Wedding Hells (Schooled in Magic Book 8) (16 page)

“And then resize it again,” Alassa said. She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Take the lower half, then go away for an hour.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” the tailor said.

Emily looked away as they removed the rest of the dress and hurried out of the chamber, closing the door behind them. Alassa, wearing nothing more than a pair of silken drawers, marched over to a table, poured herself a glass of water and drank it hastily. It didn’t look as though she’d been having a good time.

“Nineteen dresses,” she said, as she turned back to face Emily. “And I’ve only had five fitted so far.”

“There are only fourteen to go,” the blonde-haired girl said.

Alassa’s eyes flickered. “I shouldn’t worry about it, Alicia,” she said, in a sweet tone that fooled no one. “Your wedding will likely be delayed.”

Alicia rose to her feet. Emily remembered her now, the sole heir to a barony who hadn’t been Confirmed before her father’s head had been lopped off by King Randor. She’d been staying at court ever since, trying to convince the king to give her the barony. If she was still here, Emily suspected, it didn’t look as though she’d succeeded, even though she was twenty-two years old. Alicia’s face was so pale it was almost translucent, but there was a wild desperation in her eyes that didn’t bode well for the future.

“And yours is likely to drive you mad before the honeymoon,” Alicia said. She turned to Emily, a show of calculated rudeness directed at Alassa. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance once again, Lady Emily.”

She swept out of the room before Emily could say a word, slamming the door behind her with a loud
thump
. Emily watched her go, then looked back at Alassa and lifted her eyebrows.

“She’s been like that all week,” Alassa said. “Alternatively snapping at me and praising me.”

Emily shook her head. “What was that about her wedding?”

“She isn’t the baroness yet, so there’s a danger my father will marry her off to someone he picks,” Alassa said. She shrugged, as if it were a matter of small import. “He hasn’t made any decision yet.”

“Poor girl,” Emily said. She hadn’t had much of a chance to get to know Alicia, but she couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. “Is he
going
to make a decision?”

“I don’t know,” Alassa said. “But the older Alicia gets without being Confirmed and raised to the Barony, the more her subjects will act independently of her. She’ll have real problems asserting control when they’re all used to living without a baron.”

Which is the same problem facing Lord Hans and Lady Regina
, Emily thought.
Is Alicia going to be that bad to her subjects
?

“She wants to talk to you,” Frieda said. Emily almost jumped. She’d forgotten the younger girl was there. Alassa just had a way of sucking all attention towards her. “She was asking me questions about you at breakfast.”

Emily frowned. “What sort of questions?”

“About Markus and Melissa and everything that happened last year,” Frieda said. “She was
thrilled
to hear about the duel.”

“Wonderful,” Emily said, sourly.
She
would have preferred to forget the moment Master Grey’s body had exploded into flame. “Why does she want to talk to me?”

“I have no idea,” Frieda said. “But it isn’t something she feels comfortable discussing in front of Alassa.”

“Probably trying to secure your support for her claims,” Alassa said, dryly. “She’s been trying to sweet-talk me, half the time.”

“But if she’s snapping at you the rest of the time,” Emily mused, “that doesn’t make sense.”

“I know,” Alassa said. She smiled, rather coldly. “So far, she hasn’t gotten very far with the other noblemen. Some of them are only willing to back her in exchange for concessions, others think they’d be happier leaving the barony without a baron. I give it a few months before her neighbors start trying to take bits of her territory.”

Emily nodded, rubbing her forehead. “
I’m
not planning to invade her lands.”

“That makes you the only one,” Alassa said. She tapped her ears. “I hear that Baron Gaunt even demanded she marry him, in exchange for his support.”

Emily shook her head in disgust. “He’s...what? Three times her age? And married?”

“The old wife would be put aside,” Alassa said. She didn’t have any moral objections, Emily knew. Some of
her
early suitors had been a decade or two older than her. “But my father would never agree to the match. Combining two baronies into one...it would create too much instability.”

