Lessons in Etiquette (Schooled in Magic series) (13 page)

“My father said that I could lie with her until she had a couple of boy-children, then give her a tower somewhere if she didn’t please me,” Dater said. “But I hope it is someone I will be able to talk to. It’s hard to talk to anyone when you’re the Crown Prince. Even Hedrick doesn’t really understand.”

Emily nodded. “People keep telling you what they think you want to hear,” she said, remembering Alassa’s cronies. “Or they tell you what they want you to hear.”

“That is indeed the problem,” Dater said. “Do you know that, as Crown Prince, I am called upon to investigate murders in the city? The last time, I was inundated with suspects even before I looked at the corpse.”

“
You
investigate murders?” Emily asked, in disbelief. Somehow, she couldn’t quite imagine the sober crown prince walking around in a deerstalker and carrying a magnifying glass. “Why you?”

“The only person senior to me is my father,” Dater reminded her. “No one can refuse to talk to me.”

It made a certain kind of sense, Emily decided, reluctantly. A nobleman would hardly agree to talk to a common-born investigator, or even a fellow nobleman. But the Crown Prince, the acknowledged heir, could ask questions without forcing the nobleman to lose face in front of anyone else. And besides, it was probably good publicity for the royal family, particularly if nobles were involved in the crime.

Or maybe not. “What happens if the murderer comes from a noble family?”

Dater had the grace to look embarrassed. “That depends on who he murdered,” he admitted. “If it was a common-born”–he made a show of glancing around to see who might be listening–“lady of negotiable affection…”

A trumpet blared before he could finish. King Jorlem stood up, waited for silence and then spoke out loud. “My son, Prince Hedrick, Duke of Harmonious Repose, Lord of the Middle Realm, will be accompanying the Princess Alassa on her journey back to Zangaria, where he will make his suit in front of her family,” he said. “Should he succeed in winning her hand, we will enjoy a close alliance with a northern land, an alliance that is in both of our interests. I call on you all to praise the gods and ask them to shine their light upon the couple.”

There was a brief outbreak of cheering. Alassa’s face was unreadable, but Emily could see the tension in the way she held herself. King Jorlem had talked as though it was already a done deal, as if all that had to be done was the mere formality of asking her parents to bless the match. Had Alassa given him that impression, or was he merely trying to push her into accepting Prince Hedrick as a partner?

Maybe I should send a message back to Whitehall and ask for the prince’s records
, Emily thought. The grandmaster might think carefully on the political implications before sending them, but Lady Aylia wouldn’t hesitate, if Emily phased the request carefully. She believed that information wanted to be free.
See just what he got in his exams before he graduated.

He was at least five years older than Alassa–more likely six, Emily realized–but that wouldn’t seem to be a problem to their eyes. Age wasn’t such an issue when dealing with princes; it only seemed to matter seriously when princesses were concerned. It made sense–a princess who had passed the menopause simply couldn’t have any more children–but it still made Emily shudder in disgust. Did they view every princess as a brood cow? Or, for that matter, princes as stud bulls?

But he looked…
bored
.

Was he homosexual? Emily wondered. Admittedly, Alassa wasn’t wearing one of the dresses that exposed most of her breasts to public view, but she would have expected a young man to show more interest in the beautiful princess. Or maybe he was simply very good at concealing his true feelings, just like his brother. And if he
was
homosexual…? James of Scotland–later James I of the United Kingdom–had been homosexual and it hadn’t stopped him from siring three children. That said, his kingdom might have regretted his second son taking the throne as Charles I.

“As the princess must continue her journey to her kingdom tomorrow, we shall celebrate her arrival tonight,” the king continued. “Let the revels begin!”

