Crown of Secrets (The Hidden Mage Book 1)

by Melanie Cellier

  The first thing I noticed about King Cassius was that he had his son’s dark eyes. The second was that he also had his son’s cold face. But I had learned that Darius’s ice was a mask, hiding the fire that burned beneath. Looking at the king, I had to suppress a shiver. There was no hidden gleam in his eyes—he looked as if his ice ran soul deep.

  Queen Endellion came in on his arm, although she touched it with only the lightest pressure of her fingers. No one looking at them would suppose there was any love lost there. The queen’s face did light up at sight of her sons, however, and she dropped the contact with her husband to hurry forward and embrace them both.

  The king seemed to find the display distasteful, but he made no protest, instead greeting the duke and the various courtiers who had lined up for his attention. When he reached us, the queen stepped back, and I curtsied to them both.

  “Mother, Father,” Darius said, “may I present Princess Verene of Ardann, Academy trainee.”

  “Your Majesties.” I forced a smile onto my face. “It is a pleasure to meet you both.”

  “And this is my grandfather, General Haddon,” Darius continued, drawing my attention to the older man who had entered behind the royal couple. He was tall and imposing, despite his age, and he surveyed the entire crowd as if we were all beneath him.

  “I have had a great curiosity to meet the Ardannian princess who would study in Kallorway,” Queen Endellion said, her voice cool and regal. “I am most charmed.”

  She inclined her head toward me, the sandy hair that both her sons had inherited piled up in an elaborate arrangement that made my own simple braid seem insufficient. I let none of my insecurity show on my face, however, as I returned the gesture.

  “So you are Elena’s daughter.” King Cassius had a note in his voice when he said my mother’s name that made all my senses prick with unease. “You don’t look like her—although you’re short enough, I suppose.”

  Beside me, Darius grew impossibly stiffer. He had told me once that he considered his father’s judgment clouded by his resentment toward my mother. I should have been expecting the king’s disdain. But it still took all my willpower to keep my face and voice impassive.

  “I’m told I look like my grandmother, Queen Verena.”

  The king made a noncommittal noise in his throat and moved on to greet his sons. I kept my posture rigid and my face calm, knowing we still had an audience.

  When the king glanced back in my direction, I took a step to one side, more clearly revealing Bryony and Tyron behind me.

  “Please allow me to introduce two of our fellow trainees, energy mages Bryony and Tyron.” I indicated each of them with my hand as I said their names, and they both gave a deep bow.

  The king’s eyebrows lowered, and he looked from them to me. His wife stepped into the breach, expressing her pleasure at meeting them, and her hope that they might have a chance over the holiday to spend some time together.

  Tyron regarded the king and queen with almost as much interest as they showed in him, but Bryony was doing a poor job of concealing her dislike. I should have foreseen her reaction and told her to stay away. She saw my mother as a beloved aunt, and she didn’t have my training on keeping her emotions hidden.

  But the duke stepped forward, ready to show the king and queen to their accommodation, and the moment passed. As soon as the crowd began to break up, I gripped Bryony’s arm and whispered urgently in her ear.

  “You’re going to have to hide your feelings better than that, Bree! They aren’t fellow trainees, remember. We can’t afford to offend them, no matter what they say.”

  “I would certainly recommend keeping your true feelings hidden from my parents,” Darius said in a low voice.

  I jerked, my heart racing at his unexpected closeness. But by the time I had registered his presence there, he was already gone, lost in the crowd.

  Bryony raised an eyebrow. “That was almost…friendly? By the prince’s standards, anyway.”

  I shrugged. I hadn’t told her about the prince’s visits to my sitting room, or the charged interactions we’d had there. Friendly wasn’t a word I would use to describe him, but our relationship was certainly far more complex than it looked on the surface.

  I had thought I would be trapped into another formal evening meal in Duke Francis’s dining room that night, but apparently the queen insisted on a private family meal. It was a natural request, since Midwinter night itself would be taken by the ball, and it neatly avoided the question of who would have been included in a larger event. The duke’s room wasn’t big enough for all the courtiers who had gathered to spend the holiday with their children.

  The next morning I was woken by Bryony jumping on my bed.

  “Go away,” I mumbled. “I was enjoying one of the few days a year we don’t have those incessant bells waking us up.”

  “But I have something for you.” She gave several more enthusiastic bounces.

  “Don’t want it,” I groaned, trying to bury my head under my pillow. “Just want to sleep.”

  The pillow was whipped away, and I groaned again. “I’m writing to Layna and requesting a new set of compositions for my door, especially keyed to keep you out.”

  “Ha! You know you love me.” She lobbed a small wrapped item onto the sheet near my head and began to look around the room. “Now where’s my present?”

  “Ah, now we come to the truth of it.” I sat up and pointed an accusatory finger at her. “That’s why you’re here at the crack of dawn.”

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s hardly the crack of dawn.” She scrambled down from the bed and flung open the curtains. “Look! I’ve been terribly restrained.”

  With a final grumble, I admitted the morning looked reasonably advanced and directed her to the wardrobe. She flung open the doors with so much enthusiasm that I couldn’t help smiling.

