Common (The Lora Fletcher Chronicles Book 1)

by Andrea Irving

  When they got there, Regan immediately offered Lora his arm. When they began walking toward the dining hall, he said, “You’ll let me know if anyone bothers you.” It was not a question.

  “I don’t know why they would, but I will if it makes you feel better,” she replied.

  Regan smiled down at her, his hair flopping down onto his forehead. “It does,” he said.

  She smiled back and tucked a lock of no-longer mousey brown hair behind her ear. “Something occurred to me, your highness.” When he raised an eyebrow at her use of his honorific, she laughed. “Since you’re so insistent, is there someone you think might bother me?”

  He stared ahead for a moment, lost in thought. “There are a few,” Regan admitted. When Lora opened her mouth to protest, he added, “Don’t let it go to your head.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Lora pointed at the candle and a small flame flickered at the wick. She smiled, closed her fist and a small ball of water appeared, she opened her hand and it fell on to the candle, smothering the flame. There was a line of candles that had been similarly treated before it. She drew a circle in the air and a ring of earth rose around each candle, and when she flicked her fingers, a breath of wind blew the disturbed earth away.

  “Now that you’ve mastered those child’s parlor tricks, would you care to learn to light your sword on fire?” Lord Michael said from behind her.

  She stood up and dusted her hands off on her skirts. She’d gone out to the practice yards for her exercises because there was no dirt atop the cobblestones in the courtyard for her to practice with. “I thought you said that flaming swords did little but inspire fear in your opponent.”

  “I did say that,” he replied. “Sometimes that’s all you will need. Now go and see Blaine and get a sword.” When she turned toward the dormitories Lord Michael said, “That’s not the way to the armory.”

  “Yes, but I can’t fight like this,” Lora said as she gestured to her dress. She was wearing the pink one and didn’t wish to get it any dirtier than it already was.

  Lord Michael stared at her. “You will not always fight in pants and a tunic. Or leathers. Or armor. It’s time you learned how to fight with those blasted skirts getting tangled about you. Now go get your sword.”

  Lora bobbed a small curtsy and ran toward the armory. She was flushed and sweaty when she arrived, and Blaine laughed at the sight of her. “Lord Michael’s going to put you through the ringer today, lass. He told me as much.” He handed her the sword she worked with most often and shooed her away.

  She nearly ran and hid, but she knew her punishment would be ten times worse for running away than it would be for standing up and fighting her teacher. She strapped the sword to her hip already not liking the way it tangled in her legs and skirts. Lora did not want to admit that Lord Michael was right, but she knew he was. When she returned to the practice yard, she winced.

  “Took you long enough, girl,” Lord Robert said from his perch on the fence. “I’m not here to fight you, so don’t worry. I’m just here in case you set your pretty head of hair on fire.” He grinned and an amorphous shape rose out of a bucket near him.

  Lora envied him that he didn’t need to gesture to control his elements. She hoped she would attain that level of control someday. She sighed and stepped into the yard. She hung back by the fence, unsure what to do.

  “Draw your sword,” Lord Michael told her as he drew his. She tentatively drew hers, wary that she was shredding her skirts as she did do. He lowered his sword and stared at her scornfully, “Don’t be ridiculous.” Her cheeks flamed and she held her sword at ready. “Good,” he told her. “Now treat the blade as you have been those candle wicks. It’s no different.”

  She looked at her sword and a ten foot flame arced out from it. Lora nearly dropped it in surprise. She quickly snuffed it out with air, took a breath, and tried again. This time, a lazy flame rolled over the metal’s surface.

  “Don’t let it go out,” he said. He grinned and ran at her.