The noblemen stood up as a flock of servants arrived and started pulling the tables aside, while a set of minstrels started to play in the far corner. Prince Hedrick stood up, after his father had shot him a sharp glance, and held out a hand to Alassa. Emily had to smile inwardly as Alassa stood up, took the prince’s hand and allowed him to lead her down to the dance floor. Unlike in Whitehall, she realized, there was an order to the dances that allowed the various unmarried noblemen to switch between potential wives. Hedrick, on the other hand, seemed to be stuck with Alassa.

A surprising number of noblewomen seemed to surround the king as soon as he stepped down from the high table. Dater leaned over and explained that ever since their mother had died, the king had been taking solace by dancing with as many noblewomen as possible. If it had gone further than dancing…no one seemed to know. Or care; a brief period as the King’s mistress could set a woman up for life, or even bring honor to her family. Emily rolled her eyes and sat back, watching the dancing.

The first dance finished, allowing a balladeer to start singing a ballad. Emily winced inwardly, wondering if she could get away with making herself invisible or simply running out the door, as she recognized the song as one of the ballads about
her
. At least it wasn’t one of the truly
crude
ones. She’d promised herself that if she ever got her hands on the person who had written a raunchy song implying that she’d used forbidden sex magic to beat Shadye, she’d do a great deal worse than turning him into a slug.

“He doesn’t sing very well,” Emily muttered, when the ballad had finally finished. “Why do you keep him?”

“Father likes his old war songs,” Dater admitted. He held out a hand and stood up. “Would you care to join me on the dance floor?”

The honest answer to that was
no
, but there was a desperation in his eyes that made Emily relent. Of course; if he danced with someone, courtly whispers would have them engaged by the end of the day. And if he happened to compromise himself in any way, it might prove disastrous to the monarchy. At least he had real power to console himself for having to adhere to protocol as closely as possible.

But he could dance with Emily without upsetting anyone.

She was very tired by the time the ball finally came to an end.

W
HAT A…BORING LITTLE TIT,” ALASSA SAID,
as soon as the maids had been chased out and the door firmly closed. “I cannot understand why his father was so sure Hedrick would make a good match for me.”

“He knows magic,” Emily pointed out. “And he’s the only
spare
they have.”

“I’d have to put up with him for
years
,” Alassa protested. “He didn’t even stare at my chest!”

Emily blinked as she started to undress. “You
want
him staring at your chest?”

“It would have been a kind of interest,” Alassa said, sourly. “Instead, I didn’t have the impression he cared about me or marriage at all. No liking for me, no liking for the power of being my consort…not even any thoughts of how his marriage could help his kingdom.”

She rolled her eyes. “I hope that the next one is better,” she added. “Because I am
not
marrying Hedrick!”

“Tell your parents,” Emily advised dryly. “Come to think of it, how can we send a message back to Whitehall?”

Alassa frowned as she started to undo her dress. The maids had been distressed when Alassa had ordered them to leave without undressing her, but Alassa had been insistent. Besides, getting out of the dress was a great deal easier than putting it on. And she wasn’t expected to wear it again for months, if at all. The sheer scale of waste was appalling, Emily had decided. Even by the standards of a royal family, the dresses weren’t
cheap
.

“If you don’t mind it being read, you can use the communications sorcerer,” Alassa said, finally. “Lady Barb will have used him to inform my parents that we arrived here safely. But if you do want to keep the contents to yourself, you’ll have to send it via courier in a sealed envelope. The Allied Lands work hard to keep their couriers safe from interference.”

Emily nodded, sourly. “Do I have to go down to the city to hire one?”

Alassa snorted. “You’re in a royal castle,” she said, dryly. “Just call one tomorrow, once you’ve written the message. One will come.”

She finished undressing and walked over to the mirror. Her skin showed no trace of the stresses of the journey, or the dancing they’d done for hours after dinner. Emily almost envied her, even though she could hear the tiredness in her friend’s voice.
Her
body showed too many signs of stress, even after months of heavy exercise in Martial Magic. At least she didn’t ache so badly these days.

