Emily nodded. Alassa was nineteen and, by the laws of Zangaria, had been of marriageable age ever since she’d started to have menstrual cycles. The longer she waited, the greater the chance King Randor would find someone for her to marry, someone who might not make a great husband. And time wasn’t on her side. The low birth-rate of anyone who shared the Royal Bloodline meant Alassa needed to start trying to produce a heir as soon as possible, preferably before the barons decided to try to cause trouble again. King Randor might delay proceedings until the end of Fourth Year, but she doubted he would delay them much longer.
“I’ve been stupid,” Emily said.
“Far be it from me to disagree,” Imaiqah said, dryly. “Consider yourself lucky. My mother would have been furious if I’d acted the way you did.”
“Lady Barb will be, once she hears about it,” Emily said. It struck her, suddenly, that there might already be rumors spreading through the castle. Both Gaius and Melissa had seen her here in the library, obviously upset. “I don’t think I’ve treated her very well, either.”
“No, you haven’t,” Imaiqah said. She stood and paced over to the bookshelves. “But then, Alassa didn’t handle the matter very well. If she’d told you before the Faire started, you could have shouted at each other for a while, and then gone back to being friends. Or Jade...he could have told you, too.”
Emily sighed. “Is it wrong of me to wish I felt nothing?”
“It depends,” Imaiqah said. “Would you give up happiness as well as sadness, love as well as hate...?”
“You’ve made your point,” Emily said, quickly. “But it isn’t going to be easy to get used to it.”
“I seem to recall someone demanding to know why I went out with so many boys,” Imaiqah said, dryly. “Do you find that better or worse than Alassa courting Jade?”
Emily looked up. “Did you date Jade?”
“I try not to date boys who are more than a year or two older than me,” Imaiqah said. “Jade is...what? Five years older?”
That, Emily knew, wouldn’t be a problem. Alassa had been introduced to a handful of princes who were ten years older than her, while some of the others who’d sought her hand had been in their late fifties. Compared to them, Jade was remarkably close to her age. And he wouldn’t be motivated by either a lust for power or a lust for her personally. A trained sorcerer could have his pick of young women looking to boost their bloodlines.
And he likes her, Emily thought. That has to count for a lot, too.
“I owe Alassa an apology,” she said, as she stood. “Where is she now?”
Imaiqah didn’t bother to pretend to be surprised by the question. “In her rooms,” she said. “I don’t think she’s too happy, but at least she’s not hexing everyone in sight.”
Emily winced. Given what she’d said to Alassa, being hexed might be the least she deserved.
“Then we’ll go see her,” Emily said. “I need to talk to her.”
“You could wait,” Imaiqah said. “Talk to her tomorrow, when you’ve both had a chance to sleep on it.”
Emily shook her head. “I just want to get it over with,” she said. She hated the thought of fighting with her best friends. “Please.”
“Then I suggest you clean your face, first,” Imaiqah said. She produced a pocket mirror from her robe, and held it in front of Emily. “You look a mess.”
Emily sighed. She’d never been vain — if she hadn’t been cured of vanity years ago, living close to Alassa would have made sure of it — but Imaiqah was right. Her face was streaked with tears, while her hair had come loose and was hanging over her shoulders. And there were stains on her tunic.... Irritated, she wiped her face dry with a handkerchief, while Imaiqah helped clean up the dress. She might not look particularly regal, she decided, but at least she didn’t look as though she’d been crying.
“Let’s go,” she said.
Outside, the music seemed to have grown louder. She glanced at her watch, realized to her dismay that the dance had at least another hour before it could be brought to a close, and followed Imaiqah through the stone corridors. Emily half-expected to see Jade, standing guard outside Alassa’s door, but there was no sign of him. She couldn’t help being relieved; right now, Jade was the last person she wanted to see. Imaiqah knocked on the door, then held it open.
“I’ll see you both at breakfast tomorrow,” she said, as she pushed Emily inside. “And try not to turn each other into small, hopping things.”
