A Fool's Errand
I'd half a mind to tell Jenice what was on my mind, but in the end I let it go. I couldn't rule out the possibility that my hypothesis might simply be wrong.
If I had been Violetta, the late queen dowager, I would have verified it long ago.
It was entirely possible the verdict would come back that Cassion wasn't a mage at all, and that his illness had nothing to do with magic.
But that's exactly what "what if" is for. And depending on who did the checking, the results might not be the same.
Just as one physician's diagnosis and prescription could differ wildly from another's, so could a mage's findings. I decided to pin my hopes on that sliver of chance.
At the very least, I'd get him looked at.
Having resolved to try, though, one problem still remained.
How was I supposed to get Prince Cassion out of the royal palace?
Julia might be hunkered down at the moment, but the watch kept on Cassion would surely have tightened. If it came out that he had set foot outside the palace, there was no telling what kind of spite Julia would visit on him—having lost Phoenix Bank, her venom had to be burning at a full boil by now.
"Is there really no way to bring a mage into the royal palace?"
I turned the question over for a while. There wasn't. Which meant, once again, that the only way was to bring Cassion out myself.
"What do I do... oh. That's it! Dayson!"
The fretting didn't last long. The answer came to me almost at once.
I can just use Dayson!
"Jenice! Where's the letter paper?"
And without another moment's delay, I sat down to write a letter to Dayson.
The carriage bearing Dayson wound down the long colonnade and passed through the Rose Garden, halting before a marble palace washed in the scarlet light of the setting sun. Anderson stood waiting at the entrance, come out to receive him.
"Your Highness. You've arrived."
Anderson bowed as Dayson hopped lightly down from the carriage. Whatever errand had brought him here, the prince seemed a touch on edge.
"It's been a while. How is Mother's mood today?"
Gauging Julia's state before facing her was essential. She was a colossal slave to her own moods—when the fancy struck her, she would throw fits even with her firstborn son standing right in front of her. On days word came of her temper running foul, Dayson wouldn't so much as set foot anywhere near Brighting Palace.
"She is well, Your Highness."
Dayson let out a silent sigh of relief at Anderson's answer.
As they crossed the garden, Julia came into view, standing beneath a parasol held aloft by an attendant while she admired the flowers.
"Mother!"
Dayson hurried toward her, raising his voice in a bright greeting, and Julia turned. Loose silver strands slipped free of her swept-up hair to scatter on the breeze, and the clean line from her bare neck down to her shoulders was straight and lovely. In her red dress, decked in jewels that caught the light and flashed with her every movement, she flaunted a beauty so radiant it was difficult to believe she had a son of fifteen.
Watching him come bounding over hard enough to throw his whole balance off, Julia's brow creased.
"Compose yourself properly, wherever you are."
She chided him shortly as he reached her side. Dayson, still panting, promptly held his breath and squared his posture.
"Have tea and refreshments brought out."
While Dayson set himself to rights, Julia gave the order to her attendants. Chairs were drawn out, and mother and son took their seats.
"Mother, have you heard the news? They say the most celebrated mages on the continent are all coming to Broom!"
Broom was the capital of Petrora.
"I did hear, Your Highness. Petrora's chief mage post stands vacant, does it not?"
"Oh? Is that so?"
Dayson answered with vast indifference, plucking a cookie from the tray an attendant offered and popping it into his mouth. Julia's brow furrowed.
When she'd heard her son was interested in the Mage Association's event, Julia had assumed he meant to take an interest in the selection of the new chief mage. Her expectations had missed the mark entirely—Dayson simply wanted to go because he found mages fascinating. It would have been splendid had he thought to win the mages over to his side, but watching him sit there looking utterly empty-headed made Julia's chest tighten with vexation.
"Mother, I heard that ordinary citizens are allowed to attend the event the Mage Association is holding this time. May I go too?"
Julia's gaze sharpened.
Nothing irritated her more than hearing Dayson, royal-born, lower himself to the level of common folk.
"Ordinary citizens, Your Highness? Mages are mere tradesmen of a craft. What are they next to royalty? Never demean yourself, wherever you may be."
At the biting voice and keener look, Dayson set down the cookie he'd been holding.
"Yes, Mother."
And with that, his tone changed entirely, and he answered with a grave face.
It was a mercy Dayson had at least some sense.
Surviving the royal palace demanded the ability to read a room. The only reason Julia never troubled herself to scold him at length was that he possessed that one bare minimum requirement.
"Mother, so may I go?"
Dayson pressed eagerly for an answer.
"Have you received an invitation?"
"Wouldn't it have gone to His Majesty?"
Julia saw through her son's true purpose at once. He hadn't come to ask whether he could attend the mages' gathering. Dayson had already resolved to go, and had come to beg Julia to secure an invitation from Karman on his behalf.
Getting acquainted with mages and laying the groundwork for future ties was a fine thing. No doubt it was sheer curiosity on Dayson's part, but curiosity working in a beneficial direction—so Julia resolved to oblige him gladly.
"I shall make the request of His Majesty."
"Thank you!"
Watching her son light up with delight, Julia smiled quietly to herself. He was shedding the last of his childish shell and edging toward manhood, yet in her eyes he remained her darling boy all the same.
"Mother, there is one more thing I've come to ask."
"Go on, then."
Dayson fiddled with the tablecloth, stealing glances at her face. After a long moment, he spoke with the utmost care.
"May I take Cassion with me?"
In an instant, the warmth drained out of Julia's face.
"Cassion?"
"Yes. I'm meant to meet Lady Diana at the Mage Association's event, and she tells me she'll be bringing her younger cousin along. Wouldn't it look better if I brought Cassion as well?"
