“Well,” Francis said. “What brings you here?”
I found it hard to speak. Francis ... Francis had lied to me. He’d said he had a sporting event ... I’d believed him. It hadn’t occurred to me that he might have been sneaking off to be with his girlfriend ... his girlfriend? Lindsey was his girlfriend? Francis was playing with fire. He’d be safer insulting my mother in front of my father. He might be banished, but ...
“Well?” Francis smiled at me. “Cat got your tongue?”
I found my voice. “What ... what are you doing?”
Francis’s smile grew wider. “What did it look like I was doing?”
I glared at him. “Are you crazy?”
“I don’t believe so.” Francis inspected his fingernails. “What brought you here?”
I ignored the question. “You and Lindsey are ... are dating?”
“Of course,” Francis said. “She’s a hot little honey, isn’t she?”
“She’s betrothed, you ...” I couldn’t think of anything nasty enough to fit. “You bloody stupid idiot. She’s betrothed to Lord Richard!”
Francis shrugged. “So what?”
I stared at him, unable to believe what I was hearing. “Francis, Lord Richard is the finest duellist His Majesty commands,” I snapped. “He’ll kill you.”
“I can take him.” Francis didn’t sound like he cared. “Such men are always overrated ...”
“He’s been at the top of the league for the last three years,” I reminded him. Even I had heard of Lord Richard. “He didn’t get that ranking because someone pulled strings on his behalf.”
I took a breath. “And even if her betrothed doesn’t kill you, what about her family? There’s a lot riding on her betrothal, isn’t there? What happens if the betrothal shatters because of this?”
Francis pretended to think. “Nothing?”
“Nothing?” I shook my head. “Nothing?”
I had to fight to compose myself. “His family will blame you,” I told him. “And they’ll try to take it out on your family. Our family. And then ... you’ll probably be kicked out, just for being so” - I made an incoherent noise - “stupid that you shatter a betrothal just for your selfish pleasure!”
Francis’s face reddened. He took a threatening step towards me. “Selfish?”
“Yes.” I met his gaze evenly, refusing to back down. “Didn’t you think about anyone else before you” - I couldn’t put it into words - “before you locked lips with her?”
“And did a little more besides,” Francis said.
I had to force myself to keep my voice steady. “And if you’d been caught by someone else,” I said, “you would have done immense harm to the family.”
Francis glared back at me. “Just like your sister?”
“Yes, just like Isabella!” I stood my ground as he moved closer. “You could have shattered everything.”
Francis looked, just for a second, as if he wanted to punch me. “Do you really think it matters?”
“Yes!” I took a breath. “The family doesn’t need another scandal. Not now.”
Francis stepped back. “Tell me,” he said. “Are you really angry? Or are you just jealous?”
I felt myself redden with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. I didn’t want to admit it, but he was right. I was jealous. There was a bit of me that wanted to be free to date, to kiss, to go further - perhaps - with a girl of my choice. And there was a larger bit of me that wanted to go further with Cat, that knew we would go further if we were left alone. Francis knew me better than I cared to admit. It was easy to envy his freedom. But I couldn’t believe what he’d done.
“She’s betrothed,” I said, again. “What were you thinking?”
Francis leered. “She came on to me, you know.”
“I don’t care,” I snapped. “It doesn’t matter, not now. If Lord Richard finds out ...”
“And who,” Francis asked, “is going to tell him?”
I considered it, just for a moment. Lindsey was betrothed, not engaged. She would have to be out of her mind to tell anyone what had happened, not when it would shatter the betrothal beyond repair. Lord Richard might not care - it had to have crossed his mind that the betrothal would not turn to marriage - but her parents would be furious. And Francis wouldn’t tell anyone ... I swallowed, hard. Was that actually true? Francis had done something pretty stupid just by kissing her, much less everything else. And Alana ...
My mind raced. Alana had told me ... had she been trying to help? Or hinder? I didn’t know. It could easily be both. She was clever that way, careful enough to make sure she came out ahead whatever happened. And ... I wished, suddenly, that Isabella was here. She would have seen the implications, long before I did. My sister was clever that way too.
“You’re insane,” I said, quietly.
“And you’re jealous.” Francis sounded pleased. “Come with me. We can chase girls together ...”
My temper began to rise. “And then ... what? Some of us have to think about the future.”
Francis snorted. “Let the future take care of itself.”
“The future cannot take care of itself,” I snapped. How could he be so obtuse? Francis wasn’t stupid, far from it. “If I do anything, now, it could have consequences ...”
“So what?” Francis held out a hand. “Come with me.”
I was tempted. Yes, I was tempted. I knew - even though I wasn’t supposed to know - that there were places we could go, if we wanted to find girls. And those places would be discreet ... perhaps. I’d heard my uncles talking, when they didn’t know I was listening. Francis had already been ... I swallowed, hard. It was so hard to think straight. And yet, I knew Francis could always talk himself out of trouble. I’d never had that talent. Father would kill me - perhaps literally - if I threw everything away.