Emily turned to glare at her, but Imaiqah closed the door in her face. Gritting her teeth, she turned and peered towards the bed. Alassa sat on the mattress, brushing her long golden hair with a gold-edged hairbrush, her blue eyes tired and wary. Emily felt a stab of guilt, followed by a bitter awareness that there was guilt enough for both of them. Neither of them had handled the situation very well.
She swallowed, unsure what to say.
“I’m sorry,” she said, finally. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you so badly.”
“I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” Alassa replied. “I owe you so much.”
Emily winced. Alassa had to have been having nightmares. If Emily had been feeling vindictive, she could have shattered the relationship, simply by bad-mouthing Jade to King Randor. The King would almost certainly have believed her and denied his daughter permission to wed. Or, perhaps, picked a husband himself and ordered Alassa to marry him before she returned to Whitehall.
She walked over to the bed and sat down next to Alassa, then wrapped her arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry,” she said, again. “I’ve been a right...”
“Pain in the posterior?” Alassa hazarded. “Or just someone who was caught by surprise?”
“I never realized,” Emily said. “Even when you were dancing together, I just thought you were trying to avoid dancing with others.”
“I wouldn’t want to dance with others,” Alassa said. “Jade’s just the right height for some of the more...interesting dances.”
Emily blushed. She’d learned the basic steps of formal dancing as part of her lessons in etiquette, but some of the more complex dances were as close as one could get to lovemaking in public without taking off one’s clothes. Emily had never felt comfortable enough to try them, as they left her feeling too exposed.
“I hope you two will be very happy together,” she said, finally. “But I wish you had told me ahead of time.”
“We planned to tell you after the Faire,” Alassa said. “But Jade thought you might have seen something earlier.”
“I didn’t,” Emily said.
“I’m sorry,” Alassa said. “I know you didn’t need the stress.”
“None of us do,” Emily said. She looked around the room, wondering — once again — if being a baroness was worth it. “Have you told your father?”
“My father hasn’t asked me any questions,” Alassa said. “I find that worrisome.”
Emily frowned. Alassa couldn’t lie to her father, not directly, while lying indirectly was very difficult. A couple of questions from King Randor could lay the whole affair out in the open for all to see. And yet, Alassa had told her the King had interrogated her when she’d returned after First Year. For him not to question her now...Emily puzzled over it for a long moment, wondering just what it meant. Randor was far more perceptive than Emily, and might well have recognized that Alassa had deeper motives for putting Jade forward as Court Wizard.
And if he didn’t ask her, she thought, he gets to maintain plausible deniability.
“I think he probably knows something,” Alassa said. “But he will have to decide soon if he wishes to encourage it or not.”
“I know,” Emily agreed.
She sighed, inwardly. Alassa was caught between two worlds; the restricted life of a princess, even a Crown Princess, and the unrestricted life of a magician. Logically, she could protect herself against everything from sexually-transmitted diseases to an unwanted pregnancy, but King Randor and his court wouldn’t see it
that way. Alassa could not be allowed to publically disgrace herself. And it didn’t matter, no matter how unfair it seemed, that royal princes had licence to fornicate as they saw fit.
Hypocrites, Emily thought.
But she saw the underlying logic. A bastard child with a whore could be acknowledged or denied at will, while a pregnant princess was much harder to hide. If Alassa became pregnant out of wedlock, she would either have to abort the pregnancy, which would make her a pariah if anyone found out, or give birth to a bastard. And that would be impossible to hide.
And she would also have to cope with being pregnant, Emily thought. And help rule the country at the same time.
She looked at Alassa, suddenly. “Have you slept with him?”
“I can’t,” Alassa said. “It isn’t something I can do before we get married.”
