Royals of Villain Academy 4: Horrid Charms

by Eva Chase

  Crowford gave an approving nod that made my stomach turn. “We offer them so much already,” he said in apparent scorn, and switched back into teaching mode.

  As he talked further about the manipulation of inanimate objects using persuasion, I stayed tensed in my seat. The entire sequence of events ran through my head on repeat. With each iteration, my heart sank a little more.

  When class let out, I hung back so I could leave with Connar, who’d been sitting in the back. He caught my eye with a slight tip of his head in acknowledgment. I walked slowly to give the other students the lead, waiting until they’d disappeared around the bend in the stairs.

  “That was weird, right?” I said in a low voice. “The Naries coming in—the way Professor Crowford reacted… I know I haven’t been here that long, but it’s been a couple terms, and that’s the first time I’ve seen something like that happen.”

  “I’ve never seen a mistake like that either,” Connar said. “I guess everyone makes mistakes from time to time, and it isn’t surprising that Crowford might have forgotten to put the protections in place at the beginning of class…”

  His doubtful tone bolstered my conviction. “But it’d be an awfully huge coincidence for him to forget at the exact time a Nary somehow repeatedly misread the number on his schedule, wouldn’t it? And… it all happened really fast, but I’d swear he motioned for what’s-her-name to drop the cabinet before he had a chance to see who it was. Why would he have assumed the people at the door were Naries?”

  Connar considered me. “Are you saying you think that he knew it would happen ahead of time? That he meant for it to happen?”

  “I don’t know. That seems awfully weird too.” I rubbed my arms, even though the dry tower air was only pleasantly cool, not cold, compared to the lingering summer heat we’d face outside. “I just don’t like it. It felt… like it happened as an excuse to hurt them.”

  “Yeah,” Connar said quietly. He scowled at the steps. “You’ve got enough to worry about as it is, Rory. I’ll keep an eye on him and watch for anything else that seems strange. I don’t think that incident had anything to do with you, at least.”

  Thank God for small mercies? I forced a smile. “True. What are you doing now? Maybe we could—”

  We stepped out into the sunlit green outside, and my voice halted at the sight of the woman waiting just beyond the tower. Lillian Ravenguard had been standing with her hands on her hips, her stance poised but not tense with that leonine grace of hers. She moved to meet me the moment I came into view.

  “Rory,” she said with a warmth I no longer trusted. “I was told you should be out of class soon. Can I talk to you for a few minutes?”

  Her gaze passed over Connar’s brawny frame with what looked like professional attention, as if she were sizing him up. Even though he could have handled a hell of a lot more fight than I could, I bristled instinctively inside. I didn’t want anyone targeting my guys in the plot against me.

  “Sure,” I said, and shot Connar a quick smile. “I’ll see you later.”

  He nodded with a wary glance toward Lillian. I suspected he wasn’t going to stray too far from where he saw us go.

  Lillian started to amble toward Ashgrave Hall, and I fell into step beside her. “What’s going on?” I asked. “Is there news about the hearing?” A nervous quiver raced through my chest. They hadn’t arranged it early despite Declan’s efforts, had they?

  “It’s been set for next Wednesday,” Lillian said. “You’ll have a little more than your two weeks to prepare… however you intend to prepare.” She peered at me sideways. “Are you sure coming back to the school was the wisest idea? I wouldn’t tell you what to do, of course, but I promise you my own investigations will cover every aspect of the situation.”

  She wouldn’t tell me what to do, no. She’d only lie to me about the authority she was claiming and what my rights were. I caught myself before I gritted my teeth in annoyance.

  “Even if I can’t find anything useful myself, I’d rather be living life as normally as possible as long as I can rather than be shut away in that holding room.”

  She chuckled. “Spoken as your mother would have. Fair enough. That wasn’t actually the main reason I wanted to talk to you. Have you experienced anything unusual in the last few days?”

  Was that question some new part of their plot to establish my incompetence? “Unusual how?” I asked.

