Love's Labor's Won (26 page)

“Jade isn’t,” Emily said. She thought, briefly, of all the marriage offers she’d received — and the thousands Void claimed to have received. None of them had been interested in anything but the children she might bear. “He doesn’t come from a royal family.”

“I know,” Alassa said. “Why do you think I like him?”

Emily stared down at the ground, one hand wiping away her tears. None of the princes had struck her as decent men; one had been a brain-damaged lunatic, one had been a lecherous swine, and the others had been somewhere in between. The thought of having to share the rest of her life with one of them was bad enough, let alone the thought of sharing a bed. And Alassa would have willingly accepted one of them, if it had seemed necessary.

But Jade? Jade was decent.

And he is a good match for her
, she thought, bitterly. It still hurt.
They’re both smart, they’re both fond of physical exercise, and they’re both...they’re both determined. And who would try to pick a fight, in court, with a combat sorcerer?

And he doesn’t share the problem of inbreeding...

And yet, it still hurt.

“My father would have had me marry you, if you had been a boy,” Alassa said. “He knows I need someone formidable as a husband. Jade...is formidable, without actually being a threat to me — or to my father.”

Emily flushed. Zed had offered her, perhaps in jest, a potion that would change her gender, permanently. A joke...or a subtle revenge on King Randor?

“I don’t know,” she mumbled. “I just don’t know.”

“I need you to help me,” Alassa said. “Please...”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” Emily asked. She felt betrayed and isolated and abandoned and alone, in the midst of a heaving castle she owned. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

“Emily...”

Emily rose, and stalked towards the door. “I need to think,” she snarled, as the wards resisted her passage. She tore them down with swift, efficient spells. “Leave me alone!”

Alassa came up behind her and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Emily, I...”

“
Leave me alone,
” Emily snapped.

The last ward came down; she pulled free of Alassa, and stomped out the door. Outside, thankfully, the corridor was deserted, although she heard the band playing in the distance. She walked down the corridor, away from the sound, and up towards the library. Baron Holyoake had resisted anything that smacked of learning, but Emily had insisted on receiving a copy of everything printed in her lands. Her library already had thousands of volumes, ranging from makeshift novels to textbooks and research papers. And it was still expanding...

“But why not now?” A voice asked as she entered. “We’re engaged!”

Emily looked up. Gaius stood in front of Melissa, who leaned against one of the bookcases. She looked angry, her arms crossed just under her breasts. Magic crackled between them. It was all that was keeping Gaius from pushing further into her personal space, Emily realized, as they both turned to look at her. Gaius met Emily’s eyes for a split second, then he turned and walked past her, out the door.

“Emily,” Melissa said. She sounded both defiant and depressed, an odd mixture. “Tell me something.”

Emily glowered at her. She didn’t
like
Melissa. How could she, when Melissa had decided she was to blame for Alassa becoming a much more capable magician? And whatever Alassa had done to start a fight with Melissa had happened long before Emily had arrived at Whitehall. But she couldn’t help feeling sorry for her, too. Gaius had clearly been trying to push his luck.

“What?” She snarled. “What can I tell you?”

“You’re the sole child of Void, a Lone Power,” Melissa said. “Is it easier being such a child than the heir to a magical family? To have one person to please, instead of hundreds?”

“I don’t know,” Emily said. At another time, she would have offered to talk, but now...all she wanted to do was collapse. “Void has been a very eccentric presence in my life.”

“But I bet he’s proud of you,” Melissa said. “The Matriarch finds fault with everything I do, no matter how well I do. I could come back home with full marks, the praise of every teacher at Whitehall and an honor award...and I would still have her picking holes in my work.”

She sighed, then walked past Emily and headed for the door. “You don’t know how lucky you are,” she said, bitterly. “To have a father who only shows himself from time to time. My father is dead...”

“I’m sorry,” Emily said. “I...”

“My grandfather wouldn’t object if the Matriarch ordered him to walk off a cliff...and he’s meant to be the Patriarch,” Melissa said. “And
she
...nothing ever pleases her.”