“And a formidable power base for Gaunt,” Emily said. She felt another flicker of sympathy for Alicia. “It would ruin her position, wouldn’t it? I mean, if she did try to marry him. The king would see it as a threat.”

“Probably,” Alassa agreed. “My father has become a great deal more paranoid later, Emily. The stress of the wedding is driving him insane.”

Emily smiled. “Isn’t it supposed to be driving
you
insane?”

“He has to put on a good show,” Alassa said. “This isn’t just about Jade and I.”

She pulled a dressing gown off the wall and donned it. “”But don’t worry about it now,” she added. “Why don’t you tell me all about Caleb and his family?”

“Later,” Emily said. She wanted a chance to gather her own thoughts first. “Why don’t
you
tell me about Jade?”

“We haven’t been able to meet in private,” Alassa said. She smiled, lazily. “But at least we have the parchments. We can still talk.”

“And you’re going to be married,” Emily said. “And then you’ll have all the time in the world together.”

Alassa sighed. “I don’t know if that’s true,” she said. She sounded nervous, oddly. Emily couldn’t recall her being nervous since they’d become friends. “
My
parents don’t spend
that
much time together.”

“I’m sure it will be different for you and Jade,” Emily said.

“I hope you’re right,” Alassa said. “I really do.”

“I
WAS SURPRISED YOU DIDN’T STAY
longer in Swanhaven,” King Randor said, the following morning. He’d greeted her briefly the previous evening, but he hadn’t had time for a private discussion. “A couple of hours are hardly long enough to make up your mind about the claimants.”

Emily forced herself to meet his eyes. Randor was a formidable personality, alternately forceful and shrewd. Even in an informal setting - he’d invited her into his private study and told her to relax, rather than remain on her knees - he still dominated the room. Alassa, for all that she’d been neglected as a child, had clearly learned her lessons in presenting herself from her father.

“I didn’t see any need to remain longer, Your Majesty,” she said. It still felt faintly absurd to address someone - anyone - by honorific, but she doubted she had a choice. “I believe I saw enough in the city itself to be concerned about the future.”

“Indeed?” Randor asked. “Do tell.”

“The city is on the verge of an explosion,” Emily said, flatly. “I saw hundreds of soldiers on the streets, but there didn’t seem to be enough of them to deter trouble when it finally blows up. Worse, the claimants - both of them - seem prepared to take the harshest of measures against potential troublemakers. They’ve only succeeded in creating martyrs.”

“Acting against
known
troublemakers
may
lead to the rise of other troublemakers,” Randor observed, archly. “But
not
acting against known troublemakers is a sign of weakness.”

“They wanted the deaths to be as horrific as possible,” Emily said. She understood that Randor was pointing out flaws in her argument, but it was still irritating. “It would have been easy to have the troublemakers beheaded, or enslaved, or merely thrown into jail. Instead, they were allowed to starve to death in the stocks. That in itself is a sign of weakness.”

“Or a sign of resolve,” Randor pointed out. “A baron cannot let himself be hampered by the
potential
for trouble.”

Emily met his eyes. “They weren’t any better in person, Your Majesty,” she said, firmly. “I think Lord Hans is likely to overreact to a problem and spark off an uprising. I’m not actually convinced he’s
sane.
Lady Regina, on the other hand, is far colder and more calculating. I suspect
she
was the one who issued the orders to let the troublemakers die in the stocks.”

“It might have been,” Randor said. “They’re meant to share authority until I decide on who takes the title, but if they’re not in agreement...”

He allowed his voice to trail off. “Do you have any other observations?”

“Lady Regina was trying to push her cousin’s buttons,” Emily said. “I saw him grasping his sword in anger. She’s either trying to goad him into something stupid, or she’s too stupid to realize that he might skewer her.”

“You were in the room,” Randor said. “She might have assumed you’d protect her if Hans decided to try to kill her.”

Emily shrugged. “My honest advice is to find someone else for the post, Your Majesty,” she said. She honestly wasn’t sure if she would have tried to save Regina’s life, if her cousin had drawn his sword and tried to bisect her. “Neither of them is concerned with anything other than their own power and prestige; they think they have a
right
to the title, rather than trying to earn it.”