  “Just a sensation in or around your body, maybe quite faint, that you didn’t recognize and couldn’t see a cause for. Maybe something you’d have taken for a spell.”

  My brow knit as I thought back. “Not that I can remember. Why? Do you think someone might have been casting on me?” Had they and she was confirming that they’d done it subtly enough that I hadn’t noticed?

  Lillian didn’t look comforted by my answer, though. She rubbed her mouth. “You never know, when you’ve drawn this much attention… Have you seen any other illusions, even if not on the same scale as the ones around the murder, that appeared to be aimed at you?”

  “No, nothing like that either.” My throat had started to tighten. I stopped before we’d finished passing the hall. “Is there something I need to be worried about—to watch out for?”

  I wasn’t sure she’d tell me if so, but I got the impression she was actually bothered by this line of questioning. She might have wanted to help speed along my downfall, but only her way. If someone had other designs on me, she could very well decide to protect me from those.

  But Lillian shook her head. “I just wanted to be sure. If anything like that does come up, you get in touch with me right away, all right? And I’ll keep tracking down our leads to make sure you come out of that hearing with the right verdict.”

  She turned and patted my arm. Her hand brushed my skin with a faint prick as if from the rough edge of a ring. It faded before I’d even registered it, and then she was hurrying away with one last wave.

  I studied my forearm, but the skin appeared unbroken. There wasn’t even a pink spot as if it’d been pinched. I might have only imagined the hint of pain after all her talk about odd sensations. Given the circumstances, though, I’d ask one of the guys to check my arm just to be sure she hadn’t cast some covert spell on me.

  Whatever that sensation had been, I had no doubt at all that she hadn’t told me the real reason behind her questions.

  Chapter Ten

  Jude

  I’d never enjoyed calling home—really, I’d avoided doing it unless absolutely necessary. Since my mother’s announcement about her pregnancy, any contact had gotten even more uncomfortable, on my end at least. So, I might have procrastinated for around a half hour, tidying my room and reviewing my most recent class assignment, before I finally convinced myself to pick up the phone. But I did pick it up.

  My body sank into the plump feather pillow I’d braced against my bed’s headboard. The fresh breeze slipping through the half-open window carried a pleasant hint of the autumn to come, but every muscle in my body tensed as I placed the call.

  It was Mom who answered, of course. If Dad was in the vicinity of a phone, he’d have taken one look at the call display and promptly turned away. I was counting on Mom to get me access.

  “Jude!” she said in her typically over-exuberant way. “I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon. Is everything all right?”

  She’d always acted as if she thought she could make up for Dad’s coldness by showering me with appreciation, and that hadn’t changed even with the baby on the way. Had she even thought about what the new arrival was going to mean for me? She’d stuck with Dad all this time despite what he’d made her do and how he’d treated her and me afterward… Had she convinced herself that they’d somehow quietly swap heirs without any harm coming to me?

  “Nothing’s wrong,” I said. No need to make her anxious. “School’s the same old school. How are you doing?”

  I didn’t really want to hear about my impending sibling, but showing an inter
est would make her more likely to advocate for me after.

  “Oh, you know, this is the easy part, really. The baby’s been kicking a little harder the last couple days. She’s obviously a strong one.”

  I had to partly tune out her voice while she rambled a little more about the kid who was essentially my death sentence, but I needed that space anyway to gather my resolve. My mind traveled back to yesterday night with Rory, to the terrifying but exhilarating release of telling the heir of Bloodstone how much she meant to me.

  Our interlude in the piano room had been amazing in so many ways. The truth was, though, that the moment I thought back to with the most satisfaction was simply holding her in my arms and feeling her relax in my embrace. To know that she trusted me to support her, that I’d somehow earned that trust… No sexual bliss could top that.

  I could do this for her. Even if it made me feel sick to my stomach; even if it was going to take every ounce of my self-control. She needed me to fight for her in every way I could. I might have let down an awful lot of people in my life, but she wasn’t going to be one of them.

