Wedding Hells (Schooled in Magic Book 8) (33 page)

“Some people have far too much time on their hands,” Emily muttered. “How are you feeling?”

“Lord Hans asked me to dance again,” Frieda said. “He’s a good dancer.”

Emily frowned. “And you’re still not going anywhere with him alone?”

Frieda smiled. “If I was with him, how would I be alone?”

“He’s not trustworthy,” Emily said, feeling a sinking sensation in her stomach. “You must
not
be alone with him.”

She looked up as King Randor tapped for silence and then launched into a long speech welcoming yet another set of guests for the wedding. Imaiqah had said, in confidence, that dozens of guests had to stay at inns outside the castle, while others had found lodging in nearby manor houses and would be riding in for the wedding itself. Emily wasn’t sure how many guests had been invited - the number kept going up every time she checked - but she had no idea how so many guests could be accommodated, even for a relatively brief ceremony. Alassa’s march down the aisle was going to be watched by thousands of calculating eyes.

They could just be happy for her
, Emily thought, as Randor finished his speech.
She’s avoided the threat of one civil war and, if she has a child, she’ll ensure that the succession after her death won’t be disputed by her noblemen
.

She groaned inwardly as the servants started to serve the main course. This time, at least, they’d added chicken to the menu. It was a welcome change from roast beef, lamb or pork, although she would have preferred something a little more exotic. She ate without great enthusiasm - beside her, Frieda ate as though it was going out of fashion - and glanced towards Alassa, sitting demurely beside her father. It was so strange to see her sitting so placidly that Emily would have been worried, if she hadn’t known it was an act. She wondered, absently, if
King Randor
knew it was an act, then pushed the thought out of her mind. He certainly hadn’t told her off for playing rules lawyer with his instructions.

Alassa learned the lesson he wanted to teach
, she told herself, as she chewed a piece of roast chicken.
And that’s all that matters
.

She glanced down at the closest table and frowned. Lord Hans sat next to a handful of aristocratic youths, listening carefully to whatever they were saying. He hadn’t been invited on the pub crawl, as far as Emily knew, but from the way they were pointing at Jade from time to time she was sure they were discussing him. Lord Hans didn’t look very pleased with what they said, she noted. The thunderous look on his face was enough to make her reach for a killing spell and hold it at the ready.

You’re overreacting
, she told herself.
A simple freeze spell would be enough
.

The dinner, finally, came to an end. Emily allowed herself a moment of relief as the servants took away the plates and spoons, then pushed the lower tables against the wall as the musicians started to play. She cursed under her breath as Frieda headed down to meet with Lord Hans, then nodded politely to Caleb as he stood and held out a hand, inviting her to dance. If nothing else, they’d both be on the dance floor if Frieda ran into trouble.

King Randor is still here
, she thought, as Caleb led her forward.
Doesn’t he have people he wants to meet
?

She puzzled over it as they spun around the dance floor. Thankfully, the musicians didn’t seem to want to call specific dances. Instead, they played a series of random tunes with identical beats, allowing the dancers to follow their own steps. Emily would have relaxed into Caleb’s arms if she hadn’t been dividing her attention between Lord Hans and King Randor. The latter sat in his high-backed chair, receiving a steady stream of guests from the dance floor. She had a feeling that some of them were using the public audience as a way of bragging about their importance.

“You need to focus on me,” Caleb said, dryly. “You nearly stepped on my feet twice.”

“Sorry,” Emily said. “I’m just worried...”

“He won’t do anything to her in public,” Caleb said. “Worry about her when he takes her outside.”

“She’s my responsibility,” Emily said. “I...”

“She isn’t your sister,” Caleb said, “and she isn’t your daughter. She’ll object to you trying to rule her life.”

Emily blinked. “I brought her out of Mountaintop,” she objected. “I...”

“She isn’t your pet,” Caleb warned her. “Any more than my sisters are mine.”

“Did you try to boss them around when you were younger?” Emily asked. “Or did Casper?”

“Mother wouldn’t have let us,” Caleb said. “But I do have powers of observation.”

He smiled. “And if the asshole
does
try something, I’ll help you turn him into mincemeat.”

