“His mother certainly retains enough support that she could prove a challenge to him if he chose to openly support his father,” Hugh said.
Raelynn’s face twisted in disgust. “Never mind the queen. It is their grandfather who worries the princes, you mark my words. The man has grown hard during so many years questing after power. You would think he would be content to see one of his blood sit the throne, but he wants utter loyalty. If you ask me, the prince is worried about a sinister end if he lets his support for his father show too strongly before he has secured the full might of the throne.”
“Raelynn, hush!” Hugh said, warning in his voice.
She looked indignant but subsided with a wary glance at me.
“I am appreciative of your sharing with me so openly,” I said. “You may be sure that I won’t cause either of you trouble. I’m sure everyone will assume that any information I have comes from my own family.”
Hugh nodded gravely. “We thank you for your circumspection. Raelynn allows herself to get carried away at times, but we bear no ill will toward anyone at court.”
“No, of course not,” I said with equal gravity.
Hiding one’s true feelings was a necessary part of maintaining decades of neutrality, and I had no intention of causing the kind couple any difficulties.
A distant bell sounded, its ringing muffled inside the office. I stood.
“With that in mind, I had best be on my way to breakfast. Thank you again for assisting me.”
“After so many years of teaching, you get to have a sense for people,” Raelynn said. “And you’re a good girl, I can tell—for all you’re Ardannian.” She glanced at her husband. “We would live to see Kallorway at true peace with our neighbors once again, if at all possible. Perhaps you are the means to achieving such an end.”
“It is my most earnest desire,” I said. “It will not be Ardann that stands in the way of such peace.”
“See,” Raelynn whispered to her husband as he held the door open for me. “I told you she was a good girl.”
He looked at his wife and then me, his eyes grave. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and hesitant.
“You must understand, Princess Verene, that the Kallorwegian court has stood for many years in careful balance. There are certainly some who still carry hatred for Ardann, but there are more who fear the consequences of upsetting that balance.”
For a moment he looked as if he meant to continue, but then a sound from the corridor outside the library made him pause and give his head a small shake. I waited for a moment, but he said nothing more.
“Thank you, Hugh,” I said in a quiet tone. “I understand.”
I hurried out of the library and down the hall, my mind whirling. I could understand his reluctance to say anything about Ardann, and I appreciated that he had been willing to comment on the matter at all.
What he had said made sense. If Ardann were to make a formal treaty, it wouldn’t be with the captain of the Royal Guard or even the queen. If we made an alliance, it would have to be with the crown, and such a thing could wreak havoc on the existing balance of power. The initial careful disinterest of my year mates made more sense now, but what did it mean that the Head of the Wind Workers was making overtures? Had the king and his faction decided the potential gain of such an alliance outweighed the risk of antagonizing their opponents in their own court? Or had the general had some way of blocking them that they had now managed to circumvent?
For every answer there were more questions. And I still needed to find a way to extricate myself from the Midwinter party without offending anyone of significance.
I moved slowly toward the central stairs, trying to think of an acceptable solution. Several people passed me, bowing or curtsying briefly, and I nodded at each of them. Most were servants, but the last to pass my way, heading downstairs, wore a gold robe.
Only after I had acknowledged his silent greeting and he had passed on, did my mind fully grasp that it was Captain Vincent. I paused, about to step out onto the staircase. Captain Vincent. He was responsible for the safety of those at the Academy, and Layna had assured me he showed every sign of taking his task seriously. Why had it not occurred to me to tell him of the sabotage to the training yard?
My mouth opened to call after him, but I closed it again before any sound emerged. What exactly had Layna told me? That he was young for the seniority of his position and newly appointed to his post by the king himself. Given Ashlyn’s invite that should make him safe, but I couldn’t be sure. There was too much that I still didn’t know.
No, I couldn’t risk telling him. Not until I had more information.
But his presence, and the thought of the potential danger that lurked for me here in Kallorway, triggered a thought in my mind that grew into a fully formed plan. It was so obvious, in fact, that I didn’t know why I hadn’t thought of it before. Hugh had emphasized balance, and this was the perfect way to achieve just that.
Chapter 17
Instead of heading downstairs, I turned up, climbing to my own floor. But I didn’t turn right toward my suite. Instead I hurried down the opposite corridor, entering the open door that led to the waiting room outside Duke Francis’s office. The next door through into his office also stood open, and he looked up from his desk at my entry.
“Your Highness, please come in.”
I entered, and he indicated for me to close the door behind me.
“I trust you have recovered from your unfortunate injury.”
“Yes, thank you. Raelynn was most skilled in her healing.” I moved forward to stand before his desk. “I come on another matter.”
He laid his pen down, giving me his full attention.
“Certainly, Princess Verene. How may I help you?”
I folded my hands in front of me and spoke in my primmest voice. “I wish to ascertain whether the strictures you have put in place about my not leaving the Academy grounds on rest days extend to the holiday festivities as well.”
