Daughter of the Disgraced King

by Meredith Mansfield

  Savyon blinked. It made a certain amount of sense. It was just so hard not to watch Ailsa, especially when she was with Jathan. Then again, how much did he really want to change that, to have Ailsa back? He nodded. “You’re right. I’ll try harder.”

  Princess Mayra’s look was unreadable, but he couldn’t call it pleased. “At least try to make it look like you’re not trying.”

  ~

  Ailsa and Jathan didn’t pause until the musicians took a short break after a half-dozen or so tunes. Before the music started up again, Perion joined them.

  “May I have the next dance?” Perion asked. At Ailsa’s dubious look, he added, “We haven’t had much chance to talk.”

  Jathan nodded and Ailsa spun out onto the floor with Perion.

  “I’m going to be tested for the Institute next week,” Perion said.

  Ah, that was why he wanted to talk. Ailsa had wondered. She smiled. “Papa told me. I’ll come to your testing if I can.”

  “Um. What’s it like?”

  Ailsa cocked her head to one side. “Nervous?”

  Perion swallowed and nodded once, sharply.

  Ailsa decided to take pity on him. “It doesn’t hurt or anything like that. It’s not something you can really prepare for, either.” She thought back on how she’d felt. “I think . . . I think the process depends a little on you not being prepared, actually. They want to see your natural reaction to different kinds of magic. They say that it sometimes takes a long time, because they have to test for each kind of magic separately. But the only tests I’ve seen were fairly quick.” She smiled. “They’ll almost certainly test you for a water mage first, since that’s what your mother is. They tested me for a heat mage first, because of Mama.”

  Perion breathed out. “Thanks. That helps, some. What if I don’t have any magic?”

  Ailsa leaned back a little to look at his face. “You can make a whirlwind, right?”

  “Sure, but—”

  “Then you have some magic,” Ailsa said.

  He swallowed. “What if it’s not significant?”

  Ailsa shrugged. “Then you can always attend the Academy, if that’s what you want. Everyone from the Institute also takes classes at the Academy.”

  Perion frowned. “I suppose.”

  “While you’re staying here at the palace, you could talk to Princess Mayra, too. She was recently tested as a healer mage.”

  Perion turned his head to where Mayra danced with Sav. “I didn’t know that. Maybe I’ll ask her to dance next.”

  Ailsa suppressed a smile. Maybe a little competition for Mayra would refocus Sav’s attention. She could hope, anyway.

  When the music stopped they were standing very near to Sav and Mayra. Had Perion planned that? Maybe she should have been paying more attention to where they were instead of just following his lead. Perion stepped away to ask Mayra to dance, leaving Ailsa facing Sav in the middle of the dance floor. She looked around for Jathan, but couldn’t see him right away.

  “Dance with me?” Sav asked.

  Ailsa hesitated. To walk off the dance floor leaving Sav standing there would draw attention. Somehow, that didn’t worry her as much as it would have just a few months ago. Then again, if there was anyone here who was less likely to cause a scene than herself it was unquestionably Sav. They needed to be able to work together, as friends. Surely a single dance was safe enough. She squared her shoulders. “All right.” As Sav took her hand, Ailsa looked down, watching their feet rather than Sav’s eyes.

  “You’ve been avoiding me,” Sav said.

  Ailsa looked up. Yes, too much to hope that he’d leave the topic alone, even here. “I told you it would be better if we didn’t try to talk for a while. Or only about business. What do you think of the emperor’s plan for Far Terra?”

  Sav’s lips thinned at her attempt to change the subject. “Are you still angry with me? I said I was wrong.”

  Ailsa resisted the urge to stop and walk away in the middle of the dance. She could feel her frustration rising again. At least there were no plants nearby to respond so frighteningly to her emotions. “That’s supposed to make everything all right? Just like that? You ask me to turn my whole life inside out for you and saying you’re sorry fixes it? It’s not that easy, Sav.”

  “What more can I do?” Sav asked.

  Ailsa let her breath out in a huff. “You could try listening to what I say. I’ve told you twice now to just give me more time. What do I have to do to get you to understand that?”