  The flame went out, she clumsily thrust an air shield in front of her, which Lord Michael batted away easily. She crouched into a fighting stance, since she really didn’t know what else to do. Lora felt her sword being extricated from her hand by hot tendrils of air just as the air was knocked out of her by Lord Michael’s body. He twisted her body and slammed her into the fence, bending her over it. She felt his breath on her neck and froze, the point of the exercise becoming clear. She closed her eyes as she heard a dagger being drawn and ground her teeth in frustration. In hand-to-hand combat, like most women, she was lost if she did not have speed on her side. Obviously, that was the case in this instance. But a niggling feeling at the back of her mind reminded her that this exercise was also about swordwielding.

  Lora’s eyes popped open as she felt the blade on her neck. Her brows furrowed and she heard a shocked exclamation followed by a stream of curses that colored her cheeks. The weight on her back quickly went away, and when she stood up, she saw Lord Michael stalking away, holding his burned hand before him. He was still cursing. She heard clapping and turned to see Lord Robert still watching her.

  “You won’t catch him by surprise like that again, Miss Lorana,” he said as he hopped down off the fence. “Obviously, we need to speak to Master Karl if he isn’t teaching you girls to break that hold. It’s not difficult to do.” He studied her. “In any case, you can see that it’s not all about exploding earth and flaming swords. As a woman, it’s also about self-protection. We teach all of the wielders to use their various skills in self-defense. It seems we have been neglecting you thinking that your swordsplay teachers were taking care of that.”

  “Yes, Lord Robert,” she said with a shaking voice. Lora went to retrieve her sword and felt a hand on her wrist as she stood.

  Lord Robert’s eyes had softened. “Are you alright?”

  “Yes,” she nodded. “I take harder licks than that from Peter.”

  “Yes, but not like that and never from us,” Lord Robert told her. “I know it’s your summer holidays, but I’ve never actually seen you holidaying. Michael and I felt like we should take the opportunity to start really swordwielding in practice, instead of in theory. Since you’re a bit behind schedule—“ He held up his hands as she frowned. “It’s been three years, and I do recall you boasting you’d be here in less than two and a half. So technically, we are behind schedule. And you’re not as adept in your swordsplay as we’d like. Too much time spent reading and talking with Lord Cedric, I’d wager.” He scratched his iron gray hair. “I’m glad you’re alright. But if Michael had really intended to harm you, I don’t think you’d have come away from that unscathed. You’re a young woman—“

  “I’m still fifteen,” she growled.

  Lord Robert rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You’re a young woman and anything can happen when you’re roaming around Glimmen or skulking around in dark corners.” Lora blushed again. He laughed, rustled her hair, bowed at the neck, and walked away.

  Lora took a deep breath and half ran to the armory with her sword. She handed it to Blaine, thanked him, and ran off toward their healer’s complex. She arrived out of breath to see a still-swearing Lord Michael sitting with a patient healer.

  His eyes darkened when he saw her. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

  “No I haven’t.”

  “You’ve learned to heat metal. That’s no simple skill, Lora,” he said as the healer continued to clean his hand.

  Lora bit her lip. “I’ve never done it before. You scared me,” she admitted. “In all of that, it occurred to me what the original point of the lesson was. Fire is the easiest for me, so I did the only thing I could think of.”

  Lord Michael hmmph’ed. “You, who set people’s cloaks on fire with a flick of your wrist. Heating my dagger to the point it could be reworked by a blacksmith was the first thing that came to your mind?” He shook his head and removed his spectacles with his free hand. “Did you speak to Robert?”

>   “Yes,” she nodded. “He said we needed to work on some things.”

  “We do.”

  Lora winced at the sternness in his voice. “I’m sorry.”

  He waved her off with his good hand. “Don’t be sorry,” he said, gritting his teeth. The healer had begun to knit the tissues of his hand back together. “Work harder. Get better. Now get out.”

  As Lora walked back to her room, she thought about the fight. She understood that even with all of her training, she could be caught unawares and overcome by a common street thug. It was a sobering thought. She stared at the door to her new, private room and something dawned on her. There was more protection in an open air room shared with twenty other girls than there was behind a private locked door. This lesson was probably no coincidence. She went inside and bound the door with air, even as she locked it.

