“But it might,” Emily said. “Particularly if you talked up the inheritance rights.”
She smiled, although she knew it might not endure. On one hand, the daughter was a woman and therefore legally barred from holding land rights; on the other hand, she had the right to keep her dowry, which included the land rights. Anyone who wanted to take the lands, because she was a woman, would have to find a way to appease farmers who would be suspicious of setting a dangerous precedent. And their wives would be furious.
And maybe they would force their husbands to defend her, she thought. And turn their world upside down.
“I would like to stay with the original contract,” Muick said, stubbornly. “It is the only way to protect my daughter.”
Emily ignored him. “How many other contracts are there with similar provisions?”
“I know of thirty-seven,” Mister Clermont said. “Some of them have been scrapped, as the parties involved took advantage of this opportunity to change their minds. Others are still in force, but the actual marriages are several years off.”
And how many, Emily asked herself silently, were enacted without anyone knowing about it?
It was a chilling thought. On Earth, it had been easy to get news from right around the world; everything was instant, everything was immediate. But the Nameless World had fewer methods of instant communication — she thought briefly of the parchment in her pocket — and it could be months or years before news spread from village to village. It was easy to imagine all sorts of horrors, only a few miles from her castle, passing completely unnoticed by her.
“Then we will offer similar provisions for such marriages,” Emily said. It was a compromise, and not one she was comfortable with, but she had a feeling that things couldn’t be pushed much further. “It will cushion the effect of the laws.”
“But still call the king’s law into question,” Mister Darnel said. “I would fancy the matter should be put before the king.”
“You may do so, if you wish,” Emily said. It would be a brave man who tried, even if Emily hadn’t butchered countless people for daring to have ambitions of their own. King Randor could jump either way. “However, I have no intention of returning the law to its previous state.”
“Your decision is understandable,” Mister Clermont said.
Emily looked at Jack, then at Muick. “Is this acceptable to you?”
“It is,” Jack said.
“If there are protections for my daughter, then it is acceptable to me,” Muick said, after a moment. “That is all I ask.”
“I will have new contracts drawn up, then infused with magic,” Emily said. Buying Manaskol would be expensive, but it was well to have a supply of her own on hand. If nothing else, Mountaintop had taught her how to design her own magically-binding contracts that could be applied to anyone. “You will be bound to honor your word.”
“That would be suitable, Your Ladyship,” Muick said.
“Thank you,” Emily said, dryly. “I will have the contracts drawn up, then you will be summoned to sign them.”
She called for Bryon and had the four men shown out, then picked up a piece of paper and started to write out a basic contract. Zed had taught her that the more complex the contract, the more magic it took to enact the terms; she’d need to have Bryon and Imaiqah look at it before she wrote it out again, using Manaskol. The fewer loopholes she left in, by accident, the better.
“You handled that well, my lady,” Bryon said.
Emily looked up. Bryon had returned to the Great Hall.
“It wasn’t perfect,” she said. Perfect would have involved everyone agreeing that she was right, but nothing short of compulsion spells would achieve that. “There were just too many tangled issues.”
“That is true, but you managed to satisfy them,” Bryon said. “I do not think you could have handled it in any other way without betraying your principles.”
“I’ve compromised,” Emily said.
She shook her head. Compromise was one thing when it involved her, but quite another when it involved people she had never met. She would probably never meet any of the others involved in the whole affair, yet she’d meddled quite freely with their lives. And if she’d screwed up, she might have ruined their lives...
“I trust that preparations for dinner are well underway,” she said, instead. “There will definitely be a dance tonight.”
“The cooks are getting the meal ready now,” Bryon assured her. “There’s still three hours to go before dinnertime. Everything should be fine.”
“Then I will go to my rooms until food is served,” Emily said. She rose, feeling her back aching from sitting on the solid chair. “Call me if there’s an emergency, but nothing else.”
“Of course, Your Ladyship,” Bryon said.
Emily nodded, and walked towards the stairs, thinking hard. It was impossible to tell if she had done the right thing. The contract — the original contract — had been grossly immoral by her standards, but she was uneasily aware that the locals thought nothing of it. And, if Muick had been telling the truth, the contract was the only protection his daughter had. Emily knew, all too well, just how easily family could turn on family, particularly if there was money involved.
I suppose I will have to wait and see, she thought, tiredly. There was just time for a nap, if she used a spell to ensure she woke for dinner, after she had channeled yet more power into the battery. Tomorrow will come soon enough.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“MY GREAT-GRANDDAUGHTER IS LOOKING FORWARD TO her wedding,” Fulvia said, as the servants cleared away the tables so the dancers could move onto the floor. “It was kind of you to allow us to use the Great Hall.”
Emily sighed, inwardly. Two days had passed, two days during which the tension had kept rising, with the families sniping and snarling at each other. Two days when she had seriously considered ordering both families out of her castle, even though they would only take the dispute down to the Faire. Two days...
And two days until the wedding, she thought, sourly. And if they don’t come up with a plan before then...I don’t know what I’ll do.
“I’m sure she is,” Emily said, neutrally.
