Love's Labor's Won (11 page)

She smiled at the thought, and returned to her book. It was complex and engrossing, so enthralling that she barely noticed when the coach came to a halt and Lady Barb peered outside. A moment later, she leaned back and tapped Emily on the knee, making her look up.

“I think you’ll want to see this,” Lady Barb said, as she opened the door. “Come and look.”

Emily put the book to one side — Lady Aliya would do something unspeakable to her if the book got damaged — and clambered out of the coach. The cold air struck her at once, making her hastily cast a warming charm as she peered into the distance. Cockatrice Castle rose in front of her, near Cockatrice City...surrounded by tents. Hundreds of tents. Emily recalled the last Faire, near Lady Barb’s house; surely, she asked herself, it hadn’t been as big as this.

“It’s huge,” she said, in disbelief. “How big is it?”

“At least three times the size of the last one,” Lady Barb said. “I’d say you should be expecting hundreds of thousands of visitors. They’re probably planning to set up a few portals in the city, or perhaps closer to the Faire itself.”

“I didn’t realize it was going to be so large,” Emily stammered. “It...it just grew.”

Lady Barb gave her a reproving look. “That’s what happens when you leave the matter in someone else’s hands,” she said. “I just hope Bryon had the sense to organize a roving patrol of Mediators. Holding the Faire this close to a proper city means there will be no keeping the magicians apart from the mundanes.”

Emily shivered. Lady Barb had told her more than a few horror stories about previous gatherings, back when she’d been a full-time Mediator. They always ended with drunk — and sometimes not so drunk — magicians playing tricks on helpless mundanes. Sorting out the mess was never easy.

She looked at Lady Barb, who was watching her with a gimlet eye. “Can I count on you?”

“I should charge you a salary,” Lady Barb said, sardonically. She motioned Emily back into the carriage with one hand. “But I dare say I could stick around for a while, unless something pops up.”

Emily sat down in the carriage, again, as the driver cracked the whip. This time, she pulled back the curtain and watched as the Faire came closer. It wasn’t due to open for another week, she knew, but there were already thousands of people there, preparing their stalls for the grand opening. Last time, there had been potions, books and rare magical artefacts; this time, there would be all of that and more. Her eyes narrowed as she saw a set of iron rails, carefully embedded in the ground. A railway line?

Imaiqah said her father intended to show off a few things
, she recalled, as she felt a sinking sensation in her stomach.
What have I let myself in for
?

The coach drove around the city and up towards the castle. It was a squat brooding monstrosity, dominating the landscape around it by its sheer presence. The previous baron, a thoroughly unpleasant man, had bragged that his castle could never be taken by storm, but he hadn’t counted on being caught red-handed trying to overthrow the king. His execution had been pretty much a foregone conclusion. And now it was hers. Emily braced herself as the gates opened, feeling the thin edge of the wards pass over her as they acknowledged their mistress. Inside, only Bryon was waiting for her.

“I was expecting a crowd,” Lady Barb said, tartly.

“I asked him not to organize a greeting party,” Emily said. She packed her books in her bag, and placed it on the seat. “I always hated being greeted by everyone.”

She opened the door as soon as the coach came to a halt and jumped down to the stone courtyard. Bryon went down on one knee as soon as he saw her, lowering his head until he was looking at the ground. Emily sighed inwardly, and took a long moment to study him. He seemed to have grown up a little since they’d last met, but he was still terrifyingly thin, with short brown hair. Perhaps that was a good thing, Emily decided. He’d certainly had ample opportunity to eat himself sick while he’d been working for her.

“You may rise,” she said.

“My lady,” Bryon said. “I welcome you back to Cockatrice.”

Emily nodded. The castle — and all the surrounding lands — were hers, but she didn’t feel as if she owned them. It was strange and terrifying to realize that she effectively owned hundreds of thousands of people, people who would have no recourse if she went mad and started to abuse them. The previous baron had written so many laws that no one could live without breaking a few, giving him a ready-made excuse for killing or jailing anyone he didn’t like. Emily had repudiated most of the laws when she’d been granted the barony, but she knew there were still problems. How could there
not
be?

