Wedding Hells (Schooled in Magic Book 8) (3 page)

She looked up at him. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

Void blinked, nonplussed. “What?”

Emily sighed. “Where I come from, married couples exchange rings,” she explained. Void had listened to her stories of Earth with great interest, but she’d never discussed marriages with him. “The boy offers the girl a ring when he wants to marry her.”

Void looked faintly displeased. “
Traditionally
,” he said stiffly, “a sorcerer will receive four rings in his - or her - lifetime. The first one” - he pointed to the box in Emily’s hand - “is a family ring, which is generally presented when the sorcerer is deemed mature. Most families hand them out in a private ceremony after the sorcerer passes his first set of exams. Among other things, they serve as proof of identity.”

Emily looked down at the ring for a long moment. “And what does this one mean?”

“People will ask why I haven’t given you a ring,” Void said, dryly. “That one marks you as a member of
my
family.”

“Oh,” Emily said. It was suddenly very hard to speak. She had to swallow, hard, before she could say a word. “Do...do you have any other family?”

“I’m the last of my family,” Void said, curtly. “But I do not believe they would have objected to me welcoming you into the family. It is far from uncommon to adopt promising newborn magicians and they are always treated as if they were born into the family.”

He shrugged. “You can wear the ring, if you like, or keep it with you. Certain people
may
ask you to present it. If they do, make sure you have it on your finger when you show it to them.”

Emily nodded, looking down at the ring. “What are the others? I mean, the other rings?”

Void held up his left hand, revealing three rings. “You’ll get a ring when you complete your Sixth Year exams and leave Whitehall,” he said. “Your master, assuming you do an apprenticeship, will give you a ring when you complete your training. And you’ll get a fourth ring when you have a child.”

“You’ve only got three rings,” Emily said.

“So I do,” Void agreed. He tapped the table, firmly. “You have entered a formal courtship with Caleb, as I understand it. You will be going to Beneficence after your exams, correct?”

“Yes,” Emily said. She had no intention of letting him distract her for long. “I’m going to meet his parents. Lady Barb said she would accompany me.”

“She’s there to be your chaperone,” Void said, curtly. “Under the terms of a formal courtship, his parents will be taking a good long look at you
and
your choice of chaperone.”

Emily frowned. “Will they expect you to come?”

“It is generally assumed that a chaperone will be female,” Void said. “A combat sorceress would be regarded as an excellent chaperone. She will be expected to defend your honor to his parents.
However
, there will be times when you are expected to defend your
own
honor.”

“I see,” Emily said, uncertainly.

“His siblings may challenge you, gently,” Void added. “Keep your tone polite, but don’t give them any ground. They’ll be looking for signs of weakness.”

He paused. “You and Caleb will be expected to behave yourselves,” he warned. “His family will be watching to see how you treat him - and vice versa. When you’re at a formal setting, be formal. Don’t kiss in public...”

“I wouldn’t,” Emily objected.

“And I
strongly
advise you not to be caught in bed with Caleb while you’re in his family home,” Void finished, ignoring her comment. “His family will
not
approve.”

He held up a hand before she could say a word. “Lady Barb will probably go through how you should behave as well,” he added. “I suggest you listen to her. She’s been through it herself.”

Emily blinked, distracted from her embarrassment. “I thought she’d never married!”

“Her courtship failed,” Void said. “Yours...”

He shrugged. “The purpose of a courtship is to build up a lasting relationship,” he said, after a moment. “Sometimes, two people find that they are incompatible, no matter what they do. There is no shame in breaking off a courtship, even as you approach the wedding day; better that, Emily, than being tied to someone you don’t like.”

“I understand,” Emily said, quietly. She took a breath. “What happens if his family doesn’t like me?”

“Or thinks you’re too dangerous to bring into the family,” Void added. “It would depend on Caleb. Is he willing to give up his family to be with you?”

Emily swallowed. Markus had given up his family to be with Melissa, but she’d had the impression that Markus didn’t like his family very much.

“I don’t know,” she said, finally.

