Love's Labor's Won

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Love's Labor's Won Page 36

by Christopher Nuttall


  “I understand,” Emily said. She wanted to demand to know, one final time, why the feud had even started. What did Fulvia know that she wasn’t telling? But she knew she would get no answer. “I thank you for attending the Faire.”

  “Child of Destiny, they call you,” Fulvia said. For a moment, she actually sounded her age. “I hope they will not say that this—” she waved a hand to indicate the wary families “—was destiny, too.”

  She bowed, turned away, and walked out. Emily watched the rest of the family follow her, some more hesitant than others. She couldn’t help noticing the thoughtful look on the Patriarch’s face, as if he was finally looking at his mother in a darker light. God alone knew what that would do, in the future. Would he start questioning Fulvia...or would he demand his power by right?

  “We, too, shall take our leave,” Marcellus said. “You could not be too displeased, Lady Emily, with the outcome.”

  Emily sighed, inwardly. Fulvia had been humiliated in front of her entire family — and her traditional enemies. She would not be allowed to forget it, not if there was anyone else with a spine within House Ashworth. It was quite possible that one of the others, perhaps her son, would mount a challenge to her power. Marcellus, for the price of disowning his eldest son, had the pleasure of watching Fulvia’s humiliation. And, perhaps, the beginning of the end for his rivals.

  “Do you know,” she asked finally, “just what caused the feud?”

  Marcellus shrugged. “My father told me that Lady Fulvia insisted her husband force certain members of the family to accept her as Matriarch,” he said. “They were made to swear an oath to regard her as having been born an Ashworth. The younger brother, utterly outraged, left...and took half the family with him. Or so I was told.”

  “No one will ever know,” Markus predicted.

  His father ignored him. “I thank you for your hospitality, Lady Emily. And I shall hope to see you again, sometime.”

  He bowed, and left the room. Emily watched him go, then felt the ward collapse into nothingness. It had held out just long enough...

  Good thing they didn’t challenge it, she thought. It would have broken the ward sooner rather than later.

  No one seemed to have much stomach left for dancing, she noted, as the room emptied rapidly. Most of the guests were probably going to spread the word to the rest of the world, starting with Fulvia’s humiliation and ending with even more tall stories about Emily’s power. But this time...at least it wasn’t the nuke-spell.

  “Thank you,” Markus said. “But we, too, must leave.”

  “You can stay here for the rest of the summer, if you like,” Emily said. “I dare say I will have the space to accommodate you.”

  “Thank you,” Melissa said.

  Emily watched them go before she sat down and watched the last guests leave the room. Jade and Alassa had vanished long ago; Alassa would be fuming at having missed the confrontation, but it was definitely for the best. She couldn’t see Frieda or Imaiqah, so she hoped they’d had the sense to leave, too. It could have ended very badly.

  “Lady Emily,” Master Grey said. He strode over to her, his eyes fixed on her face. “I did not know you could cast such a ward.”

  “It took practice,” Emily said, shortly. She felt too tired and drained to engage in a battle of wits. “What can I do for you?”

  “Tell me something,” Master Grey said. “Did you know they’d become lovers?”

  “Yes,” Emily said.

  “Then you should have sent them home,” Master Grey said. “Instead, you...just waited for disaster. Or did you plan to show off your power at the Faire?”

  Emily shook her head.

  “You could have started a fight that would have wiped out far too many magicians,” Master Grey said. The cool contempt in his voice stung more than Emily cared to admit. “You’re a child of chaos, not of destiny.”

  “Sometimes,” Emily said. In hindsight, maybe she should have denied everything. “I thought it could be used to end the feud.”

  Master Grey snorted. “I’ve been training apprentices for years, Lady Emily, and I have never had one of them do something so stupid,” he said. “None of them would have risked the lives of hundreds of people in hopes of ending a feud that has taken on a life of its own. You’re a danger to everyone around you.”

  Emily gritted her teeth, but said nothing.

