The Right Side of History (Schooled In Magic Book 22), Christopher Nuttall [books to read romance TXT] 📗

reasonable man, during wartime, but that had been before his father had been captured and imprisoned by his own people, leaving the Crown Prince far too close to the throne. “What powers do you have to negotiate? And what sort of concessions are you prepared to make?”

“We want to return to our capital and resume our positions,” Prince Hedrick said. “The prisoners, including the remainder of the royal family, are to be released immediately. We will grant the rebels amnesty if they stand down and return to their former positions...”

“None, in other words,” Emily said. Her heart sank. She wouldn’t accept such concessions. Hell, they weren’t concessions in any real sense. “You’re asking them to surrender.”

“We are the legitimate rulers of our kingdom,” Prince Hedrick said. He tapped the map with one finger. “We will not surrender our rights to anyone, certainly not rebels and traitors and foreigners.”

“And why,” Emily asked, “do you expect them to agree?”

“We have the army,” Prince Hedrick said. “And if they don’t agree, we will purge the land with fire and blood.”

Emily groaned, inwardly. It was going to be a long day.

Chapter Ten

IT WAS HARD, EMILY DECIDED OVER the next hour, to get a proper read on Prince Hedrick. He was smart - she’d met aristocrats who could barely count past ten - and yet, at the same time, he was stubborn when he really shouldn’t be. It didn’t seem to occur to him that he didn’t have the force to convince the rebels to bare their throats for him, let alone place their lives in his hands. He veered between condescending nonsense that tested Emily’s patience and a mindless optimism that was almost worse. She was convinced, by the time the messenger finally returned, that the rebels would be doing King Jorlem a favor if they executed his youngest son.

“We have already granted you safe conduct,” Prince Hedrick insisted, as Emily scanned the message. “You don’t need it from them, too.”

Emily snorted. Prince Hedrick could grant her all the safe conduct he liked, but he could no more guarantee her safety than Emily could declare herself Empress of Earth. It would be easy enough to proclaim herself, just as Emperor Norton had proclaimed himself Emperor of America, yet no one would feel obliged to actually take her seriously. It was the rebels, not the royalists, who controlled much of the countryside. And even they didn’t have the power to guarantee her safety. The reports had started that banditry, a common response to famine and excessive taxes, had been on the rise for years.

“Grab your bag,” she ordered, curtly. “Just one. We’ll meet you outside.”

She smiled as she stood, brushed down her dress and headed for the door. Prince Hedrick had fled Jorlem City in a hurry. It was unlikely he’d had time to pack before running for his life. Alassa would have supplied him, Emily was sure, but she wouldn’t have given him anything more than the bare minimum. If the rebels won, and held their position against the neighboring kingdoms, Alassa would have to enter into discussions with them. They’d hold it against her if she gave the prince more than token help.

“His brother is a little smarter,” Lady Barb commented, as they headed down the stairs. “But they can’t concede too much without surrendering everything.”

“I know,” Emily said. “And the rebels feel much the same way.”

She rubbed her forehead as they stepped into the bright sunlight. It was noon, more or less, but it felt much later. Her body clock was a mess. She’d have to make sure to get a good night’s sleep when they reached the city, if she couldn’t snatch a nap in the coach. She abandoned that thought as soon as she saw the coach itself. It was an open-topped vehicle, pulled by two black horses and flanked with white livery. She frowned as she joined Lady Barb in casting wards around the vehicle. If they weren’t careful, a single sniper could put a bullet through the driver’s head before they could react. Or hers.

Silent sat in the driver’s seat, holding the reins in one hand and the whip in the other. Emily hadn’t known she could steer a team of horses, although she supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised. Void had good reason to want his servants to be familiar with the aristocratic world. Emily sometimes felt Silent blended in far better than she did. The maid certainly wasn’t pretending to be a great lady...

She winced, again, as Prince Hedrick stepped out of the inn and walked towards them. He scowled as he saw the carriage. “We need an escort.”

“We don’t want to look like an invading army,” Emily pointed out, crossly. She doubted anything less than a company of troops could protect them, if the rebels or bandits wanted them dead. “Our magic is all the protection we require.”

She clambered into the coach and sat on the chair. Someone had gone to some trouble to charm the vehicle, ensuring the passengers had a smooth ride even when the vehicle was racing down a bumpy road. Emily checked the defenses, then rested her hands on her lap as Prince Hedrick sat facing her. He hadn’t paid any attention to Silent, she noted. She wasn’t sure he’d even realized she was female. Silent was the kind of person who just blurred into the background, much like Emily herself.

That isn’t an option, she reminded herself, as Lady Barb sat next to her. I have to convince two factions to come to terms...

She gritted her teeth as the coach started to move, glancing from side to side as Silent steered the vehicle onto the royal road. It was meant to be reserved for the aristocracy - and diplomatic messengers - but she could see dozens, perhaps hundreds, of people making their way towards Dragon’s Den. Some were in coaches or carts, some were walking... their faces grim and worn as they plodded onwards. A handful of coaches looked as