She nodded vigorously. “Thanks to the good captain.”
“I didn’t know you were from the local village.” I could hear the hint of guilt in my voice. Ida had cared for my rooms all last year, and I knew almost nothing about her.
The realization sparked something inside my brain. The elusive thought that had tried to grab hold of me during my last meal with my family finally formed properly. I knew nothing about the Kallorwegian commonborns.
In all the briefings I had received from my aunt and her intelligencers on the state of the Kallorwegian court, the two different factions, and my potential year mates, I had never heard anything about the commonborns—sealed or unsealed. What did they think of their king, their queen, and their prince? Who did they support to hold the throne?
It should have occurred to me to ask when I was receiving the briefings. Commonborns might not sit on the Mage Council or have a direct say in the forming of laws, but I had seen that they wielded power of their own. After two decades of sealing, their merchant families had amassed enough wealth to ensure their voices mattered.
“Oh yes, Your Highness,” Ida said. “Born and raised. Zora prefers to work with locals when she can, and if there’s extra work to be done, she’ll take on anyone who can carry a pail and rag.”
I nodded, remembering the village elder’s words. It made sense that Ida would have grown up working at the Academy whenever there was extra help needed.
“And when the sealing first started,” she continued, “she handpicked those of us youngsters who were the hardest workers and put our names forward to the duke for one of the ceremonies. She said she needed a dependable workforce who could be trusted in the mages’ rooms.”
“I’m glad your village and the Academy were not forgotten, despite your distance from the capital,” I said.
“Oh no, Your Highness. The duke wouldn’t allow that.” A slightly flustered look came over her face, and she dropped into another curtsy.
I regarded her curiously. I was forcibly struck with the impression that Ida knew a great deal more about how things worked at the Academy than I did. But I could tell that openly questioning her would only cause distress. Instead, I tucked the matter away for further consideration. If my aunt didn’t know the opinions of the commonborns, then maybe it was up to me to find some answers for myself.
Chapter 7
Despite the temptation to request a tray in my room, I trudged down to the dining hall for the evening meal. Bryony waved enthusiastically to me from the long table second from the right. Apparently now we were second years we’d moved up in the dining hall. I walked toward her while letting my eyes roam over our previous table.
A number of trainees already sat there. Some chatted enthusiastically, clearly already familiar with each other, while others sat in near silence, looking everything from morose to terrified. But many of their eyes were focused on our table and two sandy heads in particular. I kept my face in a flat mask, but my interest in the first years instantly disappeared.
I had to pass the two princes to reach Bryony, and Jareth leaped to his feet at the sight of me, forcing me to a reluctant stop in front of them.
“Princess Verene!” He gave me an elegant half-bow. “It is an honor as always. I heard about the, ahem, excitement of your arrival, and I’m delighted to see you looking so well.”
I gave him the slightest curtsy I could manage, trying to decide what was more agonizing—talking to Jareth about my attack when I suspected him of having played a hand in it or talking to Jareth in front of a silent, icy Darius who was no doubt aware and disapproving of every suspicion in my mind.
“I’m glad to have safely arrived,” I said in a carefully neutral tone. “I greatly appreciated the assistance of Captain Vincent.”
“Ah yes.” Jareth smiled. “Vincent has always been an excellent guard, both vigilant and skilled. My grandfather wouldn’t have selected him for the role otherwise.”
“Your grandfather?” I gave him a sharper look, distracted from my discomfort. “General Haddon chose Captain Vincent? I had understood he was assigned here by the king.”
“Well, yes, he was in a way, I suppose,” Jareth said. “My father was the one to insist that if both his sons were attending the Academy, then a new captain was needed to ensure our safety. But my grandfather is the Head of the Royal Guard. He was the one best placed to make the actual selection.”
“That makes sense,” I said slowly.
“Grandfather chose Vincent?” Darius asked, showing interest in the conversation for the first time. “Why didn’t I know that?”
“Didn’t you?” Jareth looked at his brother in surprise. “I assumed you knew. I suppose I must have overheard Grandfather talking about it at some point.”
“So Father requested and later approved him, but Grandfather actually chose him…That changes things,” Darius said in an under voice.
For a brief moment, our eyes met, and I felt the same burning connection that had drawn me to him before the summer. I easily understood his unspoken message. Both sides of the Kallorwegian court had played a part in selecting the captain, which greatly increased the chances of his neutrality—and subsequent trustworthiness. But then Darius’s shutters slammed closed, his indifference returning as he turned his attention to his food without any direct acknowledgment of my presence.
I swallowed, ice chasing the rush of heat out of my body as I scrambled to recover my own mask. Jareth looked from me to Darius, frowning, but said nothing. I forced myself to give him a nod and then urged my feet to move, carrying me further down the table to my waiting friend.
With each step I took away from the brothers, my mind cleared a little. So Jareth had known more about Vincent and his assignment to the Academy than he had ever told Darius. My first instinctive desire was to discuss the significance of that with Darius. But even in the days when we had been open with each other and worked together, I had never been free to discuss my suspicions of Jareth. Darius would no doubt take Jareth’s assurance that he had thought Darius knew at face value and refuse to consider any other possibility.
“What did Jareth want?” Bryony asked quietly when I sank into a chair beside her. She glared down the table at the younger prince, as always far more open with her thoughts and opinions than I was ever free to be.
“To congratulate me on my escape, of course. Ugh.” I began filling my plate with food, not wanting to think about the prince and how he continued to fill me with such unease.
“So you still think he’s involved somehow?” Bryony asked. “And that attack was connected to all the ones last year.”
I shrugged. “It seems the most logical assumption. And there’s just something I don’t trust about Jareth.” I groaned. “Not that I could ever convince Darius of that.”
“It’s hard to be objective when it comes to family,” Bryony said.
“Don’t defend Darius.” I took a large bite. “I’m currently determined to be irritated by him.” Maybe if I could hold on to my irritation, my heart would stop hurting so much every time he looked at me with that distant, disinterested expression.