Cassion, and now Diana on top of him. Julia's thoughts tangled into knots.
What is that girl playing at?
Ever since Dayson's birthday banquet, Julia had been forced to concede that Diana was no ordinary child. And now that child was approaching her son. She hadn't spared him so much as a glance at the birthday dinner itself—which meant she was surely after something.
"Mother?"
When Julia sat sunk in thought without answering, Dayson called to her anxiously. Her son, who so rarely asked her for anything, had finally come with a request—and Diana was tangled up in it.
Julia weighed what to do about it. But first, she needed to sound out Dayson's heart.
"Lady Diana is a charming girl, isn't she."
"Yes, quite charming. She carries herself properly, and she seems very clever. Do you feel the same, Mother?"
At Julia's casual probe, praise of Diana spilled freely from Dayson's mouth.
Tsk. The boy has gone head over heels for the girl's face.
Julia clicked her tongue inwardly. And in the very midst of hunting for a way to pry Diana away from her son, an excellent idea came to her.
So long as Ehrenberg ends up in my hands, what does it matter who its master is?
To claim Ehrenberg, she had labored to seat Count Kolkos in the guardian's chair. Yet all along, there had been a simpler road.
If I marry Dayson to Diana—the rightful heir—then Ehrenberg falls to me naturally. True, wielding it freely might prove difficult.
She was a child, after all. Marry her off first; if she refused to obey, one need only bury her in some forgotten corner of a castle later on.
I'll keep the possibility open.
A venomous smile curled across Julia's lips.
"Very well. Take Cassion along, Your Highness. Though I hardly imagine he'll manage to go out—his health is so poor."
"Oh! Don't worry about that, Mother. If he's feeling ill, we can just tuck him away in the carriage."
Dayson said brightly. Julia had little patience for her son's tender heart, but those words pleased her right down to the core.
On the evening before Magelake's birthday, the street surrounding the Mage Association building was sealed off completely. A colossal dome had been raised around it, so vast and pitch-black that from a distance it looked as though a great hole had opened in the fabric of space. Crowds milled about the perimeter of the void, from which not one ray of light nor one note of sound escaped; behind that black veil, the festival celebrating Magelake's birth was in full swing.
"They say the food just floats in midair, and a violin plays all by itself!"
"Waaah, I wanna go inside!"
Children wailed and threw fits wanting in, while their parents were kept busy trying to soothe them. All the while, those same grown-ups kept one eye on the invitation-holders slipping through the veil, hunting for a gap to squeeze in themselves—entirely unaware that without the magic seal a mage pressed onto the back of one's hand, anyone who tried would simply bounce right off.
I watched the commotion outside for a while before closing my carriage window.
"I can't wait, Diana!"
Bella, seated across from me, clapped her hands in a show of excitement. The sight of her flushed cheeks and that grin stretched from ear to ear made my stomach twist.
It can't be the festival she's excited about. She's looking forward to the princes, obviously.
"Sure. It'll be fun."
I answered absently, studying her.
"What? Do I look strange today or something?"
When I went on staring, Bella asked, suddenly self-conscious.
"Strange? As if. You look beautiful."
In truth, Bella looked like a giant wrapped gift today. She loved to dress up at the best of times, but with the princes to meet, she had evidently piled on the finery without restraint. Ribbons tied here, there, and everywhere; a dress drowning in ruffles; a yellow bonnet to boot. And what was with the bag barely bigger than her palm? Even if she bought something, there'd be no fitting it into that little thing.
Did she even bring any money?
Five gold coins, at a generous guess.
What could she possibly buy with whatever fits in that bag? Well, perhaps she won't need to spend a thing.
Every morsel of food and every spectacle at the Magelake birthday festival was free of charge. Most of the attendees were mages under the association's banner, and there was no reason to charge them; the tiny handful of special guests, meanwhile, were people whose standing depended on staying cordial with the mages—taking their money would have been unseemly. The association did sell enchanted tools for coin, admittedly, but only because every last one of them fetched a princely sum.
A thoroughly useless bag, whichever way I looked at it.
Bella, swept up in her own excitement, murmured something or other. I let it run in one ear and out the other as I gazed out the window.
When is Cassion getting here? I want to check on him as soon as possible.
I had no interest whatsoever in the festival. My interest lay in one thing, and one thing only: whether Cassion's illness had anything to do with magic.
Ah—well, there is one more thing I'm looking forward to.
How pretty Cassion would look today.
The clothes I sent him had better suit him well.
A few days ago, I had sent Cassion an outfit and accessories to wear to the festival as a gift. According to Flac, the moment he'd opened the box, Cassion had whooped with delight.
He isn't planning to leave it all in the box, is he? It really will look wonderful on him.
A shirt with a wide lace collar and frilled sleeves; a vest embroidered with gold thread along every seam; and even a cape set with gold at the shoulders—gold the very shade of Cassion's eyes!
The artisans had labored over it stitch by painstaking stitch.
I'd spotted the outfit in a shop window while passing down the street, and the instant I saw it, I knew beyond doubt it was meant for Cassion. I marched straight in, had every ruby button replaced with gold and the white embroidery recut in gold thread, and signed the contract on the spot. The tailor complained there was no time for design alterations, so I paid him nearly double—and had the outfit delivered right on schedule.
Jenice shook her head, muttering that I'd gone overboard, but a sick boy like Cassion was exactly why I wanted to see him dressed all the more brilliantly.
It's bound to suit him perfectly.
I was gazing out the window, brimming with anticipation, when the royal carriages appeared. The crowd drew back to one side of the street in a single motion.
"Diana! I think the princes are here!"
Bella flung the door open and bolted out.