  “And I also want you to know,” Master Grey added, “that what you did was the most thoughtlessly arrogant piece of madness I have seen in my entire life. Your father would be proud.”

  He turned and walked away, not looking back.

  Emily stared after him, feeling her heart pounding. She would have liked to deny it, but she knew he was right.

  But what else could she have done?

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  THE CASTLE FELT EMPTY THE FOLLOWING morning when Emily rose from her bed. It took her a moment to remember that both the Ashworths and Ashfalls had left, along with half of the other guests. She sighed, rubbing her eyes, and turned her attention to the remains of the battery, which she’d dumped on a table before going to sleep. The ring was charred and broken, while the valve had shattered. It was clear that channeling so much power while trying to regulate the flow of magic had proven to be too much.

  But at least it proves the concept, she thought, as she used a spell to reduce the remaining components to dust. I can produce more, if necessary.

  She stepped into the bathroom, washed herself hastily, and pulled on yet another blue dress, before looking at herself in the mirror. Her eyes looked haunted, but she didn’t look too tired. She briefly wished she knew more about makeup — if she went down to breakfast looking fresh and well, it would terrify magicians who knew how much power it should take to produce a ward — before dismissing the thought. Makeup was rarely worn in the country, outside whores and actresses. Who knew what people would have thought if they’d seen her painting her face?

  Whore, she thought, remembering Gaius screaming at Melissa. Or worse.

  There was a knock at the door. Emily concentrated, checking the wards she’d hastily rebuilt to protect her room, and opened the door with a flicker of magic. Outside, Janice stood next to a far younger maid, who quailed when she saw Emily. She’d been the one who, in all innocence, had pointed Gaius to the library. Emily gave her a questioning look before she glanced at Janice.

  “Joan has something to say to you, my lady,” Janice said, sternly.

  Emily looked at Joan, who lowered her eyes. “It was my fault, my lady,” she said. “I didn’t realize they were in there together.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Emily said. She hadn’t thought to tell the servants not to say a word either, although she should have done. Joan hadn’t known that Markus and Melissa had been making out in the library. “Really.”

  Joan stared at her. “But I...”

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Emily said, tiredly. If there was anyone to blame, it was Fulvia, Gaius, Markus and Melissa, not a random maid. “Please go tell Markus and Melissa that I would like to see them in the Blue Room when they’re up and dressed.”

  Joan bobbed a curtsey, and hurried off.

  “She’s new,” Janice said. “She didn’t know there might be a problem.”

  “It worked out in the end,” Emily said. She’d be having nightmares, she suspected, about what would have happened if it hadn’t worked out. “Tell her not to worry about it.”

  “She was so fearful of being sacked,” Janice said. “Or worse, perhaps.”

  Emily shrugged. It was unlikely she could do anything worse than Baron Holyoake.

  “Make sure she doesn’t worry about it,” she said, finally. “I’ll be down in the Blue Room in thirty minutes.”

  It was nearly an hour before Markus and Melissa were shown into the room. Emily smiled at them both, indicating the chairs facing her with a wave of her hand. They’d clearly been enjoying themselves, now they could share a room openly
; their faces were beaming with contentment and they were standing too close together, as if they couldn’t keep their hands off one another. She just hoped it would last, when the strain of being cut off from their families finally started to bite. But, perhaps, she thought she had a solution to their problems.

  “I received a formal note this morning, confirming that I’ve been disowned,” Markus said. “My brother will be the Heir.”

  “My sympathies to your family,” Emily said, dryly. She recalled Markus’s brother far too well. “And to you, too.”

  “Don’t be sorry for me,” Markus said. “It feels oddly liberating, actually.”

  Emily smiled. “And you?”

  Melissa looked back at her, half-defiant, half-afraid. “I didn’t know you could channel so much power,” she said. “Even a Lone Power would have had problems.”

  “She’s the daughter of a Lone Power,” Markus said. “Are you surprised?”