  A quick glance down at her skirts revealed three neat foot-long slices. Her bodice was ripped in front and on one sleeve. The small looking glass told her that her hair was a fright. Lora told herself that she got off easy.

  A knock sounded at her door. She released the air and called, “Who is it?”

  “It’s me.”

  “You’re mad if you think I’m going to open the door for you, Louis,” she said. “You’re not supposed to be in here.”

  “I came to see if you were alright,” his voice said from behind the door. “Your fight with Lord Michael has spread through the Academy like wildfire. Well, those of us too stupid to have left for the holidays, anyway. He’s a formidable opponent. I just wanted to make sure you were all on one piece.”

  Lora sighed and unbolted her door. She opened it and looked at her friend. “Satisfied,” she asked.

  Louis winced. “Well, I guess Peter’s made you look worse. You do look terrible though.”

  “I was about to change when you knocked.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest and winced.

  “See a healer and make sure your ribs aren’t broken,” he gestured. “Well, I see you’re in one piece. I’ll leave you to it. I’d offer to help you out of that, but I prefer not to have my hands melted off.” He smiled sheepishly.

  “I’d love help,” she told him. At his shocked expression, she continued, her face alight with a grin, “Please let Mistress Tabitha know on your way out.” She shoved him unceremoniously out of her room, slammed, and bolted her door. She slipped the air binding into place and laughed.

  The following sevenday, Lora was surprised by a visit from Lady Tiana. Her belly was round with child, and she looked angry and cross.

  “What a marvelous surprise, Cousin Tiana,” Lora said to her when she saw her. “I’m happy for you and Lord Larence. I’m surprised you would travel in your state though. Come, sit down here.” She grasped Lady Tiana’s head and led her to a sofa in the dormitory common area.

  Lady Tiana arched an eyebrow at her. “Thank you. I will tell him. We are traveling to Haven Dale. I cannot bear the heat of Rock Harbor, so I am hoping it will be cooler there. This child is roasting me from the inside.”

  “Please give my regards to Cousin Allistair and Lady Frances when you see them,” she said. “Now, to what do I owe the lovely surprise of seeing you?”

  “It has been some months,” Tiana confessed. “I would not have you think you are being neglected.” She eyed her critically. “I see it has happened then. Your bosom has grown, so I must think you have started your courses.”

  Lora ground her teeth together. This seemed to be the only thing Lady Tiana ever wanted to talk to her about. “Yes, Cousin. I have begun wearing corsets to dinner, as well. It is expected now, and I’m told that I will also be invited to the midwinter ball at the palace.”

  Lady Tiana nodded. “That is kind of them to think of you. You remember what I have told you about relations?”

  A few heads turned toward them. Lady Tiana had not bothered to lower her voice. Lora was thankful that there were not many people around them. She figured it must be due to her pregnancy that the normally very proper woman would speak so in company. “Yes, I do,” she coughed.

  “And?”

  “And nothing,” Lora told her in a low voice. “I heed your advice. In truth, no one has sought me out, but if they had they would not have found me willing. We also have been taught self-defense, should we ever be accosted.”

  “Good,” she said. Her face turned thoughtful. “My brother thinks we should increase your allowance. He thinks two silvers a month is stingy. I imagine your friends here have more.” She sighed. “He has thought to increase it to five silvers per month.”

  Lora calculated in her head that she would have in two months what it had taken her all year to save previously. “That is very generous,” she said. “I thank you.”

  “Your father has been asking after you,” she said absently as she fanned herself with her hand. “What shall I tell him when I see him?”

  “Well, you may tell him that I love him and miss him greatly.” Lora was startled by the question. Lady Tiana never brought up her family. “That I am doing well in my studies. You may convey my regards to my brother, as well.” She was now certain that the pregnancy was affecting her judgment. “Tell them… Tell them I can set my sword on fire and block blows with a shield of air. I think that will give them a very glamourous picture of life here.”

