The Master of the Academy cleared his throat. “That said, I will now have Frederick lead you to your first lesson. I am sure you have much to think about in the hours that follow.”
Leaving the atrium behind, Alex, Ella, and I followed a winding corridor to the left. I had just finished introducing the two when I noticed the prince watching us from the corner of my eye.
“Don’t look now,” I said to Ella in a low voice, “but I am pretty sure if looks could kill, you and I would be dead already.”
Ella’s eyes shot to whom I was referring to, and then rolled her eyes. “Well, he can glare all he wants. I had a right to question his being here. Who cares if he’s not first-born? All it takes is one accidental stabbing, and suddenly, he’s the realm’s first mage king.”
“Would it really make that much of a difference?” Alex asked abruptly. “If anything, I think having a member of the Crown would help the mages’ cause, not hurt it.”
“You say that now,” Ella replied, “but you wouldn’t if you actually knew him.”
“You know Prince Darren personally?” I stared at her.
Ella grimaced. “Oh, yes, Darren and his brother. Trust me when I say not knowing is preferable.”
I was instantly curious. “What did they do?”
Ella shook her head, clearly unwilling to drudge up memories of her life back in court.
Alex glanced at me, and I shrugged. Our confusion faded momentarily, however, as we entered an enormous library with the rest of our class. The three of us took our seats in a hushed silence.
Already, there was parchment and quill ready for note-taking. Beneath my chair, I discovered three heavy leather-bound books. I couldn’t imagine the price they would have fetched back in Demsh’aa. Books were a privilege, a very expensive one that few nobles could even afford. Occasionally a baron or duke might have had a small collection at home, but only the king’s palace in Devon and the Academy could have so many volumes as the ones I saw now.
No matter where I turned to look, shelf after shelf greeted my incredulous gaze. Thousands of books and yellowing scrolls stacked high along the walls, and at the very end of each was a ladder leading up to yet another floor of manuscripts and tables.
I hazarded a guess that the second floor was a study. There was another floor after that, but I could not make out what its contents were.
Back at ground level, there stood a raised podium with two solid oak desks at its center. At the first sat a heavy-set woman in her midfifties. Her brown hair was pulled back in a wavy bun, not a strand loose, and her powder was perfectly pressed. She was dressed very severely underneath a heavy blue cloak, with a high-laced collar and an emerald pendant clasped tightly around her neck. Her eyes had a severity that warned one not to fool around in her presence.
To the woman’s right sat a slightly twitchy man about twenty years her junior. His vest and pants were frayed, and his hair was rather ragged. He had an untrimmed mustache that lined his chin and upper lip, but it seemed more from neglect than the careful precision of Master Barclae. In an erratic sort of way, the master stood and nervously glanced around the room. Though he seemed to be out of sorts, his eyes spoke of kindness and intelligence.
The duo introduced themselves as Masters Eloise and Isaac and wasted no time in familiarizing the class with their expectations for the year.
Magic was the very last thing on their agenda.
“There is no point in learning to cast if you haven’t a clue what you’re doing,” Master Eloise sniffed. “What you need is basics. I don’t care how much tutelage you have had, one can never know too much.”
“Yes,” Master Isaac added quickly, “‘tis far more important to know the ‘why’ than the ‘how’ in casting. The basics will give you that knowledge.”
The “basics,” it turned out, were history, science, mathematics, and geography. No weapons, medicines, or “anything of interest” as Ella had grumbled. I couldn’t help agreeing.
It would be two months before we would actually commence the study of our factions. “This way,” Master Eloise had noted, “I can be assured you have a proper foundation.”
Four long hours later, mind reeling and stomach growling voraciously, I pushed my way past the slow mob of students and practically collapsed into the dining hall. Ella found me just as I was piling my plate high with salted pork, spiced cheddar, and a variety of colorful vegetables.
“Hungry much?” she observed.
“You have no idea,” I said through a mouthful of toast. I could feel other first-years’ eyes on me as I ravaged a second roll, and I made an effort to eat a little more slowly.
“For the five days it took us to get here, all we’ve eaten is rye and one too many handfuls of dried fruit,” Alex added, snatching an apple off Ella’s plate as he joined us at the table.
Ella snatched her fruit back from my brother. “I guess that explains why you looked like a ruffian last night.”