London was like nothing Ada had ever dreamed. There were people everywhere, non-magical people bustling up and down streets, dark shades over their heads to protect from the rain. The buildings were very close together, and the roads were paved with cobblestones. There were no dirt paths here. And the smells —the smells of rotting fish and decay when they passed the wide river. The air felt sickly, here. Not for the first time since they’d left, she missed her home. And Christian. He hadn’t even said goodbye. Granted, she hadn’t given him the chance. She wished now that she had.
“Ada, darling, you’ve hardly said a word since we left Adlington. Do speak up. No one is going to court a mute.” Vivian was preening, fluffing her dark hair and pinching her cheeks.
“Mama, it is dark out, and we are the only ones in the carriage. No one can see your flush now.” She sighed.
Vivian threw her a harsh glare but said nothing. If she keeps pinching her cheeks, she’ll leave bruises. And won’t that be becoming? Perhaps it was exhaustion, but Ada couldn’t suppress a giggle. At Vivian’s scowl, she snapped her fan open and hid behind it. Charity, as always, sat demurely in her seat, watching them patiently. Ada’s other maid, Genevieve, and her mother’s two maids had traveled in the other carriage.
Her mother kept a townhouse in London just for the Season. It was much smaller than the manor at Adlington — tall and rectangular, and looked like every other townhome surrounding it. Ada sighed as she let the footman help her from the carriage. I leap from tree branches fifteen feet from the ground. I dove off the back of a running horse. I think I can handle climbing out of a carriage. But it didn’t matter. Here, she was not herself. Here she was merely the only daughter of a very wealthy nobleman. And daughters of very wealthy noblemen do not leap from trees or dive from horses and they certainly didn’t help themselves from carriages.
Ada was positive her corset was becoming tighter as the minutes wore on. She felt like she hadn’t drawn a full breath since that morning, and could barely breathe at all now.
“Do get some rest, Ada.” Vivian swept into the house, hands held just so as if she thought the entire city watched her walk through her own door. “We’ll start calling on my influential friends in the morning. By evening tomorrow, I am positive that invitations to all the Season’s events will be waiting for you.”
Ada glanced at Charity, hiding a yawn behind her hand. “How grand for me,” she murmured.
Charity giggled.
It was customary for servants to sleep in servants’ quarters, which were in the basement of the house. It was cold and damp there, and Ada refused to let Charity even think of it. “You may sleep with me. Where it’s warm and you can’t catch a chill. Tomorrow, I will speak to Mother about making that place more hospitable for everyone else.” She wrinkled her nose at the thought of any of their servants sleeping there.
“It just needs a fire in the hearth,” Charity said, but she didn’t argue when Ada snuck her up to her room.
It took both maids to free Ada from her many skirts, petticoats, and her blasted corset. Charity helped her into her nightgown while Genevieve undid the plaits in her hair. “I can brush it myself, thank you. Please, go rest.” Ada took the brush out of her exhausted maid’s hands and shooed her out the door. Sitting in front of the vanity, she brushed the long black and red curls, watching the firelight catch them. Turned just so, they looked like flames brought to life. Ada missed her magic. She missed her spells.
“I brought you something,” Charity whispered suddenly.
Ada looked at her in the mirror, raising a brow. “Oh?”
Charity scrambled over the bed to the trunks waiting by the window. Ada wondered, through her haze of exhaustion, when they had been brought up. She watched her friend dig through one, then two of the trunks, finally emerging with a satisfied smile and a mischievous glint in her silver eyes. In her arms she held a book.
An ancient book.
“Charity!” Ada gasped, nearly knocking over her stool as she hurried to Charity’s side. “When did you do this?”
Charity shrugged delicately. “In one of my meetings with your father. I thought you might like to practice.”
Ada raised wide eyes to her friend. During the horrors that Charity’s mind dare not even remember, she had somehow taken the time to steal a spell book to protect Ada? Impulsively, she reached across the book and hugged her dear friend. “I’d be lost without you.”
Charity smiled. “And I you. Now get off to bed. You’ve a long day tomorrow.”
Ada tried to sleep. Once the lights were turned down, she closed her eyes and begged for kind dreams. But all she could see was Christian, standing on the stairs as she pulled away. And poor Charity, in the bed next to Ada, tossing and crying out. “Please, Father, don’t be the cause of her nightmares.”
****
Christian had never particularly enjoyed being a groom, but he was grateful for the distraction it gave him now. Long before the sun was up, he found himself in the barn. He cleaned the stalls and pitched fresh hay. He brushed, curried, and combed the horses every single day, exercised them, fed them, watered them, and sometimes he stayed hours into the night talking to them.
