Lessons in Etiquette (Schooled in Magic series) (6 page)

“Yep,” Alassa said. She grinned. “Here is a friend of yours.”

“Lady Emily,” Cat said, with a florid bow. He was several years older than her, but they shared the Martial Magic class. “Would you do me the very great honor of taking a turn around the dance floor?”

Emily hesitated, then Alassa gave her a gentle push forward into Cat’s arms. He caught her hands and pulled her out into the dancers, who were lining up for a new dance. Emily found herself staring around in panic–she didn’t know what to do–before realizing that one of the players at the front of the hall was about to give instructions. They sounded awfully complicated, she decided as the music started to play, but as the dancers began to move she realized that it was just a matter of following the music as much as anything else. Besides, Cat made a very tolerant partner.

“I still remember my first dance,” he admitted, as the tune finally came to an end. “I trod on so many toes that fifteen girls threatened to hex me.”

He gave her a second bow. “Would you care for another dance? Or maybe you should let one of your other admirers take you around the hall.”

Emily glanced around, surprised. Several other boys, including two she didn’t recognize, looked to be angling to catch her eye. It puzzled her–surely they couldn’t
all
think of her as a marriage partner–until she realized that there were more guys than girls in the hall. Every girl had a handful of admirers trailing after her. Emily found herself flushing, then summoned up her courage, winked at Cat, and headed over to one of the guys she didn’t know.

“Thank you,” he stammered, as the music started to play again. “I’ll try not to tread on you.”

Surprisingly, Emily found herself relaxing as she traded partners again and again, feeling that she could actually begin to enjoy the dancing. It wasn’t the same as formal balls, Alassa had warned her, but there were fewer expectations; no one seemed to seriously expect a marriage proposal to be sorted out on the dance floor. And there was no dance card; she could dance with whoever she liked, without needing to worry about offending anyone. Alassa seemed to have no shortage of older males dancing with her either. Most of them Emily vaguely recognized as having some aristocratic ties.

She forced herself to take a breath after the seventh dance and headed over to the buffet tables the staff had placed along the wall. They were piled with food, ranging from dishes and treats that were vaguely familiar to items she had never seen or imagined before coming to Whitehall. It was funny how she never really felt homesick, not even after discovering that magic couldn’t solve everything. But then, she’d never really felt as if she belonged on Earth.

I owe Shadye
, she thought. It wasn’t a pleasant thought.

He’d kidnapped her, tried to kill her, then manipulated her–and then she’d had to kill him. There had been no choice.

“The grandmaster has put on a decent spread,” a rather snooty voice said, from behind her. “One of the man’s redeeming features, if you ask me.”

Emily turned, to see a tall thin man peering down his nose at her with a practiced smirk. He seemed instantly dislikeable, the kind of person who would happily condemn Emily for not being practically perfect in every way, yet…there was something about him that nagged at her mind. The more she tried to see his features, the more they seemed to slip away from her, as if something was interfering with her perception. And that meant he was hiding under a powerful glamor…

Understanding clicked. “
Void
?”

Her guardian tapped his lips, mischievously. “The grandmaster doesn’t know I’m here and I would prefer to keep it that way,” he said. “I’m casting a privacy ward, but do try and look a little disgusted. No doubt Sir Dogsbody here”–he gestured to himself–“has been commissioned on behalf of someone high-and-mighty to try to convince you to marry his son. Or something like that.”

Emily found her voice. “What are you doing here?”

“You need a more imaginative question,” Void informed her. He picked up a sausage-like delicacy and popped it into his mouth. “There have been…developments. Are you aware that Alassa’s escort has reached Dragon’s Den?”

Emily shrugged. Whitehall paid lip service to the claim that its students were all equal, even though some of them were definitely more equal than others. Consequently, the small squadron of troops and combat sorcerers who would be escorting Alassa–and Emily–to Zangaria had been ordered to stay in Dragon’s Den overnight, before picking her up in the morning. It struck Emily as a waste of resources, but apparently it was tradition and couldn’t be gainsaid by mere mortals.

“I checked them out at a distance,” Void added. “Their leader is Lady Barb.”

He spoke as though the name should have meant something to Emily, but it meant nothing, nothing at all. “I’ve never heard of her,” Emily admitted finally, when it became clear that Void was not going to elaborate. “Who
is
she?”

It was hard to tell with the glamor messing up her perception, but Void looked almost…
embarrassed
. “Lady Barb has heard of
you
,” he said. “More importantly, she…has a grudge against me. And you’re my ward.”

Emily blinked in surprise. “A
grudge
against
you
?”

“Yes,” Void said. “It’s a long story. And it isn’t one I choose to share. But I suggest that you bear in mind that she may dislike and distrust you merely because of me.”

“Why?” Emily asked. “What happened?”

“I do
not
choose to share the story,” Void said. “All I can do is suggest that you watch your back. She’s too…honorable to stick a knife in it without good cause, but she
will
distrust you.”

He held up a hand before Emily could say anything. “I would have warned you earlier, if I’d known,” he added. “I just suggest that you bear in mind that she
hates
me. Watch yourself.”

Emily watched as he turned and walked off into the crowd. His glamor seemed to twist slightly; one moment he was there, the next moment she had lost track of him completely. She shook her head in disbelief as the privacy ward fell away, wondering how he’d quite managed to get into the school. It was a droll reminder that she had a very long way to go before she could match Void, or the grandmaster.

And he’s just like Batman
, she thought, as she started to eat her food.
He vanishes while you are finishing a sentence
.

“Good food,” Alassa said, coming up beside Emily. Her small army of admirers watched her from a distance as she piled a plate high with meat patties and vegetable rolls. “Do you have something like it in your homeland?”