Emily nodded and forced herself to relax as the dances grew more complicated. Alassa and Jade glided around the dance floor under the king’s watchful eye - maybe he’d stayed so he could keep an eye on his daughter - while Imaiqah danced with a succession of young noblemen. Emily worried about her too, but Imaiqah
was
a twenty-year-old magician and a close personal friend of both the Crown Princess
and
the Baroness of Cockatrice. It was unlikely that any randy nobleman would dare try to hurt her when she could inflict horrendous punishment at will. And besides, Imaiqah needed a day off, just to relax.

The king shouldn’t have put everything in her hands
, she thought, sourly.
She needs a team of protocol experts just to sort out the seating arrangements.

She cursed under her breath as she realized why Randor had allowed Imaiqah to be chosen as Maid of Honor. If something went wrong, Imaiqah could be blamed without unpleasant repercussions. Indeed, as a newcomer to the court, her mistakes could be overlooked more easily than mistakes from someone like Alicia. Or
Emily
, for that matter. If Alassa
had
talked her into becoming Maid of Honor, Randor might have quietly vetoed the suggestion before it became public.

Caleb squeezed her hand, gently. “Lord Hans and Lady Frieda are heading into the corner,” he said. “I think Frieda is trying to get your attention.”

She turned. Frieda was looking at her - and holding Hans’ hand. Emily cursed under her breath and pulled Caleb off the dance floor, heading to the corner where the other two waited patiently. Frieda was smiling - at least he hadn’t tried to hurt her - while Hans was watching Emily with a neutral expression pasted on his face. His hand, at least, was nowhere near his sword.

“Lady Emily,” he said, politely. “Could I trouble you to accompany us to a private room?”

Emily felt her eyes narrow. The dining hall was
surrounded
by private rooms, where a handful of aristocrats could conduct business without fear of interruption. King Randor even had his servants provide drinks for the guests, knowing the guests would keep talking when the servants arrived. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to go
anywhere
private with Lord Hans, even if Caleb and Frieda accompanied her. She gritted her teeth, readied a handful of spells, then nodded. Lord Hans led her through a side door, down a long corridor and into a small chamber. It didn’t look particularly comfortable, but it was private. Too private.

“I have a proposition to put before you,” Lord Hans said. He let go of Frieda’s hand and settled down on one of the chairs. “My Lady Frieda informs me that you prefer blunt talk.”

“I do,” Emily said. She hadn’t missed the possessiveness in his words. Clearly, he had spent some time on the dance floor asking questions. “Speak your piece.”

Lord Hans looked up at her. “I have a right to the barony,” he said, flatly. “My cousin may believe she has the stronger claim, but...she isn’t quite stable. Nor is she married.”

“
You’re
not married,” Emily said. She wouldn’t dispute the suggestion that Lady Regina wasn’t stable. “Is there a point to this?”

“His Majesty will listen to you,” Lord Hans said. “If you spoke for me, I would inherit my rights.”

Your rights
, Emily thought. She had a horrible feeling she knew where this was going.
And what are you planning to offer me in exchange for my support?

“I will need to marry, as Baron,” Lord Hans said, answering the unspoken question. “If you support me, I would be honored to marry Lady Frieda.”

Frieda gasped.

Emily barely heard her. She had suspected as much, but hearing it put into words - blunt words - was still staggering. She knew that marriages among the nobility were arranged, she knew that few noblemen would cheerfully accept one of the mountainfolk for a bride, she knew that Hans was willing to do almost anything to secure his rights...and it was
still
a shock. And yet, the hell of it was that, by his lights, it was a fantastic offer. Frieda’s future would be assured; her children, assuming they had any, would inherit the barony after Hans died.

And inherit both baronies, if I don’t have children myself
, she thought.
But Hans doesn’t know that, does he?

She swallowed, hard. Frieda’s marriage wasn’t
her
choice and it would be hypocritical to suggest otherwise. But even so, Hans
had
to be desperate. A few dances were hardly the foundation for a lasting relationship. Hell, if Alassa got mocked behind her back for marrying a commoner, Hans would be mocked to his face...although, unless she was very wrong about him, the mocker probably wouldn’t live to regret it. And Frieda wasn’t exactly Emily’s sister, let alone her child. Hans was gambling without being entirely sure what cards he was playing.

