James was reasonably sure that Christopher’s threat hadn’t been literal, but he didn’t take the chance. He even put on the full plate armour that he was supposed to wear for each shift; he was strong enough it wasn’t too burdensome, but in a real fight, lighter armour that had been thoroughly enchanted was a thousand times better. It felt as if his role was more ceremonial than practical. He hated that.
Theola was in her private apartment at noon, dressing for lunch, so James, Christopher and Will met the six-till-noon shift outside it. That meant another round of introductions and names James had no particular interest in remembering, though he at least pretended he cared.
Theola emerged fifteen minutes after they’d taken up their posts. James sucked in a breath and tried not to stare. He’d found her pretty when they’d first met, when she’d been dressed in ordinary clothes.
Now, dressed up to meet the King, she was stunning. She wore an exquisite blue dress that perfectly offset her raven-black hair and accentuated her curves, a diamond tiara that could probably finance an entire regiment of soldiers, and just the faintest dash of make-up – though she barely needed it.
“Jacob, good to see you again,” Theola said. “Shall we go?”
James realised belatedly that he’d been staring. He tore his gaze away from her perfect figure and nodded.
“Really?” muttered Christopher to him as they processed through the corridors.
Had he been that obvious? “Tell me she’s not gorgeous,” he replied in the same low tone.
“She’s a Mage. That is: way, way out of your league.”
That, and she was an enemy, not to mention way out of his league in a fight as well. It was a stupid idea. She was gorgeous, though.
The guards threw open the gates leading out onto the Central Ring. Theola blessed them with a smile, and the three bodyguards took up defensive positions. An attack was hardly likely here in the heart of Felix’s capital – James himself was probably the biggest threat to her – but it was their job to be cautious.
There was no incident in the half-minute it took them to reach the gates of the other palace, that belonging to the King – to Charles, rightfully, though he was not here to claim it. James allowed himself to enjoy the fantasy that he was escorting Theola to the true King as they were welcomed into the palace by another set of guards, their armour bearing the royal standard.
They were met at the door to the palace itself by a footman in an immaculate black suit. He bowed lower than it should have been possible to bow and announced, “My lady Mage, His Majesty expects you in the Blue Dining Room.”
The Round Palace had no less than eight dining rooms for different occasions. The Blue Dining Room was the smallest, used for more intimate receptions of a few select guests. James had eaten there a dozen times on Charles’s invitation during the Regency, before Felix had given up any pretence that he would yield the throne when Charles came of age.
They saw no-one as they passed through these corridors, no doubt by design. Two more footmen stood outside the doors to the Blue Dining Room, which were themselves painted a pale shade of blue. The footman who had escorted them bowed once more and left, while the two new footmen threw open the doors and announced “The Mage Theola has arrived!”
James peered inside, eager to get his first glimpse of the usurper. Some mad part of him was wondering whether there would be a chance to plunge a knife into his back; even if he succeeded there was no chance of surviving, but perhaps it was worthwhile nonetheless.
Felix Blackthorn rose from his seat at the head of the table, smiling. “My lady Mage,” he said, “how good of you to join us. Please, do sit down.”
“I thank you for your invitation, your Majesty,” Theola replied, though she did not curtsey. She stepped into the room and made her way to the empty seat on Felix’s left. That was interesting: their greetings implied they were equals. James hadn’t been quite sure what to expect there.
There were no established conventions for how a Mage and a King were to treat each other; the Kingdom had changed a great deal since the Mages had left it five hundred years ago. That meant the way Felix and Theola interacted here would reveal much about the power dynamic between them.
The three bodyguards took up positions behind Theola’s chair. They were not to eat; Captain Taylor had made that very clear, much to James’s disappointment. Though one of them was also to serve as her taste-tester; it would have been the height of insanity for Felix to have her poisoned but it would only take one rogue servant to slip something into her food without his knowledge. Today that duty fell to Will.
James shifted a little before finding a comfortable position to stand in, and glanced around to see who else was joining them for lunch. There was the Duke of Ridgeton on Felix’s right – that was hardly a surprise, they badly needed the naval power he could provide, and James happened to know that Charles had been negotiating for his support for months now. The old woman next to Theola on the other side wore the robes of one highly ranked in the priesthood, though James didn’t know her name.
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The table was small, so those four took up the whole of the side facing the door. Opposite the priestess was a man James vaguely recognised as one of Felix’s generals, opposite Theola was – that had to be Grenfell, Minister for War. The Duchess of Ridgeton sat opposite her husband, and opposite Felix –
His daughter. Georgiana. Georgie.
He’d forgotten Georgie. If he was brutally honest with himself, he’d deliberately forgotten her. Because it was easier to pretend that Felix Blackthorn was nothing but a monster. Because it was easy to pretend that his daughter hadn’t once been the third of a trio of friends destined for greatness.
