. I . . . had no right to ask that of you. It’s just . . . when I saw you with him . . . I panicked.”
“What? Like you panicked and asked me to marry you three days before I left for the Institute? Panic doesn’t seem like a very solid foundation for . . . anything.” Certainly not for a marriage. Not for a reign, either, come to that.
Sav took a step back. “Yes. That, too. When it comes to you, I . . . don’t seem to be able to help myself.”
“Seems to me, your proposal has a whole lot more to do with you than it does with me—or us.” It should be us, sure
ly, if it’s to be worth anything. Ailsa started past him. She knew the way to the emperor’s office, even if Jathan wasn’t here to greet her.
The door to the emperor’s office stood open. Ailsa knocked anyway.
“Enter,” the emperor called from within.
Ailsa stepped through the door and was surprised to find that only the emperor and her father were present. Even Jathan wasn’t there. It was going to be a smaller meeting than she’d expected. She sat down on the little sofa next to her father. Savyon stood in the door behind her. The emperor gestured for him to come inside and close the door.
“Now that you two are here, we can get started,” the emperor said. “From what I’ve learned from each of you and the reports I’ve had from both Rishiart and Arrigo, it’s clear to me that the situation in Far Terra cannot be allowed to continue as it is. King Ewart must be forced to a different course. Our job, here, is to try to decide how to accomplish that.”
Sav fidgeted on the far couch. “You wouldn’t replace Father, would you?”
The emperor turned to him. “The treaty gives me that power, but it certainly wouldn’t be my first choice.” He smiled dryly. “Deposing a monarch sets an undesirable precedent. I hope we can come up with some less drastic plan.”
“What then?” Sav asked.
“Well, I want ideas from all of you on that. Ideally, we should find some way to hem him in and reduce his choices to those we want him to make.”
“How do you propose to do that?” Papa asked.
The emperor smiled. “My first choice would be to install you as a sort of chief advisor. One that he can’t ignore. The power behind the throne, if you will.”
Papa grimaced. “A shadow king.”
The emperor opened his hands, implicitly accepting the designation. “You know the land, the barons, and the problems. And you know how to rule properly.”
Papa squared his shoulders. “I never planned . . . Well, I suppose I had a hand in making this mess. It’s up to me to do what I can to clean it up. It’s certain Far Terra won’t survive long the way it’s going.”
Daughter of the Disgraced King Page 22