The Black Mage: Candidate (18 page)

The evening’s drills had been especially awkward. I knew Ian had told Lief our earlier conversation over dinner because when I arrived everyone had seemed especially uneasy. It was the quietest practice any of us had had.

Derrick waited until I had lowered the stump to the ground; my magic was still growing.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” He pointed to my arm as I withdrew the small, serrated blade. Master Byron had made us pain cast with a variety of weapons, but the knife was still my favorite for practice.

I held a cloth in place as Paige wrapped it around the top of my forearm. Sir Gavin expected us in top health at all times in the event of an attack, but I usually waited until the last possible minute to seek out a healer. I was determined to become as accustomed to pain as possible.

I rolled my shoulders. “Every bit hurts.”
But a high tolerance will give me an edge in battle.
I studied his anxious expression. “Why did you really come here, Derrick?”

“I overheard Ian at dinner while you were away.” His face grew serious. “Ryiah, it’s a mistake to withdraw from the rest of our unit.”

Not him too. I scowled at my brother. Derrick had
always
taken my side in everything. Hearing him turn away now was something I couldn’t take. Not willingly.

“Derrick.” Tears were stinging my eyes. “I tried. You saw how hard I was trying before I left. I even brought all that coin from the Crown. But now they want me to waste my time making friends? The same people who want nothing to do with me?”

“I’m sorry, Ry.” Derrick scuffed at the ground with his boot. “I just don’t want them thinking the Crown has changed you. You are so much more than your title, and I just want you to give them a chance to see it.”

“Who are the ones who are doing all of this ‘talk?’”

“The names aren’t important—”

“It was Jacob, wasn’t it?” As soon as I said it I knew I was right just from the look on his face. “You know, your friend has done nothing but scowl since the two of you arrived. I would hardly consider him an expert on human relations.”

Derrick bristled. “Jacob lost his mother to a Caltothian raid, Ry. And if you must know it wasn’t just him. Everyone thinks you prioritize your training over the good of the regiment.”

It took everything I had to keep my voice to an outraged whisper. “How is my training a
bad
thing? I am the best mage here –my power
helps
them!”

“We are supposed to be a unit, but you are looking out for yourself!” he countered. “Ry, the majority of our time is spent away from battle. One of the first things a soldier learns in the Cavalry is to get to know his comrades. Relationships are instrumental to trust—and you haven’t bothered to build up any since you arrived. You perform your duties and that’s it.” He lowered his voice. “The only people you ever bother to talk to are your friends in Combat or Paige—and forgive me for saying it, but she is just as isolated as yourself.”

Paige shot my brother a glare as I snapped, “People have far too much time on their hands if they are complaining I am not friendly enough.”

“It’s the reason Ray was promoted before you.” Derrick met my eyes. “The orders came straight from Sir Gavin himself.”

After… after all I’ve done for this place. Last year’s attack and the bandit raids and the Crown’s coin, and I’m the best mage in my unit and it still isn’t enough. Commander Nyx tells me over and over how impressed she is, but she lets my squad commander promote someone else. All because I don’t try to make friends with the people who talk behind my back.

For once, I didn’t speak. My lungs burned and months of frustration were fighting to break their way to the surface. I kept trying to swallow, and all I got were sharp, angry gasps that seemed to build with each breath. That moment you are so angry you could barely breathe? I felt betrayed. I was sick to my stomach, and all I could think was that everyone hated me and once again I was that insecure first-year trying to prove herself to the world.

Would it be enough? Would anything I did
ever
be enough?

My brother drew forward but I raised my hand.

“Ryiah—”

“Go, Derrick.” I exhaled slowly. “Just go.”

His shoulders slumped and my stomach hurt. I watched my brother retreat wondering if I should have let him stay. Derrick was only looking out for me. He always had my best interests at heart.

The problem was they weren’t mine; they were his. Derrick cared what this squad thought of me—I didn’t. My brother and Ian’s impassioned pleas only made me resent the others even more so than before. If Sir Gavin wanted to promote Ray before me then it would be the other squad’s loss when they needed more magic than the other Combat mage could handle.

