While my parents had quietly struck down the law that required royalty to marry only other royalty or a mage from one of the great families, the expectation of strength still remained. No one of power or influence in Ardann would want to see one of the children of the Spoken Mage marry a commonborn, ensuring their children were born with weak abilities. It was an unpleasant fact of life, but a fact nonetheless.
I shooed Bryony out of my room so I could get dressed and emerged into my sitting room to find her already charming Elsie.
“Your Highness.” Elsie dropped into a deep curtsy. “I’m so sorry, but—”
I held up my hand to stop her. “Please don’t apologize for Bryony. You’ll soon learn that she’s a force of nature and doesn’t believe in lounging in bed. She’s also my closest friend and basically my cousin, so you needn’t try to keep her out.”
Elsie’s look of relief made me chuckle.
“Let’s see your wrists then,” I said, and she held them out proudly.
The intricate pattern that ringed them looked elegant, and she was clearly delighted to show it off. I much preferred Ardann’s approach of marking the wrists of those sealed over Kallorway’s system of putting a similar pattern around their necks. Perhaps I could suggest to Darius that in the future people could be offered a choice between the two options.
“I cannot thank you enough, Your Highness,” Elsie said, and I broke in before she could become any more effusive.
“Given you’re now to be my personal servant, I think I will rapidly get tired of hearing Your Highness. How about if we stick to Princess Verene, or even just Princess?”
She bobbed a shallower curtsy. “Certainly, if that is your wish, Princess.”
“And maybe dispense with the curtsying as well,” Bryony suggested. “It makes me tired just watching you.”
“Ha! Nothing makes you tired as I know all too well.” I looked across at Elsie. “You will soon discover that Bryony likes to spend her time practicing in the training yards or running up and down stairs—and she’ll involve anyone else she can in the exhausting business. But in this instance, I agree. The curtsying isn’t necessary.”
“Very well, Princess Verene. I’ll do my best to remember.”
“Excellent. For now, your duties will consist of keeping my rooms clean and assisting me with such things as ensuring my wardrobe is kept in good condition. I trust I can leave you to sort out the details.”
She nodded enthusiastically.
“If I think of other tasks, I’ll be sure to let you know. But in the meantime, given our imminent departure, you must feel free to take whatever time you need to get your personal affairs in order. We leave within days.”
“Only days,” Bryony moaned. “And I haven’t even visited a single shop yet.”
I eyed her with some alarm. “Why do I have the feeling that oversight is going to be remedied, and I’m going to be dragged to every shop in Corrin in the next few days?”
She grinned at me. “Because you know me too well?”
The sound of a stifled laugh made me look across at Elsie.
“You’ll get used to Bree,” I promised. “Everyone does eventually.”
My fears proved entirely founded. I scarcely had the chance to draw breath between Bryony’s arrival and our departure from Corrin. Sinking into the carriage seat at last, the journey ahead felt almost like a break.
One good aspect of the business was that my parents had little chance to question me on my sudden desire to claim a personal servant. Since I had turned eighteen in the past year, they knew it was my right to do so, but they were a little concerned how the Kallorwegian Academy might feel about the arrangement.
My breezy assurance that all would be well only made them exchange concerned glances which filled me with guilt. My parents knew I was the crown’s chosen representative to Darius, but they didn’t realize just how closely I was involved in his recent seizure of power or know of my connection with the Academy’s head servant.
My older brother, Lucien, who had graduated earlier in the summer, had already hired a personal servant and two more officials. But no one was surprised at that. Now that he was officially qualified as a mage, he would take on the full role of crown prince.
His absence over the summer reminded me of how busy Darius had been at the end of second year after he was named king-elect. How was he going to balance his new responsibilities with two more years of study? But, like Lucien, he couldn’t step into his full role until he had been officially qualified.
Thoughts of the prince made me touch one particular pocket in my white trainee robe. Unlike my other pockets, it held no compositions but rather a single sheet of worn parchment containing a letter.
It was a letter I had read a hundred times, and yet I was no closer to deciphering its true meaning than when I had read it the first time. Although I did at least now have the assurance that it had truly been written by Jareth, thanks to a composition I had cajoled out of Lucien. Darius’s brother was the last person I wanted to be thinking about, and yet his letter had haunted my summer break. I could easily call it up before my mind’s eye without pulling it free from its pocket.
Verene—
I hope this note finds its way to you. Something terrible is wrong, although I cannot understand what it is. I need your help, but not for my own sake. I need your help to save Darius. It’s the only reason I dare ask since I know I deserve no such assistance for myself. But for Darius and Kallorway, I implore you. Please help me. Please return next year and find out what is happening here.
Jareth
After two years, I had finally proven to Darius the depths of his brother’s treachery, and yet instead of victory, I had been left with nothing but grief and fresh questions. Every time I thought of Jareth, I inevitably thought of Darius, and the way he had responded to his brother’s perfidy. Cut deeply by the one family member he thought he could trust, he had attempted to drive me away too, isolating himself completely. Sometimes it felt as if Jareth had been the true victor.
My aunt had been greatly interested to learn of Jareth’s treachery, and even more to find that even as the summer wore on, no hint of it reached her ears from any source but me. It seemed incredible that not a whisper of the truth had reached the ears of any of her intelligencers.
As much as I had enjoyed the time with my family, I had been anxious for some weeks to return to the Academy so I could ask Darius what was going on. I would have liked to forget all about Jareth, but his letter burned a constant hole in my pocket. And I had come to the reluctant conclusion that I would have to find a way to speak to him.
Assuming he was still alive.
Despite his attempts to kill me, the thought that he might not be alive made me queasy. I still wasn’t sure if Darius was going to survive his brother’s betrayal—I was almost certain he wouldn’t survive executing him. Or at least, his inner self wouldn’t.
All summer I had held on to the brief glimpse of Darius’s true self that he had shown between his seizure of power and Jareth’s attack. He had been commanding yet personable, smiling at the other trainees and full of hope. That was the king he was meant to be, and I was resolved it was the king he would still have the chance to become.