Crown of Secrets (The Hidden Mage Book 1)

by Melanie Cellier

  But as the minutes passed, my feeling of peaceful solitude slipped away. People kept walking down the corridor outside, and a bright flare of energy entered the room next to mine.

  The newly arrived energy might have been easier to ignore except for two things. One, it burned with more strength than most of those I had encountered, thanks to the leftover excess from our arena battle that morning. And two, I knew it belonged to Darius.

  The awareness burned in my mind, making it impossible to forget how close he was. He paced up and down his room, and I could think of nothing but how much he would hate me being able to track his movements in such a way.

  Power always hung about him—shields, I assumed. Constant shielding required an excessive use of power, and few attempted it. But Darius was both important enough and strong enough to be an exception. No doubt shields had been the first compositions he had trained to create after turning sixteen.

  But there was so much power everywhere in the Academy, including coating half of his room, that I no longer noticed it. This feeling was different, though. It was so new I hadn’t yet learned how to push it from my mind, and it was part of him in a way his shields weren’t.

  And so I tracked his movements, even while I tried to force my mind away. When he came closer, though, I sat up, no longer pretending disinterest.

  When he hesitated, directly behind my tapestry, I bounded to my feet and rushed across the room. Pushing aside the heavy material, I yanked open the door just as he raised his hand to knock.

  As soon as I saw his face, I realized my mistake.

  “You’re full of surprises, Princess.” The intensity of his expression belied his light tone.

  I stepped aside, and he entered my sitting room.

  “Perhaps I’ll have to come and visit you one day,” I said. “If you’re going to keep dropping in on me like this.”

  He turned, fixing me with such a piercing stare that I dropped my eyes.

  “Perhaps one day you will,” he said at last, and it was impossible to tell from his tone whether or not he welcomed such an idea.

  “I’m sorry about your loss today,” I said. “You fought well. I should have been more help, but I was…distracted.”

  “I noticed.”

  My eyes flew back to his. How had he noticed that in the middle of the fight? Or did he mean afterward? I had been abstracted all day.

  “I’m sorry,” I repeated.

  He brushed my words aside. “It was a good strategy, and it might have worked if things had gone differently.”

  I sighed. “If I hadn’t been so easily defeated.”

  He paused, the moment stretching out into a strange awkwardness between us.

  “I heard Bryony mention your ankle,” he said at last. “Was that…”

  “My ankle? No, it’s fine. I mean, it was injured, but Raelynn healed it. I was only tired from the healing yesterday.”

  His brows drew together. “You injured it badly enough to need Raelynn? How did that happen?”

  I mentally kicked myself for letting so much slip.

  “Practicing with Bryony on the rest day. It was a clean break.”

  “A break?” He stepped closer, and I had to steel myself not to step back. “It was that bad? Just from a bout with Bryony?”

  I bit my lip. Darius had far more experience with practice fights than Raelynn. Unlike the older healer, he knew just how unusual it was for an experienced fighter to receive such an injury from a friendly bout. Especially on even ground like a training yard.

  “There was a…hole,” I said reluctantly. “My foot landed in it.”

  He froze, his unnatural stillness making the hairs on my arms stand on end. Somehow I had said too much.

  “Why weren’t you practicing in the training yard?” he asked, his voice harsh.

  “We were.” The words were wrenched from me reluctantly.

  “There are no holes in the training yard,” Darius said, danger in his voice now.

  I said nothing in response, our eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. I could feel a strange anger emanating from him, though, and read the implacability in his eyes. At last I sighed.

  “There are no holes there now. But they were there early in the morning on the rest day. The whole yard was littered with them—concealed ones.”

  “Someone sabotaged our training yard?” The anger in his voice was no longer restrained, and I shivered at the sound of it, although it didn’t seem to be directed at me. He looked too savage for the soft lighting and gentle elegance of my sitting room.

  “On our rest day,” he added.

  He said no more, but he didn’t need to. One thing I had never doubted was his understanding, and he had made it clear he was keeping a close watch on me. Neither of us needed to say what we both understood.

  “It was a foolish prank.” I shrugged, trying to defuse the moment. “There was no chance of any real damage being done—not with Raelynn on hand.”

  “The Kallorwegian Academy does not tolerate such wasteful pranks.”

  I raised an eyebrow and glanced at the patch of my wall that was still cleaner than the rest of the stones around it.

  “Does it not?”

  His eyes followed mine, and his frown deepened.

  After a pause, he said, “At least it did not before.” He looked back at me. “Who have you told about this?”

  I shrugged. “No one. Bryony was there, of course, but Raelynn thinks it was just an accident.”

  “No one?” His eyes searched my face.

  I shifted uncomfortably. “Despite my misstep yesterday—when I was suffering the unnatural exhaustion that comes after a healing—I am not usually incautious. It is obvious someone is unhappy about my presence here. But until I know who and why, I don’t intend to go blundering into a situation I don’t understand.”

  “I will find out who they are,” Darius said, and the fire in his voice made me sure he would succeed, although I couldn’t imagine how.