Still, the pain didn’t lessen. He missed Ada so much every heartbeat hurt. The fact that she would come home betrothed to another man nearly killed him every time it passed through his head — which was often. She’d been gone a fortnight now. If what his mother told him was accurate, Ada would be meeting the queen any day. She would be officially introduced into Society, and then the offers of marriage would come. Even if Ada had only been a wealthy duke’s daughter, she’d be hounded. The fact that she was unusually stunning and the daughter of a very wealthy duke probably meant there would be duels fought over her hand.
His only hope was the fact that nobility and aristocrats were, as a rule, afraid of the Edrens. If they knew Ada was a sorceress, and a powerful one at that, they might be too frightened of her to consider marriage.
“Christian. I’ve been looking for you.”
Richard’s voice made Christian’s skin crawl, like a thousand beetles had taken up residence in his blood. “I don’t know how you’ve missed me. You hired me as a groom, and here I am caring for your horses day in and out.” The words were out of his mouth and he didn’t regret them. The duke could send him away. He could have him flogged. None of it would hurt as much as losing Ada.
Richard made a tsk sound with his tongue. “Put the pitchfork down, boy, and listen to me. I have a proposition for you.”
Christian slowly turned toward him, leaning on the pitchfork instead of releasing it as he’d been asked.
“It is common knowledge among the manor staff, and myself, that you have an interest in my daughter. Normally, that would be laughable.”
Christian cringed but said nothing.
“However, I’ve seen the spells you, a Carules, are capable of. Even your mother isn’t as powerful.”
And power is all that matters to you, isn’t it?
“Yes, it is.” Richard met his eyes with cold amusement as Christian fought to contain his shock. He hadn’t said that aloud. How had the duke heard him?
“There are spells that allow you to feed off the power of others, Christian. Spells that make you more powerful, and thus more desirable in this war-torn world we live in. I am the only one in the world who can create these spells, and I think they would benefit you greatly.” Richard leaned against the frame of the stall Christian was trapped in, but he was too stiff to appear casual. Too much nobility to lean.
“And why would you do this for me? What benefit is it to you?” Christian wanted to throw the pitchfork at him. He wanted to quit and storm away and take his mother and his sister with him. But Richard knew his weakness.
Ada.
“Because I can’t test them on myself. These spells… they must be done on someone else. And you, my boy, simply are not strong enough to do them on me, not until I test them on you. They will make you stronger than us all. So strong, you can have anyone in the world, including my daughter, if you still want her.”
Christian clenched his teeth against the anger that nearly overwhelmed him. “You have no idea how much your daughter is worth.” He didn’t realize the handle of the pitchfork was burning until the acrid smoke coated his tongue. He looked down, shocked to see the flames escaping from his hands.
“Have you always had such a temper, Christian?” Richard asked idly, raising one thin brow.
“No. I have not.” Not until you tortured me in your study.
Richard pushed away from the stall. “Well, think on it, if you must. It is a rare opportunity — one Edrens from around the world would fight for.” He turned crisply on his heel and left, his shoes clacking against the rocks strewn through the barn.
Christian watched him go. Swearing, he spun and hurled the pitchfork across the barn, watching in satisfaction as it pierced the wood in the wall across from him.
****
He fought it. For several days he fought it, knowing how dangerous and absolutely daft it was to agree. But in the end, he gave in, as he knew he would — as Richard no doubt expected he would. “I’m here,” he announced, striding into Richard’s study late one afternoon. Ada had been gone for over three weeks, and Christian was certain his heart was breaking into smaller pieces every single day.
Richard looked up, seemingly amused and annoyed all at once. “You know, most lowly grooms speak more respectfully to their employers. Especially when their employers are members of nobility.”
Christian only glared at him.
Richard shrugged, rising out of his chair and striding across the room to the bookshelves. “There’s no reason to put it off then. Let’s get started before your mother comes to make sure her baby isn’t being mistreated.”
Christian felt the fury he was becoming accustomed to racing through his blood, igniting the flames. He stifled it, but still the sparks licked at his clenched fists. “Is what you say true, then? If I become as powerful as you say I will, you will give your blessing if Ada chooses me?” he said boldly. What had he to lose?
“Yes, yes, of course.” Richard waved his hand vaguely through the air. “If you become as powerful as I suspect you can. But it will take work. No more running off after one session.” Richard turned, book in hand, to glare at him sternly.
Fear warred with the anger in his heart, and he swallowed hard. “I will do what it takes.”
“Excellent. Let’s get started.”
****
Christian awoke to see his mother leaning over him, tears staining her cheeks. “I’ve healed you as much as I can. Do you hurt terribly, my son?”
