Love's Labor's Won (40 page)

She sighed inwardly, and started along the corridor to the stairs. A handful of maids and servants passed her, but there was no sign of any of the guests. Emily could pretend, just for a moment, that the Faire was already over. But the illusion shattered as soon as she passed a set of guest rooms and sensed the wards the occupants had erected to protect themselves. It was clear they didn’t trust Emily’s promise of safety.

But who could blame them
? She asked herself.
They all know that their rivals won’t hesitate to sneak in and out of their rooms if they have a chance.

She walked up the stairs and tapped on Frieda’s door. The door swung open, and Frieda practically threw herself into Emily’s arms. Emily hugged her tightly, half-carried her into the room, and closed the door behind her.

“I was so worried,” Frieda said. “You could have been killed!”

“I know,” Emily said. “What did he tell you?”

“That you were going to do something stupid, as always,” Frieda said, frowning. “I’m starting to think he doesn’t like you.”

Emily laughed, despite herself. “I’m starting to feel that way, too.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

“T
HE BLUE ROOM,” MELISSA SAID
. “Rather an...imaginative name, isn’t it?”

Emily shrugged as she rose and walked around the breakfast table. The Blue Room was blue, all blue. Even the cups and saucers were blue. And if she’d stayed with her normal color of dress, Emily knew,
she
would be blue too.

“I think the baron’s wife must have designed the room,” Emily said, finally. Personally, she found it rather creepy. “Or maybe someone who thought that a unified color scheme was the way to go.”

“Not a magician, then,” Melissa said.

“Probably not,” Emily agreed. She tried to imagine what it must have been like to be the baron’s wife, then gave up in disgust. “But please take a seat. Markus should be along in a few minutes.”

Melissa gave her a sharp look, then relaxed and sat down. “Why are you doing this?”

Emily shrugged. “Doing what?”

“Helping us,” Melissa said. “It isn’t like we’re
friends
.”

“Because...because it feels like the right thing to do,” Emily said, after a moment. She walked back around the table and sat down facing Melissa. “And because I can’t think of any other solution.”

Melissa looked at her for a long moment. “And you’re not planning an elaborate revenge?”

“No,” Emily said. “I think you have enough problems without me making things worse, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Melissa said, slowly. “If you hadn’t been there yesterday...”

“There would have been a fight,” Emily said. She wondered, suddenly, just how much she was missing by being forced to keep an eye on the problem children. Fatty had practically thanked her for keeping the two families under control. “What happened?”

“I wish I knew,” Melissa said. “The Matriarch was having me fitted for the wedding dress when we sensed the surges of magic. And then she yanked me out of the tent and ran towards the scene.”

“You’re meant to marry in four days,” Emily said, incredulously. “And you’re only having the dress made now?”

“There wasn’t time for a proper fitting while I was at Whitehall,” Melissa said, shrugging. “Besides, the Matriarch thought it would be better to purchase a dress here.”

She looked down at the table. “I think she wanted to make sure I got the right dress, from the right person, at the right time,” she added. “Someone probably owed her a favor and she meant to call it in. Or something.”

Emily frowned, unsure if she actually
believed
Melissa. Alassa hadn’t had much trouble having her dresses fitted, even at Whitehall, and there was no reason Melissa couldn’t do the same. Could no one at Ashworth House make or fit a dress? Or was there a political reason to have the dress made at the Faire? The Matriarch might see it as patronizing someone whose career she wished to assist.

And how long did it actually take to make a wedding dress, anyway?

“Tell me something,” Emily said. “What does your mother have to say about all this?”

Melissa glanced up. “My mother? My mother is powerless and has been so for years, ever since my father died. She’s only an Ashworth by marriage.”

Emily’s eyes narrowed. “She can’t refuse to marry you to Gaius?”

“It’s the Matriarch who has the right to choose,” Melissa said, bitterly. “My mother left
her
family after she married my father. If the Matriarch wanted to throw her out of the family, there isn’t anyone who could stop her.”

“I see,” Emily said. “Even you?”

