Lessons in Etiquette (Schooled in Magic series) (17 page)

Smuggling
, Emily silently translated. And if it was a republic, was it
democratic
?

“The city fathers are the heads of the most powerful families in the city,” Lady Barb said, when Emily asked how the city was governed. “The rest of the population doesn’t have any say in decisions, unless the council is deadlocked and they have to put the matter to the free population. But the city fathers are themselves bound by the law.”

Emily suspected that it was actually a great deal more complicated than that, but she got the general idea. Not a democracy in the sense she understood it, then, but perhaps a more lawful state than an absolute monarchy. And besides, the city fathers would know that they didn’t dare push people too far. The results might be disastrous.

“Rather like Dragon’s Den,” Alassa said, clearly remembering their brief meeting with the city fathers after they’d been kidnapped. “The council has absolute power as long as it doesn’t push too far.”

“True,” Lady Barb agreed. “And isn’t that true of every government?”

She waved to the innkeeper and paid out a small pile of gold coins. The innkeeper carried them over to a set of scales, weighed them carefully, then totted up what they owed. Emily watched in some amusement, remembering her first experience with gold coins; none of them, even the ones issued by a single kingdom, were standardized. Naturally, their value tended to fluctuate too. It didn’t help that various alchemists had actually succeeded in turning lead into gold, although it didn’t last long and was easily detectable with the right spells. Professor Thande had claimed that turning gold into lead lasted longer, but apparently it wasn’t a skill that was in great demand.

I’m going to have to set up a proper mint
, Emily thought, as Lady Barb motioned for them to stand up and head out to the carriages.
And then standardize all of the currency
.

There was no fort blocking the road into Red Rose, somewhat to Emily’s surprise, before she realized that any large raiding party would have to come through Tarn before it reached the next kingdom. The mountains would make it harder for bandits to operate, although Emily suspected that they would never be eradicated completely. But if both kingdoms were quietly leaving the mountains as a barrier between them, it was likely that they rarely patrolled the area. The mountain folk wouldn’t have to turn to banditry to survive.

The countryside seemed marshy, almost completely abandoned. Emily looked out of the carriage as the sun started to set in the sky, wondering if she’d been wrong about the mountains being the only natural barrier. The marshes would provide another problem for an invading army, as well as being almost completely devoid of supplies. A small party might be able to survive–the sergeants had taught Emily what plants could be safely eaten and how to obtain water–but an army would find itself in serious trouble. No doubt the inhabitants of Tarn were quietly delighted that Red Rose couldn’t really expand towards them either.

Emily sighed as the stars started to appear in the sky. There was no such thing as being able to read the future in the stars–or so she had been told–but she
had
learned how to use some of them to navigate. Several of the route marches the sergeants had taken them on had been in pitch darkness.
This
world didn’t have streetlights pushing back the night. And the countryside was often infested with creatures that only came out when the sun had vanished below the horizon.

“Traveling at night isn’t safe,” Alassa said. “But we can’t stop until we reach the Red Castle.”

“As long as we can stay on the road,” Emily muttered. Outside, it was so dark that she could see almost nothing outside the carriage. Even the use of one of the night vision spells didn’t help much. “What happens if we drive into the bog?”

“We die,” Alassa said. “Hardly anyone lives here and they’re never friendly to outsiders. They normally just ignore everyone, even tax collectors. But then, they have very little to collect.”

Emily scowled and closed her eyes. God alone knew how long it would be before they reached the Red Castle, but she might as well try to get some sleep. There would be dancing when they arrived and she would be expected to join in. Or would she? She hadn’t had to dance at Alluvia.

Wait and see
, she told herself, and drifted off to sleep.

W
AKE UP,” ALASSA HISSED. “YOU’LL WANT
to see this.”

Emily opened her eyes and stared out of the window. The Red Castle was rising up in front of them, a towering fairy-tale structure that seemed too fragile to be real. It couldn’t possibly be intended for war, she decided. She wasn’t even sure how it managed to remain stable. It shouldn’t be able to exist.

Magic
, she thought, remembering Whitehall’s interior.
A wizard did it
.

The castle seemed to be glowing with an eerie red light, casting an odd sheen over the surrounding buildings. There didn’t seem to be a full-sized city, merely a handful of buildings and guardposts. Emily guessed that the castle had actually been designed as a place for the royal family to visit when they wanted a break and would therefore be some distance from the capital city. But they couldn’t rely on it in wartime. A single mana-eating spell would cripple the spells holding the castle together and it would simply collapse under its own weight.

She felt the waves of magic as the carriage clattered over the drawbridge and into a large courtyard. There was more magic running through the air than anywhere Emily had ever been, apart from Whitehall. And it felt oddly familiar, reminding her of the nexus that existed under the school, where she’d fought and beaten Shadye. Had the Red Castle been built on another nexus? The advantages of such a position were obvious–and they might explain why the castle itself was so fragile. There would be no way to take down its wards without inside help.

Which was precisely what Shadye had at Whitehall
, Emily thought. The memory still horrified her.
He had me.

The carriage stopped and she clambered out, followed by Alassa. Neither of them looked their best, Emily realized, wondering if they would be expected to change into something more comfortable before they met the King. She glanced at her watch and realized it was almost midnight. Unless the time zone was different in Red Rose…she scowled as she realized there was no way to know. The timekeeping system here didn’t seem to be as well-organized as the one on Earth.

“It has been decided,” Nightingale said self-importantly, “that you will have time to change before you meet the King.” He waved to a handful of maids. “Take them to their rooms and help them to change.”

