Love's Labor's Won (6 page)

“Nothing,” Frieda assured her. “There’s nothing left, but the sheets and blankets that came with the room.”

“Good,” Emily said. “Let’s go.”

Downstairs, Lady Barb was reproving Alassa, speaking in a soft tone that Emily knew, from experience, was worse than being yelled at.

“You cannot afford to be late,
Your Highness
,” Lady Barb said. “There will be people who will see it as a sign of sloppiness, then weakness. Those people tend to have assassins on their payrolls. And, while I know you are skilled at defending yourself, those assassins will have more practical experience.”

Alassa said nothing. Lady Barb gave her a long considering look, then looked past her towards Emily.

“Emily,” she said. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Emily said.

“I will have the coach brought up to the door,” Lady Barb said, turning. “Be ready to load the trunks into the coach as soon as it arrives.”

She walked out of the door. Emily looked at Alassa and frowned. Her friend looked angry, yet also — somehow — depressed. Very few people in her life had ever spoken so bluntly to her, Emily knew, and Alassa was realistic enough to know that Lady Barb was right. A display of weakness, or irresolution, would be used against her, even if it hadn’t been her fault. And then...

Emily shuddered. Only a madman would risk starting a civil war, she was sure, but the Iron Duchess and some of the Barons of Zangaria had tried just that, two years ago. The aristocracy had been cowed, for the moment, but it wouldn’t last. Alassa had even told her, only a few weeks ago, that they’d started scheming to undermine King Randor and his daughter once again. It seemed a handful of executions — including one Alassa had carried out personally — hadn’t been enough to
keep
them cowed.

She rested a hand on Alassa’s shoulder, just for a second. “You’ll be fine,” she said. “Just keep watching your back.”

“My neck won’t turn that far,” Alassa said. She smiled, but there was no humor in her eyes. “I need a pair of eyes in the back of my head.”

“There are spells that would give you eyes in the back of your head,” Imaiqah said, in an effort to be helpful. “But you also need a good man.”

Alassa merely nodded.

Emily gave her an odd look. Alassa had been accepting, at first, of the fact that her marriage would be arranged by her father. Later, after her Confirmation, she had insisted on having a greater say in any arrangements, when they were finally made. But now...there was something odd about her reactions, something
off
. Maybe she was just envious of Imaiqah, Emily wondered. It must be galling to watch her friend enjoy spending time with the boys, when Alassa could not compromise herself in such a manner.

It’s stupid
, Emily thought, as they picked up their trunks and headed to the door.
There are no shortage of potions to prevent conception. Alassa might not even need them because of the bloodline. She could have all the fun she wanted and no one would need to know.

But she knew it wasn’t that easy, not for a princess or a queen. The double standard was alive and well in Zangaria. If Alassa compromised herself, it would damage her ability to rule...when any male monarch could indulge himself as he saw fit. Indeed, if half the stories about Zangaria’s male nobility were true, Emily had no idea how they managed to find the time to actually rule. Or do anything, beyond chasing pleasure.

Outside, a cold wind blew down out of the mountains, causing them to shiver as it rustled their robes. Emily cast a warming charm, then watched as the coach drove up to them and stopped right in front of the doors. Lady Barb jumped down and opened the storage space under the coach, allowing them to shove their trunks inside. Emily glanced back into Whitehall, feeling oddly as if she was leaving her home, then followed Alassa as she scrambled into the coach. It was easily roomy enough for all five of them, even with the light ball floating in the air, casting an eerie pale light over the scene. But the windows were covered by drawn curtains, preventing anyone from seeing in or out.

“You’re late,” she heard Lady Barb say. “I doubt your master would be pleased.”

“He would be furious,” Jade said. The coach shook as he placed his trunk underneath, then scrambled up to join them. “But he wouldn’t have wanted me to go anyway.”

Emily smiled as Jade sat down next to Alassa. “I hope you brought a book,” she said. “There’s not much else to do on the trip.”

“It’s only a short trip,” Jade said. “I just need to meditate and prepare for the portal.”

“True,” Alassa agreed. “Emily, can you cope with it?”