  “I hope you’ll tell me when you do.” I kept my voice light.

  He paused, looking at me as if he hadn’t considered doing so. I raised a challenging eyebrow at him, and he slowly nodded.

  “Of course.” Another pause. “I heard about your plans for a Midwinter Ball.”

  “Well?” I asked coolly. “Will it do? Ashlyn didn’t seem offended by my retracting my acceptance—at least not once she heard my alternative plan.”

  He nodded almost reluctantly. “It should work.”

  “Will your family come?”

  “I think you have effectively tied their hands. How could they not come to spend the holiday with their two children and attend the most exclusive event of the year?”

  A look of actual amusement crossed his face as if he found humor rather than offense at his parents being maneuvered in such a manner.

  “I’m glad it meets with your approval,” I said. “I was wondering if you would prefer to return to the capital for the break.”

  “Prefer the capital? When I have finally managed to break free from it? No indeed.”

  He spoke quickly, almost thoughtlessly, and I didn’t immediately respond, unused to hearing him speak without restraint. My silence seemed to bring him back to himself, and he gave me a formal half-bow.

  “But I hope you will keep that to yourself.”

  “Of course.” I offered him a tentative smile. “I am aware of the unpleasant combination of tedium and tension that so often accompanies royal functions. It is freeing to spend so much time away from them.”

  “And yet, there is no true escape,” he said, almost too quietly to hear. “At least, not yet.”

  I raised both eyebrows at that, but he wasn’t looking at me. What escape was there for either of us? Royalty wasn’t a birthright you could walk away from.

  He shook himself slightly, the movement barely a ripple. But it seemed to signify he knew he had grown too loose in the dim privacy of my sitting room.

  “You will
excuse me for barging in on you once again, Princess.”

  He offered me another half-bow and crossed back to the door, passing me on the way. But in the doorway, he hesitated and glanced back.

  “But I didn’t barge in on you, did I? How did you know I was there, Verene?”

  Caught off guard by the question when I had thought him almost gone, I could think of no immediate explanation. He stepped back toward me, not needing to move far to place us close together.

  “And you claim you weren’t distracted by your ankle during the fight today. Something else happened. What are you not telling me?”

  “I don’t have to share all my secrets with you, Prince of Kallorway,” I said.

  He slowly raised both eyebrows. “So you admit you have secrets?”

  “I thought you were convinced I do,” I murmured.

  “Yes, but you denied it. And now you do not. Interesting.”

  He leaned in closer and then closer still. One of his hands reached up and brushed back a loose strand of my hair so he could place his lips beside my ear.

  “Make no mistake about it, Verene,” he whispered, his breath sending ripples up and down my spine. “I intend to discover all of your secrets.”

  He pulled back, cold air rushing in to take his place. I blinked once, and the door was closing behind him, the tapestry dropping back into place. I shivered.

  I told myself I was glad he was gone, but my room felt strangely empty without him, and the temperature seemed to have dropped several degrees.

  If this was his new tactic for winning my compliance, then I was frighteningly weak to it. Because the more I saw of the true fire behind his ice, the more fascinated I became with a prince who seemed to view me as part challenge, part enemy.

  Chapter 19

  As the days passed, I grew used to my new ability, just as I had predicted. I learned to largely tune it out, just as I did with the sensations of power all around me. And I also learned how to read it, noticing when those around me were tired or full of energy.

  When I scolded Bryony one day for pushing herself too hard while restocking her compositions, she marched me straight back out of the dining hall. In the empty entranceway, she put her hands on her hips and demanded I finally tell her what was going on.

  I confessed what had happened and endured the inevitable deluge of questions. It proved just as painful as I had anticipated to see my own progression of emotions mirrored in her face, the excitement and hope dulling as I assured her I had tried everything. When she finished by giving me a bright smile that looked slightly forced, I almost winced.

  “This is still exciting,” she told me. “It’s quite a useful ability to have, you know. And if it’s not too late for you to develop this new ability, who knows if you might still develop another?”

  I shook my head firmly. “Such dreams are best left in my childhood, Bryony. Don’t encourage me. There is precedence for a delayed awakening of sensing energy. There’s no precedence for someone who could not compose suddenly learning to do so.”

  She deflated a little.

  “But don’t worry,” I said. “I’m quite adjusted to the whole thing now. And I’m ready to look on the positive side. Any ability is better than none, and I now have a link to both the power mages and the energy mages.”

  I smiled at her, but when she didn’t smile back, my expression dropped into a frown. “Please don’t be upset I didn’t tell you immediately. I just needed some time to process it all.”

  “I understand. Some things are difficult to talk about.” The significant look she gave me reminded me that Bryony had secrets of her own. We all had our different burdens to bear.

  Eventually the weather turned cold enough that she no longer forced me outside on our rest day mornings, instead contenting herself with driving us both up and down the many flights of stairs. She was determined that if we couldn’t have a proper practice, we would at least stay in shape.

  Secretly I enjoyed the forced exercise. With my body pushed to its limits, my mind let go of everything that crowded inside it, entering a state of peaceful nothingness that I almost never achieved.