Christian forced himself to a sitting position. The flames seemed to be poison in his blood now, and their every movement hurt. “I heard your screams. I found you in the courtyard,” she said, her voice cracking as fresh tears cascaded down her cheeks. “We must leave this place. We must leave tonight. Are you able?”
“No, Mother. We cannot leave. Not yet.” Christian lay back down, wishing for ice in his veins instead of fire.
Scarlett cried harder. “What is this man doing to my children? And why are either of you allowing it?”
Christian reached blindly for her hand, wincing at the movement. “He will make us stronger, Mother. We will be strong enough that we will never be servants again. You will not have to work raising spoiled nobility while the lord and lady of the manor look down on us.”
Scarlett felt his head, her hands cool. “Christian, do you hear what you’re saying? You love Ada. I love Ada, like my own daughter.”
Christian shoved her hand away. “I don’t care!” he yelled, flames shooting from his fingertips. Scarlett watched him, unflinching.
“You are not my son. He has taken my son and replaced him with a demon.”
Christian felt his flames freeze, finally cooling his heat-exhausted skin. “I am your son. I’m sorry, Mother. I don’t know what came over me.”
She reached out a shaking hand, brushing tears from his cheek that he hadn’t realized he’d wept. “Please, Christian. We need to leave. We’ll travel to London, take Charity with us. We can go to America, start a new life.”
I’ll never see Ada again. But he had a brief moment of coherency, realizing that this pain, this agony was not worth it, not if it turned him into a monster she wouldn’t want anyway. “Yes, Mother. I’ll help you gather our things.” He pushed himself to his feet, but the room swayed dangerously and he fell, crashing to the floor.
The interesting thing, they soon realized, about the duke’s spell-induced injuries, is that Carules flames could not heal them. The physical wounds, yes. But whatever it was Richard did to their gift — Charity’s sight and Christian’s flames, no magic could touch. Scarlett worked tirelessly until Christian sent her to bed. He lay through the night, staring at the thatched roof above his head, terrified beyond belief. He wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse that he could not remember what Richard had done to him. By the way his entire body hurt, he knew it must have been painful, but beyond that, there was nothing. He now understood exactly what Charity had gone through.
The attack came before dawn. He awoke to screaming, high-pitched, skull-shattering screaming. And then the bell started tolling. He rolled to his feet, reaching for his shirt before he realized the overwhelming agony from the night before was gone. He didn’t understand it, but he was grateful, shrugging his shirt over his head and pulling it down.
The shoulders ripped.
He swore under his breath, but Scarlett was already running for the door, and he went after her. His fingers lit, the flames reaching hungrily, waiting for the spells. He could just see the assassins through the darkness, appearing like wraiths and slowly taking solid form. If his flames hadn’t been screaming for blood, he might have been afraid. There were at least ten of them, and from their hands he could see the Edren sparks. These were sorcerers coming for them.
But his flames were screaming for blood, and he lit up the darkness with his spell. Unbidden, the ginsti burned in front of him, but he twisted his wrist, just a bit, and shoved the spell forward. It hit the man leading the others, the man already reaching for Scarlett. Christian whirled out of the way as a spell flew at him, barely noticing the man he’d hit until he heard him wailing, and his cries didn’t stop.
Everyone seemed to pause — Christian and Scarlett, the duke’s guards who were assembling behind him, and the invaders themselves. They watched the man lie on the ground, writhing, clawing at his face, throat, and arms. His mouth foamed and his skin bubbled. “He’s burning,” Scarlett gasped. “He’s burning from inside.”
She turned wide, frightened eyes on Christian. “What did you do?”
Christian opened his mouth to respond, but what to say? He honestly had no idea how he had done it. “Mother, look out!” A spell hit her in the back, and she fell to the ground and lay still. “Mother!” The rage that had been boiling just below the surface for the last month and a half exploded and he ran at the invaders, spells erupting from his hands, one after another, cruel spells that left the men writhing on the ground instead of instantly killing them. He attacked them all, until there was nothing left but their screams in the air. He turned in a circle, looking for any new threats, but there were none. The duke’s guards backed away slowly, the rising sun showing clearly the fear on their faces. Christian read their terror and for several seconds, he basked in it. Until his gaze fell on his mother lying still in the dirt, and the anger froze, the power died, and he collapsed next to her. “Mother.” He put his hands to her wound, praying he wasn’t too late, and felt the comfort, the peace of his healing flames taking the place of the wild angry fire burning away at him. She had lost a lot of blood, but she still breathed, and he was able to heal her injuries.
Scarlett moaned and he pulled her head onto his lap. “Are they gone?”
