Fists of Justice (Schooled in Magic Book 12)

Home > Other > Fists of Justice (Schooled in Magic Book 12) > Page 5
Fists of Justice (Schooled in Magic Book 12) Page 5

by Christopher Nuttall


  “Just under two years ago, Caleb came to us – his parents – to request our blessing for a Courtship,” Sienna said. “We discussed the matter at great length before agreeing, provisionally, to grant him our blessing. You were a child of many worlds, the daughter of a great sorcerer as well as a great noblewoman in your own right. Caleb’s decision to court you carried risks.”

  “Not that many,” Emily said.

  “You might have rejected him, which would have been a blow to his pride,” Sienna said. Her face flickered with droll amusement. “And if you’d done it publicly, it would have embarrassed the family and turned us into laughing stocks. But even if you didn’t, Emily, it ran the risk of entangling us with the affairs of your father and Zangaria. We seriously considered denying Caleb our blessing because of the risk of being dragged into politics. My dear grandfather would certainly have been concerned about the danger.”

  Emily swallowed, hard. “Your grandfather?”

  “The Patriarch of House Waterfall,” Sienna said.

  She shook her head, holding up a hand to stave off any further questions. “We consented to the courtship, Emily, because we believed the risks could be managed. Caleb is – was – a second son. His marriage is understandably of personal importance, but not particularly important to anyone outside the immediate family. We could have disowned him if things had threatened to get out of hand.”

  Emily stared at her. “You would have disowned your son for marrying me?”

  “Not for marrying you,” Sienna said. “For dragging us into a political morass. I believe your friend Markus was disowned for similar reasons.”

  “Yeah,” Emily said.

  She kept her thoughts to herself. She’d never thought about it like that before - she wished she didn’t have to think about it now. It wasn’t something that made her feel comfortable.

  “Things have changed,” Sienna said. It was an understatement. “Caleb is now my heir. A year ago, I would have said there was no hope of him succeeding my grandfather, but…things have changed. If he marries you, Emily, he’ll be in a very strong position indeed. And yet, there is your current…disagreement with King Randor. Where, exactly, do you stand?”

  “I chose to leave,” Emily said, stiffly. She needed time to think – and, perhaps, discuss the matter with Caleb. “I am no longer the Baroness.”

  “You are, even if you’re in exile,” Sienna corrected.

  She sighed, heavily. “You entered into the courtship on the understanding that you were going to be marrying a second son. Caleb was not expected to inherit anything beyond a small legacy. You may, if you wish, back out now. No one would blame you for taking a moment to reassess your position.”

  Emily met her eyes. “Do you want me to marry Caleb?”

  “I want you to be aware of the problems facing you,” Sienna said. It wasn’t an answer. “And there is a further problem. There are already rumors that you deliberately killed Casper to clear the way for your boyfriend.”

  Emily felt a flash of hot temper. “I did not!”

  “If I thought otherwise, young lady, we would be having a very different discussion,” Sienna said, dryly. “But people will talk. If you were to marry Caleb – and he were to become Patriarch of Waterfall – you’d be combining magical and aristocratic power to make a formidable power base. Even if he didn’t become the formal Patriarch, he’d be in a strong position to steer family affairs from behind the scenes. And you, behind him, would be pulling the strings.”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” Emily said. She felt her magic rising with her temper and ruthlessly forced it down. Sienna could probably sense it already. “Do you want me to marry Caleb?”

  “What I want doesn’t matter,” Sienna said. She looked down at the wooden floor. When she spoke, there was a hint of pain in her voice. “Emily…for people like me…like us…marriage is rarely a matter of personal choice. We make the matches that suit our families and hope that love blossoms. I’ve known girls and boys who were broken-hearted because they couldn’t marry the people they loved, or were disowned after they eloped. I was the youngest daughter of the youngest son, and yet I had to argue for weeks to convince the Patriarch to bless my marriage.”