  “She wanted me to make friends with you,” Melissa said. “I never understood why until now.”

  Emily blinked. “You were trying to make friends?”

  Melissa had the grace to blush. “You made Alassa into a competent magician,” she said, softly. “I never thought of you as anything other than a rival.”

  “I know,” Emily said. “What happened between you and her?”

  “She’s royalty, I’m family,” Melissa said. “Or I was...anyway, we just got off on the wrong foot, and it went downhill from there.”

  “I can believe that,” Emily said. She’d started off on the wrong foot with Alassa, too. “Still, I hope we can get on better in the future.”

  “If we see each other again,” Melissa said. “The...Fulvia will probably try to reclaim my tuition fees from Whitehall.”

  “I thought she couldn’t,” Emily said.

  “If anyone can, she can,” Melissa said.

  “And I need to find a job,” Markus said.

  “I know,” Emily said. “I have an offer for you.”

  Markus gave her a sharp look. “A job offer?”

  “Of sorts,” Emily said. “You being...disconnected...from your family can only help, I think.”

  “I see,” Markus said. He exchanged a look with Melissa, and leaned forward. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Run a bank,” Emily said.

  “A bank?” Markus repeated.

  Emily nodded, and plunged on. “There aren’t actually that many banks in the world,” she told him. “Most people, rich or poor, choose to keep their wealth in their own homes, if only to keep it where they can see it. The handful of banks that do exist are really nothing more than glorified storage sites, with the added disadvantage that the king’s taxmen can see what you actually have.”

  “Or take it,” Markus said.

  “Precisely,” Emily said. “The average peasant would not put his money in the bank, even if he had money, for fear of what would happen to it. This may let them keep their money secure, but it doesn’t give it time to grow.”

  Melissa’s eyes narrowed. “How does it grow?”

  “If one hundred people have a single gold coin apiece,” Emily said, “collectively they have a hundred gold coins. If that money happened to be gathered in one place, they would be able to use the money to buy what they wanted.”

  “But they would then have to share whatever they’d bought,” Melissa said.

  “I think I understand,” Markus said, slowly. “They put the money in the bank, then the bank loans the money out at a low rate of interest, then they use the interest to repay the original lenders.”

  “Among other things,” Emily said. “We would also be minting our own coins with a fixed value, perhaps even paper money. It would boost the economy considerably.”

  “By lending people money,” Melissa said. “How?”

  “You need to spend money in order to make money,” Emily said. “If someone wants to open their own...oh, their own pub, they need to buy everything from the building itself to the tables, chairs, and barrels of beer. So the bank loans them the money, which is then repaid with interest once the business is a success.”

  “Assuming it is a success,” Markus said. “But you could loan out the money to a hundred different people and still come out ahead, if half of the businesses succeeded.”

  “Precisely,” Emily said. “At the moment, the only real source of wealth is land. If you happen to need a loan and you don’t have land, you practically have to pledge yourself to the loan sharks. A proper bank would make it easier for people to take out loans without selling themselves or their children into slavery.”

  “And what,” Melissa asked, “is to keep King Randor from simply taking the money?”

  “The bank will be established in the free city of Beneficence, out of the king’s reach,” Emily said. “We will use charmed parchments to ensure that monies can only be drawn by established customers. Given time, we can probably offer special rates to the king, in exchange for him recognizing the independence of the bank. “Or come up with something else, if necessary.”

  She sighed. “I can show you my notes, if you like,” she added. “I won’t deny there are problems to be solved. There will definitely be issues with counterfeit coins and other pieces of unpleasantness, but I believe we can overcome them.”

  “And doing it in Beneficence will make it harder for anyone to interfere,” Markus said. “My family may not take it any further, but Lady Fulvia was humiliated...”

  “Yes, she was,” Emily said. She could easily see Fulvia doing whatever she could to spite Melissa. “The city is neutral.”

  “Which is why the guilds rake in a hefty amount of cash,” Markus said, dryly. “I could see them liking the idea of a bank, too.”