Christian raised his eyes, looking around the courtyard. “Yes,” he said, because everyone was gone, even the guards. A lone figure strode toward them from the manor.
“That was quite impressive, Mr. Buttercroft.”
Christian felt the anger return, the aggressive spells fighting his healing ones. “You planned this, didn’t you? You called those assassins.”
Richard’s eyes lit with a cruel glow. “Now that would be madness, wouldn’t it?” With detached interest he studied the dead, still burning men lying on his road. “I’ll see you tomorrow, perhaps, for our next experiment?” Without another word, he turned on his heel and went back to the manor. Flames finally broke through the skin of some of the men, and enveloped their bodies in an inferno, leaving them as nothing but piles of ash.
“Christian, we have to leave this place,” Scarlett whispered.
Christian helped her to her feet, looping her arm over his shoulder. She had always been taller than him, but overnight he had grown so that her arm could not lie comfortably over his shoulder. He had to stoop to help her walk.
He did not respond.
She was silent even after they went into the cottage and he settled her in the armchair, wrapping a blanket across her lap. He made her tea and brought in warmed biscuits. “You won’t leave, will you? Not now,” she finally said.
Christian sat across from her. “Did you see what I did? What I was capable of?”
She looked down, studying the tea that threatened to slosh over the sides of her cup as her hand shook. “Yes, Christian. I did. And that’s what I’m afraid of.”
****
“Ada, honestly. You act like I’m sending you to the gallows, not to meet the queen. Every young woman gets this honor.” Vivian heaved one of her over-dramatic sighs — the kind that grated on Ada’s very last nerve.
“Not every young woman. Only the ones Society thinks are acceptable.” Ada fingered the elaborate stitching of her white dress. It was beautiful. Beyond beautiful, actually. And Charity had done an amazing job taming her wild curls into a delicate twist. But this wasn’t just a normal social outing, the kind Ada had been dragged to every spare chance over the last several weeks. This was Queen Anne, the monarch of all of England. What if the woman realized Ada’s own father was a traitor to the crown? What if she realized Ada herself was an Edren warrior and not fit for polite society? What if Ada fell down in front of all those people or her curtsy fell flat? Ada swallowed hard. Facing a field full of angry sorcerers was much less terrifying than facing the queen.
“Just think, after your introduction to the queen, we’ll go to a grand ball and all the callers that have visited this past fortnight will be begging for a spot on your dance card.” Vivian’s eyes practically danced with excitement.
Ada felt like she might pass out. Or vomit. “Why don’t we take this slowly? One day at a time. We’ll meet the queen today,” she smoothed an imaginary wrinkle in the beautiful white dress, “and tomorrow… or next week, we can go to a grand ball.” She nodded enthusiastically, hoping her mother would agree.
“Don’t be silly, Ada. The ball tonight is to celebrate meeting Queen Anne and your introduction to Society. Come now, the carriages are arriving.”
Ada turned wild, panicked eyes to Charity, who stood near the windows, watching proudly.
“You will do wonderfully, Ada,” her friend said, clearly missing Ada’s silent plea for help.
Ada opened her mouth, but she could produce no words. Wonderful. Fear had rendered her mute. The queen would be very impressed by her lack of social skills.
“Ada, now, please.” Vivian picked up her skirts, deliberately sweeping them outward as she sauntered from the room and down the stairs.
“Charity, help me. I cannot do this,” Ada whispered fiercely — rushing across the room, secretly thrilled by the rustle of her silk skirts — and embraced Charity.
Charity giggled quietly, wrapping her thin arms around Ada’s shaking shoulders. “You will do magnificently. The queen will love you — everyone will love you. They will not be able to look elsewhere.”
Ada pulled back, stifling a screech with a fist to her mouth. Charity raised an eyebrow, fighting a smile.
Lowering her fist, Ada whimpered. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Ada! Now!” Vivian bellowed.
Charity lost her battle fighting the smile, and a grin broke across her pale face. “One would almost think she’s a lady, until she opens her mouth.”
With one last hug, she turned Ada gently and pushed her from the room. “I will be right here, eagerly awaiting your return so you can tell me everything.”
Ada paused in the threshold, turning and grabbing Charity’s wrist. “Come with me. We’ll introduce you as well. We can be sisters! No one will know.”
Charity chuckled, prying Ada’s fingers one by one from her arm. “This is one experience I do not want to share with you, dear friend.”
Ada whimpered one last time before grabbing up her skirts and racing down the stairs. The staff stood silently as she hurried past them, but she felt their eyes on her. “Oh, Heaven help me.”