She cursed under her breath as the band started to play a lively jig. Lady Barb had sent a short note, warning that she wouldn’t be back for at least another week, while Sergeant Miles had sent a note of his own, stating that he would be unavoidably delayed. Emily had hoped — prayed — that one of them would reach the castle before the wedding, if only so she could beg for advice before it all hit the fan. What did it matter if she spent every free moment of next year in detention when two feuding families could rip apart her castle and kill hundreds of people in the crossfire?
“But she has been quite definitely avoiding her family,” Fulvia added, breaking into Emily’s thoughts and fears. “Is that normal for a girl?”
“How did you feel,” Emily asked, “when you were getting married?”
“Satisfied,” Fulvia said. “I had finally found my niche in life.”
Emily frowned, inwardly. On the face of it, the answer was outrageously sexist, as if a woman was fit to be nothing more than a wife and mother. And yet...no amount of browsing the records had turned up an answer to the question of Fulvia’s origins. Had she actually been born an Ashworth? If she hadn’t, she might have had very good reason to be satisfied when she’d married the former Patriarch. She would have moved from near-obscurity, like Gaius, to the very center of magical life.
“Melissa is young,” she said, finally. “Give her some time to grow accustomed to the thought of marriage.”
Fulvia’s face darkened. “It is my observation that giving youngsters time tends to result in problems.”
And the hell of it, Emily knew, was that Fulvia was right.
She couldn’t help a flicker of irritation as the bandmaster started calling the next dance. Jade was already leading Alassa onto the dance floor, followed by Imaiqah and a male
magician Emily didn’t recognize. Even Frieda had found a partner, a young magician from one of the smaller families, and was starting to dance with him. But Emily couldn’t find anyone, not if she wanted to keep her eye on events. Next time, she promised herself, she was damned if she was hosting anything, even a tiny party. Someone else could do the work and handle the nerves.
“Lady Emily,” Marcellus said. “I thank you for a wonderful dinner.”
“You’re welcome,” Emily said. She was sure he wanted something, but what? “My cooks will be pleased to hear that you liked it.”
“It is our intention to withdraw tomorrow morning,” Marcellus said, “if you will not take offense at our departure. We do not wish to be here when the wedding takes place.”
“Your consideration does you credit,” Fulvia said. Her voice was so dry Emily was sure there was a hidden meaning buried in her words. “You do not, of course, wish to witness a shift in the balance of power.”
“I would sneer, had I no sense of dignity,” Marcellus said. “I do not imagine that Gaius will shift the balance of power in any direction. Marrying him to Melissa is a waste of her potential.”
Fulvia shrugged. “Keep thinking that, if you like.”
Emily cleared her throat. “You will all be leaving?”
“We will decamp to the Faire tomorrow,” Marcellus said. “Tempers are already running high and the wedding, no matter how...unimportant, will only make them worse.”
“I see,” Emily said. If she hadn’t known about Markus and Melissa, she would have been relieved. Having the two families so close was hair-raising. But as she did know about them...what would they do, if they knew their time was about to run out? Run away? Confront their parents? Or split up? “I thank you.”
Marcellus gave her a wintry smile that said, very clearly, she owed him one.
“I thank you,” Fulvia echoed. “No doubt you will make us pay for the favor in due course.”
“No doubt,” Marcellus agreed. He bowed to Emily and smiled. “Do you happen to know where my eldest son is?”
Emily looked around the hall. There were countless Ashfalls in the room, including several cadet families with tangled links to the main branch, but there was no sign of Markus. She cursed under her breath as she realized there was no sign of Melissa either, only Gaius, who was wandering around looking lost and out of place. Emily would have felt sorry for him if she hadn’t known he’d passively accepted the marriage contract against the will of the bride.
“I imagine he’s wandered off somewhere,” she said, feeling the comforting weight of the battery in her pocket. “He may be exploring the battlements, or leaning on the balconies...”
Marcellus made a show of looking up. “I see no one on the balcony,” he said. “Do you not have a way of tracking people in your castle?”
“No,” Emily said. She was getting tired of answering that question. “I have no idea where he is, not right now.”
“Well, I dare say I will see him when I see him,” Marcellus said. He bowed again, and turned to leave. “And I thank you for your efforts, Lady Emily. It is nice to snipe without fear of death.”
Emily watched him go, feeling more than a little bemused. Marcellus seemed less inclined to do anything about the feud, apart from sniping at Fulvia. But some of the stories she’d heard, of bloody massacres and stealthy assassinations, suggested otherwise. Maybe he’d just thought he had to be on his best behavior at the castle, she told herself, finally. Or maybe he’d just enjoyed the chance to bicker more than yet another battle.
“He is right, of course,” Fulvia observed. “It is nice to snipe.”
“But someone might say the wrong thing,” Emily said. “And then you start a real fight.”
“A magician without the self-control to remain in control is a poor magician,” Fulvia said, primly. “And words cannot cause any true harm.”
Emily shook her head, mentally. Words could always cause harm, even if they didn’t inflict physical damage. She’d spent far too long listening to her stepfather telling her she was useless that part of her had believed it, despite all she’d managed to accomplish at Whitehall and Mountaintop. Beatings would have been kinder.