  He frowned. “We’d have to practically layer the whole building in wards, then devise binding oaths and contracts,” he mused aloud. “Someone would be bound to try to steal something from the vaults, once we got them established. There are entire clubs of people who try to break wards purely for the hell of it.”

  “It will be a steep learning curve,” Emily agreed, dryly. She leaned forward. “I can offer you a considerable wage, including enough for Melissa to complete her remaining three years of schooling, and a large lump sum to serve as the first deposit. You will also have a handful of shares in the bank, which you may buy and sell as you see fit.”

  Melissa frowned. “What’s a share?”

  “A share in the bank,” Emily said. “Basically, ownership rights. A couple of people who happen to hold fifty percent, plus one, of the shares in any business can run it to suit themselves, but profits are paid out in line with the shares.”

  “So if I held ten percent of the shares, I would get ten percent of the profits,” Melissa said.

  “Basically,” Emily agreed. It was a little more complex than that, but there would be time to discuss the difference between gross and net profits later. “I’d hold a number of shares, as would you. Later, we would sell them on, allowing other investors to join us.”

  “It sounds great,” Markus said. “What’s the catch?”

  “I will be requiring an oath,” Emily said, flatly. “This isn’t something I can allow to get screwed up.”

  Markus eyed her for a long moment. “Very well,” he said, finally. “Once you have an oath worked out, and we have agreed on the wording, I will swear.”

  Emily nodded. She would have to speak to Lady Barb, when she finally returned, and come up with an oath Markus could swear without compromising himself. Markus wasn’t likely to swear eternal loyalty to her, or anyone. And besides, it would be insulting to ask him to do anything of the sort.

  “You are welcome to stay for the rest of the summer,” she said, again. “And I would be interested in talking about other ideas, too.”

  “I thank you,” Markus said. “You’re a very strange person, Lady Emily.”

  Emily couldn’t deny it. To them, she had to look like a strange mixture of woman-child,
genius inventor and eccentric romantic. She was nineteen, more or less, and she still thought of herself as a girl, where most children of the Nameless World would think of themselves as adults. But then, even Alassa was growing up as she started to accept the responsibilities that came with her birth. Emily could do no less.

  “But a decent one, I hope,” she said.

  “Yes,” Melissa said. “It must have been very tempting to betray us.”

  “It could have been,” Emily said. “But I am not cruel.”

  Melissa nodded, slowly. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “Me too,” Emily agreed.

  What would her life have been like, she wondered again, if she’d met Melissa first? Would Melissa have dragged her out of her shell and forced her to socialize, or would she have been allowed to study in peace, while Melissa and her friends continued their private war with Alassa and her cronies? But Melissa would have inevitably gained the advantage, as long as Alassa remained dependent on a wand. It would have only had one possible outcome.

  “You never answered my question,” Markus said. “What should I tell the MageMaster?”

  Emily laughed. In all the excitement, she had quite forgotten Zed’s proposal.

  “Tell him that he can keep the books at Mountaintop for the moment, as long as he grants me freedom of the school,” she said. There were books in the collection she wouldn’t have cared to store elsewhere, even in Whitehall. “I will probably consult them, one of these days.”

  She looked up as the maid finally appeared, carrying three menus. “My usual, please,” Emily said. “And you two?”

  Markus placed his order before looking directly at Emily. “I think he will be satisfied,” he said. “But he will probably want to give you something to allow you access into the school.”

  “He can send it to me here or Whitehall,” Emily said. “And I hope he has forgiven me for everything.”

  “You made him MageMaster,” Markus said. “I dare say he will forgive you, eventually.”

  Emily shrugged. Zed had been happiest as a researcher, probing the unexplored mysteries of alchemy; he probably didn’t enjoy running the school. But, on the other hand, he hadn’t had any long-term ambitions of his own. He might not have wanted the job, but he was the person Mountaintop needed.

 

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