“Ah.” He sat back, surveying me carefully.
“Naturally,” I said, still in the blandest of voices, “as your guest here, I shouldn’t wish to embark on any course of action that might cause you alarm.” I widened my eyes slightly. If Duke Francis was as dedicated to neutrality as everyone claimed, then he would be my ally in this.
“Ah, yes, indeed. I see.” He regarded me for another moment. “That is most considerate of you, Princess Verene. And I can assure you that if you were to leave the Academy grounds over Midwinter, it would indeed be a matter of some concern to me.”
“It had come to my attention that perhaps it might,” I said. “And your promises to my parents must, of course, be given the ultimate consideration.” I paused. “However, it causes me some distress to think that I might miss the opportunity of celebrating with my new year mates. With that in mind, I would like to ask you a favor.”
The duke sat up straight, a gleam of interest in his eye. “You find me most curious to hear what it might be.”
“I wonder if you would permit me to host a Midwinter Ball here at the Academy. Naturally I should wish to include all of the trainees and instructors in the invitation, and not just my own year mates.”
“I see.” The duke steepled his hands together, looking as if he meant to speak, but I continued on.
“But I should not wish any of my fellow trainees to be separated from their families for the festivities, if it can be avoided, so I would propose that the families of the trainees also be invited. I think,” I said with a small smile, “that such a thing would be unexceptionable. And—naturally—I should insist upon bearing the expense of such an event.”
“Naturally.” The duke sounded amused.
My family had told me before I left home that I wasn’t to consider funds an issue, but this was the first time I had encountered any reason to spend their gold. I could now understand why they had thought I might find such an opportunity. I just hoped they would approve of my decision.
“I understand,” the duke said, “that in Ardann, socialization among year mates is considered an important element of the Academy experience.”
“It certainly is,” I said. “And I am greatly desirous of forming such close bonds with my Kallorwegian year mates.”
Duke Francis nodded slowly. “I do not see how anyone could take issue with a princess of Ardann hosting a cultural event to celebrate Midwinter with her fellow trainees and their families. Such a thing is—as you say—unexceptionable. And naturally you could not hold it anywhere but here at the Academy.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I am most grateful for your assistance. I’m afraid I’m not familiar with all the trainees here, let alone their families, so I was hoping you might be willing to send out the invitations.”
The duke nodded again, briskly this time. “I shall see to it personally. And I shall put you in contact with Zora. She is the head servant here and will oversee the practical details for the ball.”
His attention returned to the parchment in front of him, and I took the gesture as a dismissal. Hurrying from the room, I wondered if there was still time to make breakfast. But a rumble in my stomach was drowned out by the bell. I was too late.
I headed straight for the external doors, already thinking longingly of my lunch. Bryony pounced on me in the entrance way, though.
“There you are! I was about to dash up to your suite. Here, I grabbed this for you.” She thrust a sweet roll at me which I accepted eagerly as we continued on to class. “Are you feeling better?”
I nodded, my mouth too full to answer with words.
“Good. I was worried when I didn’t see you at breakfast.”
“So-wwy,” I said around my mouthful.
“No more trouble from your ankle?” she asked in a low voice.
I swallowed hurriedly. “No, nothing like that. Just the exhaustion.”
Movement behind us caught my eye, and I realized Darius was close behind. He was looking at me with a question in his eyes, the slightest crease between his brows.
“This morning I was busy taking care of something else,” I said to Bryony, my voice unnaturally loud. “But it’s all been arranged now.”
Bryony threw a confused look over her shoulder, her bemusement only deepening at sight of the prince.
“Well, that’s good…I guess.”
“Are we in the arena today?” I asked, forcing myself not to look backward again.
“I think so. It seems to amuse Mitchell to move the days around.”
“I think it’s part of the training,” I said. “We always have to be prepared and all that.”
Bryony yawned, clapping her hand over her mouth. “Well, my sword and I are always prepared, that’s for sure.”
But when we sat in the arena seating, facing Mitchell, he surprised us yet again.
“Today we will be experimenting a little differently from usual. All trainees will participate in the battle, but there is to be no use of power compositions.”
“No compositions?” Royce looked unimpressed. “So we’re to battle like commonborns?”
Mitchell gave him a superior look. “I didn’t say no compositions.”
“Yes, you di—”
“Energy compositions!” Bryony cried over the top of Royce’s protest. She clapped her hands in excitement.
Our instructor nodded. “Soon you will begin experimenting in your discipline classes with the impact of extra energy on your ability to compose. But it is a rare situation where you will have the luxury or capacity to compose in the middle of a battle. That does not, however, mean that extra energy is without value. As you have all experienced, battle itself is physically exhausting, and it is all too easy to make a fatal mistake if forced into combat when your energy reserves are low.”
“Sounds like a pretty useless exercise to me,” Royce muttered. “How often will we have an energy mage available in the middle of battle—and how much good would a little extra energy do anyway?”
