Lessons in Etiquette (Schooled in Magic series) (14 page)

Maybe it’s the Prince, hoping for a more intimate meeting
, Emily thought, then dismissed it with a shrug. Hedrick hadn’t shown the imagination necessary to be a royal brat, let alone a royal would-be rapist. And Alassa wouldn’t have led him on like that. Could it be the other Prince? Some instinct told her that it was unlikely, although she wasn’t sure why. Too many of the lessons the sergeants had taught her to trust her instincts without really knowing why she knew something.

But she had to do something. Carefully, she concentrated on the spell that had plunged the room into darkness. It was still there, still drawing on her mana; it needed so little power that she could have maintained it all night without feeling the drain. Closing her eyes, Emily reached out towards the spell and cut off the mana. It faded away rapidly, allowing the candles to shine out and illuminate the room. They weren’t particularly bright, not compared to a magical light, but anyone who was used to the darkness would think that they had suddenly stared into the sun. Emily heard a curse in a feminine voice and opened her own eyes, using one hand to shield herself. One of the maids stood at the far end of Alassa’s bed, holding a stone wand in one hand.

Emily threw a freeze spell, as she had been trained to do in Martial Magic. The maid lifted the wand and deflected it, somehow. Emily blinked in surprise, before realizing that someone had loaded the wand with spells and charged it with mana, allowing her to use magic without actually having the gift. Or maybe she was just a very poor magician. Her expression seemed curiously dull for someone who had been trying to break into a princess’s room.

And then she plucked a knife off her belt and threw it at Emily.

Emily ducked, silently thanking the sergeants for their training. Most magicians relied on their magic, they’d warned, which left them vulnerable when their magic failed them. The knife struck the wall in a shower of bright red sparks, drawing Emily’s attention to the blade. It was stone, with a number of runes cut into the hilt, runes that helped to channel mana and life force. A necromancer? But why would a necromancer use a wand?

Scream, you idiot
, she told herself. The sergeants had also told her that if an attack was about to take place, the person standing watch should make a loud noise. How the hell had she forgotten that? She bellowed “INTRUDER” as loudly as she could, while launching a second spell at the maid. The maid deflected it with her wand, just as Alassa poked her head out of the curtains. Emily took advantage of the sudden distraction to fire off a binding spell and watched the maid crumple to the ground, ropes appearing from nowhere and tying her up. It was a far more complex spell than the freeze jinx, Sergeant Miles had explained, but it was also far harder to deflect. The wand clattered to the floor as the maid let go of it, then she hit the ground herself.

The door burst open, revealing Lady Barb. She was carrying a glowing sword in one hand, while deadly balefire crackled around the other. And she was wearing full uniform…had she even slept? Part of Emily’s mind wondered just what she’d been doing while a maid crept into Alassa’s room–but then, the maid had been good at sneaking around. Who knew what other passageways there might be into the guest quarters?

“Get away from her,” Lady Barb snapped. “Who
is
she?”

“She’s an assassin,” Emily snapped back, ignoring the instruction. The maid was staring up at her with wide frightened eyes, her breathing suddenly ragged and uneven. Emily couldn’t tell if she was panicking or if she’d taken poison. There was no way to know. “And I don’t know
who
she is!”

Lady Barb muttered a spell and the maid’s robe disintegrated, revealing a small belt of knives and a couple of artefacts Emily didn’t recognize. “Cursed,” Lady Barb muttered, as she removed the knives without touching the blades. “And very dangerous.”

“By the gods,” Nightingale’s voice said. “Is Her Highness safe?”

Alassa drew herself up, crossing her arms under her bare breasts, and glared at him. “Her Highness is safe,” she snapped. “And Her Highness wishes you to get out of here. Now.”

Nightingale hesitated, as if he were on the verge of protesting, and then walked out of the room. Outside, Emily could hear frantic demands for information from the other guards, all of whom had been bypassed. Heads would be rolling, Emily realized, and King Randor might make sure that it happened literally. If Alassa had been assassinated, the succession crisis would take place at once.