Melissa shook her head.

Emily considered it. She could see how Melissa’s mother might be considered surplus to requirements, now her husband was dead, but it didn’t seem wise for Fulvia to mistreat her so openly.
Melissa
could not fail to take note of how her mother was treated...and
she
was the Heir to the Matriarch. How long would it be, Emily wondered absently, before Melissa saw fit to rebel?

But then, she already had. Fulvia would
not
be pleased when she found out about Markus.

And how much of your attraction to Markus
, Emily wondered,
stems from rebelling against your family
?

She rose as Markus entered the room. He looked tired, as if he hadn’t slept all night, but his eyes were bright. Emily had a private suspicion that his father had probably told him off quite sharply, once they returned to the castle, before ordering him to stay in his rooms until the following morning. Given the tension in the air, it had definitely been a wise move.

“Markus,” she said. “Please, take a seat.”

“Thank you,” Markus said. He sat next to Melissa, and smiled as Emily walked back to her chair. “And thank you for yesterday, too.”

“I meant to ask,” Emily said. “What happened?”

“Gaius and his mob of friends walked right into us,” Markus said. “It was quite deliberate.”

Emily met his eyes. “But why?”

“I don’t know,” Markus said. “He thinks he will be the next Patriarch. Maybe he feels he needs to prove himself.”

“He’s just an idiot,” Melissa said, tartly. “If he caused a major clash with outsiders, the family would disown him rather than let him drag everyone into the war.”

Emily eyed her, sharply. “Did you encourage him to cause trouble?”

“
No
,” Melissa snapped. “Don’t you think I have enough trouble of my own?”

“Yes,” Emily said. “I apologize.”

Janice appeared, carrying a menu and a small notebook. Emily had to smile at the concept of having menus inside her own home, but ordered scrambled eggs for herself. Markus and Melissa took it in stride, although
they
probably felt as though they were in a hotel. They both ordered large breakfasts, as if they expected to need the energy. Emily couldn’t help thinking they might be right.

“I meant to ask,” she said. “Why Gaius?”

Melissa blinked. “Why Gaius?”

“He’s been chosen to be your husband,” Emily said. “Why did the Matriarch choose him?”

“Because she hates me,” Melissa said. “She has always hated me.”

Markus scowled. “I think Gaius is biddable,” he said, slowly. “Maybe not for Melissa, but the Matriarch would find him a useful tool. He wasn’t raised to be an Ashworth, so he probably wouldn’t try to turn his position into something with real power. Merely being an Ashworth would be enough for him.”

“Then he can marry someone from one of the cadet branches,” Melissa hissed. There was nothing but raw hatred in her voice. “I will not be marrying him.”

“Then,” Emily asked, “what are you going to do?”

Melissa exchanged a long glance with her lover. “I don’t know,” she said. “What
can
I do?”

“Tell your family that you’re not going to marry him,” Emily said, ticking points off her fingers as she spoke. “Cut your ties to the family altogether if they persist. Run off together and live somewhere you won’t be recognized. Or...”

“I could challenge Gaius to a duel,” Markus interrupted. “If I kill him, it would be perfectly legal.”

Emily had to admit it was a tempting prospect. But there was one hitch. “And what if you lose?”

“That isn’t likely to happen,” Markus scoffed. “I was dueling champion for three years running. I don’t think Gaius ever did more than put up a reluctant fight.”

“I’m not so sure,” Emily said. “He might have learned more after leaving Mountaintop.”

Markus snorted. “Why would he?”

“To keep his real capabilities a secret,” Emily said. God knew she’d hidden enough of her own skills, even if most of them couldn’t be used as anything other than a last resort. “He could have had private training after leaving Mountaintop, or merely thrown every duel he fought in over the last few years.”

“That would be stupid,” Markus said. “Everyone knows that dueling champions are popular...”

With the girls
, Emily finished. She wasn’t sure if that was true of Whitehall, but she did know that the boys in Martial Magic or on the
Ken
teams did tend to get more attention from the girls than the boys who weren’t.
But if someone was more interested in hiding their skills than picking up girls, why would they bother to try to win
?

