Love's Labor's Won (49 page)

“An interesting statement,” Randor observed. “Particularly as Jade’s name was once romantically linked with yours.”

Emily fought hard to keep her face under control, although she was sure that Randor could read
something
from her expression. The double standards had never seemed quite so hypocritical. Randor might have taken a hundred lovers, but he expected his wife to remain loyal and his daughter to remain chaste...and, too, his prospective son-in-law. Jade would hardly be the first person to have affairs before or after marriage and he would definitely not be the last.

“Jade and I were friends,” she said, flatly. She might have liked the idea of a father figure — a genuine father figure — but Randor wasn’t going to be it. “There was nothing between us, not really.”

“Your father disapproved,” Randor said. “Or did you?”

Emily hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “Jade is a good and decent person,” she said, finally. “He’s smart, a capable magician, and a trained combat sorcerer. But he is also not the type of person to meld well with me.”

Randor smiled. “And you think he would meld well with my daughter?”

“There are many advantages to such a match,” Emily said. “He would not involve Zangaria in foreign affairs, nor would he excite resentment among the barons, nor would he seek to take power for himself. And he would be capable of giving Alassa a level of protection, and care, that few others could match.”

“But he is not a nobleman,” Randor pointed out, smoothly.

“He is a sorcerer, which ranks him as equal to a nobleman,” Emily countered. She shook her head inwardly in amusement. “And if he were to marry Alassa, the barons would not feel slighted because one of their number had been promoted, nor insulted because an inferior nobleman had been promoted above their heads.”

“You haven’t answered my real question,” Randor said. “Do you think he would meld well with my daughter?”

Emily smiled, suddenly. Randor cared about Alassa! It had sometimes been hard to tell, but she saw it now. He might have had to use his daughter as a piece on the kingmaker board, he might have done his best to have a male heir...and yet, he cared about his daughter. She wasn’t sure what to make of it, but it was there.

“Alassa is a very active person,” Emily said. “She isn’t stupid, far from it, but she prefers to be active rather than study. She loves to hunt, she loves to play games, she even set up her own team just so she could play
Ken
. She’s immensely competitive and focused on getting what she wants...”

She hesitated, then went on. “Jade is much the same,” she added. “He loves to hunt, to walk through the countryside, to climb mountains, even to play games. I remember him playing Scrum and carrying on, even with a broken nose. He and Alassa are well-matched. And he’s loyal, protective, and caring.”

Randor studied her for a long moment. “And you believe he will care for her?”

“Yes,” Emily said. Jade had comforted her, shortly after she’d almost killed Alassa. And then, he’d tried to help her out of her shell. And he’d been one of the few who hadn’t looked doubtfully at her after she’d killed Shadye. “Jade will be loyal and caring to whoever he marries.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Randor said. “But there are political considerations involved.”

Emily took a breath. “There are more than just
political
considerations involved,” she said, after a moment. “Your majesty, Alassa has
chosen
him. She is to succeed you as ruler of this country. What will happen if she takes the throne without a person she chose at her side?”

“I didn’t choose my wife,” Randor said, flatly.

“It’s different for girls,” Emily said. Actually, she had no idea how boys felt about arranged marriages, but they were granted far wider latitude than girls. “More to the point, how could she find a better match? How could she find someone who will complement her, rather than try to overshadow her?”

“An interesting point,” Randor observed. “But should she be allowed the freedom to choose?”

Emily placed firm controls on her temper. Snapping at the king wouldn’t help.

“Alassa is nineteen, pressing twenty,” she said, “and a capable magician to boot. She is old enough to make her own choice, your majesty, and old enough to bear a permanent grudge if you choose badly. Jade offers her everything she wants and needs from a marriage.”

“But he lacks the social polish of a born aristocrat,” Randor said. “What happens when he has bastards?”

“Everyone has bastards,” Emily snapped. God knew everyone thought Void, a sorcerer who could presumably use contraceptive spells, had at least one bastard. “I think Jade is much less likely to leave litters everywhere than some of your barons.”

