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

she’d agreed to protect him. But not handing him over would make it impossible to negotiate with the rebels... as if it wasn’t already impossible. She gritted her teeth. Events seemed to be piling up so rapidly that outright civil war was becoming inevitable. There was no way the two sides could come to a compromise without one side backing down completely.

“Prince Hedrick is under...”

“Hedrick,” Althorn corrected. “We no longer recognize the aristocracy. The People’s Assembly has declared all titles of nobility forbidden.”

Emily was inclined to agree - the concept of aristocracy was fundamentally unfair - but that was an argument for another time. “Hedrick, then,” she conceded. “Hedrick is under my protection, in line with the safe conduct you sent. I cannot hand him over to you.”

The crowd surged with anger. Althorn held up a hand, quietening them. Emily studied him thoughtfully. He had charisma and yet... he seemed to have too much control. Was he a magician? She couldn’t sense any magic around him, yet... that proved nothing. She reached out gingerly with her senses, picking up traces of magic blanketing the city. The rebels had some magicians working for them, she guessed. Their wards were enough to keep the royalist forces from spying on them.

“The People’s Assembly has proclaimed him guilty of numerous offenses,” Althorn informed her. “He has to face the court.”

And get his head chopped off, Emily thought, sourly. She didn’t like Hedrick, and yet she couldn’t let him be taken and killed out of hand. The trial wouldn’t be remotely fair. What on Earth do I do now?

“I cannot let you take him,” Emily said. In hindsight, perhaps it had been a mistake to let Hedrick accompany them. “If you object to his presence, I’ll teleport him elsewhere, but it will make it harder for you to talk to the royalists.”

Althorn smiled. “I suppose there are few other people the one who styles himself the Crown Prince will heed,” he said. “Very well. We’ll leave him in your custody. But you are responsible for his behavior. Feel free to hand him over when you tire of him.”

The crowd laughed. Emily felt a flicker of irritation. The one who styled himself the Crown Prince... it was going to be hard to get anything done if both parties refused to recognize the other’s mere existence. She looked at the king’s head and shuddered, inwardly. Perhaps it would be better to grab Hedrick, teleport everyone out and leave the royalists and rebels to fight it out. But she knew just how many people would be caught in the middle. The slaughter would be beyond imagination.

“If you’ll allow me, I’ll lead you to your accommodation,” Althorn said. He scrambled into the coach without waiting for permission. “Drive down towards the embankment, then turn right towards the castle.”

Silent cracked the whip. The crowd parted to allow them to drive into the city. Emily glanced back and saw the guards resuming their positions, as if nothing had happened. It bothered her... had it all been a set up? Some of the guards looked professional, despite their mismatched uniforms; some looked as if they didn’t know how to fire their guns. She hoped they knew which end to point at the enemy. She’d heard horror stories about men who peered down the barrels while pulling the triggers...

Up close, Althorn looked... striking. She felt a stirring that she hastily suppressed. He was attractive, but... there was more to it than just physical attraction. She wasn’t sure how to put it into words. She’d met kings and powerful sorcerers and she’d never felt such a stirring... not even with Cat. She gritted her teeth. Such feelings were dangerous. They were not to be trusted.

She leaned down and unfroze Hedrick. The prince’s sword clattered to the deck. “Behave yourself,” she said, firmly. “Or I’ll freeze you again.”

Hedrick gave her a look that promised bloody revenge. It would have scared her if she hadn’t faced angry necromancers. She knew he’d been humiliated - if she was any judge, the tale would rapidly spread all over the city - but she’d saved his life. The crowd hadn’t wanted to give him a fair trial. They’d wanted to cut off his head and stick it on a pike. She understood the impulse, but... she sighed, inwardly, as Hedrick took his seat. He’d probably be convicted in a fair trial, too.

She turned away, studying the city. The streets and buildings reminded her of Alexis, steadily growing larger and fancier as they moved deeper and deeper into the city. A number of buildings had been burnt to the ground, the rubble still smoldering as rebels and citizens poked through the debris for anything they could salvage. Others looked untouched. She wasn’t too surprised to note that all the pubs had been left strictly alone. Men - and not a few women - were drinking heavily, although it was the middle of the day. Her lips thinned in disapproval. Drunken crowds were dangerous.

Her eyes narrowed as she studied the people. There were rebel soldiers everywhere, all wearing the little cloth caps, but the civilians seemed surprisingly happy. Emily found it difficult to believe. People from all walks of life were on the streets, from children playing happily to young woman walking without male guardians. Jorlem City - Freedom City, Althorn had called it - was more open and tolerant than the countryside, but it was odd to see so many unaccompanied women. And with so many soldiers on the streets... she shook her head. It looked as though society was changing, perhaps for the better. Perhaps the rebels had already given women full civil rights.

Their parents won’t like that, she thought. And it may not work out so well for the girls themselves, if they insist on rights without responsibilities.

“That was a bank,” Prince Hedrick muttered, pointing to a burnt-out shell. It had clearly been solidly built, to the point the fire hadn’t destroyed the framework, but it was beyond