Crown of Secrets (The Hidden Mage Book 1)

by Melanie Cellier

  “I have no need for your apology, Prince Darius,” I said lightly. “We are all friends here, are we not?”

  He turned, the same controlled danger of his expression showing in every line of his body. He regarded me for a long moment.

  “Indeed, Princess Verene. And it would be well for us all to remember that Kallorway and Ardann are not so very different.”

  His dark gaze turned back to Royce, who was no doubt heartily regretting his foolish assumption that a royal of Ardann might be sent to the Academy without adequate training in combat.

  Royce bowed, more deeply than he had ever done before, and mumbled something that might have been an apology before hurrying away. Darius watched him go and then returned to his brother’s side, ignoring the fact that every bout around us had stopped, and the other trainees were all watching him warily.

  All except one.

  Bryony sidled up to me. “Hee!” she whispered in my ear. “That was fun to watch. I wouldn’t be Royce right now for anything.”

  I let myself relax, grinning at her. “Would you ever want to be Royce?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course not. Now pair with me for the rest of the lesson. Just promise you won’t cut me to ribbons.”

  I laughed. “You can’t fool me. You’re forgetting we fought every day the last time you came to Corrin. You’re a better fighter than your mother. I’m the one who should be worried about being carved up.”

  She winked at me. “I promise to go easy, then. I’m sure I would die of fright if the crown prince ever looked at me like he just looked at Royce.”

  I shook my head as I took up my position across from her. “I’m not sure anything frightens you, Bree. And sometimes that frightens me. There are some things we should all be afraid of.”

  And I was starting to wonder if the crown prince of Kallorway was one of them. Because while I would rather die than show it, I never wanted Prince Darius to look at me like that, either.

  I managed to find my way back to my suite to wash before lunch without a guide. Bryony accompanied me, claiming she wanted to see how royalty lived. I was relieved to feel the power still cloaking my door, although Bryony made no comment on it. Of course, as an energy mage, she was unable to sense power at all, although she could instead sense the energy in every person.

  Sensing energy was a great advantage in tracking and warfare, but I preferred my own ability to feel power. It was the only characteristic I shared with power mages, and it allowed me to feel in some small part like I belonged in their world.

  I had her place her hand on the door and spoke her name, giving her access to my rooms. No doubt she would barge in on me at some point, and I’d prefer she not trigger my defenses when she did.

  Inside the suite, she poked around while I cleaned up and changed my clothes. My assigned servant had clearly been back because my wardrobe was now full of clean and pressed garments.

  “Well, what do you think?” I asked Bryony, when I re-emerged into the sitting room.

  “It’s more utilitarian than I expected,” she admitted. “Not so different from my accommodation, except that I only have one large room. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised given how long Duke Francis has been in charge. He doesn’t seem the type for excessive luxuries.”

  “I suppose your father knew him when he worked here back during the war years,” I said.

  She nodded. “Father says the duke hasn’t changed at all since he first arrived. He just gets a little grayer every year.”

  “The Kallorwegian court has seen plenty of upheaval in the decades he’s run this Academy,” I said. “It’s fortunate for the kingdom he’s managed to keep their training ground outside of the conflict.”

  Bryony yawned. “Now you sound like my father. Leave the lecturing to our instructors, if you please. My stomach is rumbling, and I don’t want to miss lunch.”

  As if on cue, another bell sounded, and she pushed me forcibly from the room, although I noticed she dropped the contact as soon as we were in the public space of the corridor. It still brought a smile to my face, though. I hadn’t realized how much I was dreading four years of being treated by everyone I saw with either cold formality or thinly veiled malice.

  There was no sign of Royce at the meal. Either he was hiding after his humiliation, or he knew well enough to stay away from Darius for a while after the public rebuke. Either way, I couldn’t regret his absence.

  Tyron sat with us, his manner just as open and friendly as it had been in the training yard. Bryony had told me she paired with him for her first bout and ruled him competent with his borrowed sword, if uninspired. It was a very Bryony sort of description, and I rather dreaded how she might describe my swordplay if ever asked.

  Tyron certainly seemed unflustered at being surrounded by strangers in an unfamiliar environment, and I welcomed his presence with us. Perhaps I would end up with more than one friend, after all.

  We were served soup and roast meat with platters of vegetables and large fluffy rolls, the food just as good as the duke had promised. They were less complex dishes than we had been served the night before, but I found the simpler fare more satisfying after the exertions of the morning.

  While I ate, I took the opportunity to more closely examine the rest of my year mates. Dellion, who had made no further effort to complete her assigned duties as guide, now sat with another tall girl, the two speaking little. I had yet to meet the second girl, but her manner gave no indication of where her loyalties might lie. She looked neither pleased nor displeased to be in company with the queen’s niece.

  At the other end of the table, I was surprised to see that Darius and Jareth sat with Wardell and Armand. Jareth chatted with the two cousins, leaving his brother free to make only the occasional contribution to the conversation.

  Tyron grinned when he saw me watching the group. “Don’t worry. Their Highnesses will make their way around to us eventually.”