Randor smirked, unpleasantly. “Point,” he said. “They do tend to cause problems when they grow old enough to know what they’re missing.”

Emily barely resisted the temptation to point out that Randor had presumably tried desperately to have a son, even a bastard son, of his own. The laws concerning illegitimate children were vague, deliberately so, but as long as the father acknowledged them they could be considered legitimate. And yet, the laws would complicate matters if Alassa had had an illegitimate child. Would the child still be part of the royal family if the father was definitely
not
a member?

“He saved her life at least twice, while she was at the Faire,” Emily added. “I think you would not be able to find a better man to marry her. And she
wants
him.”

“And tell me,” Randor said. “How do you feel about it?”

Emily shrugged. She was damned if she was going to expose her feelings to Randor.

“I think they will make a wonderful couple,” she said. “And I am very happy for them. I will be happy to support them, if necessary.”

Randor peered at her for a long moment. “And you have no feelings for him at all?”

Emily blinked. “We are friends,” she said, tartly. “And that is all we ever were.”

It struck her, suddenly, that Alassa had to have been panicking ever since she’d fallen for Jade. A word from Emily to her father could ruin everything. Emily was a baroness, after all, and the person who had saved Randor’s throne. No wonder she’d been so reluctant to talk about it.
She
might have known, or believed, that Emily wasn’t interested in Jade, but her father couldn’t have taken that for granted.

Not when so much is at stake
, she thought.
The barons could unify round me to resist the match
.

“She loves him,” she said, simply. “And he loves her. And they are good together, for all the reasons I bet she outlined.”

Randor smiled. “And the dangers of insulting the nobility?”

“They can’t
all
marry her,” Emily said, remembering just how many suitors had clustered around Queen Elizabeth. She’d played them all masterfully but, in the end, she’d failed in her duty to provide England with an heir. It had been sheer luck that James I had been waiting in the wings. “If she marries Baron Silver, your majesty, Baron Bronze and the others will be insulted. Let her marry a complete outsider and spite them all equally.”

“The only baron who would not think of marrying her would be you,” Randor observed.

Emily wanted to roll her eyes. There wasn’t a baron — apart from Emily herself — who
wasn’t
married, with children. As far as she knew, the oldest Baron was easily old enough to be Alassa’s father. But they would happily put their wives and children aside, just for the pleasure of being king. They’d have done it even if Alassa had been so ugly she looked like a toad someone had tried to transfigure into a human. The prestige of being king would be more than enough reward.

“I don’t think I can marry her,” Emily said, dryly. There were no actual laws against homosexual marriage in Zangaria, probably because no one had ever felt the need to write them. But open homosexuality wasn’t highly regarded by anyone. “We certainly couldn’t produce children.”

“A terrible weakness,” Randor agreed. “I will grant my consent to the match.”

Emily blinked. That easily?

He knew
, she thought. In hindsight, it was clear.
He knew, and approved all along
.

“I think they will be very happy together,” she said. “And he would make a good consort.”

“I should hope so,” Randor said, tartly. He leaned back in his chair and stroked his beard thoughtfully. “I understand you have been asked to be Maid of Honor?”

“I would like to know more about the post before I agree,” Emily said. “Last time I agreed to something before learning what it actually involved, I nearly got a great many people killed.”

“Yes, you did,” Randor agreed.

He studied her for a long moment before he went on. “Alassa tells me that you’ve been having doubts about being a baroness.”

“Yes,” Emily said. She knew she shouldn’t turn down his gift, even in private, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to keep it. “I do not think I am suited for the post.”

“I could tell you stories about some of the other barons that would haunt you at night,” Randor said. “You have caused problems, yes, but so have the other barons.”

“I wasn’t trained for the post,” Emily said. “I...”

“
They
were,” Randor countered. “And many of the ones who inherited from their fathers caused far worse problems for their subjects than you.”

He shrugged. “I knew you would have problems coming to grips with the task,” he said, after a moment. “But you have a long life ahead of you. You have time to learn.”

