“You’re a princess!” Liv exclaimed.

“No,” Lady Julianne said, with a sigh. “I am not a princess. My mother was the king’s mistress, Liv. That makes me a bastard, just like you.” The baron’s wife waved her hand at a finely carved wooden bench with stuffed cushions arranged atop it, and Liv took a seat, leaving her crutch on the floor at her feet.

“Begging your pardon,” she said, “but unless you were scrubbing chamber pots in the palace, m’lady, we’re not entirely alike.”

Rhea laughed out loud, taking another chair for her own. “She has you there, Julie,” she said. “The royal palace is not the same as a castle kitchen.”

“Perhaps I have misspoken,” Lady Julianne admitted. “The point is that I am not a princess; I could never be a princess, and there was never any world in which I would inherit anything from my father. Any property, at any rate. My husband has been paid a handsome dowry, and Father was generous enough with wedding gifts. I’m certain he’ll wish to send a few things for his grandson, as well. In that way, we’re similar. Let’s say you were to go north, Liv, and find your father. What do you think would happen?”

Liv shrugged, and looked down at the floor. “I don’t know,” she admitted.

“I would advise you to temper your expectations,” Lady Julianne said. “Men are all honeyed words when they’re trying to get what they want, but they don’t like the mess that comes after. Something to remember when you’re older. Now. Do you have your book with you?”

“I left it down in the kitchen,” Liv said. “I wasn’t sure why I was being called for.”

Lady Julianne looked over to Rhea. “Would you mind ringing the bell?”

“It would do you good to walk around,” the midwife chastised her, but rose and crossed the room anyway. She gave a tug on the rope which would ring a bell in the kitchen. “Has Kazamir taught you sigils yet, girl?”

“No,” Liv said. “He won’t let me. Says it’s too dangerous.”

“He’s drilled proper Vædic pronunciation into your head, at least?” The older woman settled back into her chair. “C’s are always hard, never soft? All of that?”

Liv nodded eagerly. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Good.” Rhea nodded. “I’m going to write a few charms in your book for you. Low magic to slow bleeding, and to close a wound. If you’re as sharp as everyone says you are, you won’t have a problem using them.”

“We hope they won’t be needed,” Lady Julianne broke in. “But it is always good to be prepared. You aren’t going to be fighting anything, Liv, you understand that? We have plenty of guards to protect the town, and knights to command them. Every man of age will take shifts on the walls.”

“I understand,” Liv said. “I don’t think I’d be very good at it anyway.”

“What we want you to do,” Lady Julianne said, “is to pay attention, and to tell me about anything odd. You’re clearly observant - you noticed the bat, that morning, and you were the only one who saw little Emma fall. Pay attention just like you normally would, but come to me directly if you think something is strange. Can you do that?”

“I can, m’lady,” Liv said. A knock came from the chamber door.

“Come in,” Lady Julianne called, and Sophie entered. As soon as she saw Liv, sitting with women above her station, the maid’s eyes narrowed. “Sophie, dear, please run down and fetch Miss Brodbeck’s books from the kitchen; we’re going to need them up here.”

“Of course, m’lady.” Sophie gave a perfect curtsy and ducked back out the door, but Liv could tell she was boiling inside.

“I’m not happy with your husband,” Rhea said to Julianne, once they were alone again. “The entire reason I never joined the guild is that I didn’t want to be forced onto culling teams. I came here to birth a baby, not fight overgrown cave worms.”

“I know, and I apologize,” Julianne said. “I do see his point. Aldo is getting a bit long in the tooth. Help me loosen my bodice?” She turned in her chair so that the midwife could get at the laces on her back.

“You’ll be going to Coray Bay, in a few years?” Rhea asked Liv. She stood behind Julianne and began untying the knots that held her silk laces tight.

Liv nodded, then realized the midwife wasn’t looking at her. “When I’m gown, Master Jurian said. What is it like?”

“It is the best place to learn about magic in the world,” Rhea said. “Though I’ve never been north, so I suppose I can’t speak to the Eld. I stayed for a year, which was long enough to understand the guild wasn’t for me.”

“Have you ever regretted it?” Julianne asked. “My uncle told me it was a waste to leave and get married.”

“No,” Rhea said with certainty. “I’ve delivered hundreds of children. I get to see them running around underfoot whatever neighborhood I visit. I’m even delivering the children of the babies I delivered years ago, now, like this one.” She playfully batted her hand against Lady Julianne’s shoulder. “There’s something satisfying about that.”

Julianne turned to Liv and smiled. “She won’t ever let me forget it.”

“I was being tutored by Magia Annora when the king called for her,” Rhea explained, taking her seat again. “She took me by waystone, which was an experience, let me tell you. Only time I’ve ever been to the capital. I just kept my mouth shut, didn’t look anyone in the eye, and caught this one on her way out. She had good lungs even then.”

