Wedding Hells (Schooled in Magic Book 8) (5 page)

Emily sighed. There was no point, she knew, in suggesting she could wear just one dress during the wedding. She was expected to wear a new dress for each day of the ceremony - five in all - even though each dress cost enough to feed a poor family for a year. Queen Marlena would make sure of it, no matter what Emily said. But it could be worse. Alassa had to wear
nine
dresses during her wedding, including one that had to be worn the day after she tied the knot.

“There’s no choice, I suppose,” Emily said. She finished unpacking and picked up the timetable from her bedside table. “When are they coming back?”

“They said they’d arrange it for when you arrived,” Imaiqah said. “Alassa will send her mother a note once she sees you.”

She paused. “Have you seen Caleb yet?”

“No,” Emily said. “We exchanged a few letters, but he couldn’t come to the house.”

She glanced at her friend. “Have you seen him?”

“He was in classes, but I haven’t seen him otherwise,” Imaiqah said. “I don’t know what he was doing.”

“I’ll go find him later,” Emily said. Caleb and she had to finish their joint project before the exams started or they’d be marked down. “Was he...”

“Well, I haven’t
heard
of him being with anyone else,” Imaiqah said. She stuck out her tongue as Emily colored. “That
was
what you wanted to ask, wasn’t it?”

“Just a little,” Emily admitted.

She finished reading the timetable and sighed. Martial Magic had been taken off completely - she’d killed the tutor, after all - but the rest of the timetable was crammed. She would barely have any time to catch her breath before the exams started in earnest. Lady Barb had added a note, warning her to revise areas covered in the classes she’d missed; Emily nodded and silently promised herself that she’d get notes from her friends so she’d know what to revise. The only upside of being in the house, she suspected, was that she’d had plenty of time to practice her practical spellwork.

The door opened, revealing a tired-looking Alassa. “Emily,” she called. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You too,” Emily said. Alassa looked perfect, as always, despite her tiredness. Long blonde hair framed a heart-shaped face, inhumanly clear of marks or blemishes. “Did you have a long day?”

“Professor Thande kept me back because I managed to blow up one of his prized caldrons,” Alassa said. Her robes were stained with something Emily preferred not to identify. “He wasn’t pleased about the mess.”

“Nor was the rest of the class, I suspect,” Imaiqah said. “What did you
do
?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” Alassa confessed. “I think I
may
have added the bat’s blood a stage too early, but trying to compensate by adding lizard scales was definitely a mistake.”

Emily looked from one to the other, then shrugged. “Back to work tomorrow,” she said, firmly. “Or...” - she looked at Alassa - “do we have to do the fitting before the exams?”

“They’ll come take your measurements within the week,” Alassa said. “After that, there will be a few minor adjustments once you arrive in Alexis. You shouldn’t have to worry about anything else until then.”

“But Alassa will,” Imaiqah said. “How many guests are you allowed to reject?”

“None, it would seem,” Alassa said. She stomped her foot as she started to march around the room. “I’m going to have upwards of four
thousand
guests at my wedding - and, compared to some of the weddings of yore, that’s small. But I’m not allowed to reject any of them, even though I wouldn’t want to be in the same room with some of the assholes my father has invited. Can you believe he’s invited Barnum De Born?”

“No,” Emily said, “because I don’t know who he is.”

“Minor nobility,” Imaiqah put in.

“
Very
minor nobility,” Alassa said, “and about the only thing he’s good at, apart from sucking at my father’s teat, is gathering gossip and writing scurrilous poetry about the great and the good. But father wants to invite him to the wedding.”

She shook her head. “You do realize I’m going to have to dance with all the male aristocrats? And that I don’t even get to pick my own bridesmaids? Every young noblewoman between eight and eighteen has applied for a post. I’m going to have more bridesmaids than there are students in Whitehall.”

“Not literally, I hope,” Emily said. There were around a thousand students in Whitehall and fitting them all into the Great Hall was difficult. “Don’t you get to whittle them down a little?”

“Just a little,” Alassa said. “But I’m going to be preceded by at least a hundred young maidens.”