“But I do not want to spend my entire life there,” Emily said. “There’s an entire world to explore.”

“And magic to be done, I imagine,” Randor said. He gave her another smile. “That’s what managers are for, Lady Emily. Hire more, give them a basic set of orders, and then leave them to handle the job.”

Or set up some form of democracy
, Emily thought. She had no idea how well democracy would work, when there was no underlying agreement that everyone was theoretically equal, but it might be better than everything else.
Something that lets people handle their own affairs
.

Yeah, right
, her own thoughts answered her.
And what would democracy say the next time you have to tackle an unsavory contract?

“I will see what I can find,” she said, reluctantly. “But I won’t have managers abusing the population.”

“Then don’t let them,” Randor said.

He reached out and clapped her on the shoulder. “You have a long way to go,” he said, “but I am sure Alassa will be with you.”

Emily nodded, slowly.

“But tell me,” Randor said. “What are these
guns
?”

“They’re something new,” Emily said. “They will change the world.”

She outlined the basic concept, keeping some of her thoughts to herself. Guns wouldn’t just make it harder for the barons to defend their castles; guns would make it easier for the commoners to rise up against the nobility. It took months to train a soldier, and years to train a combat sorcerer, but how long did it take to learn to use a gun? If King Randor saw all of the implications, he might want to shut down the whole program.

But Nanette’s notes are still out there
, she thought, grimly.
Who knows who else might be making guns and gunpowder now
?

Randor frowned. “And why should I tolerate such a big change?”

“Because you need it,” Emily said. “What happens when the necromancers come over the mountains?”

“Zangaria doesn’t border the Blighted Lands,” Randor said.

“But that could change,” Emily said. “They could punch through Whitehall or a dozen other spots and march north. And then all hell would break loose.”

She wondered, suddenly, what would have happened to Shadye if he’d been lured onto a giant landmine. It would be simple enough to hide the gunpowder, and detonate it when the necromancer was standing on top of it. Would it kill him, make him lose control of the stolen magic, or would it just make him madder? There was no way to know.

“We will see,” Randor said.

He rose, signaling that the interview was at an end. “Lady Barb has requested permission to take you back to Whitehall tonight, rather than wait for dinner,” he said. “Do you wish to remain here to eat?”

Emily hesitated. It had been seven hours since they had left Cockatrice, but it felt longer, even though she’d managed to catch some sleep in the coach. Part of her wanted to stay long enough to chat with Alassa, congratulate her and Jade on their impending marriage, and then make arrangements for Frieda. The rest of her didn’t want to stay any longer in Alexis than strictly necessary.

“I think I should go with her,” Emily said. If nothing else, she had a lot to talk about with the older woman. “But will you take care of Frieda?”

“I will ensure she is looked after,” Randor said, gravely. “You may go.”

Emily rose, hastily curtseyed, and walked out of the room and up towards Alassa’s chambers. Somehow, Emily wasn’t surprised to see Lady Barb when she entered, chatting with Jade and Alassa while Frieda read a book, boredom clearly written on her face. Emily smiled at her, and grinned at Alassa.

“Your father has approved the match,” she said. “Good luck.”

She looked away as Jade and Alassa embraced. She was happy for them, really she was, but part of her felt nothing more than envy. It would be nice to have a caring partner. Lady Barb shot her a sharp glance and rose.

“I have some preparations to make,” she said, “so we will leave in an hour. Be ready.”

Emily nodded, and turned to her friends. “Make sure you don’t have
too
big a wedding,” she warned. “You’ll be overwhelmed.”

Alassa sighed. “I have to invite everyone,” she reminded Emily. “Or someone will start feeling left out.”

“We’ll survive,” Jade said.

Emily hoped he was right, both for the wedding and for the rest of their lives. She’d only ever known one couple intimately — her mother and her stepfather — and that had been an awful descent into shouting matches and drunken crying fits. Lady Barb wasn’t married...none of the adults she knew, apart from King Randor, were married. She had no idea how Jade and Alassa would live together, but she hoped they would do better than her mother...