The Princess in the Tower (Schooled in Magic #15)

“No,” Jade said. “I checked, carefully, but the story is still the same. Young unmarried women are listed on the paperwork of their legal guardian, who is responsible for them.”

“Ouch,” Emily said. She was aware, all too aware, of the restrictions loaded on women who didn’t have power in their own right, but coming face-to-face with one of them was disquieting. “Which one of you is my legal guardian?”

“My father,” Jade said, “who will be very surprised to discover he’s suddenly got a whole new son and daughter at the same time. We’ll need to work on the papers later, if we’re stuck here for more than a week, just so we can build up a better cover story, but right now I think these papers are the best we’re going to get.”

Cat didn’t look pleased. “It seems a very sloppy system,” he pointed out. “I could take an entire regiment through the holes.”

“I think it was put together in a hurry,” Jade said. “Given time, they’ll tighten the system up considerably.”

“Or maybe it was just designed to make life difficult for anyone who wanted to cause trouble after the king took sole power,” Emily said. “Still, as long as there are cracks in the system, we can walk through them.”

Jade nodded. “It’s getting dark. There doesn’t seem to be a curfew outside the Royal Mile, but we should hurry up and get something to eat anyway. We don’t want to be caught before we even make contact with Master Abrams.”

Emily nodded, checked her appearance in the pocket mirror and headed for the door, trying to hide her disquiet. Alexis was familiar territory, which made the changes so terrifying. It would be easy to do something wrong, something that would bring the soldiers down on them, just because they weren’t used to living in a police state. But then, even with the New Learning, there were very real limits on just how hard Randor could clamp down on his capital city. The Soviet Union and Communist China had access to population-control techniques and technologies that would make the Spanish Inquisitors wet their pants.

The air smelt foul when they stepped outside, even though the dockyards and surrounding areas were steadily coming to life. Thousands of men–and a number of women–thronged through the streets, heading home or looking for something to do now that work had ended for the day. The taverns seemed to be doing a roaring trade, as were a handful of unmarked buildings that Emily suspected were brothels. She was surprised that the soldiers weren’t trying to intervene and pack everyone back to their homes, although she supposed it made a certain kind of sense. Heavy drinking was practically a dockyard tradition. The soldiers didn’t want to provoke a riot when it would be completely unnecessary.

“They’re not asking anyone for their papers,” Cat muttered, as they slipped past another bunch of soldiers. “I don’t know what they’re watching for.”

“They probably want to remind people that the king is watching them,” Emily said, looking towards the castle. It shone like a lighthouse in the growing darkness. “Their mere presence will probably stop a riot before it starts.”

She couldn’t help feeling nervous as they kept walking down the streets, looking for a relatively quiet place to eat. The dockyards didn’t look very civilized: the workers pushed and shoved at each other, quaffing vast quantities of beer while waiting for their turn in the brothels or merely killing time before they had to go home. A burst of singing made her jump, echoing out from the nearest tavern; two dogs were fighting in the streets, watched and cheered by a large crowd. She shuddered helplessly as one dog tore the other one’s throat out, then held up a bloodstained head for applause. The crowd went wild, toasting the dog even as money changed hands. They’d been laying bets on the fight.

They found a small diner and stepped inside. A grim-faced woman directed them to a wooden table, pointed to the menu on the wall and hurried into the backroom. Emily had to smile as she ran her eyes down the small list, noting that nearly everything was fish. The diner probably couldn’t afford beef, lamb or pork. She ordered fish and potatoes, then sat back and watched the crowds outside. An uneasy aura of violence hung in the air. She couldn’t help thinking it was only a matter of time before a fight broke out.

The woman returned, carrying a tray of earthen beer mugs. Emily eyed hers warily–she knew better than to drink alcohol, even though there was nothing else to drink–then cast a careful spell to make the liquid safe to drink. It tasted foul, but at least it was safer than water. Even now, even after the New Learning had made it clear that water had to be boiled to make it safe to drink, only a fool would drink local water without cleansing it first. There was no way to tell where the water had been before it was poured into her glass.

“We’re going to have to find somewhere larger,” Jade muttered, after casting a very careful privacy ward. “That room is nowhere near big enough for us.”

“We’re going to need more money too.” Cat glanced at Emily. “Don’t you own shares in a bank?”

“In Beneficence,” Emily said. Markus had talked about opening a branch in Alexis, but she didn’t know if he’d done it. God knew the economic crash last year had been pretty unpleasant in Zangaria too. “Getting some money out might be tricky without giving them my name.”

She considered the problem for a long moment. Markus would be willing to help, she was sure, but Beneficence had its own problems right now. The last thing they wanted to do was piss off King Randor. Emily didn’t think the king could actually invade the city–that would require weapons and equipment that were decades away–but Randor could certainly blockade the city, perhaps even bombard it into submission. Any help they received from Beneficence would be very covert indeed.

“Yeah,” Cat said. “Don’t you have friends and allies in Cockatrice?”

Emily shrugged. “Imaiqah was arrested,” she said. “I don’t think Randor would have left Bryon in charge. He’d have put his own man in the barony.”

She felt an odd pang of guilt. She’d never liked being a baroness, she’d never liked being in charge of millions of people, but…she’d been good for them. She knew she’d been good for them. They hadn’t just prospered under her, they’d thrived. And her decision to leave had left her people at the mercy of King Randor and his minions. In hindsight, perhaps she should have been more careful. Cockatrice was the freest place in the country. Randor would have to stamp on them, sooner or later. He couldn’t have people asking why Cockatrice had been left alone.

“I don’t know who he put into Swanhaven,” Jade offered. “But it won’t be anyone good.”

“No,” Emily agreed. “It will be a loyalist through and through.”

The woman returned, carrying a large tray. Emily took her food, feeling suddenly ravenous as she breathed in the smell. Boiled fish, potatoes and something that might have been vegetables…it was bland, almost to the point of being tasteless, but she was too hungry to care. Besides, people would notice if she asked for salt or expensive condiments. She’d heard of a fleeing nobleman who’d betrayed himself by walking into an inn and loudly demanding an omelette with half-a-dozen eggs.

Her lips twitched at the thought. It hadn’t meant much to her, at the time. She could buy a dozen or more eggs at the corner store if she wished. But in the days before mass farming, six eggs for a single omelette would have been unpardonable gluttony. She’d have to be careful herself not to make any similar mistakes. She was far too used to living in Whitehall School. By local standards, the students lived in unimaginable luxury.

“So,” Cat said. “Who is Master Abrams?”

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