“You’re not just marrying him,” Void said. “You’ll be joining his entire family. You might discover that you can’t bear the thought of being married to them.”

Emily looked down at her pale hands. She would have left her family without a second thought; hell, she’d certainly never tried to find a way back to Earth. But Caleb? He’d admitted he had problems with his family, but he didn’t hate them the way Emily had hated her stepfather. Would he leave his family for her? Could
she
ask him to make such a sacrifice?

“I don’t want to think about it,” she admitted, reluctantly.

“No one will think any less of you if you decide that you cannot bear to be married to them,” Void said. “There are dozens of failed courtships every year, Emily. But
you
are the one who has to make that choice. I cannot dictate it for you.”

“Fulvia tried to dictate who Melissa married,” Emily pointed out, mulishly.

“I’m not Fulvia,” Void countered. “And I have very little to gain or lose from
your
courtship. Fulvia had the interests of an entire family to consider; I...my position is not dependent on you.”

Emily considered it. “Is that true of
his
parents?”

Void shrugged. “Caleb is the second-born, isn’t he?”

“I think so,” Emily said. She forced herself to remember what Caleb had said. “He’s definitely got at least one older brother and a second brother - I think he’s three or four years younger than Caleb.”

“They’re not
that
important a family,” Void said, dispassionately. “They
may
see advantages in having their son married to you. I think they may be a little disappointed that it wasn’t their eldest son who started to court you, because he’d be the heir. But if something were to happen to him, Caleb would be next in line.”

“Caleb isn’t going to worry about that,” Emily objected.

“He should,” Void said. “Unless he leaves the family, he
will
be the heir if something happens to his older brother.”

“It all sounds very cold,” Emily said.

“Courtships are cold,” Void said. “But when they work, they tend to work very well.”

He shrugged, again. “If you really want to go back to Whitehall, I’ll arrange for you to be collected tomorrow; we can shut the house down together. After that, you’ll be the only person who can enter and leave at will.”

Emily felt a stab of bitter pain. The Grandmaster was dead. He’d left her the house and a letter, warning her that her life was about to become a great deal harder. Part of her just wanted to stay in the house, wrapping her wards around herself and forgetting the rest of the world. But she couldn’t, not if she wanted to pass her exams. She needed those qualifications to advance.

And Alassa would kill me if I didn’t attend her wedding
, she thought.

The thought caused another bitter pang. Alassa and Imaiqah would be leaving Whitehall after their exams. She’d be alone; her only true friend left at school would be the Gorgon, unless she left too. Frieda would be staying, of course, and so would Caleb, but it wouldn’t be the same. The former was two years younger than she; the latter was her boyfriend, not someone she could confide in.

“I have somewhere I need to be,” Void added, quietly. “I probably won’t see you again for a while. But, for what it’s worth, I’m very proud of you.”

“Thank you,” Emily whispered. “For this and...and everything.”

“You’re welcome,” Void said. He tapped the box. “Aren’t you going to put on the ring?”

Emily hesitated, then cast a handful of detection spells. Void nodded in approval - he’d warned her, several times, to be sure she checked before touching anything - and waited until she was sure the ring was safe before allowing it to rest on her palm. It felt warm against her bare skin, pulsing faintly with magic. And it felt almost as if it
belonged
.

“I wonder,” she said, slowly. “Does this make you my father?”

“It makes you part of the family, such as it is,” Void said. He’d never talked about his family, even when he’d encouraged her to open up about her mother and stepfather. “There’s only me now.”

“I’m sorry,” Emily said.

“Don’t be,” Void told her. “Their deaths weren’t your fault.”

Emily looked down at the ring, drinking in the details. It looked as if he’d wrapped a piece of golden thread around a silver thread and melted them together, weaving magic into the raw material until it was almost alive. She’d seen more elaborate pieces of jewelry - Alassa wore them frequently - but the ring was
special
. It told her that she
belonged
.

