But no Ardannian royal had ever completed their entire education in Kallorway. As far as I knew, no Ardannian mage had. While we had no reason to mistrust the competency of the Kallorwegian mages, Ardann still wanted its most important members schooled within its own borders.
Which is why it made sense for me to be the first. My education mattered little. I was to attend the Academy because it was mandatory that every mageborn start at the Academy the autumn after their sixteenth birthday. Occasional exceptions were made regarding the start date, such as in the case of my father who had started a year late due to his participation in a delegation to the Sekali Empire, but no one could avoid attendance altogether. And my parents had always insisted I be treated like any other mageborn.
I had dreaded starting, knowing that my inability to compose would only be more stark at the Ardannian Academy than it was at court. And at the Academy formality was put aside in an effort to encourage year mates to make bonds regardless of their respective families’ positions. My own parents had met during their years there and remained close to many of their year mates. Those bonds were one of the reasons my mother kept assuring me the Academy was about more than learning to compose.
But the formality of my rank was the only protection I had ever had in a court that valued strength and power above all else. My parents claimed those values had improved since their own youth—that the court recognized different types of strength now in a way it had never done before. But the only strength I had was my royal blood, and at the Academy that would matter less than ever before.
Perhaps it was my own earlier arguments on the matter that had helped sway my parents when Aunt Lucienne suggested I attend the Kallorwegian Academy instead. But replacing one unwelcome school for another had not been my intention. I recognized her genius, however, and didn’t put up a fight. Here at last was a way for me to help the crown—a task I was uniquely suited for, if only by my lack of ability. I was determined not to waste the opportunity I had been offered.
More fields greeted us on the far side of the bridge. It was unsettling how similar the landscape looked to the road from Corrin. I had built up Kallorway in my mind as an unfamiliar place, but the land itself knew no such distinctions.
Unlike in Ardann, where the Royal Academy had been built inside Corrin, right beside the palace, in Kallorway it occupied a remote location, closer to the border with Ardann than its own capital. It was a relief that I would not be facing King Cassius and the cutthroat Kallorwegian court. At least, not yet.
All too soon, we were passing through a village, and I glimpsed the forbidding walls of the Academy rising in the distance. There was no elegant white marble here, but instead gray stone, both for the wall itself and the building that rose behind it. It was an unwelcoming prospect.
My honor guard still rode in front and behind my carriage, accompanied by Layna and one of the other mage officers at the front, and the remaining two mages at the back. On the empty road we had made an impressive cavalcade, but riding through the looming gates of the Kallorwegian Academy, we looked small and outnumbered.
I straightened, telling myself not to be so fanciful. Stuck inside the carriage, I could hardly judge what sort of impression we made. I touched the circlet on my head for reassurance. I carried the weight and authority of a crown and a kingdom with me. I didn’t need platoons of guards as well.
My confidence faltered when it came time to descend from the carriage, but my training helped me keep my trepidation from my face. The courtyard in front of the vast building was paved in a lighter gray stone but lacked the decorative touches of the entry to the Ardannian Academy.
The Academy building itself stood freely in the middle of the walls, facing south toward the capital. But a number of substantial outbuildings pressed against the other walls, their form suggesting they were barracks or housing of some kind. It fit with the briefing I had been given. The Kallorwegians did not ascribe to the informality of the Ardannian Academy, and no doubt they did not wish their servants to live in the same dwelling as their own important selves.
I suppressed a sigh. Here my royal blood would count for more than it would have at the Academy at home, but the thought of all the formality brought me no joy.
I ascended the grand stairway to the wooden doors which swung open at my approach. Inside, I found an enormous entranceway that at first glance appeared filled with people.
Only my years of royal training stopped me from faltering at the intimidating sight. Instead I raised my chin slightly, my eyes falling on a tall young man who stood at the front of the crowd.
He met my gaze without hesitation, a glint reflecting in his eyes in response to my slight movement. But a moment later I was sure I had imagined it. His face remained cold and impassive, his eyes too dark to shine in such a way, although they made an impressive contrast with his light, sandy hair.
The young man stepped forward, inclining his head in my direction. “Welcome to Kallorway, Princess Verene.”
I realized at once who he was and was even more certain I had imagined the appreciative glint. He looked not much older than me and wore a white robe like my own, so if he was taking the lead in welcoming me, it could only be because he was Crown Prince Darius of Kallorway himself. And everyone knew the Kallorwegian crown prince kept his emotions well in check and far from view.
I gave him a half-curtsy in response as befitted a junior princess to a crown prince.
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
An older man stepped forward to join him, giving a proper bow. “And welcome to the Kallorwegian Royal Academy. We hope your time here will be fruitful and your learning deep.”
I gave him a regal nod. This man I recognized. Duke Francis—Head of the Academy. He had personally traveled to Ardann over the summer to reassure my parents as to the arrangements in place for my stay. His gray hair was just as I remembered, and his face as carefully neutral as ever, despite now being in the comfort of his own domain.
Now that I had a moment to take everything in, I realized the crowd of people was carefully organized. No other white robes were in evidence, but silver-robed figures formed several lines to the duke’s right. To his left, an even larger number of servants, dressed in dark green uniforms, formed neat, still rows. I gave a shallow nod in their direction before focusing my attention on the silver-robed instructors.
Their presence had given me a jolt at first, the color of their robes signifying officers of the Armed Forces at home. But here in Kallorway, the instructors and academics wore silver instead of the black they wore in Ardann. I hoped I would adjust to the change soon and not continually imagine myself surrounded by hostile soldiers.
Other than the duke himself, the Academy had six senior positions, presumably the six mages standing in the front row, their junior instructors behind them. One of them drew my attention, standing out from every other mage present due to his gold robe. Duke Francis had assured my family that his trainees were protected by a sizable guard, and this must be their captain. Officially, the Academy Guard were an offshoot of the Kallorwegian Royal Guard, and their captain would therefore dress in gold.
The man gave me a measuring look before his eyes moved on to Layna. When she met his gaze, her own expression cool, he gave her a solid nod as if to reassure her he was ready to take on responsibility for her charge. Now that it had come to it, I didn’t find his confidence reassuring. I wished my own captain could stay.