“It must be frustrating, sometimes,” Francis said. His face twisted into a leer. “To be betrothed, yet to be unable to do anything with her ...”
“Shut up!” I clenched my fists, ready to throw a punch. “Just ... shut up!”
“Come with me,” Francis said, again. “You can forget her and ...”
“You’re a stupid idiot!” The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them, months and years of bitter frustrations - frustrations I didn’t want to admit existed - boiling out of me. “You don’t think, do you! You just don’t think!”
Francis’s face went very cold. “Say that again. I dare you.”
“You don’t think about the future,” I snarled. “All your bloody life! You just ... get on the field, kick a ball around and everyone admires you! You don’t have to work to get everything you want in life ... you don’t even want very much in life. You just” - I found myself reduced to incoherence - “you just want to have fun.”
He smiled. “And what’s wrong with fun?”
“Some of us have to work to earn our inheritance,” I snapped. “I’ve been entered in the Challenge because Father thinks it will convince the Council to take his place. And you ... you could have blown everything right out of the water.”
Francis smirked. “But it didn’t happen, did it?”
“It could have done that easily, you dolt!” I wanted to punch him. No matter how annoying Francis had ever been, I had never wanted to kill him until now. “You’re not the only one at risk, you selfish prat! You could have brought the entire family crashing down!”
“Don’t be silly.” Francis crossed his arms. “They’d kick me out before anything really bad could happen.”
“You don’t even think about your own best interests,” I told him. “How far do you think you’ll get without the family name?”
Francis’s face darkened. “Further than you.”
I scowled. He was probably right. Francis had a gift for making people like him ... and a fairly complete education. He could change his name, move to a different country and make a new life ... perhaps. I had the feeling he wouldn’t be playing competitive sports
. Or ... or whatever he wanted to do. What did he really want?
“If Lord Richard doesn’t kill you,” I reminded him. “You know how betrothals work. No one is allowed to do anything that might call the betrothal into question. Lord Richard could kill you.”
“I could take him,” Francis said, again. “I ...”
“You’re not even listed in the league tables,” I reminded him. “Lord Richard is at the very top! He won’t even have to break a sweat blowing you to bits. Or were you planning to insist on choosing the weapons? The finest smile? The sharpest dress? The ...”
“It doesn’t matter,” Francis said. “Lindsey isn’t going to tell anyone. I’m not going to tell anyone. You’re not going to tell anyone. And ... how did you find me here?”
I thought, briefly, about telling him the truth. But who knew what he’d do if he knew Alana had told me? Would he try to bargain with her? Or threaten her? Or ... I felt my heart sink as I realised the danger. Alana could blackmail both of us, now. She could demand we threw the Challenge as the price for our silence. I didn’t dare tell Francis what had happened. I had no way to know what he’d do.
“I received a vapour note,” I said. The spell was used for sending anonymous messages. “Someone knows, Francis. Someone who isn’t me.”
Francis shrugged. “Let them try to prove it.”
“You don’t need solid proof for nasty rumours to get started,” I snapped. “And Lindsey might be pressured to break the betrothal if the rumours were nasty enough.”
“So what?” Francis asked. “Does it matter?”
I hit him. His face snapped backwards, his eyes going wide with shock. I wasn’t a sportsman, not by any means, but I was a forger. People often forgot that forging required physical strength. Cat was no taller than her sisters, but she was a lot more muscular. Francis caught himself, somehow, and threw himself at me. We crashed to the ground, rolling over and over as we tried to fight. It wasn’t easy. He was the better fighter, but I was used to physical discomfort. And we were too close together for either of us to do anything clever. The fight might have gone on for a long time if he hadn’t cast a shock hex. The blast picked us up and threw us in different directions.
He stared at me. I could see blood trickling down his face. I ached ... he’d hit me in the chest, hard enough to break a rib. I gritted my teeth, ignoring the pain. It wasn’t as bad as being hit with fragments of molten metal. Or a torture curse. I’d had worse.
“The family matters,” I snapped. I sounded just like my father. “The family gives us everything, from a place to live to a proper education and training in magic that is millions of miles ahead of anything the commoners get. The family gives us everything! And we are expected to work for it in return. Anything, for the family!”
“Anything, for the family,” Francis mocked. He touched his jaw. It didn’t look broken, and I hadn’t felt it break, but I didn’t know. “Are you really that naïve?”
“Are you?” I stared at him. “What would you be without the family?”
I felt cold and grim and ... unsteady. I’d traded hexes before, with dozens of people, but physical violence? I’d never hit anyone before, not even Francis. The idea of hitting Isabella or Penny - no matter how much she bullied her charges - was horrifying. Better to turn someone into a frog than slam my fist into their face. And yet ... I could feel the sword at the back of my mind, reminding me that I’d killed. I felt sick. I didn’t want to kill again.