  “I’m sorry—”

  Ailsa stamped her foot, causing Sav to lose the rhythm of the dance. “Stop saying that! Try acting like it instead.”

  Sav struggled to pick up the dance again. “So you are still angry with me.”

  Ailsa sighed. A little to her surprise, she realized she wasn’t angry anymore. Hurt, yes. Certainly conscious—perhaps too conscious—of the new restraint that had grown between them. Frustrated and more than a little irritated to have her wishes so easily discounted. But not really angry. “No, actually, I’m not. But I’m not ready to just forgive and pretend it didn’t happen, either. That’ll take longer.”

  “How long?”

  She shook her head. “I really don’t know, Sav. I only know that it’ll take even longer if you keep aggravating me.”

  Gods! Sav looked like an injured puppy at that. But there really wasn’t any other answer she could give him.

  When the music stopped, Ailsa stepped away.

  Jathan appeared at her elbow as if by magic—if she didn’t know magic couldn’t do that. “Dance?”

  Ailsa drew in her breath and released it, looking between Jathan and Sav. “No, thanks. I think I’d rather take a solitary walk in the garden.”

  As she walked across the dance floor, she could almost feel two pairs of eyes following her. She really needed to get out of here for a while. The garden, and its green and growing plants, source of her magic, would help calm her.

  ~

  Jathan watched Ailsa until she was outside the big patio doors. His gut roiled to see her so upset. He turned to Prince Savyon. “What did you do to her?”

  Prince Savyon clenched his fists. “I didn’t do anything. And what business is it of yours, anyway?”

  Jathan moved to stand with his feet braced apart. “I’ll tell you what—”

  “Just stop it! Both of you!” Mayra said, glancing back over her shoulder first at the emperor and then at the doors through which Ailsa had just gone. “You don’t want Ailsa to come back and find you comparing . . . “ Her gaze swept up and down first Jathan and then Prince Savyon. “Whatever it was you were about to measure against each other. Do you?”

  Jathan swallowed and took a step back, unclenching his fists. “No, I don’t.”

  Prince Savyon looked toward the patio doors. “Neither do I.”

  “Good.” Mayra took Prince Savyon’s hand. “Then keep on dancing with me. You’ve come close enough to ruining everything for one night.”

  Jathan strode over to get a cup of wine punch. He took it out onto the balcony where he could watch for Ailsa’s return. This had gone on just about long enough. If he’d read things right over the last week, he didn’t have to worry about Prince Savyon as a rival, anyway. What he’d been waiting for had been some sign that she was over being angry with the Far Terran prince. He wanted Ailsa to choose him because she loved him, not because she was mad at somebody else. Maybe he’d waited just about as long as any of them could stand, though.

  ~

  The looping path brought Ailsa back around to the steps that would take her back up to the patio outside the ballroom. She looked up to see Jathan waiting for her at the bottom of the stone stairs.

  “Better now?” he asked.

  “Yes, thanks.” She smiled. “The garden helps.”

  Jathan grinned and winked. “Of course it does. You’re a green mage.” He squinted at her for a moment. “In fact, I think you need another turn around the rose garden. Wi
th me. There’s something I’d like to talk to you about. Preferably without interruptions.”

  Ailsa hesitated.

  Jathan threaded her arm through his and started toward the rose garden. “It’ll put off having to deal with Prince Savyon for a few more minutes.”

  Ailsa laughed. “It will, at that.”

  When they’d gone a little distance, Jathan licked his lips. “So, what did Prince Savyon do to you?”

  Ailsa sighed. “Tonight? Nothing really. Or nothing new. He just doesn’t know when to quit. I have to find a way to forgive him—if only because Far Terra needs both of us and we will have to work together. I need to try to be friends with him again. If he’d just leave me alone long enough, maybe I could.”

  “Just friends?”

  Ailsa glanced sidelong at Jathan from under her lashes. “There was a time when both Sav and I thought there might be more than that between us. Before he proved what a blind, selfish . . . idiot he can be. There’s no chance of that now.” She sighed. “Maybe there never really was. I think we were both . . . mistaken about what we felt. But Sav doesn’t want to accept that.”