  Emily frowned. Alassa had said much the same, when she’d been preparing to meet her first set of potential suitors. She’d even admitted that her father might pick one of the young noblemen who’d traveled to Zangaria, dismissing whatever concerns Alassa might have about the match. Emily hadn’t been able to understand it, not really. Alassa was the Crown Princess – and she would be Queen, in time – but she didn’t have much choice about who she married. It had been sheer luck that she’d remained unmarried long enough to start a proper relationship with Jade.

  And yet, it wasn’t something Emily wanted for herself. She liked Caleb…she even loved him. She simply didn’t know enough about love to be sure of what she was feeling. The idea of outsiders discussing her marriage, even trying to manipulate it, was horrific. She had no intention of trying to use the match as part of a stealth takeover of House Waterfall…

  But they have reason to worry, she thought, grimly. Fulvia might well have gotten started that way too.

  She looked down at her hands, studying the ring Void had given her. It sparkled under the light, magic glittering against her pale skin. Was it fair to ask Caleb to give up his family for her? She wouldn’t give up Lady Barb and Void for anyone, even Caleb! And she didn’t want to give Caleb up either. And…

  “You married a mundane,” she said. She touched the snake-bracelet with her fingers, tracing out the scaly pattern. “Doesn’t that…”

  Sienna’s face darkened. The magic level jumped, sharply. An insult ... she’d given Sienna an insult. For a moment, Emily was sure Sienna would throw a curse…or simply slap her ... before Emily could even formulate an apology.

  “I would not have married him if I hadn’t felt he was a good person,” Sienna said. Her voice was icy cold. “And my grandfather would not have approved the match if he hadn’t felt that Pollack would bring something to the family.”

  She met Emily’s eyes. “And someone less forgiving than I would have taken that as a challenge to a duel,” she added. “Dueling champion or not, I suggest you learn to watch your tongue.”

  “I’m sorry,” Emily said, quickly.

  “So you should be,” Sienna said. “I would have been thrashed to within an inch of my life if I’d said that at your age.”

  She gave Emily a sharp glance. “Your father neglected a very important part of your education, young lady. Etiquette is what keeps us magicians from tearing ourselves apart.”

  “My father was always more interested in magic,” Emily said. Sienna didn’t know – couldn’t know – the truth. Explaining that she’d come from an alternate world would have stirred up questions that she couldn’t begin to answer. “Much of my education came from the servants.”

  Sienna sniffed in disapproval. “Servants are not good tutors for young magicians,” she said, shortly. “They are rarely versed in the background required to teach properly.”

  She shrugged. “You’re here for a couple of weeks, before the three of you go back to Whitehall,” she said. “I suggest that you spend some time considering what I told you. If you and Caleb wish to proceed with the courtship, you may do so with your eyes wide open.”

  “Thank you,” Emily said.

  She sat back, feeling oddly drained. It wasn’t the worst conversation she’d ever had, but it was definitely the most embarrassing. And it was almost surreal. What sort of choice was she supposed to make? The idea of tying herself down, at twenty-one, was terrifying. And yet, she was part of this culture now, for better or worse. She promised herself, silently, that she would write to Lady Barb – and Void – asking for advice. Maybe she could ask Sergeant Miles too. He’d have a different perspective on everything.

  And Sergeant Harkin too, if he’d survived, she thought. She felt a pang of guilt. The s
ergeant would have been very disappointed in her, if he’d realized her mistake. I wish I’d had a chance to thank him for everything.

  Sienna rose. “I’ll take you to your room. Caleb and I will be having a long talk this afternoon, then I’ll be taking him to the temple. I suggest you catch up on your sleep. Karan will be downstairs if you need anything. Everyone else will be going out.

  Emily glanced at her watch. It was early afternoon.

  “I don’t know how long I’ll sleep,” she said. She felt tired, but going to sleep now would only make it harder for her to sleep in the evening. “Do we have the run of the house?”

  “Stay out of the bedrooms and any room that’s warded closed,” Sienna said. She motioned for Emily to follow her. “There’s a small collection of books in the living room, including a couple that were passed down from my great-grandfather. You might like them. Or you can ask Karan for anything she might have.”

  “I understand,” Emily said.