As with everything in London, meeting the queen was not at all like Ada had expected. In a large banquet room, an astounding number of girls in beautiful white gowns waiting anxiously, slowly forming into a line that led out the door and disappeared down the hall. Like sheep being herded. There were also throngs of others come to observe. “All these people will watch me?” Ada asked Vivian, speaking just loud enough that her mother could hear her over the din.
Vivian didn’t look at Ada as she answered, her attention caught up with the people all around them. “No. When you get to the throne room, the doors will shut behind us. I will stay in the threshold and it will be only you and the queen. “ Suddenly Vivian’s light brown eyes snapped to Ada’s face with a stern glare, “And her Edren guards, of which you are to take no notice.”
Ada nodded, and Vivian went back to people-watching. Eventually her mother found herself bored of Ada’s silent company and went to mingle, leaving Ada alone to stand for hours in a line that she wished would never move forward. It did, however, and every minute or so she would take another step closer to the door at the end of the hall. When there were only three girls in front of her, Ada looked for her mother, but Vivian was nowhere to be seen, and Ada faced the gigantic doors alone. And then they swung open and she was ushered in. She heard her name announced, “Ada Aleshire, daughter of Richard Aleshire, Duke of Adlington,” and she picked her skirts up with her forefinger and her thumb, just as she’d been taught. She held her head high and floated into the room, down the never-ending carpet to the throne. There was a small army of guards standing along the sides of the queen, and Ada wondered if they could feel her Edren blood like she could feel theirs. I’m not a sorceress. I’m not a sorceress. Just thinking it felt traitorous.
She nearly walked too close to the queen, catching herself at the last second when she saw the barest hint of a spark at the fingers of the Edren closest to her. She fell into a deep curtsy. “Your Majesty,” she murmured, averting her eyes.
“Welcome to London, my dear,” Queen Anne said, in falsely courteous tones.
Ada rose, nodding politely. The queen returned her nod and Ada, resisting the urge to grab up her skirts and run, turned slowly, allowing the long train of her dress to sweep around her, and walked from the room.
Vivian did not wait at the other side of the doors. But another familiar face greeted her. “Lady Charnock,” Ada said in surprise. Suddenly her knees felt weak and her vision blotched in front of her.
“My dear, you are remarkably pale. Sit down before you collapse.”
“I—I—” Ada stuttered.
“William!” Lady Charnock called. Ada could just see him slicing through the crowd. Taking her elbow, he led her to a chaise lounge in a quieter hallway.
“Thank you,” Ada whispered.
He sat down next to her. “You rush into battle and face down dozens of men, all bigger than you, without a thought, but meeting the queen makes you swoon?” Ada could hear the amusement in his voice and if it had been socially acceptable, she would have smacked him.
“Trust me. This is much, much more terrifying.”
Lady Charnock pressed a glass of something Ada worried might be champagne into her hand. But it was cool, and Ada desperately needed cool. She raised it to her lips, silently crying when she realized that, yes, it was indeed champagne. She tried to swallow without making a face.
“Thank you,” she choked. She had never liked champagne, and she didn’t see that changing any time soon. She would never understand how people drank it willingly.
“Where is your chaperone?” William’s mother asked.
Ada sighed. “That, Lady Charnock, is a very good question indeed. I believe my mother forgot who she was accompanying here.”
“I will find her for you.” William rose and Ada tipped her head back to watch him. When not compared to Christian, he was very handsome.
“How will you know it’s her?” she asked, grateful that the splotches in her vision were fading.
“I will look for someone with the same beautifully unusual hair that you have.”
Ada felt her cheeks flush scarlet, and she fanned her face. “She has brown hair. No one knows where my black and red hair comes from. We look nothing alike.”
“Well then…” William looked around them as if Vivian would pop out of the nearest suit of armor. “I will look for someone blatantly ignoring her daughter on such an important day.”
Ada smiled. “If I may borrow your arm, I will help you look for her. With my eyes and your strength, we’re sure to find her eventually.”
William gallantly lent her his arm. “Are you going to the celebration ball this evening?” he asked as they negotiated their way through the crowd.
Ada could feel his pulse leap under her fingers and she hid a smile. “I believe I’m being coerced into going, yes.”
As he was much taller than she, he was able to look over the heads of the crowd, whereas she couldn’t even see around the man in front of her. “It’s a shame we can’t exchange heights,” she muttered.
He smiled down at her. “Perhaps if you describe her for me?”
Ada frowned, thinking. “She’s got light brown hair, a touch darker than yours, and light brown eyes. She’s about my height.” Ada’s eyes lit up, “Oh! And she’s wearing a bright blue gown with a large white bow.”