Lady Barb followed them as they were escorted down long crystal corridors and into a single oversized room. Like Whitehall, the interior of the Red Castle was far larger on the inside than on the outside. Someone had probably spent years mapping out the basic structure, creating a building that was effectively an Object of Power in its own right. Like Whitehall, it might even have a form of intelligence, perhaps enough to manipulate its own structure. It was a true wonder of her new world.

Emily sighed when she saw that the room had a proper bathtub, large enough for four girls to sit comfortably. Baths were rare at Whitehall; the only time she’d been able to have a proper soak had been when they’d gone swimming as part of Martial Magic. But there was no time to enjoy it; she pulled off her traveling clothes, stood briefly under the shower to wash away the dirt and grime, and then donned the next dress. Alassa pushed the maids away, used a spell to do her hair and then pulled on her own dress.

“We’re going to have real problems if this goes on,” she muttered. “It’s already midnight.”

“Yeah,” Emily agreed. “How long do we have to dance for?”

They were late at the Red Castle, which meant that they would probably leave late the following morning, which meant that they would be late at the next destination…if it had been up to her, they would either have gone directly to Zangaria through the portal or stayed a couple of days at each kingdom, just to catch their breath. The punishing schedule was going to drive her mad. Or they might wind up so tired that the next assassination attempt would succeed.

“At least an hour,” Alassa said. She straightened up, glared at herself in the mirror and then marched over to the door. “My father told me that being a princess brought responsibilities as well as rights.”

A pity he didn’t make you understand that earlier
, Emily thought, as they walked through the fairy-tale corridors, surrounded by their guards. Lady Barb walked beside Emily, glancing around suspiciously as they passed servants and other guards. She didn’t seem very happy to be in the Red Castle, but Emily could understand it. A castle with a mutable interior could easily be turned against them by the person in charge.

They stepped through an arch and into the main hall. The king–King Rupert, if Emily recalled correctly–stood up and waved as they entered, rather than following any form of protocol. Emily found herself liking him on sight. He was a short fat man with a jovial smile, wearing a golden tunic that glittered as it caught the light. Behind him, there were three young men and a single woman. The woman seemed almost in awe of Alassa.

“Never mind protocol,” King Rupert said, as he stepped off the dais and swept Alassa up in a hug. “It has been
years
since I have had the pleasure of your company.” He looked over at Emily and winked at her. “And the famed Necromancer’s Bane. I have long hoped to make your acquaintance.”

Alassa smiled as King Rupert let go of her. “Thank you for your welcome, Uncle Rupert,” she said. “I’m sorry about the delay.”

“I’m just sorry someone tried to kill you,” King Rupert said. His gaze moved to Prince Hedrick. “And Hedrick! Why you’re here I will never know.”

“I greet you in the name of my father,” Hedrick said, sullenly. He didn’t seem to cope well with the absence of protocol. “And my father sent me.”

“Got sick of looking at you, did he?” King Rupert asked. “Can’t say I blame him. Use some of that magic to give yourself a better face, boy.”

He looked back at Alassa. “But I am forgetting my manners,” he added. “You will remember Jayman, of course; I think he was ten when you last saw him. My heir now–and married to a delightful young woman. I had to bribe him to convince him to attend this reception.” He held up a hand and stage-whispered. “He doesn’t like these parties.”

Emily looked over at Prince Jayman. It was hard to see how he was related to King Rupert, because Jayman was tall, inhumanly thin and had a rather sour face, as if he were constantly biting on a lemon. And he didn’t seem to be good at hiding the fact he didn’t
like
being the butt of the King’s jokes. He gave Emily a brief look of disdain, as if he’d discovered her hiding under his shoe, and then returned his attention to his father. Emily felt a flash of pity for his wife, wherever she was. She didn’t seem to have attended.

“And then there’s Slark, who is your age, and Athol, who is actually a year younger,” King Rupert continued. “Both of them are in the prime of life; Athol is going to Whitehall later this year, when term resumes. It might be good for you to be engaged without actually marrying for some time.”

Emily had to fight to keep a straight face as she studied the two younger princes. Slark should have been handsome, but he had a slimy appearance that gave Emily the creeps; Hedrick, whatever else could be said about him, struck her as a far better person. Athol looked reassuringly normal, but he also seemed unformed. He wouldn’t be able to marry until after leaving Whitehall, at least if he intended to marry a crown princess. And he was a year younger than Alassa. Would that actually matter?

“And, finally, my daughter Mariah,” King Rupert concluded. “You’ll discover that you have something in common. You were both terrible brats when you were young!”

Alassa stiffened as the king laughed, although the movement would have been impossible for anyone to see without knowing Alassa very well. Princess Mariah looked to be about twelve years old, although it was impossible to be sure. She was tall, but she didn’t appear to have started puberty yet. Emily couldn’t help wondering if there was a reason she hadn’t started to grow breasts, unless she was just a late developer.

And Mariah didn’t seem to find her father very funny either.

“But I do understand that you’re tired, so we are going to have only a small formal dance,” King Rupert said, after a long moment. He waved a hand towards the minstrels, who began to play a waltzing tune. “Slack will give you the first dance. And Hedrick can partner Mariah around the dance floor.”

Emily stepped backwards as the throne room became a dance hall. King Rupert laughed out loud as dance couples formed up, waving cheerfully to his subjects while watching Alassa with a semi-parental eye. He seemed to be almost insane–or maybe he just enjoyed life. Emily couldn’t help wondering what would happen to Red Rose when the crown prince took the throne. He didn’t seem inclined to turn into a cheerful King.

“Take a seat if you don’t want to dance,” Lady Barb said. “If you’re standing up, it implies that you’re looking for a partner.”

“Oh,” Emily said. She’d never been to a courtly ball before leaving Earth. But then, no one knew that–and those who thought they knew the truth behind her birth considered her little better than a commoner. “You’re not looking for a dance partner, are you?”