  Sienna gave her an unreadable look. “I am aware this isn’t easy for you. Just bear in mind that it isn’t easy for anyone else either.”

  “I know,” Emily said. “I am truly sorry Casper was killed.”

  “So am I,” Sienna said. She looked older, just for a second. “I always knew there was a possibility that he’d die, but I didn’t want to believe it. None of us did. And now…his death has opened up a whole new can of worms. And we have to deal with them now.”

  She shook her head. “Come with me.”

  Emily rose and followed her through the doors and up a narrow flight of stairs. It was so narrow that Emily doubted a large man could get up the stairs without getting stuck. She thought of the servant corridors in King Randor’s castle, the tiny passageways intended to keep the servants hidden from their lords and masters. She’d used similar corridors to sneak around at Whitehall.

  She glanced up at Sienna. “Do you have any servants?”

  “I have a cook and a maid,” Sienna said, briskly. “They work regular hours and live outside the house. The maid is not there to help you with your hair. I’ve had to make that point clear to both the girls, regularly. It never seems to sink in.”

  They reached the top of the stairs and walked down a short corridor. “This is your room,” Sienna said, as they reached an unmarked wooden door. She knocked smartly and waited. “You’re sharing with Frieda. Remember what I said – do not invite Caleb into the room.”

  “I won’t,” Emily said.

  “And don’t go into his room either,” Sienna added, sharply. The door swung open, revealing Frieda. “It’ll just get you both in hot water.”

  “I understand,” Emily said. She couldn’t help feeling annoyed. She’d missed sharing a bed with Caleb. It was hard to believe, now, that she’d ever been reluctant to let him do more than kiss her. “Did my bag get sent up?”

  “It’s here,” Frieda said.

  “Have a good nap,” Sienna said. “I’ll see you at dinnertime.”

  Chapter Five

  “SO,” FRIEDA SAID, AS SHE CLOSED the door. “I’ve been told I have to set some ground rules.”

  Emily scowled at her. “And who told you that?”

  “Lady Barb,” Frieda said. She winked. “You don’t want to argue with her, do you?”

  “I also happen to know she’s not here,” Emily said, wryly. “Do you get to set the ground rules?”

  Frieda looked embarrassed, a hint of a blush on her face. “This is serious,” she said. “Emily…”

  Emily resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Frieda was no more a part of the city’s culture than she was. Her upbringing in the mountains hadn’t taught her how to comport herself in the big city. She would have been married off by now, if she’d lived long enough to grow into womanhood. Only the discovery of her magic had saved her from a life of total obscurity.

  She looked up, inspecting the room. It was small, smaller than her bedroom at Whitehall, but larger than the one she’d shared with Lady Barb nine months ago. A pair of beds, no larger than the bed on the ship, reclined against the wall; a small dressing table, complete with a mirror spell on a reflective surface, was positioned neatly under the window. Someone – probably Sienna – had carved out a set of runes around the window frame, each one configured to uphold the household wards and keep intruders from breaking in. They wouldn’t be enough to keep her from forcing the window wide open, she thought as she walked to the window and peered out, but they’d probably make it impossible to sneak in and out of the house without triggering the wards. The street below was so busy, she doubted anyone could climb up without being noticed.

  Frieda cleared her throat. “Emily, Lady Barb was serious.”

  “I know,” Emily said. She felt a flicker of amusement, mingled with annoyance. It was nice to have someone looking out for her, but did Frieda have to be so overbearing? “I won’t do anything with him under this roof.”

  “People will talk,” Frieda pointed out. “You have to be careful.”

  Emily smiled. Frieda had grown up in a village where everyone knew what everyone else was doing. There was no real privacy, even for married couples. A pair of teenagers couldn’t find time to themselves without being caught and punished. She couldn’t help wondering, as she had the first time she’d visited the Cairngorms, if a particularly devious suitor sometimes set out to entrap a girl into marrying him. It didn’t have to be a boy, either. A girl could easily try the same trick.

  “I’ll be careful,” she promised. She turned and picked up her bag. She’d only brought a couple of outfits, neither of which were really suitable for city life. “Did Lady Barb send some clothes, too?”