William’s eyes scanned the room. “Will you save me a space on your dance card?” he asked suddenly.
Ada’s jaw dropped. “Even knowing — knowing what I am?” she asked, leaning closer to him and whispering just loudly enough that only he could hear her.
His lips quirked in that ever-present smile of his. “Yes, even knowing what you are.”
She gaped at him, trying to form words that wouldn’t come. Somewhere nearby, a shrill laugh, like the whinny of a horse, made them both jump. Ada cringed. “Ah. That would be my mother.”
William fought his way through the crowd to find Vivian with a group of women. “Ada! Why aren’t you in line? We’ll be late for the ball at this rate!” Vivian exclaimed. Ada had the sudden urge to attack her with her father’s new favorite spell, but she refrained.
“Actually, Miss Aleshire has already met the queen and did so beautifully. You should be very proud,” William said.
For the first time, Vivian noticed the man whose arm Ada leaned on. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.” She extended a slim, gloved hand while her eyes raked William like a steer for sale.
“William Langley, son of the Earl of Charnock, Your Grace.” William bent low before briefly kissing and then releasing her hand.
“Why, we’re practically neighbors! What a shame we’ve never met before now.” Vivian clucked her tongue.
“Everyone is leaving to freshen up before the ball, Mother. I suggest we also go,” Ada said. The women behind Vivian all exchanged knowing glances. She’s been complaining about me again, Ada thought tiredly. Her mother glanced around the room, which was indeed emptying rather quickly. Lady Charnock waited, watching them warily. Don’t worry about my mother, Ada wanted to tell her, she’s not powerful enough to light a candle.
William followed Ada’s gaze and nodded. Taking Ada’s hand on his arm with gentle fingers, he raised it to his lips. “Do not forget to save me a spot on your dance card, Lady Aleshire.”
“I will not forget, Mr. Langley.” Warm shivers raced up her spine at the look in his eyes before he smiled and released her hand. Turning away, he went to retrieve his mother, and disappeared through the door.
“It seems you may have a suitor already, Miss Aleshire,” one of her mother’s friends said.
Ada flushed and forced a smile, but could not think of a thing to say that would meet her mother’s approval, so she remained silent.
The women seemed to not be in a hurry to leave at all, and Ada wandered the room, admiring the royal tapestries and artwork. She had strolled into a smaller, darker hallway when she caught sight of a light glow in her peripheral vision. Turning quickly, she nearly tripped over her train in surprise. “Charity! What are you doing here?” Charity’s eyes were glowing. With a sinking heart, Ada realized she was in the middle of a vision, and Governess Buttercroft wasn’t here to help her out of it. Ada hurried down the hall to the shadows where Charity waited impatiently, practically bouncing from one foot to the other. By now, the halls and sitting room were practically empty.
“There’s to be an attack on the queen, Ada. Any minute now! You must stop it!”
Ada froze. “An attack? But there are so many guards—”
Charity shook her head vehemently, cutting Ada off. “The guards have been distracted by the threat of a larger battle outside. Her personal guards are not powerful enough for the assassins. By the time the rest respond, Ada, they will be too late and not enough. You must save the queen!”
Ada had one brief moment of doubt — could Charity’s visions be trusted? Was she in her right mind? If Ada went racing into the throne room, it would ruin her socially, not to mention that the queen would probably think it an assassination attempt and have Ada beheaded.
But it was a chance Ada had to take. She hitched up her skirts and turned to run. “Not there, Ada! She’s upstairs, in the royal library!”
As Ada raced away, she felt a sharp pain in her head, much like her skull was splitting. And then Charity’s voice, “There are three French Edren assassins. They move in the shadows.”
Ada sprinted through the palace. Where were all the guards? All the Edren sorcerers she’d seen earlier? They couldn’t have all left to fight, could they? The hallways she ran through were like a tomb. And then she felt it — the pull of the battle, calling to the flames in her blood. The battle must already have begun, although how that could have happened without alerting all those still lingering to meet the queen was beyond her. She’d never understand royal movements, nor did she possess the desire to.
She turned down two wrong hallways before coming to a giant stained glass window overlooking the expansive royal gardens — and the battle. Bright red flames lit up the darkening evening sky as royal guards fought off the invaders. But the queen would still have her personal guards, wouldn’t she?
Sharp pain exploded through her head again, and then Charity’s voice, “Her guards are dead, Ada. Hurry!”
Ada shrieked, dropping her hands from where they clutched at her skull. She grabbed up her skirts again and whirled, tearing the magnificent train. She swore under her breath and raced away from the battle, the pull of which was so strong she thought half her soul was staying behind to fight it.
