The Princess in the Tower (Schooled in Magic #15)

Jade had been right about her being expected to help with the cooking, although it wasn’t as bad as she had feared. The merchants ate at inns, when they could, and set up camp when they couldn’t. Their food was very basic, stews and bread rather than anything more elaborate; they caught animals and harvested plants from the local woodlands and cooked them over an open fire, seasoning the mix with a little salt or spice. Emily had learnt enough under Sergeant Miles and Lady Barb to help the older women, although she had to admit they were experts. They’d been doing it most of their lives.

The convoy rumbled along the roads, passing through towns and villages. Some of the villages were apparently deserted, the population staying firmly out of sight; the towns were inhabited, but clearly expecting trouble at any moment. The merchant guild had a string of private inns for its travelers, yet the convoy was nearly turned away from several towns despite their credentials. It was rare to see a military-aged man or a young girl on the streets. The former had been conscripted or were hiding from the recruiting sergeants, while the latter were vulnerable to the squads of soldiers and mercenaries making their way through the countryside. Emily couldn’t help thinking that society was steadily breaking down. The number of fields that appeared to have been abandoned, crops left to rot in the morning air, was terrifying. Famine was a very real possibility, whatever else happened.

“I heard that the king has gone mad,” Linder said, one evening. She was a young girl, a year or two younger than Emily, with strawberry-blonde hair and a strikingly sunny disposition. Her name was close enough to Lin for Emily to covertly probe her for magic, before deciding she was being silly. “And his daughter has already taken the crown.”

“I heard the king has locked up his daughter,” an older man said. He was kneeling beside the fire. “And that he already has someone else lined up to take the crown.”

“It can’t be his brother,” another man said. “The Duke of Iron is already mad.”

“The former Duke,” Jade said. “He was stripped of most of his titles after the coup.”

And the Duchy went to Alassa, Emily added, silently. Randor should have given it to his daughter years ago. Traditionally, it was where the Crown Prince learnt the ropes before taking the throne. But what’s happened to it now?

“It doesn’t matter to us,” the older man growled. “What matters is what gets in our way. A little girl on the throne is bad news.”

“A woman on the throne is bad news,” another man said. His wife elbowed him, hard. “See what I mean?”

“She’s hardly a little girl,” Jade said. Emily could hear the irritation in his tone and wondered if anyone else, apart from Cat, could hear it too. “She’s a grown woman.”

“I wouldn’t trust my daughter to handle a kingdom,” the older man said. “And even if she was smart and sensible, she would still have to handle the”–he spat–“nobles.”

“Aye, that’s true,” a woman agreed. “How many noblemen have started raising taxes over the last few months? It’s getting to the point where we can’t run convoys through their territory without ending up in the red.”

Emily listened as the conversation ranged back and forth, assessing everything from the latest set of rumors to what few scraps of truth had been passed up the chain. It shouldn’t have surprised her that the traveling merchants kept their ears to the ground just to see which regions were safe for convoys and which should be avoided at all costs. Their intelligence network was surprisingly good, under the circumstances, although it had its limits. They didn’t dare take anything for granted.

She lifted her eyebrows, concerned, as Jade stood and walked away from the fire. It wasn’t like him to stamp off, no matter how displeased. She looked at Cat, who looked as though he wanted to bite his lip, then rose herself. Jade hadn’t gone far. The woods seemed safe–the trees were nowhere near thick enough to hide a small army, unlike the forests near Whitehall–but only an idiot would go too far from the light. She didn’t have any trouble following him into a smaller clearing.

“They don’t respect her,” he said, as she stopped beside him. “Or anyone.”

“They don’t know her,” Emily pointed out. “To them, she’s just a name and a bundle of rumors.”

“They’re treating her as if she’s…as if she’s a whore,” Jade snarled. He kicked a stone across the clearing. “She’s their princess, not a monster.”

“They still don’t know her,” Emily said, trying to sound reassuring. Thankfully, one of the women had pointed out that the rumor about Alassa having a whole stable of lovers was obvious nonsense. A man could afford to tomcat around, if he wished, but a woman–even a princess–didn’t have anything like as much leeway. “They don’t even know who you are.”

“These are the people she’s meant to rule,” Jade pointed out. “And they hate her!”

Emily shrugged. “First, she isn’t ruling them yet, so they have no idea how she’s going to perform as their Queen. And second, they’re more concerned about policy–and her ability to affect policy–than they are with her personally. They’re not going to be concerned about who sits on the throne, Jade. They worry more about how that person will rule.”

“So they won’t rise up for her,” Jade muttered. He knelt down, resting his hands on his knees. “They won’t fight for her.”

“Not yet,” Emily said, with the private thought that it was unlikely that anyone would fight unless they saw a real chance at victory. A failed rebellion might be worse than not rebelling at all. “They need a reason to fight for her.”

Jade glowered up at her. “And they don’t already have one?”

“No,” Emily said. “And that’s something we’re going to have to change.”

They sat together for a long moment, lost in their thoughts, then rose and made their way back towards the wagons. The debating had turned to dancing, a handful of dancers whirling their way around the fire while the older merchants played a strange collection of instruments. Emily felt wistful, wondering–again–what her life would have been like if she’d grown up in such an environment. She was tempted to go back to Cat and see if he wanted to dance, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to let her hair down that far. Besides, she suspected someone should stay with Jade.

“Get some rest,” she ordered, as they reached the wagons. Jade really needed something to do, something to keep him from brooding, but very little came to mind. Hearing his wife talked about so rudely hadn’t been good for him. “I’ll be here if you need me.”

“Sleep in the wagon,” Jade reminded her, firmly. “I’ll be underneath.”

“Fine,” Emily said. Cat would sleep next to Jade, if he didn’t rest under the night sky. “I’ll be here in the morning.”

The following morning, Linder caught her attention as they washed in the nearby stream. “I was wondering,” she said. “That man…what sort of relationship do you have with him?”

Emily blinked. “Which one?”

“Jade,” Linder said. “Are the two of you lovers?”

“No,” Emily said, flatly. She had a nasty suspicion that she knew where this was going. “We’re just…fellow travelers.”

Linder looked pleased. Emily groaned, inwardly. Someone paying close attention to the three of them would know that they weren’t quite what they seemed to be. Linder might well have noticed that Jade and Emily–or Cat and Emily–didn’t act as though they were lovers, let alone husband and wife. They didn’t even orientate on one another when they were together. It wasn’t a pleasant thought. Someone older and wiser than Linder might also have realized they were lying.

“He’s handsome.” Linder looked as if she were dreaming, just for a second. “Do you think he’d be interested in sticking around?”

Emily stared at her in shock. Jade was handsome, she supposed; she’d been attracted to him too, once upon a time. And Linder didn’t even know Jade was married. He might seem a good catch, both for her and for her parents. A trained soldier, one who could teach others…perhaps even one who wouldn’t try to dominate Linder herself. Emily could see the advantages…

…But she also knew it was impossible.

Christopher Nuttall's books