If nothing else, she thought sourly, I could have shown the bruises to the police.
She pushed the thought aside with an effort. Her stepfather was a dimension away, no longer a problem. She was free of him, free to build her own destiny as she saw fit.
“Lady Emily?” Fulvia said. “You’ve gone quite pale.”
“Just an old memory,” Emily said. She wasn’t going to confide in this woman, whatever happened. Fulvia saw people as pieces on a Kingmaker board, not living beings with their own thoughts and feelings. God alone knew what she’d do if she knew the truth. “And, if you will excuse me, I have duties to attend to.”
“The work of a host is never done,” Fulvia said. “Just make sure you find some time to chat with people, Lady Emily. You could make some new contacts here.”
And that, Emily knew, was good advice. But she’d never had the knack for small talk, let alone forming superficial friendships with people. All of her friends had met her by accident, even Imaiqah and Aloha. If she’d been assigned to a different room when she’d arrived at Whitehall, she might never have seen the relationship between Alassa and Imaiqah for what it truly was.
And you wouldn’t have made it better, either, she thought, as she walked around the edge of the hall. It would just have stayed poisonous...
“Lady Emily,” Gaius said. “I have been unable to find Melissa.”
Emily scowled for a moment before pasting a concerned look on her face. “I’m sure she’s fine,” she said, tartly. “You’ll see her at the wedding.”
“By tradition, we are supposed to lead the bridal dance,” Gaius said. “I need her here.”
Idiot, Emily thought, although she wasn’t sure if she meant Gaius or Melissa. The bridal dance was always held two days before the wedding, for reasons she suspected had something to do with fertility, and the prospective bride and groom were indeed meant to lead it. Where the hell is she?
“I’m sure she will be here when the dance starts,” Emily said. She rather doubted Fulvia would take it lightly if Melissa failed to show, embarrassing her right in front of the Ashfalls — and the rest of her own family, for that matter. “You’ll see her then.”
She glanced around the room, looking for Markus, but saw nothing. Was he with Melissa?
“It is really quite annoying when one’s bride refuses to talk to one,” Gaius continued. “How am I meant to get to know her?”
Emily fought down the urge to put her head in her hands. They were idiots. They were all idiots. Markus and Melissa, for developing a relationship; Fulvia and Marcellus, for continuing a pointless feud; Gaius, for assuming that Melissa would happily abandon her life to follow orders and marry him. How could anyone just assume that their sons and daughters would be happy to keep feuding unto the end of time?
“I think you should wait,” Emily said, crossly. She fought down the urge to just abandon the matter, to let the affair explode in their faces. “I’m sure she will be here for the dance.”
She turned and stalked towards the stairs, walking up to the balcony. Down below, she saw as she turned to look, Jade and Alassa were following a complicated set of dance movements, while Imaiqah and her partner were literally dancing on air. Several of the other magicians were doing the same, although Emily couldn’t help noticing they were only the ones who wore trousers. Everyone wearing a dress was remaining firmly on the floor. She smiled — she would never have the nerve to levitate herself in public, no matter what she was wearing — and then looked for Fulvia and Marcellus. The two family heads were standing at opposite ends of the hall, talking with their friends and allies. Emily couldn’t help noticing that Fulvia seemed to be issuing orders, while Marcellus was actually chatting in a friendly manner.
That seems to be their style, she thought, mordant
ly.
She looked for Gaius and saw him, talking to one of the maids. Her eyes narrowed — no more incidents had been reported, but wiping memories was easy if one knew the spell — then she relaxed as it seemed to be a friendly conversation. She shook her head tiredly, wondering just what Gaius would have to say to a maid, and turned and walked towards the library, where it had all begun. If Markus and Melissa were together, they wouldn’t have dared go too far from the dance.
Unless they wanted to embarrass their families, she thought. Would Gaius refuse to marry Melissa if she showed him up in public?
She gritted her teeth at the thought. Gaius might be humiliated enough to refuse to go through with the wedding, but he had plenty to gain and little to lose by marrying Melissa. It was unlikely his family would let him refuse, even if he wanted to walk away. And besides, Fulvia would be furious. Melissa could look forward to nothing, but painful or humiliating punishment for embarrassing the Matriarch in public.
Silly girl, she thought, as she reached the library door. Another aversion ward had been worked into the castle’s wards, neater than the last one. If Emily hadn’t known it wasn’t hers, she suspected she would have been fooled; anyone else would have thought it was her work and thought no more about it. But it was a major security problem, she knew; someone nesting their own wards within hers was a potential disaster in the making.
She shook her head, dismantled the ward with practiced skill and stepped into the library. Melissa and Markus were standing beside the bookshelves, kissing. Emily felt her cheeks flush as they jumped apart, fighting down the urge to look away. They weren’t naked, or even half-dressed, but she still felt embarrassed for intruding on a private moment.
“Emily,” Markus said. She couldn’t help noticing that he’d moved to cover Melissa, protectively. “What can we do for you?”
“You have a bridal dance,” Emily said, looking directly at Melissa. “What are you going to do about it?”
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