“Stay on the bed,” Lady Barb ordered Alassa. She looked over at Emily. “Do you recognize the runes on the blades?”

Emily had to fight to keep herself from looking away. “No,” she said, finally. “I’ve never studied runes properly.”

A cursed blade would be lethal, even if the target was only scratched. Given time, an ingenious enchanter could produce one that would be lethal only to a single specific victim. Or the reverse, ensuring that the blade could never be turned against its owner. She’d barely studied enchanting weapons, but from what the sergeants had said she knew that some killed instantly while others inflicted a nasty curse on their target.

“Necromantic runes,” Lady Barb said. “Why were they on her blade?”

Emily stood up, walked back to her bed and looked down on the knife that had been flung at her. It was stone, just like the knife Shadye had pressed into her hand six months ago, but it felt
different
. Shadye’s knife had been drenched in the blood of the innocent–and Sergeant Harkin, who had insisted that Emily kill him, knowing that his
lack
of magic would give Shadye an unpleasant shock. This knife…was just a knife.

“It isn’t a necromantic blade,” she said. Absently, she ran a pair of testing charms over the knife, finding nothing. Of course, the sergeants had also warned her that some cursed items were very good at concealing their true nature. “It doesn’t have the feel of one of their knives.”

She cursed her own mistake a moment later. With so few details of what had actually happened at Whitehall confirmed–and with countless rumors spreading across the Allied Lands–she had just given Lady Barb another reason not to trust her. Picking up a pillow, she used it to pick up the blade and carry it over to where Lady Barb had put the other weapons, then looked at the maid. She was shaking with fear.

“She wasn’t a magician,” Emily added.

“So it would seem,” Lady Barb agreed. She picked up the girl’s wand and examined it. “A very basic weapon, charged with mana–not a tool for more complex spellwork. I wonder who created it.”

Alassa and Emily exchanged glances, then Alassa spoke what they were both thinking. “Hedrick?”

“He doesn’t benefit at all from your death, Your Highness,” Lady Barb pointed out. “At best, he loses his chance to be King of Zangaria. At worst, he gets blamed for your murder and his father hands him over to your father in chains. It’s hard to see who
does
benefit from your death.”

She reached out, grabbed the maid by the shoulders and pulled her to her feet. “Tell me,” she said, staring into the maid’s eyes, “why did you try to kill the princess?”

The maid staggered, then sagged in Lady Barb’s hands. “She’s fainted,” Lady Barb observed, with a hint of disgust. “I’d better go talk to His Majesty. Someone will have to tell him what happened before he gets it from the rumors that will already be fanning around.”

Alassa nodded, although Emily could tell that she was worried. She’d been injured before–Emily had almost killed her on their second meeting, although it had been an accident–but facing assassins in the darkness was different. And the assassin had been one of the servants, the men and women who were beneath her notice. Who else might intend to pick up a knife and bury it in Alassa’s back?

“I want you to ward all the doors,” Lady Barb ordered Emily. “And then do
not
come out until I call you. Whoever else tries to get in, don’t let them. And feel free to use lethal force if they prove too insistent.”

“Understood,” Emily said. She scowled as a thought struck her. “Why didn’t you ward the doors yourself?”

“It is insulting to King Jorlem to suggest that we don’t trust him,” Lady Barb admitted. Her face twisted into a bitter sneer. “I think we’re past that, right now.”

She threw the bound maid over her shoulder, used a spell to pick up the knives and the wand, then headed for the door. “Remember what I said,” she added. “No one gets in until I call you.”

Emily watched her close the door, then started to ward it. Warding a room from the inside was simple, but it could also be dangerous when the magician wasn’t keyed into the overall protective wards. It was quite possible that the Court Wizard would complain loudly–but, as Lady Barb had pointed out, they were beyond caring. And it was also possible that the Court Wizard had a hand in the whole affair. Just because neither Emily nor Lady Barb had been able to think of a motive didn’t mean that someone else
couldn’t
…

And if they
had
managed to blame it on the necromancers…?