“That’s actually one of the reasons I accepted Henry’s offer,” Lady Julianne said. “Annora told me that you lived up here in the mountains. I thought you would be at least one person I could trust.” Her eyes flicked back to Liv. “If she’s still there when you get to the college, go and find Magia Annora, and tell her I sent you.”

“Yes, m’lady,” Liv said. There was another knock at the door, and Sophia delivered her books to her, then left, avoiding eye contact the entire time.

“Good,” Rhea said, holding out her hand. Liv handed her the leather book with all the blank pages. “Julie, you have a quill and ink? I’ll just put these in the back. I see your master has already left some notes for you there.” The midwife took Liv’s book over to a small wooden desk set against one wall of the sitting room, and began to work.

Liv had more questions than she could count. Who was Magia Annora, exactly? How did waystones work? What was the capital like? Why would Lady Julianne come all the way out here and get married if she could have been a mage in the guild? She kept her mouth closed, however. It wasn’t the place of a servant girl to ask questions of the lady of the house. And a lady who was the king’s daughter!

Finally, the midwife finished writing, set aside her quill, and capped the bottle of ink she’d been using. She blew gently over the pages of Liv’s book, to make certain the writing was dry enough, then closed it and brought it over to where Liv was sitting.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

“I hope you don’t need to use those,” Rhea said. “But it’s best you practice them if you get the opportunity. If someone cuts themself on a knife in the kitchen, pull your book out and give it a try. You never want to be attempting magic for the first time when you’re panicked.”

“Yes, mistress,” Liv said, clasping her books under her arm. She reached down to the floor to lift to crutch, and stood. “Is there anything else, m’lady?”

“No, go and get some sleep, dear,” Julianne told her. “Rhea and I have more to speak about, and I think we’re all going to be very busy for the next few days.”

It really was quite late, by that point. When Liv made her way down the stairs and into the servants’ quarters, she couldn’t hear anyone else moving around. She’d just got to her own room, and was juggling her books and crutch to reach the door handle, when she heard the creak of a door opening just down the hall.

“Don’t get above yourself, little miss,” Sophie hissed. Liv flinched back into her door. The maid was dressed for bed, wearing only a shift and a night cap, but her eyes were hard. “You aren’t better than us. No matter how much time you spend upstairs.”

“Leave me alone,” Liv told her. She opened the door to her room, slipped through, and closed it behind her. For a long moment, she worried that Sophie would try to follow her, or start banging on the door, but the girl must have gone back to her own room. There was only silence, and then a meow from her bed. “Charlie!” Liv called out to the cat. At least she wouldn’t be sleeping alone.

☙

The next morning, Liv was drafted to help with the morning meal, while Sophie was set to cleaning the chamber pots again. It made sense: Sophie didn’t know how to cook, and she wouldn’t have been much help to Mama and Gretta. Liv was certain it was only going to make the older girl more angry with her.

Liv was just pulling three fresh loaves of bread away from the hearth to cool when a knock came at the kitchen door. First Footman Archibald set aside his cup of tea and went to go and see who it was. A moment later, he called out, “Miss Brodbeck, come out and speak with Master Grenfell for a moment.”

She slipped out into the hall, where the mage waited for her. “Master Mage,” she greeted him, and curtsied. She was really starting to get the hang of doing it with a crutch.

”What are you doing in the kitchen?” Grenfell asked her, with a frown. “I looked for you upstairs in the great hall.”

”I was helping Mama and Greta,” Liv told him. Where else should she have been?

Grenfell shook his head. “The baron has assigned you a task as an apprentice of the mage’s guild. That takes precedence over any other duties. Get your spell book and come along with me. You’re wearing your ring?” She nodded. “Leave the apron.”

Liv ducked back into the kitchen. “I’m sorry Mama,” she called, “Master Grenfell needs me upstairs.” She hobbled over to her room, threw the dirty apron on her bed, snatched up her book, and hurried back out to where Master Grenfell waited for her.

”Come along,” he said, and set off toward the courtyard. Liv saw that he was dressed differently than usual, in a heavy wool cloak and stout leather boots meant for trudging through snow. A pair of fur-lined leather gloves were tucked into his belt, and the metal-shod tip of his staff rung against the floor of the castle with every pace.

”The culling team is leaving as soon as the sleighs are loaded,” Grenfell explained. “Which should not be much longer. Until we return, you should report to Lady Julianne every morning and do whatever she asks of you. Do you recall when I made you promise not to use magic without my permission, and not within the castle?”

“I do,” Liv said, following him out into the courtyard. There was a stiff morning breeze, and it caught up a scatter of snow and ice and swept it into their faces. If she’d know that she’d being going outside, she would have grabbed her winter cloak, as well.