“I don’t think I have a choice,” Emily said, as the coach lurched into life. Stepping through portals made her feel sick, unless she prepared herself beforehand. It was a sign of strong magic, Alassa had told her years ago, but it was one she could have done without. “Let me know when we’re about to pass through the portal.”

She gritted her teeth, then hastily erected mental defenses. Beside her, Frieda did the same, although she actually had more experience with portals than Emily. Mountaintop had used portals to keep its precise location a secret and Frieda had stepped through more than one. But then, Emily was morbidly certain that secrecy no longer mattered. Once the wards had fallen, the school’s enemies would have no trouble locating it.

“We’re about to pass through the portal,” Lady Barb called, from where she was sitting with the driver. “Brace yourselves...”

Emily closed her eyes and focused her mind, then shuddered as magic crackled around her defenses. The entire coach seemed to heave, as if it was a ship caught in a particularly bad storm, then settled sharply. Emily swallowed hard, swearing to herself she would not be sick in front of her friends and forced herself to relax. It was a struggle to convince her eyes to open, somehow. They seemed to want to remain closed.

“Emily,” Alassa said. Her voice sounded as though she were speaking from a very great distance. “Are you all right?”

“I think so,” Emily gasped. None of the others, even Jade, the oldest, seemed to be affected quite so badly. Her head spun rapidly, then calmed. “What about you?”

“I’ve never felt it so badly,” Alassa said. Her voice was curiously flat. “I should have asked Lady Barb to teleport you here, Emily. I’m sorry.”

Emily ran her hand through her hair, which suddenly felt uncomfortably sweaty. “It wasn’t your fault,” she said. “I could have asked her myself.”

Alassa eyed her for a long moment, then turned her attention to peering through cracks in the curtains. “We’re in Alexis,” she said. “The last time I was here, the streets were lined with people cheering.”

“You’re here incognito now,” Jade pointed out, dryly. “And no one knows who’s in the carriage.”

Emily would have been surprised if that was actually true. No matter how incognito Alassa wanted to be, there were armed guards outside and the coach was heading right for the castle at the heart of the city. But, like so much else, if Alassa wanted to pretend to be someone faceless, the citizens would gladly go along with her. It was one of the many little understandings that allowed rigid protocol to be tempered with compassion and understanding.

Like we are allowed to change before greeting the king, even though we are not meant to enter the castle without greeting the king,
she thought. Like so much else, it exasperated her, but it had to be endured.
Alassa needs our support.

The coach came to a halt. Outside, she could hear men shouting backwards and forwards, then the coach lurched and drove forward again. It stopped a moment later. Emily heard Lady Barb jumping down from the driver’s seat and scrabbling with the handle. The door opened a moment later, allowing cold air to waft into the coach. Emily peered out and saw, once again, the cold grey stone of Castle Alexis, home of the royal family. A handful of guards peered back at her curiously, then hastily lowered their gazes as they remembered she was a baroness. The only person in the coach who didn’t have a noble title was Frieda; Jade, being a combat sorcerer, was effectively considered minor aristocracy.

Because if someone didn’t treat him well,
she thought,
he could turn them into a toad — or worse
.

She jumped out of the coach and helped Frieda scramble down to the ground. The younger girl looked around in awe, her face glowing with astonishment. Behind her, Alassa looked amused, while Jade looked understanding. Frieda would never have seen anything like the castle before, apart — perhaps — from Whitehall itself.

“You can freshen up before being presented to the king,” Lady Barb said, as a maid hurried over to them and curtseyed quickly. The maid muttered hastily in her ear. “There are dresses and other clothes waiting for you upstairs.”

Emily sighed, but knew — once again — that there was no real choice. Besides, she wanted a quick wash after passing through the portal. Her skin felt sweaty and unclean.

Gritting her teeth in anticipation of the coming ordeal, she followed the maid through a tiny doorway set in the grey stone and into the guesthouse.

Chapter Five

F
RIEDA CLUNG TO EMILY AS THEY
entered the washroom, where a small army of maids was waiting for them. Emily hastily fended them off as they started trying to remove her clothes, their faces expressing a disapproval they would never express out loud, and glared daggers at a pair of young girls carrying sponges and towels. Baroness or not, she could still wash herself — and besides, she had never been comfortable allowing someone else to undress her and wash her, as if she were nothing more than a doll. She took a sponge and towel, then found a private corner next to where the dresses were waiting.

