The Black Mage: Candidate (11 page)

I didn’t say a word for the rest of the night. I wanted to best Darren and win, yes, but I had never stopped to consider exactly how many mages I would be going up against. Sixty was certainly better than I had anticipated. I was second rank. That put me at the top half of our faction’s candidates… Of course there were those whose potential had grown post-ascension… but for most their limits will have undoubtedly been reached by the time they received their ranking.

And that’s when I realized it: I really could have a chance.

****

I spoke too soon.
That was the first thought that crossed my mind as I curled my knees to my chest, shivering and shaking under the heavy blankets of my cot.

Paige set a bucket on the floor. I cringed at the heavy thud of metal against stone. “Not so loud,” I begged.

“You need to drink some of that tea the healers gave you, my lady.”

My stomach gurgled and heaved and I clutched it with a groan. “Stuff was vile,” was all I could manage.

“Well, you will never get better if you don’t, and tomorrow we set off for the palace even if I have to tie you to the saddle.”

“…Wouldn’t…dare.”

She snorted. “I will, and you know it well.”

I didn’t say anything else. I just clutched the mug and shuddered. Then I downed the contents, refusing to let the bitter, chalky liquid rest on my tongue any longer than it had to. When I was done I fell back against the bed in a heap. My belongings were already packed. I just needed this sickness to end. I’d spent the past three days tossing and turning in a sleepless fit, hot and cold, unable to do anything but writhe in my misery.

The Restoration mages in the infirmary said I had a “mage’s cold.” As one could surmise it was the result of too much magic. I had never experienced it before because Master Byron had been so focused on us learning to exercise what we had with caution. The few times I had been reckless with my magic I had ended up unconscious in the infirmary, so the cold would have just been a small part of my recovery.

“Why,” I moaned, “why didn’t I listen…?”

Paige blotted a cloth against my wet, sticky skin. “Because you are stubborn, my lady. Now drink and rest.”

Gods
, I prayed
, do not put me through this for another fourteen days.

The gods never heard me.

Chapter Six

“Oh dear, sweet...” I dismounted, running a hand through my frost-strewn hair as I fell to my knees in a broken promise, not caring what I looked like to the guards standing outside the palace gate.

Never,
ever
would I put myself through that again. I had spent the first week of travel drinking the healers’ vile tea and recovering from my cold only to spend the final leg of our journey caught in an icy snowstorm that rivaled any Jerar had ever seen. I swore the moment I stepped foot in the capital city I would never push myself that hard again.

“My lady.” Paige was working hard to hide her smile. “They are waiting for us.”

I forced myself to stand, brushing off a layer of powder and scrambling to make myself presentable. Not that anyone would be able to recognize me under the layers of fur. I looked like a shaggy snow beast. The kind that terrorized children in cautionary tales told by their parents. Ella would be proud. She hated winter more than anyone else I knew.

Paige walked over to the two soldiers standing at attention. “I am escorting Lady Mage Ryiah of Demsh’aa, Prince Darren’s intended—”

She didn’t even get to finish. The palace gates swung open and one of the men grinned. “About time. You two were supposed to arrive this morning. His highness has been pacing the grounds like a caged animal. He’ll probably find you before you even reach the doors.”

The cold, my exhaustion, and everything else were instantly forgotten. Paige had to sprint to keep up with my progress as I threw my reins to the waiting hostler and searched the path ahead. I wasn’t sure if I should be excited or nervous, but at the moment the only thing I knew was that my pulse was louder than whatever Paige was trying to say.

A hand touched my arm and I turned to face my knight.

She pointed to the left.

I looked.

Saw the gardens and the marble statue in the fountain’s center. Saw the wandering nobility in their warm winter cloaks. And then I saw a scruffy gray mutt matted with snow and the person standing beside it, one hand absently rubbing its head—the other getting ready to throw a stick.