But she couldn’t offer him her support. She just couldn’t.

“I’m sorry,” she said, unsure if she was addressing Hans or Frieda. There was no time to ask what Frieda felt about the whole affair. Had he even asked her to marry him? “I cannot give you my support.”

Hans’s face went very still. “I would be happy to agree to a long engagement,” he said, carefully. “She would have time to finish her education first.”

It took Emily a moment to understand what he meant. Traditionally, she’d learned from Alassa, noblewomen would spend months, if not years, exchanging letters before finally tying the knot. If, of course, they were given the choice. Hans might even expect Emily to order Frieda to marry him. She’d be exchanging letters with a man she
knew
she was going to marry.

“That isn’t the issue,” Emily said. She felt an odd flicker of sympathy, combined with the grim awareness that Hans would be a disaster as baron. Lady Regina had clearly been doing a better job building up support. “I don’t think you would make a good leader for your people.”

Hans’s face flashed with anger. “I would be a
strong
leader,” he snapped. “I’d give the rebels precisely what they deserve!”

He glared at Emily. “And
your
neglect is harming your people,” he added. “You need to supervise them constantly, not let them do whatever they want!”

Emily felt her temper flare. “My
neglect
seems to be better for them than your iron hand,” she said, sharply. The latest reports from Cockatrice had made it clear that her tax revenue had more than doubled over the last year, even though she’d done very little personally. “I think your people are sick of your rule.”

“My damnable
cousin
keeps undermining my position,” Hans snapped. His hand dropped to his sword. “When I am baron, she will be the first on the block!”

“Neither of you would make a good ruler,” Emily said. She braced herself, hoping that Hans wouldn’t lose control completely. “And this...this
stunt
to convince me to support you is a good example of
why
!”

Hans gathered himself, somehow. “I could offer Frieda the life of a baron’s wife...”

Emily looked at Frieda. “Is that what you want? Look how quickly he loses his temper when he doesn’t get his way.”

“I don’t know,” Frieda said. She hadn’t had any time to think about it. “I...”

Hans drew his sword. “You interfering...”

Emily froze him reflexively, then felt her body start to shake with shock. “Idiot! You utter idiot.”

“He would have tried to kill you,” Caleb said, in disbelief. “Was he expecting us to do
nothing
?”

“Who knows?” Emily asked.

She stared at Hans; strong, ruthless … and utterly helpless against magic. He’d probably had some problems coming to terms with the fact that a woman could oppose him, even if his cousin had a better claim to the barony. Maybe he’d honestly intended to marry Frieda, if Emily had agreed, or maybe he’d just hoped to get Emily to support him and then discard Frieda afterwards. He certainly didn’t seem like the kind of person who’d tolerate a common-born wife if he found her embarrassing.

“Go fetch Imaiqah, please,” she said, looking at Caleb. “And Jade, if you can draw him away from Alassa without making a scene.”

Caleb nodded and departed. Emily sighed and looked at Frieda. She needed a proper chat with her younger friend, but she didn’t dare talk in front of Hans. Frozen or not, he’d still be able to hear. At least the whole clash hadn’t taken place in public, she told herself. The king would be able to smooth it over without making a fuss, if he wished. Or simply declare Regina the winner by default.

Which would be just as bad a disaster for Swanhaven as Hans taking the reins,
she thought, morbidly.
Neither of them should be in charge of anything more important than a rowboat.

The door opened, revealing Caleb, Imaiqah and Jade. Jade marched up to Hans, tapped his forehead sharply and then turned to look at Emily.

“A neat piece of work,” he said, deadpan. “I couldn’t have done it better myself.”

“I’m sure you could have, if you wished,” Emily said, dryly. First Year students were taught the freeze spell. Frieda and her cohorts had even turned it into a game. “What do you want to do with him?”

“That rather depends on him,” Jade said. He cast a privacy ward, then waved his hand towards Hans and unfroze everything above the neck. “Lord Hans, I...”