But King Cassius had insisted that if I was to attend his Academy, I must do so alone as every other trainee did both in his kingdom and in Ardann. Not even royalty brought their own guards to the Academy. Such a thing would be an insult of the highest order to the Head of the Academy—a position just as senior as the Head of the Royal Guard. The Academies of both kingdoms had protected and trained their future kings and queens for generations beyond count, and if Cassius’s own sons were not permitted to bring guards, I could not do so either. I suppressed a shiver and wished my father had prevailed when he had argued with my aunt that the cases were not the same.
I understood why she had not given ground to the natural worries of a parent, however. How could we hope to forge the much-needed new bonds of trust and connection if we began with an unforgivable statement of mistrust?
It made sense, but that didn’t mean I liked it. I gazed around the large space, carefully keeping my face impassive while my insides roiled. The next morning I would bid farewell to my guard, and I would be left behind, alone in the heart of our rival’s stronghold, a trainee like any other. Welcome to the Kallorwegian Academy, indeed.
Chapter 4
Duke Francis hosted a formal evening meal in a small dining room that was part of a suite of chambers belonging to the Academy Head. Layna was invited to accompany me, although she was seated at the other end of the table, beside the Captain of the Academy Guard, who I learned was named Vincent.
I kept a subtle eye on them throughout the meal, noting the way Layna seemed to relax as time went on, even giving the occasional smile by the time sweets were served. My captain had always proved an excellent judge of character, and if she was favorably inclined toward this Vincent, then it was a count in his favor as far as I was concerned. The thought gave me more relief than I had expected.
I had assumed all six senior Academy staff would join us, but only two more were in attendance. They were the only ones who looked old enough to have been at the Academy for the current duke’s tenure—a span of several decades—and were introduced as a couple. The man, Hugh, greeted me with true welcome in his voice, a far cry from the cold formality I had thus far received, and I couldn’t help smiling at him. He was named as the head of the library and his wife, Raelynn, as the Academy healer.
Her position surprised me. In Ardann, the Academy healer was a junior position within the healing discipline, not a senior Academy position. Yet another subtle reminder that I was no longer at home.
Raelynn spoke quietly, but with as much warmth as her husband, the two of them carrying the conversation at our end of the table. I replied to them both with as much enthusiasm as my rank allowed, attempting to signal my gratitude for their manner. As the time drew nearer for my own people to leave, I grew more and more desperate to find some spark of friendliness in this unfamiliar place. It had been one thing to anticipate my solitary state from the comfort of home, but the reality was hitting me harder than I had expected.
As I stole surreptitious glances at Prince Darius across the table, my mood didn’t lift. He, more than anything, was the reason I was here. The news he was finally to start at the Academy—two years late—had weighed heavily with my aunt.
One day he would be king in Kallmon, and that day might be arriving sooner than the usual course would suggest. Rumors had long reached us that King Cassius intended to abdicate in his unsealed son’s favor as soon as Darius was at full maturity and power. And yet our intelligencers could tell us little about the crown prince’s opinions or intentions. The unexpected opportunity to have one of our own spend four years as his year mate had been greatly alluring to my aunt.
But there was nothing in his face or voice to suggest he was likely to be any more friendly or open with his year mates than he was with his court. He ate with focus, replying when spoken to with precise, short answers. He volunteered nothing and never smiled at anyone.
Given the stories of his ruthless and cold father, and of his own inscrutability, Darius was hardly a surprise. But my heart sank just the same. Passionate hatred would have given me something more to work with than this stony facade. I had clearly imagined that initial glint, desperate to see the beginnings of a connection between us.
I took another bite and complimented the duke on the food, wondering if it was possible to sound more inane.
“I will pass on your compliments to the chef,” Duke Francis replied. “Of course, once the year starts officially on the morrow, both you and Prince Darius will eat with the other trainees in the dining hall. But you may expect to find the food of a suitable quality even there.”
“I look forward to meeting my fellow first years,” I said.
A slight movement on the other side of the table drew my eyes. As soon as he felt my gaze, the prince stilled again, whatever emotion had caused him to stir already hidden. I looked back down at my plate but couldn’t resist giving him subtle glances through my lashes. Was it my presence in his Academy as a first year that managed to elicit a response, or was it his own long-delayed enrollment that weighed on him?
I might be focused on the small differences, but most elements of the disciplines and Academies were the same between our two kingdoms. It made sense when our abilities were the same. And power stabilized in Kallorwegian mages at sixteen, just as it did in their Ardannian counterparts. They started at their Academy at the same age we did.
But the Kallorwegian crown prince was not sixteen. He had celebrated his eighteenth birthday over the summer. By rights I should be year mates not with Prince Darius but with his younger brother, Prince Jareth.
As if my thoughts had composed him into being, the door to the private dining room opened, and a young man stepped into the room. Everything from his features to his sandy hair proclaimed his relationship to the prince across from me, although the newcomer’s lighter brown eyes gave his whole face a warmer look.
Inclining his head in a deep nod toward the head of the table where Duke Francis sat, the newcomer smiled.
“Please excuse my tardy arrival and accept my sincere apologies.” His eyes fastened on me, and he gave a proper bow. “And especially to you, Princess Verene. I had hoped to be here to greet you on your arrival.”
Darius gave him a look that was half disapproving, half long-suffering. “We expected you here hours ago, Jareth.” He turned to me. “Your Highness, please allow me to introduce my younger brother, Prince Jareth.”
I considered standing so I could curtsy properly, but that would only send everyone else at the table scrambling to their feet. Instead, I settled for inclining my upper body in his direction.
“You may consider your apologies accepted, Prince Jareth,” I said. “I was just saying to the duke how much I look forward to meeting my year mates, and here you are.”
The younger prince smiled and slipped into an empty seat beside his brother. A servant appeared and put a place setting down for him, a hot plate of food arriving a moment later. I eyed it curiously. Was the kitchen equipped with compositions to ensure guests at the duke’s table were always supplied with hot food, regardless of how late they arrived?
“I have been no less consumed with curiosity to meet you, I must confess, Princess Verene,” he said. “It has been many long years indeed since Kallorway hosted a foreign royal at our Academy.”