Madam Florian whimpered, and Rilla spun. The Vice Chancellor staggered back to the wall, one hand over her mouth, eyes wide and glistening.
The reporter’s eyes flashed. It was the same expression as when Ivan had revealed Rilla was a guest in the Palace. Her lips parted into a predatory smile. “Tell me, Chancellor Engel. Why would the wife of the richest man in Clement need to work here, and what is the nature of your relationship?”
Rilla gasped at the insinuation. She turned to see Madam Florian’s reaction, but the woman had pushed herself off the wall, baring her teeth and balling her fists.
“In the name of Cendrilla Perrault,” spat Madam Florian. “I command you to reveal the leader of your order.”
Rilla jumped up from Bruna’s bed. “Wait—”
But it was too late. As soon as Professor Engel opened his mouth, water poured from his brow. It soaked his nightshirt, the bedding, and pooled on the wood floor. Madam Hessen screamed and Rilla stepped back, breathing hard. More and more liquid emerged from the Chancellor, from every pore, every orifice. In seconds, all that remained of the man was a dried husk.
“You killed him,” yelled Rilla. She pointed at Madam Florian, who had backed into an alcove like a cornered rat. “You knew he’d die if you asked about his Order, but you did it anyway.”
No one in the room reacted. Not even the soldiers.
Rilla turned to Doctor Morgen. “That was murder, wasn’t it?”
“It was certainly interesting.” His voice was mild.
“Well, isn’t she going to be arrested?”
“No,” said Madam Hessen. “You heard what the late Chancellor said. People attached to noble families are protected no matter what they do. The usual course of action is for the wrongdoer to make a generous contribution to each witness.”
“I want no part of this blackmail,” said Rilla. “She has to face justice.”
Doctor Morgen stepped forward. “Your friend, Cadet Hulda, is useless to the Army. She doesn’t know her parents, and she’s now past marriageable age. Who is going to look after her?”
“I will.”
Madam Hessen scoffed. “You couldn’t even bail yourself out of jail. Make a demand of Lady Florian. Do it for your friend.”
Rilla looked around at all the people in the room. Apart from Madam Florian, whose face was frozen in apprehension, everyone else gave her encouraging smiles.
“I suggest you do as she says,” added Doctor Morgen. “If she’s lucky, Bruna will be moved to a convent hospital. When she wakes, her only options are begging or vice.”
Rilla swallowed. “I want you to use your influence to protect those accused of being magical. It just seems like it’s an easy excuse people make to abduct or control others. And I also want Bruna to have a permanent job here, like your clerk or a teacher.”
Madam Florian offered a shaky nod. “I will do what I can.”
A hand landed on Rilla’s shoulder. It was Madam Hessen. “You made an excellent point. I recall an ambitious young woman who accused a rival of being a witch, just so she could marry the richest man in Clement. I will make sure she complies.”
Madam Florian’s lips thinned, but she said nothing.
Rilla glared at the Vice Chancellor. For such a judgmental woman, she certainly had a lot of dirty secrets. “Can you delay your article for a day?” asked Rilla. “I have a plan.”
The Assembly Hall
Later that night, after Madam Hessen and her entourage had left, Rilla lay in the infirmary with her cot pushed close to Bruna’s. She held her hand throughout the night, hoping that the close contact would leach some of the power she’d taken from Professor Engel back to her friend. She wasn’t sure whether to tell Doctor Morgen about the silver torque that the Chancellor had used to steal life force. Although the doctor was innocent in the plot to abduct the women, he was still unsettling.
She wrapped her free arm around the satchel she kept hidden under the covers. Only someone well-versed in magical theory could translate the runes on the torque, but she was still thankful that Professor Engel’s bracelet had shriveled along with his body. Rilla closed her eyes and tried to sleep, promising herself to ask Lord Bluebeard about the runes the next time they met.
The next morning was bright, and sunlight streamed through the large infirmary windows. A faint scent of pine drifted into the room from small, glassless openings in the wall, which the Doctor claimed were good for airing the sickness out of the infirmary.