Emily nodded in understanding, although she could see advantages to getting pregnant before the wedding. If Alassa couldn’t have children with Jade, and it was quite possible she simply couldn’t have children at all, it would probably be better to find out before they were committed to one another. God alone knew how easy it would be for them to separate, given their position. Emily had a private feeling that quite a few of the aristocrats had been having problems with their wives. But then, all the men had to do was find a mistress and leave the legitimate wife at another estate.
“I’m very happy for you,” she said, as she rose. “And I will speak to your father for you, when the time comes.”
“I don’t know which way my father will jump,” Alassa admitted. “There are advantages to the match, but there are also disadvantages. The barons will mutter angrily because they didn’t get to marry me.”
“I won’t,” Emily said.
Alassa snorted. “You’re a girl,” she said. “You couldn’t marry me...but if you had a son, you might be angry on his behalf.”
Emily rolled her eyes. If she’d had a son, assuming she’d given birth as soon as it had been physically possible, he would be five years old by now. By the time he was old enough to wed, Alassa would be twenty-nine, perhaps older. The idea of convincing Alassa to wait ten years, losing the time she needed to give birth to as many children as possible, was absurd.
“On the other hand, the barons will all know that none of them got to marry me,” Alassa added. “That will keep them from uniting against one of their number. And, as Jade isn’t a foreigner prince, they can’t claim we’re threatening the independence of the kingdom. The only concerns they can raise is that Jade isn’t an aristocrat, but as he’s a combat sorcerer, that problem falls into nothingness.”
She sighed. “But, on the other hand, marrying Jade would take me off the marriage market,” she said, after a moment. “And several princes would feel slighted, feeling they’d been pushed aside in favor of a common-born sorcerer. They might cause trouble for father in the White Council.”
Emily frowned. “And he would reject your choice on those grounds?”
“Father swore to put the kingdom first,” Alassa reminded her. “If marrying his daughter to a common-born sorcerer threatens the kingdom, he won’t do it.”
“I see,” Emily said. “Suddenly, I’m very glad I’m not a boy.”
“Me too,” Alassa said. She smiled, impishly. “You’d make a funny-looking boy.”
Emily laughed, surprising herself. “I’m sorry for reacting so badly,” she said. Somehow, talking to Alassa had made her feel better, even though she still felt guilty. “And I will do what I can to make up for it.”
“Serve as a target for some new hexes I’ve learned?” Alassa asked. “I would be very appreciative.”
“No, thank you,” Emily said, quickly.
“I thought not,” Alassa said, although it was clearly a friendly comment. “But I don’t really blame you.”
“I’ll see you in the morning,” Emily said. She looked down at the floor for a moment, then back at Alassa. “And...and I do wish you both the very best.”
“I’ll tell Jade you’ve forgiven us, then,” Alassa said. “And Emily...”
Emily waited, lifting her eyebrows.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, either,” Alassa said. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right,” Emily said. The pain had faded to a dull ache, which she knew would go away in time. “See you in the morning.”
She stepped out of Alassa’s room and walked back to her own rooms. As soon as she was in the room, with the door closed, locked and warded, she lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Her thoughts, no matter what she did, were still a mess. It had been far too long a day.
Dismissing the thought, she felt the battery in her pocket, closed her eyes, and went to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“THERE’S A LETTER ON YOUR TABLE for you, your ladyship,” Janice said, as Emily stepped into the Great Hall. “I think one of the young men left it for you.”
Emily frowned. The Great Hall was almost empty. Most of the guests were either sleeping in after a night of hard dancing, or had gone straight down to the Faire. Only Jade, Alassa, Imaiqah, and Frieda were seated at the High Table eating breakfast. Emily felt an odd pang as she met Jade’s eyes, but told herself not to be stupid. There was nothing to be gained by shouting at him, too.
“Thank you,” she said.
A simple cream envelope lay atop her empty plate, she noted after she sat down next to Alassa. She checked it automatically — some letters she’d received at Whitehall had nasty spells attached — and discovered a privacy spell, but nothing actually harmful. Slitting it open, she discovered a note from Steven, apologizing for being called away at short notice. It must have been very short notice, Emily thought sardonically, as she placed the letter in her pocket, but she didn’t really mind. After last night, the last thing she wanted was a delicate conversation with Steven.