“I will not apologize for my own birthright.”
More than ever I understood what Darren meant all those years ago. If people couldn’t accept me for me, then I was done trying to win their acceptance.

****

I could say the next two months flew by and that in time everything changed, but that would be a lie. Nothing changed. Nothing got better, and nothing got worse.

Well, my training continued. And my magic’s potential continued to grow. But my relations within the squad were as barren as before. Ian and I were on shaky terms after our talk, and while Derrick had stopped trying to talk to me about the others, I knew he still wished I would try. Lief was clearly oblivious to the tension between the two Combat mages he commanded, and Sir Gavin had yet to notice any difference at all.

Reports continued to come in surrounding the Crown’s negotiations with Pythus. It came as a giant relief when the king’s summons arrived a couple weeks after that. A compromise had been reached and a date was set for the wedding. In three weeks Blayne and Princess Wrendolyn of Pythus would be wed in the capital. I was to pack my things and return to the palace much sooner than anticipated.

I would not be returning.

“Following the ceremony, you will partake in the king’s annual progress to the Academy for first-year trials. From there, the progress will immediately proceed to Montfort for the Candidacy. Commander Nyx has been made aware of your discharge.”

I couldn’t say the summons wasn’t welcome.

“So, this is it then?” Ian barely looked up as I bid farewell to Lief and our new factionmate, Killian, an older Combat mage who had transferred in from one of the Red Desert regiments shortly after I arrived.

I shifted my satchel from one shoulder to the other. “It is. I’ll miss you all.”

“A shame the two of you couldn’t stay longer.” Lief’s eyes lingered on my guard, and then he strode forward to give me a parting clap on the shoulder. He stepped out of the way just as Derrick approached, a couple soldier friends trailing closely behind.

“Thought you could leave without saying goodbye to your little brother, did you?” Derrick pulled me in for a big hug. His tone was teasing, but I caught the grief in his eyes. I was sad too. I would miss him—my two brothers and parents were scattered across the realm in service, and I would be stuck in the capital.

Maybe I could convince them all to take up service closer to Devon? Give my parents an apartment in the palace? I would talk to the King’s Regiment after the wedding. Perhaps something could be arranged.

“Don’t you dare forget about me,” I warned.

One of the soldiers gave into a series of coughs.

Jacob drawled loud enough for me to hear, “Going to a palace, seems like she would be the one to forget about us, don’t it?” I bit down on my tongue to keep from retorting. Derrick shot his friend a disapproving look before wrapping me up for one final embrace. He stepped back with a lopsided grin. “I’m saving every bit of my purse for the Candidacy, Ry. You are going to make me a rich man, you hear?”

I laughed, a little too uncomfortable with our audience. “I’ll try but… perhaps you should rethink your strategy, Derrick, I—”

“Sir Gavin already granted me the leave.” He waved his hand. “I’ll see you in two months.”

I smiled. “That you will.”

My life was about to change. If only I had known how much.

Chapter Ten

My horse lost its shoe. Somewhere trudging along the muddy mountain trail the blasted iron got stuck in a patch of high grass and ever-so-fortunately it was two hours before I noticed the limp. It took Paige and me a good part of the day just to find a farrier in the next village we passed.

Then, as we were preparing to set out, a spring storm arrived.

Thanks to the thunder and lightning we were forced to take shelter for the night, and when we awoke the next day the storm was still raging. War charges were better trained than most, but neither Paige nor I trusted a horse not to spook at giant pellets of hail and great flashes of light.

Needless to say, when we finally finished up the last leg of our travel we were two days behind schedule. We sent word with a local envoy the moment the storms let up, and then that final day we rode all night—much to Paige’s distaste—just to reach the palace in time. The king’s summons had stated Prince Blayne’s wedding was to take place the following morning, and when we finally arrived at the palace gates we had barely an hour before the ceremony would start.