  Bryony often led us up and down the hidden stairs frequented by the servants and along the separate corridors they used. The mages of old who had built the Academy hadn’t liked the idea of the servants using the same spaces as them. But I often saw servants on the main stairs and in the wider mage corridors now, and I hoped it was a positive sign of change. Just as I hoped they didn’t mind our invasion of their space.

  At the very least they grew used to us, flattening themselves against the wall at the sight of our approach instead of dropping into a bow or curtsy. And from the smiles on many of their faces, I think they found our training runs more amusing than anything. Or perhaps it was rather bemusement as to why we punished ourselves in such a way by choice.

  We were glad of the freedom to use the hidden spaces once Midwinter drew close. The families of the trainees poured into the Academy, and as a princess of Ardann, I couldn’t allow powerful members of the Kallorwegian court to see me red-faced, puffing up and down the stairs. But I had also never been so in need of the stolen moments of peace the exercise provided.

  Zora, the Academy’s head servant, had turned out to be even more competent than I could have hoped. Knocking on my sitting room door one evening, not long after my conversation with the duke, she had proven herself intelligent and experienced.

  After ascertaining that I understood the likely cost of an event on such a scale—and being assured that I was fully supportive of her hiring such extra help as she could find in the local towns and villages—she had softened considerably. Her efficient list of subsequent questions made it clear she had the capability for the task, and as our conversation wore on, she even began to display true interest.

  I explained how we decorated in Ardann, and our traditional holiday fare, and we had a lively discussion about the similarities and differences with Kallorway. She seemed to think the cook would welcome the challenge of the new dishes, and she was full of ideas on how to procure the necessary decorations.

  By the time she left my room, I had full confidence about the success of the event. And, sure enough, as Midwinter approached, decorations appeared around the Academy. They were an artful blend of the usual Kallorwegian ones and the style I was used to from home, and seeing them gave our regular classes a holiday feel.

  I didn’t know how Zora had procured the shiny red berries that only grew in the foothills of the southern Grayback mountain range, located on Ardann’s eastern coast, but I appreciated the sight of them woven among the more traditional deep green Kallorwegian garlands.

  I did know where the floating golden lights came from, however. All the composition classes had been making them for weeks.

  When Royce dared to complain, Alvin had merely asked where he left his holiday spirit. But Dellion had tossed her head and given him her best haughty look.

  “You never learn, Royce. Instructor Mitchell told us to expect such tasks. How else are we to increase our stamina?”

  Royce had ceased to complain after that, but the poisonous looks he shot at Dellion’s back increased.

  A royal messenger had finally arrived from Ardann, allowing me to send back my stack of letters, the one with the request for funds marked urgent. The promised riches arrived, the amount generous enough that I was able to tell Zora to give all the regular servants a Midwinter bonus to thank them for the extra work the event was creating. I saw a marked increase in the smiles I received on Bryony’s and my morning runs after that, so I didn’t regret my impulse.

  The day before Midwinter, the royal party arrived. I had half-expected to be evicted from my suite for the duration of their stay, but none of the trainees were moved. Apparently suitable accommodation had been found elsewhere in the Academy.

  Classes had finished the previous day, and the same group who had greeted me on my arrival were arrayed in the entranceway to welcome th
e king and queen. Duke Francis had sent for me, saying that since I was hosting the event, I must be sure to greet my most illustrious guests.

  I stood with Darius on one side of me and Jareth on the other, conscious that it was the closest I had been to the crown prince since our last encounter in my sitting room. He gave no acknowledgment of that interaction, however, and I schooled my features into similar indifference.

  Jareth seemed full of good humor, laughing over my head at his brother and making quietly mocking comments to me in an undertone as we watched members of the court drift into the entranceway to await the king’s arrival.

  Darius attempted several quelling looks, but his brother merely laughed them off. I couldn’t help but be amused at some of his more outrageous observations, doing my best to suppress the chuckles that bubbled up. But at the same time, I wished I could take several steps away to distance myself from him.

  I resented the picture we must present, especially with Darius beside us, stiff and formal. Although it was obvious they were close, the two brothers couldn’t be more different. Darius was cold and closed off in public but allowed me glimpses of his true self when we were alone. Jareth, on the other hand, had a consistently friendly manner, and yet had never made the least effort to seek me out or get to know me.

  A new arrival slipped up to stand just behind me, and I turned to give Bryony a grateful look. I had considered asking her to accompany me—especially given what I had learned about the significance of our friendship in the eyes of the court—but I had not done so. Bryony was not only basically family, she was also my best friend. I would not ask to use her in such a way.

  But when she stepped up to join me of her own volition, I accepted the support gratefully. And when Tyron appeared a moment later to stand beside her, I was even more grateful. I had far less claim on him than I did on Bryony, but with the two of them behind me, I didn’t feel so alone.

  Jareth turned to greet them both with the same ease he had displayed chatting with me. But when the king and queen at last arrived, he stood as straight as Darius, his focus on his parents.