My heart stopped.
Breathe,
Ryiah
. Darren looked… I didn’t have words.
Has it really only been five months?
He was standing there in a dark brocade cloak and black leather boots. I was immediately reminded of the day we met. There was that gold chain hanging from his neck and the fading sun’s rays caught the stone at its base, a hematite oval—the signature gem of the Crown. Ink-black, jaw-length locks framed his face, bangs falling just past his eyes.

I exhaled slowly.

Whatever people said about Blayne, he couldn’t hold a candle to his brother.

Who had just looked up from his dog to catch me staring. Only this time I didn’t have to feel guilty or ashamed. Because he was mine. And I was allowed to stare.

And he was staring right back.

For a second our gazes were locked and neither of us moved.

Then he was running and I was running, and we didn’t stop until my arms were wrapped around his neck and his were locked around my waist, his face pressed in my hair.

“Five months is too long,” he rasped.

My eyes watered, and I told myself I would never let go. “You smell like home.”

I felt him crack a smile. “Would you believe me if I told you the same?”

I nodded and then held still, surrounded by pine and cloves, and for just once everything was right. The two of us in the middle of the courtyard, snow falling softly around us, lost to the rest of the world. I was content to stay that way for the rest of my life.

“Ah, and I see the prestigious lowborn has returned.”

I started to pull away, but Darren held tight and growled at his brother who had managed to make an appearance unnoticed.

“Not now, Blayne.”

“You don’t have to use such a surly tone, Darren, I was merely making an observation.” The crown prince’s gaze fell to me, and he wrinkled his nose. “Might I suggest a nice bath before greeting anyone from court.”

My cheeks burned as the heir to the kingdom sauntered away, a swing in his step.

“Don’t listen to him.” Darren’s tone was resigned. “Blayne is just worried about the Pythians’ arrival. Father has been… difficult.”

I shook my head and stepped out of his embrace. “You don’t need to explain.” Blayne and I shared a mutual dislike. The king’s temperament had no part in that.

I sighed. “Besides, Paige and I have been riding all day. I
should
probably get cleaned up before anyone else sees us.”

“Then let me take you to your chambers.” The non-heir caught my wrist and pulled me forward.

“What about Paige?” I glanced at my knight. She was trying to pick gray dog hair off her breeches with a sour expression. Wolf, seemingly oblivious to her reaction, continued to bark at her, demanding a playmate.

I stifled a smile.

“While you are on palace grounds, there is no need for a personal guard.” Darren led me to the castle doors. “She will be on rotation with the rest of the King’s Regiment.”

“Oh.” I followed him inside, and then froze as soon as I set foot on the marble. That’s how long it took to recall his words. “My…chambers?”

He gave me a crooked grin. “You have the room next to mine. The servants spent the last week preparing it. Once we are wed, it will be a sitting room, but until then it’s where you will stay during your time here. Your ladies-in-waiting have been…”

Darren rattled on, detailing the other changes that had taken place, but my thoughts had already been swept up by the first.

My own room.
With ladies-in-waiting—
my
ladies-in-waiting. I swallowed, suddenly nervous. I had managed to avoid most of the changes from my new status in Ferren. The capital was a different story. I knew the king wouldn’t let me run around in training breeches and a shirt unless I was in the practice courts.

What if they expected me to act like my new station? Highborn, well mannered, and fluent in whatever flowery tongue the nobility expected? I hadn’t the slightest idea how to act like a true lady of court. Ella did, but she wasn’t here to help guide me.

Not for the first time, I missed my best friend. Not just because she could tell me what to do. But so that she could hold my hand. We had gone through everything together.

For five years she had helped guide me through training and Darren and the etiquette of court; this time, I was on my own.

****

I couldn’t keep from gawking even after Darren had finished showing me to my new chambers. This was it. My own room. In the king’s palace. As the non-heir’s future wife.

Nothing would ever be the same.

Two ladies-in-waiting had already called upon some servants to draw a bath in the paneled wood tub of a small adjoining room. I almost died of delight when I stepped in and the water was still steeping hot. I stayed until the water ran cold, rubbing my skin raw, and then soaking in the lavender-scented bubbles a bit longer.