  Along with the letter from my father—at least half of which was clearly dictated by my mother—and the funds from my aunt, had come a package from my Aunt Coralie. And since my earlier collection of letters had told them all about Bryony’s unexpected presence at the Academy, the package had contained not one dress but two.

  I had told Bryony her gown was my Midwinter gift to her, and she would have to wait until Midwinter morning to see it. Naturally she had been dying of curiosity ever since.

  My own dress was a predictable red with gold embroidery—the colors of the Ardannian royal family. But the color looked striking against my dark hair, and my aunt had chosen the design well. The skirt had enough size to give me some presence without looking ridiculous on my small frame, and the fitted bodice and elegant neckline reminded me I was a princess and not just a first year trainee.

  Bryony nodded approval at the way the shaped neckline swept off both my shoulders, leaving my collarbone completely bare, but most of her attention was focused on her own dress.

  With my friend, my aunt had been able to be less constrained. She had chosen a gown in a deep, warm purple that made Bryony’s skin glow. Its high collar hinted at the style of robes worn by the Sekalis, but the resemblance to a robe ended there. Her arms were bare, and the fitted dress was balanced with a soft edge thanks to the folds of silken material which fell from mid-thigh to the ground. It looked restrictive to me, but Bryony was in raptures over it.

  We spent a lazy morning together in my suite before the whole afternoon was absorbed by ball preparations. Two maids appeared after lunch to help us, telling me they had been sent by Zora. One of them proved excellent at arranging hair, and I sent even more silent blessings in the head servant’s direction. The woman truly was a gem, and I hoped Duke Francis gave her sufficient appreciation.

  We were at last declared ready and allowed to escape. Since I was officially the host of the event, we were the first to arrive, ready for me to greet the other guests. The only room large enough for a ball was the dining hall, and it had been closed since breakfast. The extra servants hired for the occasion had delivered everyon
e’s lunches on trays to their rooms while the transformation of the hall was underway.

  Despite my confidence in Zora, I still gasped when we slipped through the doors, closing them behind us. The space was utterly unrecognizable.

  Soft golden globes floated in the air, creating a false ceiling that gave the room an otherworldly air. I knew they were fueled by compositions from all the trainees, and I hoped seeing them here would give my fellow students a sense of pride and ownership in the event.

  The tables and chairs had all been cleared away, except for one long table against the far wall, laden with so many delicacies I feared its legs would collapse. Bryony exclaimed and ran straight for it, falling on a plate of Ardannian pastries which she declared she hadn’t eaten in forever.

  But I took a moment to spin in the middle of the room, taking in the garlands and red berries that decorated the walls. They sparkled in the light of the globes as if dusted with shining gold, an effect that must have been achieved by either the fourth years or perhaps an instructor. It was certainly beyond the capability of a first year.

  A small platform had been set up against the left wall, and a group of musicians sat there, tuning their instruments. When they struck up a practice tune, I wondered if they had somehow been brought from the capital. It would be unusual to find so many skilled musicians in the small populations that lived near the Academy.

  Zora appeared silently beside me, and I had to restrain myself from embracing the woman.

  “You are a true wonder!” I told her. “How did you achieve all this?”

  She gave a satisfied smile. “When you’ve been somewhere as long as I’ve been at the Academy, you learn what you need to learn. Even managing mages becomes easy after enough practice.” She winked, surprising a laugh out of me.

  “You are full of surprises.”

  “You’re not quite what I expected either, Princess,” she said. “But we’re about to open the doors, so it’s time for you to be in position.”

  I nodded and moved to stand next to the entrance. Two servants in formal dark green uniforms opened the double doors, securing them in place. And within moments, the first of the trainees arrived, their families in tow.

  I smiled and nodded and murmured welcomes for so long that my throat grew parched and my feet sore. The room filled up, the bright gowns giving it even more of a festive air.

  I received many compliments on the arrangements and the style. Everyone seemed determined to be pleased, although I knew the guests included many from both sides of court.

  Tyron arrived alone, and I sent him in search of Bryony, whispering suggestions for which dishes he should try. He gave a low whistle at the state of the room, not appearing too grieved to be without his family, although I felt sad on his behalf.

  I had done my own grieving that morning, softened by the presence of Bryony. I was used to a formal ball at Midwinter, but I usually spent the day leading up to it with my parents and brothers, and the day after—my father’s birthday—was always spent without any formal functions at all, by my mother’s decree.

  I pushed the thought away. I had chosen to come here. I wouldn’t allow myself to be distracted now that I had the opportunity to make the kind of impression my aunt had sent me to make.

  I looked around the room of chattering, dancing people. Did the ball communicate what I wished it to? Did the members of the court look around and think to themselves, Ardann is rich, and gracious, and inclined toward friendship? I hoped so.

  At last I saw King Cassius and Queen Endellion crossing the entranceway toward me. Once I had greeted them, I could finally be released from my post. Any more latecomers would have to join the party without ceremony.

  The royal couple stopped in the doorway, Cassius coolly surveying the crowd while the queen cooed over the decorations. I curtsied to them both.

  “You’ve done a lovely job, my dear,” Endellion told me, and I accepted her thanks with a smile, as I had to, although it felt wrong to take the credit for Zora’s work.