She nodded once, and walked out the door. Emily stared after her, raised a ward to seal the library, and collapsed into one of the chairs. Alassa and Jade, Melissa and Gaius...her emotions were too mixed up for her to think clearly. Instead, she closed her eyes and tried to force herself to relax.

It hurts
, she thought, again. It was a bitter thought. Logic told her she should be happy for her friends. There were no grounds for objection, save for the pain.
Why does it hurt
?

But her thoughts provided no answer.

Chapter Twenty-One

S
HE LOST TRACK OF HOW LONG
she remained sitting in the library, lost in the tangle of her own thoughts. It seemed like hours, or perhaps only bare minutes, before she felt a familiar presence pushing against her ward. She wanted to channel the strength to keep Imaiqah out, but she couldn’t muster the energy. Instead, she allowed the ward to open far enough to allow Imaiqah to enter the library, then closed it behind her.

“Emily,” Imaiqah said. She walked over to where Emily sat, curled up in a chair, and sat down next to her. “How are you feeling?”

“Awful,” Emily growled. “I...did you
know
about this?”

Imaiqah met her eyes. “That Alassa and Jade want to get married?” She asked. “Yes, I knew.”

Emily wasn’t surprised. Alassa and Imaiqah had become friends over the past two years...and, in some ways, they were closer than Emily was to either of them. They had more in common, including
Ken
...and besides, Emily had been at Mountaintop for part of Third Year. And besides, Imaiqah was far more perceptive when it came to emotions than Emily herself. She’d probably known that Alassa and Jade had feelings for one another before either of them had admitted it.

And they shared a room
, she thought.
Did Imaiqah ever leave them alone together in the room?

“They should have told me,” she said, finally. “I could have handled it.”

“Alassa was afraid to tell you,” Imaiqah said, bluntly. “She...is not in a very comfortable position.”

“I could have handled it,” Emily repeated. But she thought she understood. Alassa might not have dared to get close enough to consider marriage — or a fling. There were definite advantages to the match, but also several weaknesses. King Randor might refuse to even consider the possibility. “Does her father know?”

“I’d be surprised if he didn’t have someone here keeping an eye on them,” Imaiqah said. “And he
has
been surprisingly indulgent with
both
of them.”

Emily frowned. How many bad romantic movies were based around the bodyguard falling in love with the millionaire’s daughter or the pop star with the awful singing voice? In hindsight...had King Randor known all along? He might just have given Jade the job so he could see what his daughter’s prospective husband was made of.

She shrugged and looked at her friend. “Why does it hurt?”

Imaiqah looked back. “Do you want me to guess?”

“Yes,” Emily said, flatly.

“I think part of you thought of Jade as
yours
,” Imaiqah said. “He’d asked you to marry him, not the other way around. You thought of that as a commitment, even after he changed his mind and you
both
decided it would be better not to get married.”

“But I didn’t think of him as mine,” Emily said. “I
knew
we weren’t going to get married.”

Imaiqah gave her a long considering look. “I’m not saying your feelings have to be logical, or smart,” she said. “Men do the same with us, of course. If they think a girl is theirs, they will
keep
thinking a girl is theirs, even after they move on. I’ve had quite a few boyfriends who thought they had a claim on me, even after we broke up.”

Emily flushed. “But...Jade’s different.”

Imaiqah laughed at her. “Everyone says that,” she said. “Or something about how
she
is the only person who can make a good man out of him. Or about how everyone else doesn’t know him the way she does. Or...”

She shook her head. “I think you have another problem,” she added. “You have some...issues with abandonment, don’t you?”

“No,” Emily said.

Imaiqah ignored her. “You don’t make friends easily. And you’re hellishly loyal to the friends you
do
make. I think part of you thinks that Alassa and Jade will go off together and leave you alone, even though they’re
both
your friends. And you reacted badly, even if you don’t want to admit it, because you thought you were being abandoned.”

She had a point, Emily admitted, privately. But...it still hurt.

“I don’t think you can really say you have a claim on him,” Imaiqah said. “Alassa was worried that you might feel you did, which is partly why she said nothing to you. But how do you feel?”