“We have to be away early tomorrow,” Alassa said. “We can’t show
too
much interest in one place, or other suitors will start wondering if we’ve made arrangements with King Jorlem.”

Emily finished pulling off her dress and underclothes, then walked over to the trunk and retrieved her nightgown. Alassa might feel comfortable sleeping without anything covering her, but Emily had never been able to sleep naked. On Earth, she had sometimes worried about her stepfather coming into the room, particularly when he’d been drunk. And in Whitehall, she’d never had a room of her own. She had always shared with two other girls.

“Good night,” she said, shaking her head at Alassa’s massive bed. It looked easily large enough to hold seven people without them having to be very friendly. “How do we turn off the candles?”

“You don’t,” Alassa said. “I can draw the curtains around the bed, but…”

She scowled. “I shall have words with Nightingale,” she added. “You
have
to sleep in the light.”

Emily shaped a spell in her mind and then cast it towards the candles.
Darkness
was a simple spell with a number of military applications. It created a zone of absolute darkness that was nearly impossible to see through without powerful magic, or spells attuned to the original spell. The user could easily sneak up on someone before they managed to dispel the darkness, or use it as cover for an escape.

She swore out loud as she realized her mistake. With the candles shrouded, the entire room had plunged into darkness. Alassa tittered as Emily generated a simple light globe and found her way to her bed, climbing in and pulling the sheets up to cover her body. The bed might have looked crude, but it was comfortable. Although, she had to admit, after sleeping on the hard ground more than once,
anything
would have felt comfortable.

“Good night,” Alassa said. “Lady Barb will wake us in the morning.”

Emily closed her eyes and…

She snapped awake, her eyes springing open and peering into the darkness. Something was wrong. She couldn’t say what had woken her, except perhaps the training and experience the sergeants had hammered into her head. One of their many tests had been to have someone sneak up on the pupils while they were sleeping, ready to perform a nasty trick that would teach them not to fall asleep in hostile territory–or at least to set wards and other traps to ensure that sneaking up on them wasn’t easy. Emily still remembered the humiliation of waking up to discover that she–and the other Redshirts–had been tied up and rendered completely helpless. Someone with bad intentions could have easily slit their throats while they were sleeping.

For a long moment, she heard nothing, apart from a faint snoring from Alassa. They had never shared a room together before, but Aloha snored and Emily had eventually grown used to sleeping through it. And then she’d learned how to cast silencing charms that had made the whole matter irrelevant, leaving her to wonder why she hadn’t thought of it earlier. Emily listened, carefully, unsure of what had awoken her. And then she heard the very light tread of someone trying hard not to make a sound.

The sergeants had taught her how to
listen
to her surroundings. She’d been blindfolded while the other trainees tried to sneak up on her. One of them–Jade, she recalled–had the bright idea of tossing a shoe over her head to create a distraction, for which he had received a pat on the back from Sergeant Miles. Now, though, she held herself still as she listened, trying to pick out the sounds of individual people.
Someone
was in the room.

One person, she decided, after a long moment. There only seemed to be one person in the room, apart from herself and Alassa. And it probably wasn’t Alassa or one of her escorts; surely, not even Nightingale would come into the princess’s room while she was sleeping. Besides, he would probably have announced himself, rather than sneaking in…unless he wanted to peek at a sleeping beauty. Emily pushed the thought aside savagely as she strained her ears for other clues. Nightingale would have to be insane to try to sneak up on a sorceress-in-training.

Emily braced herself, recalling what she could of the room’s layout. The trunks were at the far end of Alassa’s bed; they hadn’t had time to push them to one side. Her own bed was in one corner…maybe she could roll out of bed without being heard. But then, if someone
was
trying to sneak in, they’d be listening carefully for signs of trouble. Emily peered into the darkness, wondering if she dared use one of the spells Sergeant Miles had taught her. She could see in the darkness like a cat, if she used the spell, but it would also reveal that she was awake. If, of course, the intruder was sensitive to magic…