“Here to report the Lady Mage Ryiah—” Paige never got to finish.

A large, pompous woman I’d never met before shot out and grabbed my arm before the declaration was over. She hollered at my knight to attend to the horse as she dragged me down the palace walk, ducking through a side door for entry.

“You’re filthy!” she snapped. “Not to mention late. The king had me attending the gates all morning. Do you have any idea what today is? The palace is filled with every noble house in the country and here you are, the mud-streaked lowborn who is supposed to marry the crown prince’s brother? Do you have
any
idea what the Pythians would think if they spotted you? Why they might reconsider the wedding!”

“They’ve already met—”

“None of that sass! You have less than an hour to be presentable for the ceremony. In your state we will have to skip the herald’s announcement and rush you straight to the prince’s side.” The woman shoved me into my chambers and began shouting directions at my ladies-in-waiting.

From the way the girls scrambled to attend I took the woman to be Madame Pollina, the head of staff and, incidentally, Benny’s new wife. She’d been ill during my last trip to the palace, and I could see that had been a relief.

I barely squeaked out a greeting to Celine and Gemma before the woman had me stripped and tossed into an ice cold bath.

“It would have been hot,” she continued. “If you hadn’t decided to arrive two days late.”

I didn’t get a chance to reply. My head was dunked under the water, and then I was scrubbed and poked and prodded within an inch of my life. I barely got the chance to recognize the orange-scented oils before I was dried and shoved into a dress five times more elaborate than anything I had ever borne witness to. It was silken green layers, one after the other, with a gold corset and skintight sleeves edged in gold. Every inch seemed to shimmer in the light.

I barely had a chance to admire it. The bodice was so tight I could barely breathe, and I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t deliberately so.

Then came the matching stained slippers that were a size too small and the gold-and-green necklace, which hung heavily around my neck.

I was powdered and painted and my hair arranged in heavy curls at the back of my head, and then Madame Pollina dragged me out of the rooms and through the winding halls into the palace’s holy room. I gasped.

Every inch of the chamber was packed as full as the keep. Hundreds of bright colors pressed together as highborns fought for a closer place to the front. A steady clamor of voices streamed across the rows of seats. Sunlight seemed to catch across every stained glass window, and the effect was almost blinding.

At the very front stood King Lucius and Darren in splendid red and gold, and Duke Cassius in a striking blue, the two countries’ signature colors. Just beyond was the Council of Magic. The Crown’s advisors and the king’s most trusted families came next.

On the podium itself was a priest and Prince Blayne and a young girl with lovely blond locks—from the looks of it no more than fifteen. Princess Wrendolyn.

So young
, I realized.

Madame Pollina pushed and shoved her way through the crowd with me in tow. Then she threw me at the foot of the stage. I scrambled to the side, dodging Mage Marius’s amused eye as I stood beside Darren.

No one acknowledged my presence—all eyes were fixated on the priest, a small man with skin drawn tight across his face. He croaked on in countless blessings, praising the Crown and this couple for honoring the gods with their marriage and bringing a time of peace upon the land. The priest dipped his hand in a bowl of red wine and issued a prayer, blessing a pink stain across each forehead. Then the two completed their exchange of rings and vows.

The room erupted in cheers. Handfuls of flowers were tossed up into the air as the crown prince and his new wife made their way back. A herald proclaimed the beginning of a weeklong celebration of feasts, and the crowd began to disperse.

As everyone began to head to the grand ballroom I found myself nervously awaiting Darren’s notice. Prince Blayne and his princess had already left the podium, as well as King Lucius whose only greeting had been a deep scowl in my direction before he followed his first son’s procession.

What was Darren thinking?

I
didn’t know what to say after the way we had left things five months before. The two of us had let our tempers get the best of us and neither were blameless. As much as I still hated the things he had said, it was time to atone for the past.

“So...” The non-heir shifted stance so that he was facing me instead of the front. His tone made it clear he had known I was there the whole time. “You finally decided to grace Devon with your presence.”