“Emily,” Jade said. “I’m sorry. I...”
“Don’t worry about it,” Emily said. She didn’t really want to talk to Jade, either. “I don’t have any grounds to complain about you and...Alassa. I hope you will both be very happy together.”
And not forget me, she thought, silently. Imaiqah had been right. No matter how she looked at it, a part of her felt abandoned. Alassa might not even return to Whitehall after Fourth Year, leaving her and Imaiqah behind. And who knew what would happen then?
“Thank you,” Jade said.
He looked relieved, Emily noted; beside him, Alassa gave her a reassuring smile. In hindsight, it was clear just how close she and Jade had become. And yet, Emily wouldn’t have to stop being friends with either of them, because of their relationship. She shook her head ruefully. Perhaps she should try and pay more attention to emotional undercurrents in future.
She sighed, knowing it wouldn’t be easy, and ate her breakfast as quickly as she decently could. There was nothing on her schedule for the morning, so she intended to see if she could sit down with Caleb and rewrite the proposal until she knew it backwards. Imaiqah intended to go back to the Faire and assist her father, while Alassa and Jade planned to explore on their own. At first, Frieda looked down at the table, but rather than seeming excited after Imaiqah asked her if Frieda wanted to go down to the Faire too, looked doubtful. Indeed, she seemed oddly subdued.
“I’ll take you there in the afternoon,” Emily promised. She didn’t know how long she’d have to spend with Caleb, but she had a feeling she would need a break afterwards. “Or we can go for a walk in the city.”
“Everyone will know you there,” Alassa reminded her. “Don’t forget to use a glamor.”
“I won’t,” Emily said, although she had her doubts. The paintings she’d seen of herself, scattered around the castle, were no more accurate than the paintings at Whitehall. They made her look like a brown-haired version of Alassa, complete with larger breasts and white dresses that called attention to her face. “You’d better do the same.”
“She will,” Jade agreed. “I don’t want too many peo
ple to recognize her.”
Emily smiled, then scribbled a note for Caleb, asking him to meet her in the workroom once he’d had breakfast. She passed it to a maid, who took it without hesitation, then smiled as she saw Markus entering the Great Hall. He looked tired, but there was a faint smile on his face that suggested he was pleased about something. Emily put it aside for later contemplation, bade her friends farewell and headed up to the workroom. Lady Barb was already there, sitting on a wooden stool and studying a set of notes.
“Emily,” she said. She looked tired, yet slightly amused. “Are you all right?”
Emily frowned. Lady Barb knew...of course she knew. “Did everyone know but me?”
“Probably,” Lady Barb said. She shrugged, expressively. “They were quite discreet, but you know how rapidly rumors can spread through Whitehall. I imagine most of the school knows by now.”
“I didn’t,” Emily said, crossly. “And...” She swallowed. “I said horrible things to Alassa last night. Things I should never have said. If Imaiqah hadn’t come to talk to me...”
“You might have lost your friend,” Lady Barb finished.
“Yeah,” Emily said.
“I don’t blame you for being shocked,” Lady Barb said, after a moment. “Or for losing your temper when you finally found out.”
“It was worse than that,” Emily said.
“I didn’t hear,” Lady Barb said. “There are advantages to the match, as you know. An infusion of fresh blood might be just what the Royal family needs.”
She rose to her feet. “But I suggest you concentrate on something else, for the moment. Last night could have been disastrous in many different ways.”
“The families could have gone to war,” Emily said.
“Quite,” Lady Barb agreed. She looked past Emily. “Good Morning, Caleb.”
“I thank you,” Caleb said, as Emily turned to face him. “I got your note.”
“I’ll leave the pair of you alone,” Lady Barb said, as she walked past them. “If you need to talk, Emily, I will be down at the Faire.”
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