  When Mom’s chatter fell into a lull, I drew in a breath, my free hand clenching around the bedspread.

  “Could you get Dad? There’s something I wanted to ask him about.”

  The question startled Mom into a few seconds of silence. I was pretty sure I’d never asked to speak to my father in all the years I’d boarded at the university. “Yes,” she said, wrenching herself out of her shock. “Yes, of course, I’ll— I’m sure he’ll have a moment. Let me go get him.”

  She hadn’t been able to hide the uneasiness in her voice. She knew as well as I did that it didn’t matter how many “moments” Dad had, he wouldn’t want to give any of them to me. I was counting on her being tenacious enough—and him being softened a little by the heir on the way—to get him on the line.

  The dead air while I waited stretched across one minute and then another. I shifted restlessly on the bed. I didn’t have much of a backup plan if he refused to talk to me at all.

  There was an abrupt rustling as the phone on the other end was lifted. Dad’s voice carried to my ear, distant and brisk. “Your mother said you wanted to speak to me.”

  With less than ten words, he could make me feel like I was barely worth the dust on his shoe. I closed my eyes and reminded myself of why I was doing this. Of the caramel sweet smell of Rory’s hair and the way she smiled at me.

  To her, I was someone who mattered.

  “Yes,” I said in my most pleasant tone. “I mean, we haven’t really talked since…” Since ever. “…since all the plans for the new baby started. How was your tennis match yesterday?” I might not have a remotely close relationship with my father, but I still listened well enough to know what he was up to.

  “Fine. I’m assuming there’s something else.”

  Okay, so making friendly conversation wasn’t going to get me anywhere. I hadn’t figured it would, but it’d been worth a shot. Down to business then.

  I sat up straighter, as if I could convey my posture over the phone. “Yes. But it’s not for me. You know I handle my own affairs just fine.” As he preferred. “It’s about Rory Bloodstone.”

  “What about the Bloodstone scion?” Dad asked, sounding more attentive all of a sudden. That seemed like a good sign.

  I launched into my pitch. “Obviously you know about the accusations she’s facing. I’ve gathered since she’s been released temporarily to the school that there are complications with proving her innocence. From what I’ve seen of her, there’s no way she could be responsible for the attack, but she doesn’t have many resources on her own. If one or more of the barons spoke up on her behalf, I’d imagine—”

  Dad cut me off, twice as cold as before. “If she’s to be baron, she needs to learn to fend for herself too.”

  My throat tightened. “She’s only known fearmancers exist for a few months. Her entire family is gone. The barons have gone to bat for each other before—it’s hardly unprecedented. Wouldn’t it be better for all of you to have her unencumbered by—”

  “What makes you so concerned about her future?”

  I’d been prepared for a question along that line, but my back stiffened anyway. If he thought I was asking for personal rather than professional reasons, he’d never want to agree.

  “I’m concerned about the barony,” I said. “Shouldn’t I be? It’s my future too. Strong, united leadership is what keeps our society in line.”

  Either Dad didn’t buy that explanation or he didn’t care what my reasons were—it only mattered that I was the one asking. “If Bloodstone has the strength to be part of that unity, this hearing will determine that,” he said firmly. “No scion or baron should need to send others begging on their behalf.”

  “I’m not— She didn’t—” I started, but the phone hung up with a definitive click.

  My fingers squeezed around my own phone. I forced myself to lower it without hurling it across the room in frustration, glaring at the wardrobe across from me the way I should have been glaring at my father.

  The barons had the perfect opportunity to solidify Rory’s role in their midst. If they stood up for her now, she’d see being part of the pentacle had some benefits, the way she’d come to trust me after I’d shown I’d be there for her. How the hell did they expect to accomplish anything if they never found a way to accept her into the fold?

  But I’d heard it in Dad’s voice. He cared more about thwarting my request than about what it would mean for his career. Fuck, I might even have made him less inclined to help Rory by asking.