  Jathan walked in silence for a few steps. “Well, we’ll be leaving for Far Terra before too long. Maybe—if you think it will help—I’ll ask Father to keep Prince Savyon here. That’d give you about two weeks completely free of him. Do you want me to do that?”

  Ailsa bit her lip and then nodded firmly. “Yes. It’s about the only thing that might actually work.”

  Jathan smiled. “Good. Then I will.”

  They reached the rose garden. Ailsa looked around her in disappointment. “The roses are out of bloom.”

  “I know. That’s why I picked it. There won’t be anyone else out here.”

  Ailsa swallowed. “So . . . what did you want to talk to me about?”

  “First things first. Are you about over being mad at Prince Savyon? It didn’t look like it earlier.”

  Ailsa stared at him then shrugged. “Pretty much. That doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven him, yet. Mostly, it’s just frustrating to have him continually saying he’s sorry without any sign of it in his behavior. Why?”

  Jathan took both her hands in his. “I wanted to be sure, before . . .” He cocked his head to one side. “We haven’t done any magic together for several days, now. Do you think we’ve waited long enough to satisfy your grandmother’s concerns about us?”

  Ailsa nodded almost holding her breath. Jathan leaned in and kissed her very gently and briefly. A tingling like the feeling she used to get before the great winds swept across the desert tickled her skin and was gone again.

  Ailsa blinked. She had to hold herself very still to keep from leaning forward to kiss Jathan again, longer this time. “Why’d you wait? I mean why’d you wait until I got over being mad at Sav?”

  Jathan shrugged. “Didn’t seem like trying to treat you as the rope in a tug of war or the prize in some contest was going to do anyone any good. Least of all you. Not that I wasn’t tempted to try to bash Prince Savyon’s face in once or twice, but I didn’t think that’d help either. Not in the long run anyway. Might have made me feel better for a minute or two, though. But I thought you had enough pressure to deal with. I thought you . . . I don’t know . . . I thought you deserved enough time to decide what you wanted.”

  Ailsa grinned. “How’d you get so smart?”

  Jathan laughed. “Watching my older stepbrothers make fools of themselves. Very educational. Sometimes amusing, too.”

  Ailsa laughed, trying to imagine Arrigo in a romantic mood. “I bet.”

  “So . . . let’s do this right.” Jathan drew her closer and wrapped his arms around her. He looked down into her eyes for a moment before bending his head to kiss her again. Ailsa’s skin tingled from her scalp to her toes. She was glad of Jathan’s arms around her because her knees suddenly felt like water. Jathan tasted like . . . like the sweetest berries, like fresh spring air after a rain, tinged with just a hint of the wine punch he must have drunk while waiting for her. Intoxicating, but there was no magic in this—or only the everyday sort that had nothing to do with mages and everything to do with love. Jathan’s lips parted and Ailsa’s opened under his. When his tongue brushed against the inside of her upper lip, fire shot through her veins and settled somewhere lower than her stomach. His tongue probed deeper. The fire spread outward again.

  Just before she felt like she’d burst into flames, Jathan pulled back. “Well? Do you think that’s only our magic? Or something else?”

  Ailsa swallowed. She had no doubts. If she’d thought kissing Sav was enjoyable, this was ten times better. More than that. “Something else. Definitely. Something very special.”

  His fingers traced gently along her cheekbone, spreading tingles in their wake. “Well, then, beautiful Ailsa, will you marry me? So that we can go on making magic—both kinds—for as long as we live.”

  Ailsa blinked. Everything was moving so fast again. Or maybe not. Maybe they’d both known this was coming for some time now. Still . . . “Jathan, I—”

  Jathan pressed his lips to hers again. This time, he allowed his magic to build along with the kiss. Ailsa’s magic followed his, growing along with her exhilaration, doubling it. When they paused for breath and she stepped back, the rose bush beside them had burst into bloom.

  Jathan laughed in delight. “Seems once we’re married we may not actually have to work much magic. We can just pitch a tent and . . .” He leaned forward again and whispered the rest in her ear.

