“We won’t,” Emily said.
“I’ll be in my office,” General Pollack said. “Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything.”
Caleb followed Emily and Frieda up the stairs, then jabbed a meaningful finger at their bedroom door. Frieda hesitated, glancing towards Marian’s door before opening her door and hurrying though. Caleb reached out and hugged Emily the moment the door was half-closed, holding her tightly. His hands were still shaking.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t with you during the ceremony,” he said. “I…”
He shook his head. Emily wondered, again, just how much he’d had to drink. She’d seen Caleb angry, but not maudlin. And yet…Casper had been maudlin when he’d been drinking alone. She hadn’t liked seeing that either.
“It wasn’t your fault,” she said. Caleb hadn’t designed the ceremony. The rules had been laid down hundreds of years ago. Men and women were separated as soon as they entered the temple. Hell, she’d had the impression that women were rarely allowed to visit. “I’m sorry the service was ruined.”
“Casper is probably looking down on us now and laughing,” Caleb said. “His funeral turned into a riot…he’d find that amusing.”
He shook his head. “I hope he’s happy, wherever he is.”
“Me too,” Emily said.
“And everyone asked me when I was going to get married,” Caleb added. “They all seemed to want to know.”
“That’s because you are now the Heir,” Sienna said. Emily jumped. Sienna stood in Marian’s doorway, holding a wooden hairbrush in one hand. “I believe I explained that earlier.”
Caleb took a step backwards. “Why do they care?”
“Because they have to know what’s going to happen in the next few years.” She cocked her head, thoughtfully. “If there’s a city left, that is.”
“There will be,” Caleb said.
“Perhaps,” Sienna agreed. “We shall see.”
Her voice hardened. “Go to bed,” she ordered. “And make sure you take a sober-up potion before you close your eyes.”
“Yes, Mother,” Caleb said.
“And remember what else I told you,” Sienna added. “Not under my roof.”
Emily flushed. They hadn’t been doing anything, apart from hugging. But she knew Sienna was in a dark mood. The funeral had been ruined. Casper might be laughing, as Caleb had suggested, but his parents had to be furious. They might need to hold the ceremony again.
“Sleep,” Sienna ordered. “And behave.”
Emily stepped into her room and closed the door.
Chapter Sixteen
“THAT WAS CARELESS,” FRIEDA SAID, AS Emily shut the door. Her tone was light, but her eyes were serious. “You could have been in real trouble.”
Emily shrugged, locking the door and pulling off her robe. She’d faced necromancers and a whole host of other monsters. Sienna was intimidating, but not that scary. Her nightgown was where she’d left it; she pulled it over her undershirt, then lay down on the bed. The wards were a reassuring presence at the back of her mind, but she knew sleep wouldn’t come easy. It felt like hours before she fell into darkness…
“It’s breakfast,” Frieda said. “Did you sleep well?”
“You’re joking,” Emily said, in shock.
She glanced at her watch. Frieda wasn’t joking. She’d slept for over ten hours. Odd, when she’d barely drawn on her magic. Maybe she’d accidentally charmed herself to sleep. She hoped not. There were stories about young magicians who’d done just that and wound up trapped in their own minds. None of them ended well. She pulled herself out of bed, splashed some water on her face and pulled on another blue dress. Trousers would be better if she had to run, but she had none. Maybe she could borrow a pair from Karan.
“I hope you slept,” she said, as they opened the door. “Did you?”
“For a while,” Frieda said. “And then I studied instead.”
They walked down the stairs. It was dark outside, the sun barely glimmering below the horizon. There was no sign of Caleb, Croce, or Marian at the breakfast table; General Pollack, Sienna, and Karan sat there, eating lumpy bowls of porridge. It dawned on Emily, as Sienna pointed to a chair, that starvation was a real possibility. If they couldn’t get out of the house…
“The riots seem to have simmered down,” General Pollack said, by way of greeting. Emily would have been more impressed if he wasn’t still wearing his sword. “There was no trouble up here.”
“They went looking for easier targets,” Sienna said, as Karan served Emily and Frieda. “I don’t think many rioters would be stupid enough to challenge the wards.”
Emily hoped Sienna was right, but she doubted it. Rioters weren’t even as clever as the stupidest person in the mob. It was easy to imagine crowds pushing against the wards, forced into contact by their fellows. Pain wouldn’t stop them when the pushers weren’t the ones being hurt. But then, the sorcerers should be able to make their wards strong enough to keep the crowds out without seriously hurting anyone.
She chewed her porridge carefully. It was strikingly bland, without sugar, milk or anything else that might make it more edible. She told herself, firmly, that she should be glad to have it. There were people on the streets who might be starving by now. God alone knew what had happened outside the wards.
Karan took the bowl as soon as Emily had finished and carried it back into the kitchen. Emily suspected Karan was looking for something to do, to keep herself occupied.
Sienna cocked her head. “We’ve got visitors,” she said. “Come into the living room.”
Emily tensed as she rose. Hostile visitors? But Sienna didn’t look alarmed…