Another wrong hallway and then she finally found the grand staircase, which normally would have been blocked by many guards. But there was no one now, and she leaped up the stairs two at a time, tripping once over her blasted skirts before she reached the first landing. She had no idea where the royal library was, and got herself lost and confused several times before she remembered Harrison’s advice from that first battle. Let go. Let your magic lead you.
Swallowing hard, she stopped running and closed her eyes, trying to listen to the magic. Her governess had never told her about this. Her father certainly didn’t seem to know about it. Perhaps it was one of the dying spells Harrison and Davis had mentioned. She felt the flames humming, pulling… in two different directions. And she knew what was behind her.
Her eyes flew open. She grabbed up her skirts once again, and ran.
She found her way to the library, bursting in through a second story doorway that led not to the library itself, but a balcony of sorts running all the way around the room. She could see down, but she couldn’t get down. From her vantage point, she realized at once why the queen had sought refuge here. There were multiple entrances, and the room was labyrinth, with so many places to hide, one might never be found. Her guards, however, had been found and lay, burned and dying, in the aisles. Ada raced around the balcony, her eyes on the floor below her, but she could see no assassins. And no queen, either. She had made it halfway around the incredibly large room and was thinking of leaving, trying a different room, or maybe that there was another library, when she remembered Charity’s voice. They hide in the shadows. She didn’t know what that meant, exactly, but she was tired of doubting and second guessing herself and Charity. Closing her eyes once again, she listened to the pull of her flames.
Directly below her. Of course. She could find a ladder, but by the time she did that and made her way down said ladder, in a ball gown, the queen would be dead and the assassins would be waiting to kill her as well. Biting her lip, she cursed again her fear of heights.
And threw herself over the banister.
Her billowy skirts flew up and wrapped around her, blinding her and, she was sure, showing a fair amount of skin. The queen, if she was still alive, would certainly renounce her welcome into polite society. Ada landed, taking a knee and shoving the skirts away from her face. The assassins were indeed hiding in the shadows, but they had been inching out and toward the queen, who now stood at Ada’s back. Ada rose, facing them — three there were, as Charity had said. She was the only thing standing between them and the Queen of England.
“What are you going to do against three Edren warriors, little girl?” One of the men laughed, his French accent so thick she could barely understand him. He threw a quick, easy spell, and Ada stepped silently out of the way. The spell blasted past her and slammed into the wall, igniting the wood paneling. Ada glanced over her shoulder. The queen stood in an alcove, hidden from above and from both sides. The only way one could see her was from directly in front of her, but still the assassins had found her. The regal woman yanked the curtains hard and beat at the flames and had the situation not been so tense, Ada would have been impressed.
But being impressed would have to wait. “Did you see all her guards? Dead. All of them. What is it a little thing like you in a party dress thinks she can do to us?”
Ada said nothing. Slowly, she raised her hand. They were amused and unafraid. That worked well for her. One by one, she let the sparks light at her fingertips. They raised their eyebrows simultaneously, which could almost have been amusing, except that they were all still grinning like idiots. She let her hand shake as she traced the spell, which wasn’t hard, since the Queen of England stood behind her and had the power to ruin her entire family socially. Ada wasn’t daft enough to think that saving the woman’s life would make up for pretending to be a socialite and nothing more. The unspoken rule seemed to be that it was fine and well for a man to be a powerful Edren sorcerer, but not her. Not any girl.
The rule annoyed her.
Being annoyed added fire to her spell, and it flared briefly before she brought it under control. Only one man seemed to notice, and he took a cautious step back, watching her much more closely than he had before.
“Those guards you fought before were powerful.” She traced another spell, one they wouldn’t recognize, and let it burn in the air next to the first half-finished spell. The two smoldered next to each other; almost pretty in the dim light. “I would guess they’re probably the highest trained Edren sorcerers in all the land.” She dropped her hand, looking at them, feeling a feverish blush stain her neck and cheeks, one born not of embarrassment but of the excitement of a battle she knew she would win. “I am not trained by anyone but my governess and my father. And I am small.” She nodded in agreement with herself. “But there is no one like me in the world.” With both hands, she lit up the spells and shoved them hard, watching in wicked satisfaction as they shot across the space separating her from the queen’s attackers. It hit two of them before they even had a chance to raise their spark-riddled fingers. One died immediately — liriks do not wait to kill unless the caster isn’t very powerful. The other spell had been something new, sinking into the man’s skin and burning slowly, but he was powerless to put out the flames. His screams reverberated through the library, shaking the books on the shelves. The third man turned to run, but Ada moved quickly, shoving wards up to block him in. Having him effectively trapped, she turned slowly to face the queen.