Bruna still lay in exactly the same position Rilla had left her the night before: flat on her back with her left arm crooked. Her hair fanned out on the pillow, and in the morning light, the thick streaks of grey looked more noticeable. Deep lines were etched on her face, and her cheeks and lips seemed thinner. Rilla sighed and sat up, thinking about the miller whose son had been turned into a goat. He decided to go straight to the Enchanted Realm for help. Perhaps this was something she could do with Bruna once she woke.
Outside, Rilla pulled her cloak around her, so that no one could see her face as she approached the Royal Assembly Hall. The plan was to confront Jacques while he was receiving a reward for the highest marks in the First Cadet class. She couldn’t forgive him for his part in the ambushes or attempting to usurp her position as top student. It irked Rilla to know that such a creature would go so far to ensure its survival, and she wondered which demented fairy would bring to life a puppet without instilling moral values into it.
Rilla walked past the walled orchard where she and Armin had spent that wonderful morning. A shiver of terror ran down her arms at the thought of her friend in the arms of that troll. She still had made no progress towards exposing the so-called Princess Olga. But she had to focus on her plan, and rescue Armin later. The Royal Assembly Hall was situated on the south side of the campus. Made of limestone, like all the other buildings in the Academy, it stood three stories high, with an arched doorway that could accommodate a dragon. In the mid-morning sun, its exterior seemed more like the alabaster used for monuments of noblemen’s tombs.
Her footsteps echoed on the marble paving stones that lined the vestibule, and she walked through the vast space, marveling at its vaulted ceilings. Atop each pedestal sat a statue of a former King of Clement. Many of them had features she recognized in Armin and his father.
At the double doors leading to the great hall stood the Chancellor’s clerk. His eyes widened, and he rushed toward her. “Miss Perrault. You must leave at once! The Lord Chief Justice is sitting in the back row with a dozen armed soldiers, ready to take you to the Cathedral to be wed.”
Rilla pursed her lips. Madam Florian must have informed the judge of her failure instead of sending out a search party for Rilla when she failed to appear after the assessment. There seemed to be no limit to that woman’s ingratitude and callousness. She turned and glanced over her shoulder. “Thanks for telling me.”
“Where will you go?” asked the clerk.
“I’m not leaving,” she replied, running out of the building.
There was a door at the side that led straight to the stage. Bending low, she crept around the building, so no one would see her enter. The voices within the great hall carried all the way outside.
“And now,” said Madam Florian, “I present the graduating student with the highest grade, Cadet Marcassin.”
Echoing applause streamed out of the window, and a pang shot through Rilla’s heart. It should have been Bruna accepting those accolades, not the cadet who led her false arrest. Even Professor Engel had admitted she was the best student in the Academy. It was so unfair that she’d been doomed to a shorter life, just because someone wanted to perform mindless experiments.
At last, she found the door, a large oak monstrosity with a carving of the Royal crest. She pushed it open, and strode through the stone hallway, listening to Marcassin drone on about protecting the Seven Kingdoms from the tyranny of magic. There was another door at the end of the corridor, and Rilla cracked it open.
&nb
sp; She was about to peer inside when a weight settled on her shoulder. She gasped and found herself spun her round to face a smirking Lord Bluebeard.
“A missive arrived this morning, telling me you had failed.” His eyes glinted like a sapphire catching the light. “It is time we wed, my dear.”
Rilla relaxed. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
He loomed closer, but Rilla didn’t flinch. “Don’t change the subject.”
She had no time to argue or fight with him, so she looked him squarely in the eye. “Did the bluebirds tell you what happened last night?”
He tilted his head to the side. “Most of it.”
“The person who set up that ambush and the dragon trap is here. I want to beat him bloody before he escapes.”
A broad grin spread over his face, making him look almost companionable. He let go of her shoulder. “Leave some for me.”
She grinned back. “I make no promises.”
