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Authors: Christopher Nuttall
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the Barony of Gold,” the newcomer said. There was almost no emotion in her voice at all. “I admire you greatly, Lady Emily.”
“Thank you,” Emily said, feeling her face heat. Heiress to the Barony? Baron Gold, the third most powerful nobleman in the kingdom, had been beheaded in the wake of the coup attempt, two years ago. Alicia had to be his daughter. “You’re not the baroness in your own right?”
“No, my lady,” Alicia said. “His Majesty has not yet seen fit to confirm me as baroness.”
Emily studied her for a long moment. King Randor had never liked the idea of a female heir — he’d spent years trying to have a son before giving up and accepting that Alassa would be his heir — and he might have denied Alicia the title for the same reason. Or he might have viewed her in the same light as her father, as a potential traitor. Keeping her powerless might be nothing more than self-defense.
But Alicia didn’t look very threatening.
You should know better than to judge by appearances , she reminded herself, savagely. Lin didn’t look very threatening either .
Alassa elbowed Emily, catching her attention. “Mother is apparently unwilling to attend the feast,” she said. “We will be talking to her later.”
Emily blinked. “Unwilling?”
“Apparently,” Alassa said. “Father says we will discuss it later.”
That was odd, Emily knew. It was rare, very rare, for aristocrats to show any signs of weakness. Lady Barb had been right; the slightest sign of weakness or carelessness would have people licking their lips and hiring assassins, or coming up with cunning plans to take advantage of the weakness. Queen Marlena would have attended a function on her deathbed, if she had to bring her deathbed with her. And now she was absent...
She cast a privacy ward hastily, then leaned forward. “Do you think they’ve had a row?”
“My parents wouldn’t have allowed a fight to get in the way of showing a united front,” Alassa said, scornfully. “That’s what worries me.”
Emily nodded, then dispelled the ward as the servants arrived, each one carrying a colossal plate of food. She felt her stomach clench at the plates of meat, roast potatoes and vegetables, strangely bland compared to the food at Whitehall. Behind them, other servants carried trays of condiments and jugs of gravy, each one strong and thick. She recalled one experiment with mustard she had no intention of repeating and wished, just for a moment, that she was close enough to Frieda to whisper a warning. But she’d never met anything her younger friend couldn’t eat.
She waited, with the others, until everyone was served, then started to eat. As she’d expected, the meat was bland, but the gravy was surprisingly tasty. Emily ate enough to satisfy the hunger pains, then looked around, studying the guests. Alicia ate with a daintiness that surprised Emily, picking at her food as little as possible. Perhaps she just wanted to keep her figure, Emily thought tartly, although she hadn’t seen many fat teenagers in the Nameless World. Beside her, Frieda seemed intent on cramming as much as she could into her mouth before the servants could take it away.
Her table manners need work , Emily thought, remembering how Alassa had taught her how to handle herself in a royal court. But she didn’t grow up learning the ropes from her parents .
Jade was chatting to the king, his words hidden behind a privacy ward. Emily wondered just what they were saying to one another, then looked for Lady Barb in the crowd. The combat sorceress was missing, she realized, after sweeping the tables twice. Maybe she’d gone to visit the queen.
“We will dance, after this,” Alassa said. “And then we will drink potions and sleep.”
Emily nodded. “Do you know what the meeting tomorrow is about?”
“I don’t, but it was put off so you could attend,” Alassa told her. “I suspect it’s probably important.”
“Yeah,” Emily agreed. If it
“Thank you,” Emily said, feeling her face heat. Heiress to the Barony? Baron Gold, the third most powerful nobleman in the kingdom, had been beheaded in the wake of the coup attempt, two years ago. Alicia had to be his daughter. “You’re not the baroness in your own right?”
“No, my lady,” Alicia said. “His Majesty has not yet seen fit to confirm me as baroness.”
Emily studied her for a long moment. King Randor had never liked the idea of a female heir — he’d spent years trying to have a son before giving up and accepting that Alassa would be his heir — and he might have denied Alicia the title for the same reason. Or he might have viewed her in the same light as her father, as a potential traitor. Keeping her powerless might be nothing more than self-defense.
But Alicia didn’t look very threatening.
You should know better than to judge by appearances , she reminded herself, savagely. Lin didn’t look very threatening either .
Alassa elbowed Emily, catching her attention. “Mother is apparently unwilling to attend the feast,” she said. “We will be talking to her later.”
Emily blinked. “Unwilling?”
“Apparently,” Alassa said. “Father says we will discuss it later.”
That was odd, Emily knew. It was rare, very rare, for aristocrats to show any signs of weakness. Lady Barb had been right; the slightest sign of weakness or carelessness would have people licking their lips and hiring assassins, or coming up with cunning plans to take advantage of the weakness. Queen Marlena would have attended a function on her deathbed, if she had to bring her deathbed with her. And now she was absent...
She cast a privacy ward hastily, then leaned forward. “Do you think they’ve had a row?”
“My parents wouldn’t have allowed a fight to get in the way of showing a united front,” Alassa said, scornfully. “That’s what worries me.”
Emily nodded, then dispelled the ward as the servants arrived, each one carrying a colossal plate of food. She felt her stomach clench at the plates of meat, roast potatoes and vegetables, strangely bland compared to the food at Whitehall. Behind them, other servants carried trays of condiments and jugs of gravy, each one strong and thick. She recalled one experiment with mustard she had no intention of repeating and wished, just for a moment, that she was close enough to Frieda to whisper a warning. But she’d never met anything her younger friend couldn’t eat.
She waited, with the others, until everyone was served, then started to eat. As she’d expected, the meat was bland, but the gravy was surprisingly tasty. Emily ate enough to satisfy the hunger pains, then looked around, studying the guests. Alicia ate with a daintiness that surprised Emily, picking at her food as little as possible. Perhaps she just wanted to keep her figure, Emily thought tartly, although she hadn’t seen many fat teenagers in the Nameless World. Beside her, Frieda seemed intent on cramming as much as she could into her mouth before the servants could take it away.
Her table manners need work , Emily thought, remembering how Alassa had taught her how to handle herself in a royal court. But she didn’t grow up learning the ropes from her parents .
Jade was chatting to the king, his words hidden behind a privacy ward. Emily wondered just what they were saying to one another, then looked for Lady Barb in the crowd. The combat sorceress was missing, she realized, after sweeping the tables twice. Maybe she’d gone to visit the queen.
“We will dance, after this,” Alassa said. “And then we will drink potions and sleep.”
Emily nodded. “Do you know what the meeting tomorrow is about?”
“I don’t, but it was put off so you could attend,” Alassa told her. “I suspect it’s probably important.”
“Yeah,” Emily agreed. If it