Queen Anne’s face was pale, and she shook slightly. Ada, not knowing what else to do, dipped into a curtsy.
The queen laughed.
Ada raised her face. That wasn’t what she’d been expecting.
“Rise, dear girl. Oh, do rise.”
Ada rose uncertainly, tottering a bit now that the adrenaline had worn off. She was exhausted, and her legs trembled beneath her. Her beautiful white dress was torn, slightly singed, and filthy, and she’d lost one slipper in her race through the palace. Her hair was a tangled mess of knots and curls. And she stood facing the monarch of her country. My father is a traitor.
But I am not.
“That was very brave. I owe you my gratitude.” The queen nodded once, slowly, a brief smile lighting her usually somber features.
“There is still a battle raging, Your Majesty. I can help—”
“No, my guards can handle the smoke and mirrors outside. These three were unusual. I’ve never seen movements so fast. Until you.” Again, the barest hint of a smile. “But if you go outside and fight among my guards, there will be no saving your social status. Go, now, and I will share your secret with no one.”
Ada fought to keep her jaw from dropping. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” She dipped into another curtsy. Before the queen could change her mind, Ada whirled and raced from the library. Good luck getting that assassin out of my wards, she thought belatedly.
Charity waited at the base of the stairs. “You are a mess,” she said, wrinkling her nose.
“Yes, well, one was not meant to battle in a ball gown. My mother?”
“Looking everywhere for you. I’ve kept her from seeing the battle in the gardens, but she will be very angry when she sees your dress.”
Vivian’s shrill shriek split the air at just that moment, and Ada cringed. “What have you done?” she bellowed.
“There was a fist fight. Over — over spots on my dance card. I got caught in the middle.” Ada tried to look horrified, but trying to hide the euphoria from her fight was difficult
Vivian didn’t notice. Her entire face lit up. “A fist fight! Over your dance card?” She clapped her hands before grabbing Ada’s shoulders and steering her toward the entry hall and the wide front doors. “We must get you out of the public eye before anyone sees you like this.”
****
As Vivian had so excitedly predicted, Ada’s dance card was full, except for one spot, which she kept open, just in case. She’d seen no sign of William, but her traitorous heart kept hoping. She danced until her feet ached and she carried on so many polite conversations that her head threatened to explode. She had just fled to the punch table when he arrived at her elbow. “You are late,” she teased.
“I am. Forgive me?” William’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “My mother decided last minute that she would like to attend this ball, and we had to scramble to get her appropriately attired in time.”
Ada smiled. “She decided last minute? Whatever changed her mind?”
“You did, I do believe.”
Ada’s smile died. “Ah. She’s afraid I will blow up the entire room? Or is it only you she worries for?”
William shook his head. “She’s afraid of no such thing. More like fascinated. As am I.”
She put her hand on her hip, fighting the flush that rose to her cheeks. “You can watch the Edrens fight any time from all over the country. I am not allowed to do it here.”
To her surprise, William threw back his head and laughed. Several people standing around them paused in their conversations to stare at him, but he seemed not to notice. “It is not just your… gift…” he dropped his voice and leaned closer so no one could overhear him. Ada’s pulse raced at his nearness. He smelled musky, and the smell made her giddy. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you are unlike the rest of the debutantes.”
“Ah. Unsophisticated? Headstrong?”
“Not boring.”
Finally at that, Ada returned his smile. She raised her dance card. “I saved you a spot, but not until the next set.”
“It is as I assumed. You have every bachelor here vying for your affections.”
Ada raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know about every bachelor…”
Again he laughed. A tall blond man who was her next partner arrived at her side. “Miss Aleshire?”
She offered him her hand and let him lead her out to the dance floor, glancing over her shoulder at William as she was whisked away. He bowed with a rueful smile. Perhaps this was what drew women to London for the social season every year. It was something like battle, but far, far more dangerous.
When it was finally time to dance with William, Ada discovered something. Dancing at a ball is much more fun when you are dancing with someone you actually like. His arm was strong at her waist, and his hand did not shake in hers as they spun easily through the room. She’d practiced dancing with Christian at home many times, but he had always been nervous and uncertain. William was confident, which made her more confident. Surprisingly, that made for a much more enjoyable experience.
“You two make a beautiful couple,” Vivian said as William handed Ada off to her mother’s care. He smiled at Ada, kissing her fingers before he released her.
“Miss Aleshire is beautiful enough that anyone with her is beautiful as well,” he said, before bowing.
Ada curtsied and watched him walk away, to dance with another girl, no doubt. She had several more men waiting for her, as well. But she admitted, in her heart, that she would like to dance every dance with William.