  I frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

  “Prince Jareth has only just arrived, but Prince Darius has been here for a couple of days already, and he distributes his royal attention equally among his year mates.”

  Bryony nodded. “Just watch. At the evening meal they’ll sit with Frida and Ashlyn. I suppose it will be our turn tomorrow morning.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “That sounds very…methodical.”

  “I’m told the Kallorwegian court requires a careful hand,” Tyron said.

  I took another mouthful, chewing slowly. It fit with what I already knew of Darius—which was very little, precisely because of this sort of behavior. Reportedly, he maintained a careful balance of neutrality between the factions of his father and his mother, making it almost impossible to guess his true allegiances or intentions, let alone his feelings toward Ardann. I should be glad of it, though. It was the reason my aunt had suddenly found me so useful.

  I glanced from Darius and Jareth to my table companions. Two energy mages from the Sekali Empire and a princess of Ardann. How did we fit into the careful dance of the Kallorwegian princes? Did they resent our presence for complicating their already difficult lives?

  If they did, it would make my own task even more difficult. I sighed softly and took another mouthful. First I needed to survive my first day. The rest would have to come later.

  Yet another bell drove us from our meals back into the corridors. We shadowed the two girls Bryony had named as Frida and Ashlyn, hoping they would lead us to our next class. Their heads remained bent close together, their words too quiet for us to hear, though we walked close behind. From the contemptuous glances Ashlyn kept throwing at Wardell and Armand ahead of them, I wondered if the cousins were the topic of the whispered conversation. The girls certainly knew each other as well as the two boys. And all four of them seemed uninterested in the foreigners in their midst, despite my royal status.

  At least the Kallorwegians seemed to know where they were going, leading us across the entranceway and down a wide corrido
r on the opposite side. Doors lined it, and I remembered Dellion had told me the ground level contained only the dining hall and classrooms. We must be going in the right direction, then.

  Armand stopped at one of the doors, holding it open for his cousin, but letting it swing shut in the face of Frida. Clearly whatever faction these two pairs hailed from, they were on opposing sides. I was fairly certain now that one of the boys was the nephew of the Head of the Creators—who aligned himself on the Mage Council with General Haddon—and one of the girls was the daughter of the Head of the Wind Workers—who usually voted with the king.

  Frida rolled her eyes at her companion before opening the door for herself, holding it open for her friend to precede her. When she saw us close behind, she hesitated, glancing first at something inside the room and then at me. With a slightly pained smile, she held the door wide, allowing all three of us to enter.

  “Thank you,” I said, and she nodded before scampering off to take a seat at a double desk with Ashlyn.

  It wasn’t just Royce and Dellion, then. The rest of our year appeared equally loath to associate with me, although apparently they weren’t willing to publicly offend me, either. Or perhaps Frida was afraid of following in Royce’s footsteps and receiving a reprimand from Darius.

  The room behind the door held six double desks, exactly the number needed for our small year, which surprised me. With so few of us, I had expected to see a large number of empty seats. The front row of three desks were already taken, and I would have slid into the closest seat to the door, except that Bryony strode further into the room, taking the closer seat on the middle table instead.

  I followed behind, raising a single eyebrow at her as I took the further seat at the same desk, placing me across an aisle from Darius and Jareth. Bryony just gave me a smug grin.

  Wardell and Armand had taken the seats in front of the princes, while Frida and Ashlyn had taken the ones at the other end of the row. Between them, and in front of us, sat Dellion and the girl she had joined at lunch. But since they were both sitting straight, their attention trained on the front of the room, I got the impression they were together more out of a mutual desire to avoid Royce than any friendship.

  Unfortunately that left Tyron to sit across the aisle from Bryony with a spare seat beside him. And, sure enough, a moment later the door opened again, and our missing year mate appeared, slipping into the seat beside Tyron.

  Bryony flashed the other energy mage a sympathetic glance only to look quickly forward when the man at the front of the room cleared his throat loudly. When he saw he had all of our attention, he smiled broadly, clapping his hands together in enthusiasm.

  “Ah, I see we are all here. Welcome, welcome to your first day at the Academy. I always love the first day.” He beamed around at us all, but only Bryony beamed back. Everyone else looked somewhere between bemused and unresponsive. Feeling sorry for the effusive instructor, I smiled and received a broad grin in response.

  “And, of course, a special welcome goes to the royal guest in our midst.” He bowed in my direction. “Welcome to Kallorway, Princess Verene.”

  My smile fell away instantly, replaced with a chill that crept up my spine. For the second time that day, I reminded myself they were common enough words, likely to be repeated by anyone. But my earlier ease had disappeared, my spine straightening and my muscles tightening at the lingering thought that it had taken someone of skill to compose on my sitting room wall. And who would be better at composing than the Academy composition instructor?

  “I am Instructor Alvin,” he continued, appearing not to notice my change of manner, “and I will be your composition instructor during your studies at the Academy. Of course I must spread my time across the year levels, but I always like to spend the first day with the first years.”