  Even with a real heir on the way, even when he was the one who’d created our family situation in the first place, he hated me that much.

  I dropped my head into my hands and pressed my palms to my forehead. Why did I even let myself care what he thought? I knew who he was and what he’d done. I’d tried my best… and this was where it got me.

  Why was I waiting around for him to sever me from his life when I could decide what I did with mine all on my own?

  A tenuous but hopeful sense of resolve rose up inside me. I didn’t have a solution to any of the larger problems Rory and I were facing, but I could at least pull myself completely out from under Dad’s thumb for as long as I had until he upped the ante.

  I got off the bed, glanced out the window, and was diverted by a scene that appeared to be in the process of unfolding. A couple of Naries were just heading out of view in the direction of Rory’s clubhouse… and a few of my fellow fearmancer students were slinking along a careful distance behind. I didn’t like the look of that at all.

  When I strode out of the building, the mages I’d seen were still lurking several feet away from the clubhouse. Connar and I had checked the wards Rory had buried beneath the place when we’d returned to school, so I knew their magic had been holding steady, but they were still small in the grand scheme of things. A concentrated assault could break them.

  I sauntered over to the other students—seniors, but newly promoted ones, the guy on the right sporting straggles of hair he must be attempting to call a moustache. I didn’t think any of them had been here for the summer session.

  “Hey,” I said in a casual voice as I joined them. Their murmured conversation fell silent as they all turned wary but respectful gazes on me. I might not know them well, but they knew who I was. Everyone recognized the scions.

  I nodded toward the clubhouse. “You know that was Rory Bloodstone’s summer project, don’t you? If you mess with it… you’re messing with her. Maybe not the wisest idea, just as a tip.”

  I didn’t like the fact that my warning would have twice as much impact given the crime Rory had recently been accused of, but the end result was worth it. The guys paled, mumbled acknowledgment, and backed away with enough wide-eyed worry to convince me they wouldn’t be striking at the Naries’ new safe spot any time soon.

  Footsteps hissed through the grass behind me. I looked around to see Sin
clair coming over. She glanced after the retreating guys and gave me a tight smile.

  “Still fighting her battles for her, huh?” She flicked her sleek black bob back from her shoulder. “You’ve made yourself into a real knight in shining armor. It’s kind of pathetic.”

  Did she really think I’d ever cared what she thought of me? We’d barely talked outside of our occasional tumbles into bed. At most we’d been acquaintances with benefits, and since I’d set my sights on Rory, even that small connection had ended.

  “You’re entitled to your opinion,” I said nonchalantly. “In my role as knight, I should probably let you know that you and Victory and the rest had better keep your distance if you want to keep any favor with the pentacle.”

  She let out a huff. “You don’t want to worry about that. Malcolm made it very clear to Victory that he expected her to back off, and you know what she’s like about him. She still thinks she’s going to marry him someday.” Her tone made it clear how ridiculous she found that idea.

  I hadn’t known that Malcolm had not only reconsidered his approach to Rory but been publicly enforcing a cease-fire too. With a jab of uneasiness, my mind tripped back to the claim he’d tried to stake on the Bloodstone scion not long after she’d arrived here. Even when he’d been determined to tear her down, he’d wanted first dibs on picking up the pieces and winning her heart. He’d torn into me when I’d made my intentions to pursue her clear.

  Rory had only proven herself more spectacular since then. What were the chances he didn’t still want her? Ha. The question was more… what were the chances she’d want him, if he made his amends thoroughly enough? She’d forgiven me, after all.

  How much room would be left for me if he made a move? As an actual fucking scion, with all the strength and clout that came with that, he had a hell of a lot more to offer than I did. And I didn’t think he’d like the idea of sharing.

  I shook those worries away. Rory would do what made her happiest, and that was the way it should be. I couldn’t dwell on uncomfortable hypotheticals.