“You are released from your promise for the duration of the eruption,” Grenfell said. “You understand? These men on the walls should kill anything that makes it this far,” the master mage said, waving his hand up at the parapets of the curtain walls that protected Castle Whitehill. There were more men than Liv had ever seen up there before, all carrying crossbows. “If something does come over the wall, the first thing you do is lock yourselves behind a door. If a mana-beast comes through the door, do not hesitate. Perhaps Jurian was thinking ahead after all.”

The three sleighs which had been offering rides at the Frost Fair were lined up in the courtyard, with a pair of horses hitched to each. A bustle of castle guards were loading packs of supplies into each one, while a knot of people huddled together against the cold wind. Rhea was there, and she smiled at Liv when their eyes met. Master Forester was holding little Emma against his chest, and the two were speaking too quietly for Liv to hear over the wind. The woodsman had a hunting knife at his belt, a quiver of arrows on his back, and a great longbow next to him, leaning against the second sleigh.

Of those going, Baron Henry and his knights were the most heavily armed. Each of them wore a jack of plate: a padded doublet with metal plates sewn into it for protection. Henry wore a rapier at his hip, while his knights carried a variety of weapons, including wicked looking spiked metal balls and hammers.

“Be safe,” Lady Julianne told her husband. Liv came to a halt next to Master Grenfell, only a few steps away.

“We will be back soon,” Baron Henry said. “I expect to find both my wife and my child in good health, Master Cushing.”

“I assure you, I will take the best possible care of them,” the old chirurgeon said, giving a bow.

“Very well. We are off!” Henry and the others began clambering into the sleighs.

“Take care of yourself,” Grenfell told Liv, hesitating a moment. “If I do not return, I expect that Baron Henry will find a new court mage. You can learn from them as easily as from me. Until they arrive, however, make certain my rooms are sealed. There are objects in my possession that could be dangerous in the wrong hands.”

“Yes, Master,” Liv said, though she could not imagine how she would ever convince the baron to do anything that he didn’t already want to do. Grenfell climbed into the leftmost sleigh, leaving only Emma and her father.

“Go with Liv now,” Master Forester said, attempting to set his daughter down on the ground. She clung to him with both arms and legs, refusing to be dislodged.

“Come along Emma,” Lady Julianne said, stepping forward to take hold of the girl. “Liv, help me.”

“If you come downstairs with me,” Liv offered, “you can meet my doll, Rosie. And we could find Charlie. He’s a black cat who purrs very loudly. Would you like that?” Emma shook her head, but finally wrapped her arms around Liv’s waist and clung to her.

“I’ll be back soon enough,” Kale Forester told his daughter. “You’ll be safe here. I’m jealous! You get to live in the castle, while I’m wandering around freezing my beard off!” Before Emma could run back to him, the hunter climbed into the nearest sleigh, settling his unstrung bow across his lap.

In all the sleighs, the culling team pulled furs over their laps and huddled in their cloaks, to guard against the cold wind. With shouts, the drivers got the horse teams moving, and the sleighs scraped across the cold stones of the courtyard, and out into the street. Liv, Emma, Lady Julianne and Master Cushing watched them leave, until the castle guards swung the gate shut and blocked their sight.

Liv couldn’t remember the last time the castle gates had been closed during the day.

“Come along inside,” Lady Julianne said. “Have you eaten yet, Liv? There’s plenty of food.” Emma, silently crying, allowed herself to be herded into the great hall, where she was eventually distracted by a plate heaped with sausages.

Though she still wasn’t comfortable eating upstairs, Liv was hungry, so she set her book down next to her plate and began the process of filling her belly. She flipped first to the charms Rhea the midwife had set down for her, the night before, whispering them to herself to try out the pronunciation. But no one had a cut or a bruise to practice on, so she flipped back to the bank of words that Master Jurian had provided her with.

“Master Grenfell told me I should report to you each morning,” Liv said, checking with Lady Julianne to make certain it was actually alright for her not to be downstairs.

“That is correct,” the baron’s wife assured her. “For the most part, I am going to be keeping you with me. For now, I wonder if you might introduce Emma to your mother? I suspect she would enjoy spending time in the kitchen. Why don’t the two of you meet me back here for the midday meal? I have a few things to talk over with the sheriff, and he should be here shortly.”

“Of course, m’lady,” Liv said. She closed her book, grabbed her crutch, and turned to Emma. “Let’s leave Lady Juliannne to her business, shall we?”

“Don’t wanna,” Emma grumped. “I want to go home.” She refused to take Liv’s hand, crossing her arms. Lady Julianne and Master Cushing, in the meanwhile, were already on their way out of the great hall.

“What if I promise you a surprise?” Liv offered.

Emma looked up with interest. “What kind of surprise?” the girl asked.

Liv smiled. “How would you like to see magic?”