“Stupid,” Emily said.

“That’s a good answer,” Imaiqah said. “Tell me. Do you want him?”

Emily shook her head, firmly. She couldn’t envisage spending the rest of her life with Jade.

“Then what’s the problem?” Imaiqah asked. “Apart, perhaps, from you feeling blindsided and stung because no one told you?”

“She said I was selfish,” Emily muttered. “I...”

“Lots of people say things they don’t mean,” Imaiqah said. “Alassa is no different from anyone else, even though she’s a princess. I won’t say she isn’t attracted to Jade, because she obviously is, but marrying him solves a great many other problems at the same time.”

Emily nodded. Alassa was nineteen and, by the laws of Zangaria, had been of marriageable age ever since she’d started to have menstrual cycles. The longer she waited, the greater the chance King Randor would find someone for her to marry, someone who might not make a great husband. And time wasn’t on her side. The low birth-rate of anyone who shared the Royal Bloodline meant Alassa needed to start trying to produce a heir as soon as possible, preferably before the barons decided to try to cause trouble again. King Randor might delay proceedings until the end of Fourth Year, but she doubted he would delay them much longer.

“I’ve been stupid,” Emily said.

“Far be it from me to disagree,” Imaiqah said, dryly. “Consider yourself lucky. My mother would have been furious if I’d acted the way you did.”

“Lady Barb will be, once she hears about it,” Emily said. It struck her, suddenly, that there might already be rumors spreading through the castle. Both Gaius and Melissa had seen her here in the library, obviously upset. “I don’t think I’ve treated her very well, either.”

“No, you haven’t,” Imaiqah said. She stood and paced over to the bookshelves. “But then, Alassa didn’t handle the matter very well. If she’d told you before the Faire started, you could have shouted at each other for a while, and then gone back to being friends. Or Jade...he could have told you, too.”

Emily sighed. “Is it wrong of me to wish I felt nothing?”

“It depends,” Imaiqah said. “Would you give up happiness as well as sadness, love as well as hate...?”

“You’ve made your point,” Emily said, quickly. “But it isn’t going to be easy to get used to it.”

“I seem to recall
someone
demanding to know why I went out with so many boys,” Imaiqah said, dryly. “Do you find that better or worse than Alassa courting Jade?”

Emily looked up. “Did
you
date Jade?”

“I try not to date boys who are more than a year or two older than me,” Imaiqah said. “Jade is...what? Five years older?”

That
, Emily knew, wouldn’t be a problem. Alassa had been introduced to a handful of princes who were ten years older than her, while some of the others who’d sought her hand had been in their late fifties. Compared to them, Jade was remarkably close to her age. And he wouldn’t be motivated by either a lust for power or a lust for her personally. A trained sorcerer could have his pick of young women looking to boost their bloodlines.

And he likes her
, Emily thought.
That has to count for a lot, too
.

“I owe Alassa an apology,” she said, as she stood. “Where is she now?”

Imaiqah didn’t bother to pretend to be surprised by the question. “In her rooms,” she said. “I don’t think she’s too happy, but at least she’s not hexing everyone in sight.”

Emily winced. Given what she’d said to Alassa, being hexed might be the least she deserved.

“Then we’ll go see her,” Emily said. “I need to talk to her.”

“You could wait,” Imaiqah said. “Talk to her tomorrow, when you’ve both had a chance to sleep on it.”

Emily shook her head. “I just want to get it over with,” she said. She hated the thought of fighting with her best friends. “Please.”

“Then I suggest you clean your face, first,” Imaiqah said. She produced a pocket mirror from her robe, and held it in front of Emily. “You look a mess.”

Emily sighed. She’d never been vain — if she hadn’t been cured of vanity years ago, living close to Alassa would have made sure of it — but Imaiqah was right. Her face was streaked with tears, while her hair had come loose and was hanging over her shoulders. And there were stains on her tunic.... Irritated, she wiped her face dry with a handkerchief, while Imaiqah helped clean up the dress. She might not look particularly regal, she decided, but at least she didn’t look as though she’d been crying.