  “I hope you enjoy the celebrations,” I told them. “And the small taste of Ardann. It is my family’s desire that all future holidays might be celebrated in such unity and amity.”

  Cassius turned to look at me properly for the first time, his eyes sizing up my appearance and his lips turning slightly downward. But he didn’t actually protest, merely giving his wife’s arm a slight tug.

  “Come, let’s get this over with,” he said.

  “Really, Cassius,” she whispered before their steps took them out of hearing range.

  “Never mind them, everyone else looks like they’re enjoying themselves.” Jareth stepped through the door behind his parents with a friendly smile.

  I returned his smile, my own well-practiced by now. But a moment later my eyes caught on Darius, now standing in front of me, and my face froze.

  Chapter 20

  I had never seen him dressed formally before, and if I had thought his presence commanding in a trainee’s robes, it was nothing to how he looked now.

  He wore a gold circlet on his head, heavier and more elaborate than the one nestled among my own dark locks, but he didn’t need it to proclaim his royal status. His clothes were a severe black, alleviated only by a purple sash across his chest, partially overlaid over a second gold one.

  He gave a shallow bow while my mind scrambled to recover my previous calm.

  “My apologies for my family,” he said in tones low enough that only I could hear.

  Was he truly embarrassed by his family’s behavior, or merely concerned for the political ramifications if I reported his father’s offensive attitude back to my own family? He had himself firmly under control, icy indifference the only emotion visible on his face, so I couldn’t tell.

  “This is a day for celebration,” I said, managing to find my tongue. “Do not think of it.”

  He inclined his head toward me in acknowledgment of my words before turning to survey the transformed dining hall.

  “Zora is to be congratulated,” he said.

  I blinked at him. He knew the head servant?

  But of course he did. Perhaps she was the source of his information about the extra cleaning my room had needed on my arrival.

  “She’s done an incredible job,” I said. “I’m most appreciative of her efforts.”

  “Are you?” His eyes weighed me in an entirely different way from his father’s.

  It seemed a rhetorical question, so I remained silent. Darius was intimidating and unsettling enough as a fellow trainee—I had no idea what to make of him as a crown prince among his court.

  “I suppose it is left to me to ask you for a dance,” he said. “At some point in the evening.”

  I bit my lip, for some reason more offended by his wording than his father’s open disdain.

  “Don’t feel yourself obliged, Your Highness.”

  He raised an eyebrow, trapping me with an intense stare. “Is that a refusal?”

  Part of me longed to say yes, but my courage failed me. Or perhaps it was merely my sense of duty reasserting itself.

  “Of course not, Prince Darius. As the host of this ball, I would be honored to dance with you.”

  “Good.” His eyes still held mine, something flashing in their depths. “Because I intend to claim one.”

  He stepped into the moving crowd, and I was left standing alone, reminding myself to breathe.

  Thankfully Bryony emerged and pulled me toward the food table, reminding me that I’d barely touched my lunch.

  “I’m not having you collapse in the middle of the ball. Especially not if you’re going to dance with Prince Darius.” She grinned at me wickedly. “Doesn’t he look too delicious for words all dressed up like that?”

  “He looks dangerous,” I said.

  “Mmmm.” Bryony almost purred. “The delicious kind of dangerous.”

  “Bree!”

  “What? Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. That boy is far too handsome fo
r his own good.”

  “Or anyone else’s,” I muttered, turning to select something to eat so I wouldn’t have to give a real answer. I wasn’t ready to admit to anyone, even Bryony, just how much I noticed everything about Prince Darius.

  The food tasted as delicious as it looked, but I wasn’t left to enjoy it for long. Royce was the first to ask me to dance, clearly pushed into it by his family, and I was forced to acknowledge that despite his many faults, he was elegant on a dance floor.

  After that, the invitations came non-stop, many from courtiers decades older than me. I accepted as often as I could, smiling and making every effort to be charming as I answered their questions about Ardannian Midwinter customs and how I was enjoying my studies. No one was tactless enough to mention my well-known lack of power, although plenty of them were full of curious questions about my energy mage friends.

  To my surprise, I even began to relax somewhat. It felt so much like a royal function at home. I might be out of place in a composition classroom, but here in a ballroom, I knew all the steps. It took little effort to turn away prying questions with a light answer and to seem congenial without promising anything. I had been practicing such skills my whole life.

  With such a crowd of people, I saw little of my year mates, although I was surprised to spot Wardell and Frida dancing, as well as Armand and Isabelle. I caught sight of Jareth at one point, leading his cousin Dellion out onto the floor, which seemed a bold move considering I had seen him conversing with his father only moments before.

  But when I later caught sight of him in a corner of the room laughing at something his grandfather was saying, the dance made more sense. He seemed far more at ease with the old general than he had with his father.

  I had so far managed to avoid more than a brief introduction to the general, and even that interaction had been tainted by Raelynn’s dire words, ringing through my mind. It was easy to see how someone might find him a forbidding figure since he spent the dance watching from the wall, his expression haughty. The smiles he had given his younger grandson were the only ones I saw him bestow the entire evening.