“I’m sure it’s worth it,” Emily said. She didn’t envy Alassa, not really. Maybe she’d been born to wealth and power, but it came with a cost. “And you can claim a reward for it later.”

“I doubt it,” Alassa said, pessimistically. “Gratitude simply doesn’t last.”

Emily frowned. “And you told your father about the demon’s warning?”

“Father says he’s taking every precaution he can,” Alassa told her. “But he flatly refused to allow me a private wedding with only a few guests. My wedding is
the
event of the year.”

“I know,” Emily said. The vision the demon had showed her felt almost like a dream - or a nightmare. Alassa bleeding to death on her wedding day...She’d been told it was a possibility, not a certainty, but there were times when the mere thought of it scared her to death and times when it seemed nothing more than a trick of her unconscious mind. “Take all the precautions you can, please.”

“Father and Jade are organizing them,” Alassa said. She gave Emily a reassuring smile. “I can’t refuse to have a public ceremony, Emily. Father would never let me get away with it.”

She shrugged, expressively. “I’ve taken the liberty of arranging for a few friends to join us after dinner,” she added, changing the subject. “I know you have to get back to work tomorrow, so you can catch up with everyone tonight.”

“Go find Caleb now,” Imaiqah advised. “He’ll want you to seek him out personally.”

“I will,” Emily said. She glanced at her watch - there was an hour until dinnertime - and stood. “Thank you, both of you.”

“Just be there at the wedding,” Alassa said. “I might need to hide behind you midway through the ceremony. Too many aristocrats.”

Emily smiled and left the room, walking down the corridor to the lower door. Madame Beauregard was standing in front of the door, berating a Third Year Emily didn’t recognize for some offense. She waited patiently for the housemother to let the younger student go, then asked Madame Beauregard to find Caleb for her. The housemother eyed her for a long moment before consulting the school’s wards and informing Emily that Caleb was in one of the higher-ranking spellchambers. Emily thanked her and hurried down towards the Armory.

The door was closed and warded, but opened when she rested her fingers against the locking charm. Master Grey had granted her permission to use the spellchambers whenever she felt like it, back when he’d been pretending to be a real teacher, and no one had bothered to rescind the permission. Inside, Caleb stood in the center of the room, tossing off hexes at the training dummies. Emily smiled and watched as he knocked down two more before noticing her and ending the game. The dummies picked themselves off the floor and marched back to the walls, where they would wait for the next training exercise.

“Emily,” Caleb said. “I...”

He ran towards Emily and hugged her, tightly. Emily hesitated, then allowed herself to melt into his arms. Kissing him felt...strange as well as good, but she was no longer so reluctant to let his lips touch hers. She held him for a long moment, then stepped backwards, breaking the hug. Caleb let her go.

“It’s good to see you again,” she said, and meant it. “What were you doing here?”

“My father will insist on knowing just how well I’ve been doing,” Caleb explained. “At some point, he’ll have my mother take me into a spellchamber and put me through my paces - if he doesn’t ask Casper to do it. I have to be ready. Sergeant Miles was kind enough to let me use the room.”

“You’re doing fine,” Emily said.

“I’ll never make a combat sorcerer,” Caleb said, shaking his head. “I think too much, I think.”

Emily smiled. Sergeant Miles had said, more than once, that some people reacted instinctively to any given situation, while others tried to think their way through before acting. There were advantages and disadvantages to both, he’d gone on to say, but someone caught in a situation that called for the other reaction was going to wind up in trouble. Caleb would spend too long, if he was challenged, thinking of what spell to use. He wouldn’t just snap one off at once to upset his opponent.

“As long as you can look after yourself, it isn’t much of a problem,” Emily pointed out. “Are they still willing to see me?”

Caleb looked relieved. It crossed her mind, suddenly, that he must have wondered if she’d think better of dating him, after they’d been unwillingly separated for a month.
She
hadn’t thought like that, but...she’d never really doubted that Caleb liked her, once she’d realized he did. He could have avoided her altogether if he’d wanted.

“They’re looking forward to it,” he said. He frowned, darkly. “Casper
may
want to ask you about the duel. He’s got dueling ambitions of his own.”