“Why...” Frieda coughed and started again. “Why do we have to come here?”

“Tradition,” Alassa said. Two of the maids were already undressing her, while a third was wiping her face with a warm cloth. “We cannot enter the castle until my father has greeted us, but we cannot be presented to the king while wearing undignified clothes. So we come here, to the guesthouse, and wash and dress in proper clothes, all the while claiming that we have not actually entered the castle. By such sleights of hand the formalities are maintained.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “You’ll find that everyone is obsessed with formalities,” she added, dryly. “If you wear the wrong dress at the wrong time you will never hear the end of it.”

“I only have two dresses,” Frieda said, slowly. She looked down at the floor, nervously. “What else can I wear?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Alassa said. “My mother will find something for you to wear, never you fear.”

Of course she will
, Emily thought. She’d offered to buy Frieda a pair of additional dresses, but the girl had turned her down.
It won’t make Frieda’s life any easier
.

She sighed, inwardly. Frieda had grown up in the Cairngorms, where she had worn homemade clothes, certainly nothing particularly fine. Mountaintop had given her a pair of school uniforms, but nothing more elaborate. Now, the poor girl was faced with the prospect of either having to buy dresses herself or accepting charity from the queen. And the dresses were so expensive, by her standards, that she didn’t have a hope of buying one. Alassa, on the other hand, saw nothing wrong with buying a dress for a single occasion, then putting it away for the rest of her life.

“There was a big tiff last year, while you were gone,” Alassa said, looking up at Emily. The maids were washing her feet, paying careful attention to the dirt between her toes. “Two noblewomen, having bought their dresses from the same exclusive designer, discovered to their horror that they were wearing the
same
dress. They wound up fighting in the middle of the Great Hall.”

The more things change, the more they stay the same
, Emily thought.

She took the dress that was meant for her, and pulled it over her head. Two seamstresses closed in and made a handful of minor alterations, pointing her towards a mirror. Emily scowled at her reflection, then looked down at her chest. The gown covered everything, but it was tighter around her breasts than she would have preferred. She hesitated, unwilling to make a fuss in front of everyone, then cast a charm over the dress. It would be hard for anyone to see her chest clearly.

Frieda caught her arm. “Another blue dress?”

“It seems to be my color,” Emily said. Imaiqah had started it, followed by Alassa and Queen Marlena. They’d all sworn blind that blue was the best color for Emily. “And yourself?”

“Blue too,” Frieda said. “Do you think she wanted us to match?”

Emily shrugged, watching the maids finish dressing Alassa. She had a long white outfit that reminded Emily of a wedding dress, complete with flowers in her golden hair and a pair of golden slippers. As soon as she was ready, Alassa stepped forward and motioned for them to follow her down the stairs, towards the throne room. Jade was waiting at the bottom, having changed into a dark set of clothes that marked him as a combat sorcerer. Emily had to admit they looked good on him, showing off his muscles as well as his magical prowess.

Jade struck a dramatic pose, whirling his cloak around him. “How do I look?”

“Powerful,” Alassa said. “But you really need something gold to catch the eye.”

“My hair,” Jade said, deadpan.

Emily looked from one to the other, surprised, then followed Alassa up to the grand wooden doors leading into the throne room. A pair of armed guards eyed them curiously, but looked away as a herald, wearing a uniform that made him look alarmingly like a walking trifle, stepped forward and bowed so deeply Emily thought he would brush his nose against the stone floor.

“Your highness,” he said, as if Alassa were alone. “I welcome you to your father’s grace.”

“You may announce us,” Alassa said, grandly.

The herald threw open the doors and stepped forward. “My Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen,” he said, in a voice that carried right across the throne room. “I present to you Crown Princess and Duchess of Iron Alassa, Baroness Emily of Cockatrice, Lady Viscount of Steam Imaiqah, the Sorcerer Jade and Frieda Wandbreaker, Daughter of Huckeba.”