“I thank you,” Emily said. She turned and beckoned Frieda out of the coach. “This is Frieda, my friend. I trust you have prepared a room for her?”

“I have,” Bryon said. He bowed to Frieda, then straightened up. “Would you like to be shown to them now?”

“Yes, please,” Emily said. “We will need to sit down tomorrow and have a long talk.”

Bryon looked relieved. “Thank you, my lady,” he said. He nodded briefly to Lady Barb as she climbed out of the coach. “The servants will bring in your bags.”

“I’ll go down to the Faire and see who’s there,” Lady Barb muttered to Emily. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

Emily nodded, and allowed Bryon to lead her through the wooden doors and into the castle. It was not just her home, but the administrative center for the entire barony. Even so, it still surprised her to see so many people in the building, ranging from a handful of ceremonial guards to dozens of servants, maids and bureaucrats. The Scribes’ Guild might have had problems adapting to the brave new world, but many of the scribes had managed to master English letters and find themselves work. After all, just because someone
could
do their own records didn’t mean they
wanted
to do them.

The wards grew stronger as they walked up two flights of stone stairs into the level set aside for Emily and her personal guests. Emily made a mental note to work on them once she’d had a chat with Bryon, but stopped as Bryon opened a wooden door. Inside, there was a roaring fire, a bed easily large enough for four people and a large window, peering out over the growing Faire.

“Your room, Lady Frieda,” Bryon announced.

Frieda stared into the room, then at Emily. “This is for
me
?”

“As long as you want it,” Emily promised. As far as the castle was concerned, Frieda would always be an inhabitant. “Welcome home...”

She broke off as Frieda wrapped her arms around her and squeezed, tightly. Emily gasped for air before hugging the younger girl back. She understood, better than she cared to admit, what it was like to have a place of your own, somewhere where you
belonged
. Frieda might never have seen such luxury in her life, but it was hers now.

“My apartment is just down the corridor,” Emily said. She yawned, suddenly. The coach ride hadn’t been
bad
, but she wanted a long soak in a bath. “We’ll eat dinner later, once Lady Barb returns.”

She looked at Frieda. “Just be careful when you heat the bathwater,” she said. “You don’t want to scald yourself.”

“There’s only cold water on tap,” Bryon confirmed.

Emily hid her amusement. It had been hard enough explaining why she wanted running water in the first place, not when the castle kept a dozen servants gainfully employed ferrying water up to the higher levels. But, in the end, she’d got what she wanted.

“We’ll talk in the morning,” she said. “Until then, thank you.”

Bryon recognized it as a dismissal. He bowed, then retired, leaving them alone.

“Thank you,” Frieda said, again. “I...no one has ever done this for me.”

“It’s nothing,” Emily said. “I’ll key you into the wards properly tomorrow, but until then...”

She gave Frieda a gentler hug, then glanced at her watch. There would be an hour until dinner, then they could go to bed and rise early, with the sun. And then...she would have to have a long chat with Bryon. She needed to know what had been done in her name.

Chapter Nine

Someone was in her room.

E
MILY STIRRED, WOKEN BY A SENSE
she’d had beaten into her by Sergeant Miles. She’d rarely slept deeply, not since her mother had remarried; she’d always been nervous about someone coming into her room when she was asleep. It had been hard to share a room with two people — and then a dorm, at Mountaintop — and she’d welcomed the chance to sleep alone. But now, someone was in her room.

She braced herself, listening carefully. The newcomer was trying very hard to remain quiet, which set off alarm bells in her head. Two years ago, a maid had tried to assassinate Alassa — or Emily — in Alluvia, before the attempted coup. Gritting her teeth, she slipped her fingers out of the bedding and cast a spell. There was a flash of light; the sound of someone moving stopped abruptly.

Emily sat upright, conjuring a light globe into existence. A maid stood by the fire, frozen in place. Emily winced inwardly as she realized dawn was breaking over the mountaintops and the maid had been attempting to build up the fire. Feeling like a fool, she hastily cast the counter-spell. The maid jerked violently, dropped several pieces of wood to the floor, and spun around. Her eyes were wide with fear.