  He actually rubbed his hands together, his smile growing even broader. “And this year is one of especial interest as we have two energy mages among us. Welcome Bryony and Tyron. I am most excited to delve more deeply into your abilities as well as to see the beneficial effect your presence will have on the compositions of your fellow trainees. I predict this year will surpass our usual expectations by great margins.”

  Everyone in the front row twisted to look back at our desk and the one next to us. I could almost see the calculation in their eyes as they reconsidered their earlier attitudes toward Bryony and Tyron. The two trainees from the Empire might be outsiders, but they were valuable outsiders.

  Darius, however, didn’t even glance our way. No doubt he had long since considered every possible ramification of both their presence and mine.

  Instructor Alvin launched into a lecture on the basic theory behind written compositions, and I let my mind wander. Not only was the information irrelevant to me, but my parents had already covered it in their wide-ranging efforts to test me since my birthday. I was interested to see my year mates actually composing, but apparently we weren’t to advance to such levels on the first day.

  Against my will, my eyes were drawn constantly to my left where Darius sat such a short distance away. If I was bored after the lessons my parents had given me, I could only imagine how uninteresting he found the lecture. He had turned sixteen more than two years ago and must have received extensive private tutoring, despite the official stance against such activities. All mages were supposed to receive their education at the Academy, but royals were well-known not to follow that stricture.

  But as I had already come to expect, I could read nothing on his face. And his eyes never strayed sideways to me. He had rebuked Royce on my behalf, but there was no indication to suggest it had been because of any great interest in me or Ardann. Wishing to avoid a diplomatic incident was one thing, but it was a long way from wanting to open up or forge a close alliance.

  I glanced past the crown prince to his younger brother. Jareth wouldn’t have had Darius’s two years of training, but it was evident he knew the basics the instructor was enthusiastically discussing. Unlike Darius, his face was more open, and he examined his year mates with interest. Perhaps I would have more success focusing my efforts on him.

  But something in me rebelled at the idea, my eyes sliding back to Darius against my will. I had seen the leashed power and authority inside him, and the effect it had on others, and I couldn’t forget it. He might appear cold and detached, but there was no doubt he was a true leader, the kind with the strength to hold a kingdom together by willpower alone.

  And despite the utter lack of encouragement, determination rose up inside me in response to him. I had come all this way and left everything I ever knew, and I had done it to succeed, not to back away when I encountered opposition. Darius was the force to be reckoned with in Kallorway—I could sense it. My aunt wanted me to learn his mind, but I wanted more than that. He was the key to Kallorwegian politics and the ally Ardann needed. I just had to work out how to convince him of that.

  Chapter 8

  When the bell finally rang, releasing us from the tedium, I hoped the day might be over. But when I filed out of the door, the trainees ahead of me were turning toward another classroom rather than the stairs. I followed behind, wondering what else we would be studying.

  I entered the new room expecting to see the same arrangement of desks but was instead greeted with mostly empty space. A single large desk stood at the head of the room with a junior instructor behind it. I looked questioningly at Bryony, but she just shrugged her shoulders.

  “Welcome first years,” the instructor said. “Please approach one at a time and indicate your chosen discipline. I will then direct you to the appropriate room.”

  I blinked at her, my mind trying to make sense of her words. No one else looked confused, although no one rushed forward eagerly either. Duke Francis had said something about discipline studies and choosing a discipline in his visit over the summer, and I had rushed to assure him that I was as ready to study and learn as any other trainee, even if I couldn’t complete the actual compositions. As a
princess, I would never have joined a discipline after the Academy anyway, and learning more about how they functioned could still have use when navigating the court.

  But perhaps I had been too quick with my reassurances. It now looked like I had conveyed the impression of knowledgeability and subsequently missed an important element of difference between how our Academies operated. Ardannian trainees didn’t pick a discipline in first year.

  Still no one moved forward. I glanced at Darius, wondering if he would take the lead, but he hung back near the edges of the room. Perhaps he didn’t want to influence everyone else’s choices.

  Finally, with a shrug, Armand stepped forward and spoke to the instructor in an undertone. If he had been hoping to keep his selection private, he needn’t have bothered. The instructor replied at full volume, her tone displaying no particular interest in his choice.

  “Very well. The creators receive their instruction in room seven. You may proceed there now.”

  She turned her attention to a sheet of parchment in front of her, writing what looked like Armand’s name onto one of the lists there. After an awkward moment of hesitation, Armand moved toward the door, giving Wardell a nod on his way past.

  “We’re supposed to choose a discipline?” I asked Bryony, still trying to grasp what was happening. “Right now? Surely not permanently, though?”

  Dellion, who stood on Bryony’s other side, broke off her thoughtful contemplation of Prince Darius to raise both eyebrows at me.

  “But of course permanently. We have to indicate our chosen discipline so we can begin our studies. Is that not how it’s done in Ardann?”

  “No, not exactly,” I said. “We don’t make our final choice of discipline until after graduation.”

  “After graduation?” She regarded me with faint surprise. “Don’t tell me you do no discipline-specific studies at your Academy? How inefficient.”