  Tiana chuckled. “You have come far,” she said. “It is… a pleasure to speak with you now. I understand you are friends with the prince?” Lora nodded and Tiana smiled. “I am glad for you, Cousin Lorana.” She stood and placed her hand on her belly. “I will leave you now. No doubt you are busy. It has been a pleasure.” She took Lora’s hands in hers, bobbed a small curtsy, and left.

  To say Lora was astonished was an understatement. She stared at the door so long that two people came and left before she began to walk back to her small room. She stopped when a voice called to her. She smiled when she noticed who it was.

  “I just ran into your cousin,” Regan said. “How wonderful! When does she expect the child?”

  “Late in the autumn, I believe,” she replied. She gave him a deep curtsy and he scowled. “We never pay you your rightful due, your highness. We do everything else as properly as we can, so…” She shrugged.

  Regan rolled his eyes. “I can see your cousin’s influence. You’re always so stuffy when she comes.”

  Lora frowned. “Stuffy?”

  “You try to impress her when she’s here,” he explained. “It’s like I am with my father. I am what I am because of him. Just as you are what you are because of her and Lord Allistair. But it’s not you. I prefer you less formal.”

  She wanted to tell him that she was not at all what she appeared, but she swallowed that notion as it appeared. “I’m not sure what to say to that, Regan.”

  “Just that,” he said, taking her arm. “Come on. I’m having Louis and you over for dinner.”

  Lora paled. “I’m not dressed. I have nothing to wear.” Her hands grew clammy. She had never been to the palace. She thought she had some time to acclimate herself to the idea of possibly going to the ball during the midwinter holidays. This was horrible.

  “I’ll give you time to dress, and I am acutely aware that you have several suitable articles of clothing appropriate for dinner,” he said, gently removing her arm from his.

  She shook her head and stared at the ground.

  “It’s just Louis and me, Lora,” he said. “And maybe my sister. My father won’t be there. There won’t be anyone you don’t know. It’ll be like eating dinner here, except with better food. And better service.”

  “I can’t.”

  “I don’t understand you.”

  “Prince Regan,” she began, “shall I describe my own home in Haven Dale to you? You’d find it charming, I’m sure.” Lora’s hands began to shake. “Downstairs is a work area, an open kitchen and eating area, and a space for sitting. It’s about the size of this room we’re in now.” She gestured around the common room, which held
three sofas and was cramped. “Upstairs was one large sleeping area. Just before I left, my father had curtained off one corner to give me privacy. I had thought it so grand to have my own space. My room here is larger.” She took a deep breath. “Do you understand me now?”

  His hands were clenched into fists at his sides. His hair had fallen into his face so that she couldn’t see his eyes. “I don’t care and nor should you,” he grumbled.

  Lora raised her eyebrows. “I’d rather not get used to the palace. Or anywhere else like that. I’ll be going back home when my training is done. It will be far easier if I imagine those places, rather than experience them.”

  “And if you are assigned to the palace for training?” he asked as he crossed his arms over his chest. “What then?”

  “Why do you always have to be right?” She turned away and took a deep breath.

  “Because I will be king someday,” he said. His voice was quiet. Lora knew he was acutely aware that he had hurt her feelings. “And I can almost guarantee that you won’t be going back to your father’s house.” He shook his head. “Enough of this. I’ll have Mistress Tabitha come help you dress.” He turned and left.

  Lora walked quickly back to her room. Regan was her friend, and as much as she knew he had not wanted to hurt her feelings, she also knew he would not want her to dwell on making him angry. Both feelings would pass soon enough, but it was hard. She blinked back a few tears when she got to her room, opened her wardrobe, and looked inside. She now had two dresses for dinner. The dark grey one was heavy and less suited for summer. She had not yet worn her other dress, as it verged on the point of being too fancy for the Academy. Mistress Bethany had done some pretty fast talking in order to get her to agree to it. It was a coppery gold, the color of sunset. The material was silky and soft and it was tastefully trimmed with ribbons.