“Can you sleep here?” Alassa asked. Her perfect face looked worried, almost scared. She’d known that she was a potential target from birth, but it hadn’t been until meeting Emily that she’d really come to believe it. “The bed is big enough for both of us.”

Emily hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Just let me finish doing the wards first,” she said. “You go to sleep. I’ll join you in a moment.”

“If I can sleep,” Alassa said. “I… why did she want me dead?”

“I wish I knew,” Emily said. She finished the wards and straightened up. Sharing a bed was something she had
never
done, but Alassa needed it. “We’ll find out tomorrow.”

L
ADY BARB HAD LET THEM SLEEP
in, Emily was surprised to realize when she was finally woken by the sound of banging on the door. Rolling out of bed, Emily shaped a spell in her mind as she padded over to the door, cancelled the ward and opened it. Lady Barb stood there, looking rather tired. Emily guessed that she hadn’t slept at all since the assassin had been caught.

“Get washed and dressed–traveling clothes,” Lady Barb ordered. Two maids stood behind her, carrying another massive tub of warm water. “Then we have to speak to His Majesty.”

Emily nodded, then looked at the maids. “Are they…safe?”

“We searched them,” Lady Barb said, “but keep an eye on them anyway.”

The maids stepped into the room and put the tub down on the floor. Lady Barb followed them and assumed a watchful pose, leaning against one wall. Emily scowled as she realized that that they were going to have even less privacy that she’d thought, then turned and walked back to the bed. Alassa was waking up slowly, one hand on her dagger.

“Time to get up,” Emily said. She looked over at Lady Barb. “Is there any chance of a large mug of Kava?”

“Downstairs,” Lady Barb said. “If you are not rested, you can sleep in the carriage.”

Emily didn’t feel very rested–but then, drifting off to sleep after the maid had been captured had been difficult. The wards she’d constructed around the room weren’t very strong, certainly not strong enough to stand up to a combat sorcerer for more than a few minutes. On the other hand, if someone
had
tried to break them down, she would have been alerted before it was too late. Sleeping in the rocking carriage suddenly seemed like a very good idea.

She tried to ignore the maids as she washed, then dressed herself in traveling clothes. Alassa did the same, waving away their attempts to help her. Emily had to smile as Alassa used a very basic spell to keep her hair under control, even though neither of them had been able to get the spell to remain in place permanently. A maid who was close enough to brush Alassa’s hair was also close enough to cut her throat.

Lady Barb inspected them both quickly, then led the way out of the room. Outside, the guards were on the alert, clutching weapons as they eyed their local counterparts suspiciously. Emily wasn’t very reassured; the maid had slipped past them without being noticed, which should have been impossible. But Sergeant Miles had taught her that someone with magic could sneak past anyone without magic, as long as they were careful and didn’t make silly mistakes. And if the necromancers really were involved, the guards would last about as long as a snowflake in hell.

“The castle is on alert,” Lady Barb muttered, as they walked down a corridor. Guards were everywhere, although Emily had a feeling that there were so many guards that someone with bad intentions could probably sneak through in the confusion. “And King Jorlem is very unhappy at what almost happened to you.”

Emily had expected to return to the grand hall, but instead Lady Barb led them into a smaller chamber, barely larger than their room. King Jorlem and his younger son sat at a long table; they stood up as Alassa entered the room. The king looked tired, but grimly determined; Prince Hedrick, Alassa’s prospective husband, didn’t seem to care that Alassa had almost been assassinated. Crown Prince Dater was nowhere to be seen.

“Please, be seated,” King Jorlem said. “I will have food brought in for you.”

“Thank you,” Alassa said, as she took the seat facing King Jorlem. “Right now, we need Kava more than anything else.”