Lord Bluebeard roared with laughter, and Rilla clamped her hand over his mouth. “Don’t let him know we’re coming.”
He nodded and she let go, turned, and allowed him to follow. In a few moments, Madam Florian would let him know she hadn’t failed. It was far easier this way, instead of bickering with him and possibly coming to blows.
Prince Marcassin finished his speech to a huge round of applause. Rilla took in a deep breath, unfastened her cloak and handed it to her betrothed, who took it without complaint. She opened the door and peered in. The heat of Lord Bluebeard hovering above her added to her nerves, but she tamped them down. She’d faced the crown court, a dragon, a life-stealing madman and she would face this crowd like the proud, strong warrior woman that she was.
Madam Florian stepped back to the podium, waiting for the noise to die down. She announced, “And now, the award for the best performing, non-graduating student.” The words sounded forced, and Rilla knew exactly why. “This student has persevered despite hardships to become the most promising cadet the Academy has had in years.”
The woman straightened while the audience clapped politely. Jacques strutted up to the stage and turned to the onlookers. Madam Florian paused and said in a loud voice, “Cendrilla Perrault.”
He stopped mid-swagger. “But she’s…”
“Dead?” Rilla strode up to the podium, her gaze fixed on Jacques. The young man shook like someone was jangling his strings. “Tell everyone what you were going to say. After all, you stole my grades and left me in the clutches of a lunatic yesterday.”
Chattering burst through the hall like wildfire. Rilla had to shout to be heard over the commotion. “And when you locked me up, I gave you the chance to release me, so we could defeat Professor Engel together, but you refused.”
“She’s a liar.” Jacques’ shouted. “Tell them, Freida.”
The haughty Princess stood and parted her lips, but Rilla spoke first. “Why don’t you tell everyone how you let Cadet Vern take the blame for luring me into a dragon pit?”
Freida’s eyes widened, her posture went slack. “Jacques! You told us to confess to poisoning Perrault and pouring alchemicals on her. How could you?”
The anguished expression on Freida’s face made Rilla straighten with vindication. Satisfaction hummed through her veins. Only one more thing would make this moment more perfect. While Jacques stuttered excuses to his former friend, she punched him so hard, he spun off the stage and crashed into the aisle.
“Jacques Dubois,” said Madam Florian. “You are under arrest for two counts of conspiracy to commit murder. Guards!”
Two soldiers sitting on the end seats stood, looped their arms under Jacques’ armpits, and dragged him away. His screams echoed through the hall.
“Take a seat, Perrault,” said Madam Florian.
Rilla pushed past the other woman and took the podium. “Ladies and Gentlemen, there are a few people I would like to thank. My friends, Cadets Dora and Autumn, who provided me with invaluable support during my hardest days. Dora offered me a bed when Madam Florian had me ejected from my own dormitory. I’ll always cherish that moment, because I was in dire need. You see, Madam Florian had threatened me with expulsion if I didn’t sleep in the very room she’d locked me out of.”
Agitated murmurs filled the room.
“I would say that Madam Florian and Cadets Vern and Hibern have been my greatest inspirations. Their continuous attempts to slander and alienate me led me to spend more time in the library than any other student. That, plus the sabotage and murder attempts spurred me to succeed.”
Freida sat shaking, her face purple. Rilla couldn’t even see Gwynter’s expression, because she’d ducked her head. With a barely repressed smile, she turned to examine Madam Florian’s expression and froze. She’d been so focused on Jacques and the audience, she didn’t even see the King, Queen, Armin and his two troll companions sitting on an elevated platform behind her on the stage. All thoughts of petty revenge evaporated.
Rilla reached into her bag and pulled out a stone. “Olga?” The troll glared in her direction. “Catch.”
The stone flew through the air, and the troll caught it. “What is the mean—”
Screams filled the air. People rushed out of their seats. Soldiers and newly graduated Cadets sprang to their feet and charged the podium.