“My lady,” she said. “I...”

“I’m sorry,” Emily said. The maid was so young that Emily couldn’t help feeling like a bully, picking on a child who looked at least five years younger than her. It wasn’t uncommon for girls to go into service as soon as they entered their teens, she knew from bitter experience, but she’d never had a personal maid. “I didn’t know who you were.”

The maid hastily prostrated herself on the floor. “I am Janice, Daughter of Lanark,” she said. “I only meant to light the fire...”

“Get up,” Emily ordered, embarrassed. She didn’t
like
people bowing and scraping to her, let alone falling on the floor whenever she passed. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Janice said, as she rose. She kept her eyes downcast at all times. “I...”

“Don’t worry about it,” Emily said, firmly. She couldn’t help noticing that the maid wore a uniform that showed off her assets, a legacy from the previous baron. She’d have to have them changed, she resolved. He’d probably insisted his maids prostrate themselves too. “I need to rise soon, anyway.”

Emily watched as Janice hastily laid the fire with shaky hands, and felt another wave of bitter guilt. Janice had probably known her mistress was a magician, but there was a difference between knowing something and actually
believing
it. Now she would probably be scared of Emily, no matter what Emily said or did. She’d seen that reaction before, once or twice, during the walk through the Cairngorms. And if Hodge had had that reaction, it might have been a very different trip.

“Thank you, my lady,” Janice said, when she had lit the fire. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“I know,” Emily said, patiently. She didn’t blame Janice for being scared. A word from Emily could have her sent back to her family — or worse. In hindsight, she told herself again, she should have rejected the barony. “What is it like to work here?”

“I really couldn’t say, my lady,” Janice said.

Emily sighed, inwardly. She wouldn’t get a straight answer out of any of the staff, with the possible exception of Bryon. They knew better than to complain, even if their superiors were making their lives intolerable. It was no wonder, Emily knew, that so many of the former staff had decamped when Emily had taken over. They’d only been kept at the castle through threats and blackmail.

She watched the girl curtsey, then back out of the door, careful never to turn her back to Emily. Emily had to bite down the impulse to tell the maid that it hardly mattered if she did walk out the door properly, knowing it wouldn’t matter. The maid was probably old enough to have worked for Baron Holyoake, who would have taken sadistic delight in punishing each and every mistake. It would be a long time before they became comfortable with Emily instead...

And even if they did, they might recall a few royal brats and decide it would be better not to call attention to themselves
, Emily thought, as the door closed.
What would I do, if I was in such a place
?

Pushing the thought aside, she stood and walked into the bathroom, where an enormous bathtub waited for her. It wasn’t quite large enough to qualify as a small swimming pool, but it was certainly larger than anything she’d seen on Earth. She twisted the tap and watched as cold water cascaded into the tub, then carefully cast a warming spell. The water started to bubble furiously, but cooled as more water fell from the tap. Emily removed her nightgown, climbed into the tub and washed herself, hastily. It was tempting, very tempting, to just cast a spell to allow her to breathe underwater and just relax into the warm water. But she knew she couldn’t allow herself to relax.

She used a spell to wash her hair, climbed out of the tub and cast another spell to dry herself. A new dress waited her in the wardrobe; she pulled her underclothes on, then the dress itself. Red didn’t suit her as well as blue, she decided as she looked at herself in the mirror, but she couldn’t wear blue all the time. Alassa would have had a fit. Shaking her head, she cast a handful of spells to protect the room and walked out the door. She would need to have a word with Bryon about keeping the maids out of her room, even to light the fire. Some of the items she had brought from Whitehall were dangerous.

Or just seal the room with magic
, she reminded herself.
But I was too tired to think of it
.

“Emily,” Frieda called, as she stepped into the
small
dining room. It was larger than anywhere she’d eaten on Earth, even a fast food restaurant. There was a single table in the center of the room, with three places laid. “Did you sleep well?”

“As well as I ever do,” Emily said. She would definitely need to do something to make it up to Janice. “And yourself?”