“A common belief,” Randor noted. “Do you realize there
aren’t
any other candidates for the position?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Emily said. She considered it for a moment. “You could always put them both aside and give the title to Jade. He’d make a good baron.”

Randor’s face went still. “I couldn’t just put them both aside,” he said. “And I couldn’t execute them without due cause.”

And making Jade a baron would undermine one of the reasons for choosing him as Alassa’s husband
, Emily thought, mentally kicking herself. Randor hadn’t yelled at her, but the unspoken rebuke hung in the air.
Even if Randor did, Jade would face opposition from the other two and the rest of the aristocracy
.

She sighed, inwardly. The other aristocrats might not like either Hans or Regina - she had no idea how they felt about the claimants - but they’d die to defend the principle of blood succession. Hell, even the coup plotters had planned to put the former Duke of Iron on the throne rather than exterminate the Royal Family. He might have been enslaved, his mind held in bondage, yet he’d still be the lawful heir to the throne. Randor had to pick one of two, not take a third option. There just weren’t any other candidates for the title.

“I may choose a husband for Regina,” Randor mused. “Someone who could keep her in line, if necessary.”

Emily shrugged. Regina would hold the title, not her husband; it wouldn’t be easy for her husband to dominate her as long as she refused to let him. She doubted that
anyone
could keep Regina in line. It was far more likely that her husband would go to sleep one night and get his throat slit while he was helpless. Regina would have nothing to lose by killing an abusive husband. It wasn’t as if she could be stripped of her title.

Unless he chooses someone with wealth and power of his own
, she thought.
But that would mean giving that person a power base he could use against the king...

“If you feel that’s the best option,” she said, out loud. “But I’d feel sorry for the poor man.”

Randor’s lips twitched. “Do you have a better solution?”

“A wife for Lord Hans?” Emily suggested. “Someone who could keep him in line?”

She shook her head, a moment later. It was hard to imagine
anyone
would want to marry Lord Hans, even with the promise of being married to a Baron. She wouldn’t condemn anyone to that fate.

“There are few who could keep him in line,” Randor mused. “Do you have any other suggestions?”

“I’ve given you the best advice I can, Your Majesty,” Emily said, feeling her head starting to ache. “If you choose to do otherwise, I cannot stop you.”

“I suppose not,” Randor said. “You’ve changed, Lady Emily.”

He took a look at the ring on her finger. “And your
father
has clearly acknowledged you.”

Emily said nothing. Randor wasn’t a powerful magician - she had a feeling he wasn’t anything like as powerful as his daughter - but he was very good at reading people. She might as well be an open book to him, no matter how hard she fought to control herself. If nothing else, he’d see when she was trying to mask her feelings and know it was something important.

“Your duel was quite interesting,” the king added, after a long moment. “Killing a grown man must have been a challenge.”

“It was,” Emily said, flatly. Alassa hadn’t been there, but Randor would probably have read some of the more accurate eyewitness accounts. “But I didn’t want to do it.”

“You had no choice,” Randor said. “Many of my courtiers are now scared of you.”

Emily felt her lips twitch. Randor could have most of the country beheaded on a whim, if he wished; surely, it would make more sense to be scared of
him
. But then, she
had
killed two necromancers as well as a combat sorcerer. The eyewitness accounts would be enough to convince many fence-sitters that she was dangerous. It was no longer possible to believe that Shadye had killed himself and Mother Holly had lost control of her powers...

But better they do believe that
, Emily reminded herself.
They wouldn’t go looking for a secret weapon if they think Mother Holly accidentally killed herself.

“I don’t want them to be scared of me,” she said.

“Better they fear you as well as hate you than merely hate you without fear,” Randor said, darkly. “Far too many already blame you for the changes to my kingdom, Emily. They are nervous about what the future will bring.”

“Changes,” Emily said.

“Quite,” Randor agreed. He leaned forward, suddenly. “I understand that you have entered a formal courtship. Might I ask why you didn’t seek my permission before proceeding?”