“You!” rasped the Princess-troll. It leaped from the dais and sprinted to the side door, its companion rushing out after it. They headed towards Lord Bluebeard at the speed of charging elephants.
Rilla gave chase. “Stop them!”
Lord Bluebeard stepped aside, letting them escape.
“Thanks for nothing.” She reached the door.
“Diplomatic neutrality,” said Lord Bluebeard as she dashed past. “And it was underhanded of you to let me think we would wed today!”
“We’ll talk later!” she shouted over her shoulder.
By the time Rilla had cleared the door, the trolls were halfway across the lawn. With a surge of energy she’d never before experienced, she lengthened her strides and picked up speed. Her boots pounded against the grass, making almost as much noise as the escaping trolls. Rilla reached into her bodice and pulled out her staff. It sprang to combat size.
With a wide, two handed grip on her enchanted weapon, she leapt, hurling both herself and the staff on the trolls’ necks. They fell to the lawn with a loud thud, struggling under the weight of her staff. Two hard punches to the temple knocked them out.
The graduating cadets were first to arrive. They crowded around Rilla, staring at the unconscious trolls on the lawn. Most of them had probably never even seen such a creature.
“Make way,” said an imperious male voice. It was Prince Marcassin, the cadet who had usurped Bruna’s position as top student. He held an ax over his shoulder.
“You can’t behead them,” said Rilla. “We need to keep them alive for questioning.”
“Out of the way, upstart,” said the Prince. He wrinkled his upturned nose at Rilla, and when she didn’t move, he tried walking around her.
Rilla stepped in his path. “I’m not letting you kill them.”
Prince Marcassin grimaced. His incisors and canine teeth splayed out to the side, reminding Rilla of an angry hog. “So you’re allied with the trolls, now?”
She scoffed. “Hardly. These trolls have had access to Prince Armin for almost a month, and I want to know what they’ve been doing to him.”
“Well said,” exclaimed the King.
Everyone bowed and curtseyed at his appearance, including Rilla. “Your Majesty, is the Prince all right?”
“That is what I intend to find out. Guards, take these creatures to a safe room for interrogation. They must not be harmed.”
Prince Marcassin stepped forward. “But Your Majesty, the law states—”
“Silence,” snapped the King. “Your insubordination might be tolerated in Serotin, but I will not abide it here.”
The Prince’s face twisted into a scowl, and he turned a horrible shade
of porcine puce.
The King gave Rilla a gentle smile. “Lady Cendrilla, would you kindly remove your staff, so my men can transport the trolls?”
Rilla flushed. “Of course, Your Majesty.”
She lifted the staff and stepped back, allowing the guards to drag the unconscious trolls across the lawn. Their bodies created deep grooves across the grass. The King beckoned for Rilla, and she followed the procession.
“Let go of us,” said the troll whom Rilla guessed was Rocas Atholl. “Can you not see we are members of the Tundra court?”
The guards snickered. Rilla assumed the enchantment had been broken on both trolls, but she kept quiet, just in case. Atholl yanked its right arm down, making the guard who was dragging him topple over. It kicked at the falling man and twisted. But before it could break free, someone smashed an ax over its head. The troll fell back, limp.
“You are all under order not to damage them,” said the King. “Had that weapon been coated in Trollsbane, you would have been court-martialed.”
The Princess-troll made a guttural laugh. “Kill us. It doesn’t matter. We have what we wanted.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Rilla.
“Our comrades have captured all the witches in the Seven Kingdoms. Their power is ours.”
Rilla sucked in a breath, reached into her satchel and pulled out Marie-Anne’s rag doll. She hadn’t seen Lord Florian at all during the ceremony. Had he taken the captive women to safety, or had the trolls gotten to them first?
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Also by Cordelia Castel
Cendrilla: Book One of The Perrault Chronicles
As the clock ticks closer to midnight, can Cendrilla escape her enemies and put an end to the chaos?
The Academy (Perrault Chronicles Book 2) Page 22