Charles, James and Georgie. Friends forever. He had to supress a bitter laugh at the thought. And then another thought on its heels, this one far worse: Georgie knew him. It had been seven years, but that kind of familiarity didn’t just disappear. She knew him better than his own parents did, better than anyone except Charles.
The chances were good that surface-level changes to his appearance would not hide his real identity from her.
Especially when he had no choice but to stand opposite her for the next hour.
He looked away, trying not to meet her eyes, and stared fixedly at the door.
“I was just telling the Duke,” the usurper said, “about the excellent progress we’ve been making recently. Our victory at Clirith River shall be legendary one day. And we owe it all to you.”
“To the stars,” Theola corrected mildly. “I am merely the agent of their will.”
So that was why Felix had invited her to lunch, then: to be evidence for the Duke that the stars were on his side and that it was no use entertaining Charles’s offers. James found to his surprise that he pitied her: for all her power, it was as a political symbol that she held real value to Felix. Not as a person.
He wondered how many people really thought of Theola as a person, and hated himself for the thought. She was the enemy. She didn’t deserve his pity. He found his gaze drifting involuntarily towards Georgie.
So the hour passed: watching Felix and his most powerful allies eat and trying not to look at Georgie. Theola was soon drawn into a conversation with the priestess, who seemed more animated than he’d ever seen her kind. But then how often was it that you found yourself sitting next to your object of worship?
Georgie was quiet. If she had recognised him, she didn’t show it. She spoke only when spoken to and then kept her answers as brief as she could. He recognised that withdrawal: it was how she always acted when in company she didn’t much care for but which she couldn’t offend.
The stab of pity that followed that thought was even more unwelcome than his pity for Theola. When had things become so complicated? It was black and white. Right and wrong. Allies and enemies. There was no blurring of the lines.
He repeated that to himself again and again until finally, thankfully, the hour ended and Theola rose to leave. James stalked after her. It wasn’t, he realised, the walk of a submissive and dutiful bodyguard. But that was the worst mistake he’d made. Not too bad, considering the circumstances.
They made it back to the Mages’ Palace without incident. James felt as if he wasn’t needed from then, and wished he could just escape to eat. Theola had other ideas, though: she wished to study in the library. That wasn’t too bad; maybe he could get some studying of his own done while he was there. He’d never had access to the library as a student and hadn’t been able to subvert the wards surrounding it.
“Jacob, will you join me?” Theola asked.
James wasn’t the most socially adroit, but he still noticed the tension in Christopher and Will at that. Jealousy. It was understandable; he’d have felt the same in their place. “It would be my honour, my lady Mage.”
“I am glad of it.”
They passed through the wards without James noticing anything. Theola either had access or could just subvert wards without even blinking. He hoped very much it was the former. Though the door said the library was beyond it, it led only to a small antechamber with another door opposite.
Theola was smiling as she crossed the room and flung open the door.
“What… is that?” James asked.
It was clearly a library; there were bookshelves stretching up higher than James was tall, packed tightly together. The unusual part was the floor. Or, to be precise, the lack of it. There was nothing holding up the shelves but a misty greyness. James found his head hurt when he stared at it too hard.
“The concept doesn’t seem to have a universally accepted name. I like to call it the space between spaces.”
“Space between spaces,” James repeated. “You mean… it doesn’t exist, not in the normal sense. It’s set apart from the world.”
Theola nodded. “I believe it to be the space you travel through when teleporting.”
James blinked. “Distance has no meaning there. So it can exist without taking up ordinary space. You can store things there, train there – this could revolutionize logistics – why isn’t there more of this?”
“It appears to cause instability in matter,” Theola said. “Anything that is left there too long tends to… disintegrate, if it is not correctly enchanted. Besides that, the ritual to create it is extremely difficult and dangerous, so much so that even the original creator didn’t dare try to repeat it.”
“But surely you could,” James challenged.
She faltered a little, and her hand slipped from the doorknob. “I haven’t tried.” In other words: no, or at least she didn’t believe she could. That was interesting; a precious piece of evidence that she was an imposter. “You seem very interested in this, Jacob," she said, deflecting.
Did he? Wasn’t this just the normal reaction to discovering a new kind of space and a new area of magic? “I… suppose so. Yes.”
“Then you won’t be like these two – “ she gestured to Christopher and Will – “who are too scared of it to step inside.”
So that was her challenge. James was, in truth, a little scared – he would have liked the chance to at least experiment with passing different objects through the door before trying it himself – but now there was no choice at all. “If it is your command, my lady Mage, I will go with you.”
She smiled. “Forwards, then, together.”
Stars, that smile was dazzling. He wondered what he would do for another glimpse of it. He offered her his arm – no, Jacob who believed she was nothing short of a demigoddess would never dare – too late now.
Theola took his arm, and together they stepped over the –
Before James could step over the threshold he felt the ground vanish beneath his feet, saw nothing but darkness all around, felt the familiar awful discomfort of teleportation.