When I finally did step out freshly pressed linens were waiting.
Bliss
.

The nearest girl, Celine, a young thing with long, brown tresses, helped dress me in one of the many gowns the king had commissioned for my stay. As the other styled my hair, Celine was quick to note that my first responsibility would be to visit the palace seamstress the following morning. I was in need of a whole new wardrobe. The beautiful clothes I had wouldn’t begin to cover my appearances in court. Not of a princess-to-be. Even one who spent most of her time as a warrior mage.

I spent some more time taking in my surroundings: the flowery design adorning the walls, the delicate lace covering of a bed made of cherry wood, even the tiny nightstand with its golden vase of gently dried flowers—a bit of cheer in the midst of a white winter.

Like Darren’s, the cold marble floor of my chamber was covered in luxurious fur rugs, thick and dense and seeping in warmth. I had to keep myself from cooing as I touched my toes to the ground. It felt so nice after a two-week’s journey in nothing but soggy boots and on splintery inns’ wood.

It was paradise.

Like all wonderful things, however, the charm did not last. And for me that was the moment I stepped outside the door, bidding my ladies to their own devices, and saw who stood outside it.

“Now, that is much better. Who knew you were capable of such contradictions?”

I braced myself immediately. Blayne was leaning on the wall just outside my chamber, and his stance made it clear it wasn’t coincidence. “What do you want Blayne?”

“You, of course.”

Panic slammed my ribs, and the prince’s eyes narrowed in amusement. He laughed, a harsh, empty sound, and then continued.

“I wanted to
talk
to you, Ryiah. We’ve never had what one might call pleasant relations. I would like to start anew.”

I was instantly suspicious. “Why?” Not only had he gone out of his way to threaten me during my time as an apprentice, he had also tried to rape my best friend. Prince Blayne of Jerar, first in line to the throne, was the last person I would trust. I already knew exactly what kind of person he was, and I had no intentions of “starting anew.”

I was about to tell him as much, but a moment of clarity hit me. It would be reckless to alienate the heir, no matter how little I thought of him, and reckless was never a good move. Especially where Blayne was concerned.

Still, I doubted the prince would trust me if I acquiesced too easily. He knew we shared a mutual dislike. “Give me a reason I should believe a word you say.”

He considered my question.

“Because one day I’m going to be your king, Ryiah, and I will be the last person you want as an enemy.”

He didn’t even bother to veil the threat. Well. I could play along. I didn’t trust the heir’s offer for a second. But I couldn’t very well refuse.

“What do you say? Friends?” The boy held out his hand expectantly. It was pale. The pallor of a palace recluse. One who preferred darkness to light.

I made myself smile; praying the heir to the kingdom didn’t notice how my eyes didn’t match my words. “Of course.”

I didn’t know his end game, but there was one thing I knew for certain: whatever Blayne planned, it wasn’t good for me.

****

The heir to the kingdom escorted me to the king’s dining hall, the very same room that had changed my life during the ascension just six months before. Without the bustle of fifteen mages and the Council filling its seats the room was decidedly quieter. It was also more intimidating.

Now only the very end of the great table was set—enough for three persons. Two of the seats were already taken.

King Lucius sat at the end drinking from a heavy goblet of gold. His stark white hair pressed close to the skull and the trim of his mustache was barely more than a whisper, yet it framed the length of his hard face perfectly.

Our history told of kings that smiled and kings that conquered. He was the latter.

Darren sat at his father’s right. He had changed into a crimson jacket and brown breeches that seemed at odds with the bejeweled velvet and heavy robes of his father. He was busy pushing a piece of cooked rabbit back and forth across his plate. He didn’t notice when we entered.

Blayne wasted no time in taking the other chair. Then I was left standing, clutching my arms to keep from trembling as I waited for someone to tell me what to do. Did proper etiquette dictate I interrupt the king with a greeting, or simply stand and wait for him to acknowledge my presence first? I couldn’t remember. I had spent so little time in court, and that short week of lessons before I had left for Ferren’s Keep had slipped from my mind.