“I would be fine,” Francis growled.
I looked at him for a long moment, feeling my anger slowly being replaced by despondency. I felt ... I felt cold and bitter and ... how well did I know Francis, really? How well did I know anyone? Isabella’s betrayal had caught me by surprise too. I should have seen it coming.
“If you say so,” I said. I didn’t have the energy to push it. “But you know what?”
“Enlighten me, oh great master,” Francis said.
I felt a flash of anger, even through the fog that was settling over my thoughts. I wanted to wound him. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted ... Francis, who shrugged off everything, to feel something. I wanted ...
“You’re off the team,” I said.
Francis gaped at me. “What?”
“You’re off the team,” I repeated.
I turned, squared my shoulders and marched away. I’d seen team captains do the same - I’d seen Francis do the same - whenever they kicked a teammate off the team for poor performance. It was a ritual, Francis had explained, to make it absolutely clear that the unlucky player wasn’t worthy. He had never been kicked off a team, of course. Not until now.
My back itched. I felt the sword snarling against its bonds, demanding ... blood. It felt as if Francis was going to throw a hex at my back. I tensed, bracing myself to counter a spell or simply dive out of the way. But nothing happened. I marched through the door, slammed it behind me and headed down the corridor. It wasn’t quite as easy to hold the pose as it looked.
I glanced around as I walked back to the suite, feeling dazed. Everything had turned upside down so quickly. I couldn’t believe it. I’d known Francis was capable of being an idiot - I’d done enough idiot things to make me violently cringe, in my younger days - but courting a betrothed girl? He was mad. Even if nothing happened, even if Lord Richard and Lindsey’s family never found out ... I swallowed, hard. There would be no guarantee of that, whatever happened. Who knew how many others might have seen Francis and Lindsey kissing and kept it to themselves? Or put it in a letter to their parents? I honestly wasn’t sure what I should do. Tell my father? Or would that simply start the avalanche rolling?
And without Francis, I asked myself, can I win?
I stopped and sighed. Louise and Saline would stay, but what about Tobias and Harvard? They’d been Francis’s picks. Tobias might stay - he needed my patronage - but Harvard? I wasn’t so sure. He might easily quit, if his patron had been kicked off the team. Or if Francis brought pressure to bear on him. Francis was Sports Captain. A word in the right ear could destroy Harvard’s hopes of succeeding him.
Idiot, I thought, nastily. I wasn’t sure who I meant. Francis or Harvard ... or me? He really should have known better.
I half-expected to run into Lindsey as I entered the upperclassman dorms, but there was no sign of her. What was she doing? Would she come to me and plead for my silence? Or would she rely on Francis to convince me to say nothing? Or ... I shrugged. Perhaps she’d reason I couldn’t say anything. Francis was my friend, as well as my cousin ... right? I’d hardly do anything to harm him ...
Hah, I thought. What sort of cousin betrayed the family? And what have I just done?
Putting the thought aside, I stepped into the suite. There was no sign of Louise and Saline. Alana must have sent them back to their rooms. I was almost relieved. I was in no state for talking to either of them. But Alana herself was sitting on the sofa, sipping a mug of hot chocolate. She waved to me, cheerfully, as I entered.
“Akin,” she said. She’d changed into a comfortable white nightgown that clashed oddly with her skin. “I think we should talk, don’t you?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“It’s too late to talk,” I said, as if I had a choice in the matter. “Can we talk tomorrow?”
Alana took a sip of her chocolate. “Tomorrow is another day,” she said. “Tonight.”
I groaned. “Let me get a drink,” I said, resignedly. It felt late, even though it wasn’t firstie bedtime yet. “And then I’ll join you.”
Alana nodded her assent. I walked into the kitchen and heated a mug of milk, taking my time as much as possible without slipping into blatant rudeness. I needed to think. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Alana wanted to talk now, after she’d ... after she’d ratted out Francis to me. It had to be important. Alana couldn’t want to be branded a sneak, even though she was in her final year. Father had warned me, more than once, that what we did at school would haunt us for the rest of our lives.
I picked up the milk and headed back into the sitting room. Alana was still sitting on the sofa, waiting for me. The white nightdress drew my eye without ever quite revealing anything ... I bit my lip, hard. She was going to be my sister-in-law. She was already my rival, my competitor ... my lips quirked. Our relationship was going to be complicated ... it was already complicated. In hindsight, perhaps we should have worked together from the start.
“It’s been an interesting day,” Alana said. Her dark eyes rested on mine. “Don’t you think?”
I shrugged. “It’s been a very long day,” I said. “What do you want?”
(The Zero Enigma Book 6) The Family Pride Page 23