  Ailsa blushed, suppressing an urge to giggle. He was assuming a lot. Though she liked the idea, too. “Jathan! Your stepfather would have you whipped for talking to me like that.” Not that she was going to tell.

  “Not to my bride he won’t.” He turned her capelet back on one side and buried his face in her neck. “My bride.”

  His kisses, dotting along her neck down to her collar bone almost robbed Ailsa of speech, even of thought. She placed her hand on his chest and pushed him back. “Jathan—”

  He frowned. “Don’t you want to marry me?”

  Ailsa drew in breath as if she’d just been drowning in that lake up in the mountains again. She wanted this to go on. Oh, she wanted that. But one thing still worried her. She was Far Terra’s green mage. She was going back. She’d keep going back. Did Jathan really understand what that meant? Born and raised in this greener world, could he stand the desert? Especially after what had happened to his father? Not to mention the difficulties and indignities King Ewart and his crony barons were sure to throw in their way, no matter how carefully the emperor planned. “It’s not that. I just . . . Not . . . not yet, Jathan. I’m still going to Far Terra.”

  His arms tightened around her. “I know. I’m going with you.”

  She swallowed again, tasting Jathan still. It almost stopped her from saying what she knew she needed to say. “I don’t want either of us to make promises we’ll regret later. I . . . if you positively can’t stand Far Terra . . . I don’t want you to feel you owe me anything. Wait until after we’ve been to Far Terra. Ask me then.”

  He pulled her closer. “It’s not going to change my mind. Nothing will.”

  “Just . . . I’ll feel better about it. All right?”

  Jathan took a step back. “If that’s what you want.”

  Ailsa clutched his arms. She knew that she was right about Far Terra, but she didn’t want to let Jathan go, even for a moment. “Um. That doesn’t mean we have to stop kissing, does it?”

  Jathan smiled. “Well, it does mean we have to set definite limits.” He kissed her again and then drew back with a sigh. “I think perhaps we’d better go back inside, now. Before things get out of hand.” He took her hand. “But this time I’m not going to let anyone else dance with you.”

  Ailsa grinned. “Fine by me.”

  Chapter 25: Preparations and Setting Out

  Ailsa went to observe Perion’s testing whenever she could. His was the first testing she’d observed that w
ent on for days. He wasn’t a water mage, as he’d hoped. They’d established that on the first day. He wasn’t a green mage, either, not that anyone had really expected that. Yet the new master seemed convinced that he not only had magic, but a significant talent. It was a puzzle. After several days, Perion’s testing was suspended briefly, both to give everyone—especially Perion—a rest and to allow the master to research Perion’s genealogy more carefully.

  Ailsa was prevented from trying to distract Perion from his troubles when both Mama and Grandmama insisted on some additions to Ailsa’s wardrobe, particularly a new ball gown for the Winter Ball in Far Terra. The plan was for Ailsa to wear mostly her old clothes—not the green that proclaimed her magic to the world—until the ball. This gown—and her actions at the ball—would declare her magic to the king and his barons as dramatically as possible, so it had to be a gown that would arrest their attention. That meant another visit to the seamstress, Chara.

  The old woman’s eyes glittered as they described what was wanted. “It will be the Winter Ball, yes?” The old woman grinned and began searching through her various bolts of green cloth.

  Mama pulled out a bolt of emerald green taffeta. “How about this?”

  Chara turned to peer back at Ailsa. “Not emerald. Totally wrong for her coloring.”

  “But it needs to be vivid,” Mama said, still holding the bolt.

  “No,” Chara said, taking the bolt and putting it back. “She has to make an impression. They need to see her, not the dress. Emerald is wrong for her. But this . . .” She pulled out a bolt of jade green velvet and held it up to Ailsa’s face. “This will suit her very well. Trimmed with white and silver, I think.”

  Ailsa stroked the smooth velvet. “Oh, yes.”

  “Now, the style. What is it you want to accomplish with this gown? Eh?”

  Mama huffed. “I thought we’d established that.” She gestured to Ailsa’s short stature. “Somehow, we have to make her impressive.”