  “There’s a trunk under the bed,” Frieda said. “I have orders to take you to a dressmaker if they don’t fit.”

  “Thank you,” Emily said. Lady Barb wouldn’t have opened her trunk at Whitehall, even if it hadn’t been heavily warded. No one, not even Grandmaster Gordian, would have broken that taboo unless he saw no alternative. “What else did Lady Barb say?”

  She opened the trunk and dug through the small collection of clothes as Frieda spoke. “Just that you have to respect the family’s mourning period,” she said. “And that you should take part in their ceremonies, even if things don’t work out. And that I have to behave myself.”

  Emily looked up and smiled. “My, what have you been doing?”

  Frieda smiled back. “I…um…I managed to catch Master Tor in one of my spells, back when I was playing Freeze Tag,” she admitted. “He was not amused.”

  “Oh dear,” Emily said. She tried hard, very hard, not to giggle. “I imagine he was furious.”

  “He was,” Frieda said. “I would still be in detention if I hadn’t been summoned here.”

  “Ouch,” Emily said.

  She pulled a dress and a set of undergarments from the trunk and placed them on the dressing table, then poked her way through the rest of the trunk. A small bottle of contraceptive potion she doubted she’d have a chance to use, a notebook and set of pencils…and, buried right at the bottom, a collection of books and a short note. She picked up the note and read it, then glanced at the book titles. Lady Barb expected her to have them read from cover to cover before she returned to Whitehall.

  “They’re for your studies,” Frieda said. She looked doubtful. “You’ll have to work hard to catch up.”

  “There goes my summer,” Emily said. Sergeant Miles had promised to help her study over the summer, if she needed to retake her end-of-year exams. She’d hoped to be able to explore more of the Nameless World, but exams came first. “Do you know what you’re doing for summer?”

  “I’ve put my name down for work experience,” Frieda said. For a moment, she looked agonizingly young. “I don’t know if I’ve been accepted yet.”

  “I’m sure you will be,” Emily said, reassuringly.

  She put the books on the dressing table, then closed the trunk and shoved it back under the bed. Technically, she knew she should have lock
ed it with magic, but there was nothing particularly valuable inside. Besides, she knew from Lady Barb that some household wards reacted badly to locking spells. It would be better to check with Sienna before doing anything that might provoke a reaction.

  “I need a nap.” She also needed a wash, but she was too tired. “Will you be all right here?”

  “Of course.” Frieda tapped her own trunk. “I’ve got schoolwork too.”

  Emily nodded as she checked the door. The wardspell was simple enough, keyed to bar men – and only men – from touching the handle and opening the door. The maid would have no trouble entering the room, if she dared. Emily wouldn’t have cared to work in a magician’s house, particularly when the magician’s older children would be using their magic to keep intruders out of their domain. Touching the wrong thing, even in perfect innocence, could get the maid turned into a frog. She grimaced at the thought. The games students played at Whitehall were less amusing when played outside school.

  She undressed rapidly, then climbed into bed and closed her eyes. It felt odd to lie in an unmoving bed, after five days on a sailing ship. She told herself she would get over it and concentrated on her mental discipline. She didn’t expect sleep would come easily – she’d never found it easy to sleep in a new place, at least for the first few days – but it would come. She heard Frieda opening her trunk just as the darkness rose up and overwhelmed her…

  A hand touched her shoulder. She jerked up, one hand raised to cast a spell. Frieda jumped back, raising both of her hands in surrender. Emily caught herself, and sat upright in bed, shaking her head in annoyance. The light pouring in through the window was dimmer, somehow. It had to be dusk.

  “It’s dinnertime,” Frieda said. “Did you sleep well?”

  Emily shook her head. She hadn’t dreamed, and she felt as if she hadn’t slept at all. Her body felt tired and grimy. She swung her legs over the side and stood, her legs wobbling as if they expected the floor to shift under her weight. It took her a long moment to remember that she was no longer on the boat, that the floor wasn’t going to be rolling back and forth…she rubbed her eyes, tiredly. The sooner she got over the last few days, the better.

 

‹ Prev