“Not everyone is interested in being popular,” she said, instead. “And wouldn’t he be required to protect Melissa as part of the wedding contract?”

“He would hire a champion,” Melissa said, disdainfully. “If, of course, he had the nerve to do even that.”

Emily shrugged. Lady Barb had taught her, several times, that there were advantages and disadvantages to having a reputation as a skilled fighter. On one hand, people were reluctant to cross you; on the other hand, people tended to view you as a threat. Not that it would matter to her, she reflected. She already had a terrifying reputation, one that was so exaggerated she didn’t recognize herself. It wasn’t as if she actually
could
walk on water or make necromancers shiver at her tread.

But you could walk on water with magic
, she thought.
You would just have to freeze it first — or adjust the surface tension
.

“If you did challenge him,” she said. “How could you do it in a way that would make him accept?”

Markus gave her a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“You’re talking about challenging him,” Emily said, “but he has the right to decline.”

“That’s simple enough,” Markus said. “You just issue a challenge he
cannot
decline. Or make him challenge you.”

Emily sighed, inwardly. “And don’t you think everyone will know it?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You could call him a...a rapist if you liked,” she said. “And he would have to accept, because otherwise people would wonder if the charge was actually true. But everyone watching would also think you insulted him in the hopes of having him issue a challenge.”

“Or he might just run,” Melissa said, vindictively. “That would be the best possible outcome.”

Emily sighed, again. She didn’t understand the dueling system at all. It seemed clear enough that the challenged could decline a challenge, but
failing
to accept a certain challenge could be just as bad as accepting it. The system was tailor-made for abuse, even with the quarrels and magical families keeping the balance and eliminating rogue duelers. Trial by combat had always been a stupid idea, if only because the guilty party could win and then silence his enemies.

“Or his quarrel might think you stepped over the line,” Emily said. “Or the Matriarch might see it as an outright attack on House Ashworth and retaliate in kind.”

Markus snorted. “So what do we do?”

“I think you need to make up your minds,” Emily said. “I...”

She broke off as the food arrived and they tucked in. Explaining the concept of scrambled eggs hadn’t been that hard, but sliced bread had been unknown in Zangaria before she’d introduced it. Making proper toast, as she saw it, was actually tricky, although the cooks enjoyed a level of skill and precision Professor Thande would have envied. But the results had definitely been worthwhile.

“You’re running out of time,” she said. “Are you going to talk to your families, run off together...or what?”

“
You
could talk to our families,” Melissa said. “I’m sure they would listen to you.”

Emily rather doubted it. Fulvia didn’t seem the type to be impressed by her reputation, while Marcellus would suspect she had deeper motives. And besides, Fulvia had too much tied into marrying Melissa to Gaius to surrender easily, even if Emily truly lived up to her fearsome reputation. She couldn’t hope to keep Melissa from having to face her great-grandmother, at least one final time.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “I think you have to make up your own minds — and fast.”

Markus swallowed. “My father would not be pleased,” he said, “but I think he would let me have my head.”

“I hope so,” Emily agreed. “But your brother is too young to take up the reins, if something happens to your father.”

“There are others,” Markus said. “I don’t think my father would hesitate to name someone from one of the cadet branches to take over, if I happened to go.”

Emily looked him in the eye. “Are you
willing
to go?”

“Yes,” Markus said, simply.

“It’s easier to consider running than facing my family,” Melissa admitted.

“You may not have a choice,” Emily said. “Your family — both families — could make your lives very difficult, if they chose.”

“I know,” Markus said. “But there are limits.”

Emily shrugged. Markus could find employment anywhere, given both his qualifications and his obvious skills. There was a shortage of trained combat sorcerers, according to Sergeant Miles; Master Grey or one of the others might be quite willing to take him on as an apprentice, even if he was in bad odor. But it wouldn’t be easy. People who would happily have loaned him money, knowing he was part of the Ashfall Family, would be reluctant to extend the cash if he was alone.