Carefully, she placed it on her finger. It was a little loose, but as the magic spiked around the ring it tightened just enough to ensure it wouldn’t fall off. She pulled at it and discovered that it needed a hard tug to pull it free. She’d never really liked rings - she’d never had the money to buy any jewelry on Earth - but Void’s ring seemed perfect.

“Welcome to the family, Emily,” Void said. He took a breath. “And now you can go work on Alassa’s wedding present.”

Emily smiled. Imaiqah, thankfully, had reminded her that the happy couple would expect a present from each of their guests, saving Emily from a considerable amount of embarrassment. But she knew Alassa deserved more than a set of cutlery or a blender, assuming they even existed in the Nameless World. She’d settled, after confirming she wouldn’t have to hand the gift over publicly, for one of her notebooks, outlining the different political ideas from Earth. Alassa wouldn’t have an easy time of it when she took the throne and Emily hoped an infusion - another infusion - of ideas from Earth would help. She was, after all, one of the few people who knew about Earth.

“It’s almost finished,” she said. Writing the notebook had taken longer than she’d expected, but she was proud of her work. “She’ll love it.”

“As long as no one sees it,” Void warned. “The truth of your origins is not something we want to get out.”

“I
HAVE SPOKEN TO MISTRESS IRENE
,” Void said, the following morning. “Lady Barb will be here this afternoon to escort you back to Whitehall.”

“That’s good,” Emily said. She couldn’t help feeling torn. Part of her wanted to go back to the school that had been her first true home, part of her wanted to stay put. She’d killed Master Grey. Nothing would ever be the same again. “Will...will you be making me do more spells this morning?”

“I was thinking we might do something a little bit different,” Void said. He tapped the table meaningfully. “But you would be well advised to eat before we start.”

Emily smiled as she opened the breadbox and recovered a loaf of bread, a crock of butter and several eggs, the latter all wrapped in preservation spells. Void had already brewed a pot of Kava; she poured herself a mug, then whipped the eggs, dumped them into a pan and scrambled them on the stove. It wouldn’t be very fancy, certainly not compared to the multi-choice breakfasts she’d enjoyed at Whitehall, but it would keep her going. Her appetite had increased along with her power.

“Make sure you cast preservation spells over everything before you leave,” Void said, as she reached for a plate and poured the eggs over the bread. “The last thing you want is to come home and discover that the food has gone bad.”

Emily nodded. Sergeant Miles had hammered that into her head, along with a number of other titbits she’d done her best to recall. She
still
wasn’t a very good cook, but at least she could make something that would keep her alive. Sergeant Harkin, on the other hand, had been able to create the most stupendous feasts, just from ingredients he’d found in the forest. She couldn’t help wondering, as she sat down, what that fearsome man would have made of her now. She’d killed a combat sorcerer in a formal duel.

“Your exams are scheduled for two months from today,” Void said, as she ate. “I will be expecting you to do well, very well. Despite circumstances...”

He shrugged. “But you’re still getting used to your increased power,” he added, warningly. “If you feel yourself having too many headaches, or having problems coping with spells you used to be able to cast without bother, go to Mistress Irene and ask to be held back. There’s no shame in admitting you need more time to recuperate.”

“But everyone would point and laugh,” Emily objected.

“You shouldn’t care about the good opinion of idiots,” Void said. “Would you have advised your boyfriend to take his scheduled exams even though he spent most of the year in a coma?”

“No,” Emily said, reluctantly. She knew he was right, but she’d picked up enough of the school’s ethos to believe that being held back was humiliating. She’d still be classed as a child even as she turned twenty-one. “But Caleb had an excuse for missing so many classes.”

“So do you,” Void said, dryly. “You can be held back, if you wish, and no one will think any less of you.”

That
wasn’t true, Emily knew. It was rare for a student to
willingly
repeat their first four years of schooling - or even merely go back to Third Year or redo Fourth Year. The lure of being considered an adult, rather than a child, was too great. Caleb had been taunted, she remembered; she didn’t want to have to endure classes with students two years younger than her, all of whom would be scared witless by her. But he was right. The people whose opinions
mattered
would understand
precisely
why she’d repeated a year or two.