Emily winced. Most of the students accepted the unspoken suggestion that Void, Emily’s guardian, was in fact her
real
father. It certainly seemed to make sense; Void wouldn’t want to advertize that he had a daughter, but he wouldn’t want to abandon her completely either. Alassa, however, had deduced that Emily came from somewhere very different, although she hadn’t worked out the truth. Emily had promised that she would tell her friend on the day she was crowned queen, when she was no longer under her father’s power. It would be a long time, she hoped, before she had to keep that promise.

“Something like it,” she said, vaguely. In fact, she had the distant feeling that Whitehall’s food was considerably healthier. “Are we going to be eating like this every day?”

“Of course not,” Alassa said. She gave Emily a thin smile. “Each of the monarchs will feel the need to actually
entertain
us. Not like
him
. You think he’s courting her?”

She nodded towards the grandmaster, who was standing at the head of the room, talking eagerly with Mistress Kirdáne, Head of Magical Creatures. The little man still wore the blindfold–a simple dirty rag–that he’d worn the day Emily had first met him, but there was no mistaking the power flowing through his body. Emily knew he could have cured himself easily–magic
could
repair damaged eyes–but instead he chose to remain blind. It didn’t seem to slow him down.

“I don’t think he will be putting on a show for us,” Emily said, dryly. “And Mistress Kirdáne will happily have you mucking out the stables if you make any more veiled suggestions.”

Alassa shrugged, unrepentantly. “He kept large parts of the school stable with a rampaging necromancer trying to impose his will on the structure,” she said. “I could easily see someone wanting to bear
his
child.”

Emily glowered at her. “You’ve got mating on the brain.”

“
You
started it,” Alassa countered. Her face fell, briefly. “But I may end up engaged before I come back to Whitehall.”

“I’m sorry,” Emily said, softly. “If you want to run away…”

“My parents would just track me down and drag me back,” Alassa said. “And besides, if I did manage to escape successfully, there would be civil war. I couldn’t have that on my conscience.”

You’ve grown up
, Emily realized, feeling an odd twinge in her heart. This new improved Alassa was her work, yet would she still need Emily? Or would they drift apart?

“I believe that someone wants to dance with you,” Alassa said, taking Emily’s plate out of her hand. “Go tell him that there’s no hard feelings.”

Emily looked up and saw Jade standing there, oddly hesitant. It was worrying to see him like that, particularly because of the bravery he’d shown when they were being chased by orcs and goblins. But asking a girl out could be harder for a boy than fighting an enemy–and Jade had asked her for something more than a casual date. Swallowing, she walked over to Jade and held out her hands. He took them and pulled her out onto the dance floor.

Jade was a better dancer than Cat, Emily decided several minutes later. The instructions were even more complicated, but Jade followed them without hesitation and Emily simply followed him. As the music changed, some of the couples went off the floor, only to be replaced by newcomers. Emily shot Jade a sharp glance and realized that he’d timed it perfectly. The next dance was a slow waltz, very romantic.

Or maybe he hadn’t, she realized, as he flushed. “Don’t worry,” she muttered, as they moved together. His arms enfolding her felt surprisingly reassuring. “We can dance.”

She felt a tingle running down her spine as Jade cast a privacy ward of his own. Unlike Void’s, which had been so subtle she had barely noticed it, this one muffled the music slightly, as well as the babble of the other couples. Emily lifted a single eyebrow questioningly.

“I’d prefer to talk without being overheard,” Jade admitted. Naturally; he’d taken her up the mountain so he could propose without listening ears. He hadn’t realized that Void would follow them. “Emily…I’m sorry if I was too forward.”

He must have talked to someone, Emily realized. But who? She assumed that the boys had housemasters–rather like Madame Razz supervised the first-year girls–but she’d never met Jade’s housemaster. Or maybe he’d talked to Sergeant Miles, or one of the male tutors. He might even have approached one of the
female
tutors, hoping that they’d be able to give him good advice.

But it didn’t really matter.

“It just surprised me,” she admitted. And then Void had arrived and confused her. She’d been so distracted that she hadn’t been able to think properly. “Jade…”

She broke off, considering what to say. “Jade, I have to finish my schooling before I consider marrying anyone,” she said, finally. “And you will need to establish yourself as a combat sorcerer first, someone everyone can respect.”

Jade flushed. “I hadn’t meant that we should get married at once,” he admitted. “I believed that we could come to some agreement and marry later, when I am ready to give you a dowry.”

Emily felt her own face flush. She hadn’t even
considered
a dowry; she hadn’t bothered to look up how it worked in this world. From what Imaiqah had said, the parents of the girl were expected to provide her with a lump sum, although quite what happened to it after marriage seemed to depend upon the kingdom’s individual laws. Some kingdoms seemed to believe the money should stay with the girl, others ruled that it went to the husband–or the husband’s parents.

And if monarchy was involved, the girl’s dowry might include the entire kingdom.

“I don’t need a dowry,” she said. It had taken her months to get used to the money system of her new world, but she was fairly sure that she already had more than Jade would make in several years. She suspected that pointing that out wouldn’t help. “Look, I like you and I care about you, but we need time. I am not going to accept any marriage proposals from anyone until after I graduate.”

Jade looked at her for a long moment. “You will consider mine?”

“Yes,” Emily said. Just for a moment, she wished to be emotionless. Part of her thought she should say yes to his proposal. The rest of her pointed out that they might not be good together. God knew she had her problems with men and male attention. Could they come to love one another? Were they really suited to be a married couple? “I promise that I will consider your proposal.”