But he hadn’t pitched his voice low enough, and Mitchell heard him. Directing a quelling glare at Royce, the instructor responded to his murmured complaints.
“Do not forget that the activities you undertake here at the Academy are training. They will not always correlate exactly with real world situations. But you may rest assured that every exercise has been selected by those more knowledgeable than yourself with the purpose of training some aspect of your ability. You are not the first mage to underestimate the importance of energy—and some of them have not lived to tell the tale. If you do not wish to join them in the grave, then I suggest you show your instructors and the exercises they set a little more respect.”
He regarded Royce with narrowed eyes, letting a moment of taut silence stretch out before continuing. “And, as for the matter of having an energy mage available…” He raised an eyebrow. “I can only recommend you start treating your year mates with a little more respect as well. You may find it greatly assists in that particular endeavor.”
Royce flushed and glanced sideways toward Bryony and Tyron. Mitchell, however, was already continuing, his attention now on the whole class.
“You will soon find yourself assigned exercises in composition that may seem repetitive but which are designed to increase your stamina. You must think of this battle in much the same way. The point is not the actual fighting, nor even victory. The purpose is to make you more aware of your own energy and of how quickly it can become drained. The more you grow your awareness of your own energy levels and reserves, the more capable you will become of both physically exerting yourself and composing without pushing your limits too far. As you know, there are few dangers to a mage as great as the danger of pouring too much power into a composition. If you fail to sufficiently monitor your energy, then you are at far greater risk of such an end.”
“So how will the battle work?” Tyron asked.
“You will captain one team and Bryony another,” Mitchell said. “I hope you have both come equipped with sufficient compositions.”
Bryony nodded eagerly. “We’ve hardly had any opportunities to use them yet.”
“You may pick your teams one at a time, starting with you, Tyron.”
“Prince Darius,” Tyron said without hesitation.
“Prince Jareth,” Bryony countered swiftly.
“Princess Verene,” Tyron said, catching me by surprise.
I blinked at him while Bryony gave me a regretful look and named Dellion as her next teammate. I had assumed I would be picked last, forgetting for a moment that no one was permitted to use power compositions. I sat a little straighter, a smile spreading across my face. We were being judged purely on our skill and strength with a sword, and I had suddenly become a valuable team member.
The whole class was soon divided up, and we were instructed to gather in our teams on the arena floor. Only when we were actually standing together did I realize that it would be my first time fighting alongside Darius.
As well as the crown prince and me, Tyron had selected Wardell, Ashlyn, and Isabelle. As we clumped together, he handed out a roll of parchment to each of us. I unfurled mine and read a basic energy composition to give whoever worked the composition a boost of energy. It looked familiar because I had attempted it myself under my parents’ direction.
“What’s our strategy?” Darius asked.
Tyron shrugged. “I’m only captain because I’m the one with the compositions. I suspect I would do better to leave the strategizing to you.”
Darius accepted the transfer of leadership without surprise or comment.
“We’re evenly matched without high ground or the ability to make any. Nor do we have any shelter or element of surprise.”
Wardell cracked his knuckles with a surprising amount of anticipation on his face. “So a good old-fashioned brawl, then.”
Ashlyn rolled her eyes and said something under her breath to Isabelle, who chuckled. Wardell just grinned and winked at them both.
“We need to go for Frida, Armand, and Royce,” I said.
Darius caught my intention quickly. “If we can remove any of their players—even the weakest members—we’ll gain superiority of numbers.”
“They’ll try to stop us, of course,” I said. “But we have to try evasion rather than engaging them. Once we let Bryony, Jareth, or Dellion corner us into a fight, we’ll risk them employing the same strategy against us.”
“So you’re saying evade and avoid.” Wardell shook out first his neck and then both his legs. “I can do that.”
Mitchell approached, ordering us all to hold out our swords. He ripped a number of compositions, pointing at each blade in succession.
“You will now find that your edges are temporarily blunted,” he said. “We can’t risk twelve sharpened blades flying around in a battle without shields of any kind.”
“Will you be calling the fatal blows?” Darius asked.
Mitchell nodded. “If I call your name, you should return immediately to the arena seating.”
Apparently he had already completed the exercise with the other team because we were directed to take our places on opposite sides of the arena. As soon as he declared the bout begun, all six of us tore the compositions in our hands.
The force that hit me was far greater than I expected, my whole body contracting violently at the unexpected foreign substance pouring into it. But a moment later any discomfort was overwhelmed by a wave of buoyancy. So much energy filled me that I felt as if I could lift off the ground entirely and float into the sky. Everything around me looked sharper, and the air in my nose and mouth was crisp and clear. How had I not noticed what a beautiful day it was?
Something else nudged at my senses, but before I could get a grasp on it, Darius yelled, “Go!”
My feet responded before my mind could even repeat the command. I ran for our enemies with my teammates spreading out on either side as we sprinted forward.
Crown of Secrets (The Hidden Mage Book 1) Page 15