“Joy,” Emily said, sarcastically. She’d expected Void to insist on going through the duel, spell by spell, but he hadn’t asked her about it. She
had
received a handful of letters inquiring if she would like to write an outline of the duel, which she’d burned after reading. It wasn’t something she wanted to think about. “What should I tell him?”

“Piss off, if you want,” Caleb said. He smiled, rather nervously. “Or just that you don’t want to talk about it.”

“I don’t think your mother would thank me for telling her son to piss off,” Emily said, ruefully. Nothing she’d heard about Casper had been good, but it was clear that Caleb cordially disliked his elder brother. “I’ll just say I won and that’s all there is to it.”

The dining bell rang. Caleb took her hand and led her out of the chamber, walking up towards the Dining Hall. Hundreds of students poured out of various classrooms; a number glanced at Emily, their eyes going wide, then backed away as if she were a wild animal. She sighed inwardly, cursing under her breath, as Caleb gently squeezed her hand. It was almost certain that many of the students staring at her had either watched the duel or heard eyewitness reports. The latter had probably grown in the telling.

“Emily,” Frieda called, as they reached the entrance. She ran towards Emily, arms open wide. “Welcome home.”

Emily let go of Caleb and hugged the younger girl tightly. “It’s good to see you again, too,” she said, as Frieda let go of her. Frieda looked to have put on a little more weight, thanks to the proper food she was receiving at Whitehall. Her dark hair had been tied neatly into two ponytails. “Did you have a good time?”

“I was the sole pupil in some of my classes until the others recovered from the demon’s meddling,” Frieda said, cheerfully. She shot Caleb an unreadable glance and then turned her attention back to Emily. “I learned some
really
interesting tricks that I can’t wait to show you.”

“I can’t wait either,” Emily assured her. She nodded towards the door. “Shall we go eat?”

Frieda nodded and pushed her way through the crowd into the hall. Emily followed at a more sedate pace, noting how the younger students seemed to be in awe while the older students watched her warily. There was a power hierarchy at Whitehall - she’d been told, in no uncertain terms, that picking on younger students would be harshly punished - but her defeat of a full-fledged combat sorcerer had smashed it. No one was really sure where she fit in.

But I don’t care about the hierarchy
, she thought, crossly. If other students wanted to engage in mock duels, that was their concern.
All I want is to get on with my studies
.

She took a plate of food - the servants, at least, didn’t treat her any differently - and made her way to the table. Alassa and Imaiqah were already there; Melissa sat at the far end of the table, alone in a crowd of students. Emily felt a stab of pity and waved to the redheaded girl, who nodded back. At least Markus made regular visits to Whitehall, Emily knew. Melissa wasn’t
completely
alone.

“You could always ask her to join you,” Frieda offered. “She’s hoping you will.”

Emily hesitated. Both Alassa and Imaiqah had good reason to dislike Melissa, although Alassa had probably played as large a role in starting the feud as Melissa. If she asked Melissa to join them, they’d object. There were too many bad memories for them to be anything more than coldly polite to one another. And, if she was honest, Emily had to admit she had too many bad memories too. She’d already done far too much for Melissa.

“Not now,” she said, sitting down next to Alassa. “It wouldn’t go down well.”

“I think I may have made a mistake,” Imaiqah said. She held out a parchment to Emily. “I have to take care of
all
of this.”

Emily took the parchment and unfurled it. “You have to supervise the bride, check the invitations with the guests, supervise the bridesmaids at their rehearsals, coordinate with the groom’s family and guests...how many things are there on this list?”

“You need to get help,” Alassa said. “Speak to my father’s castellan. He’ll tell you who can be spared to assist you. Make sure whoever handles the bridesmaids is nobility, because they won’t listen to anyone else.”

“Alicia,” Emily suggested. “She’s in line to be a Baroness.”

“I’m not sure she would be terrifying enough,” Alassa said. She smiled, sweetly. “You should do it, Emily. Tell them you’ll turn anyone who doesn’t behave into a bird.”

Emily frowned. “Why a bird?”

“They’ll make pleasant noises, if nothing else,” Alassa said. She smiled, then looked past Emily at Caleb. “If you want to attend, please let me know so I can send an invitation.”

Emily blinked. “You weren’t going to send him one?”