Wizard's Masquerade, page 27
Bancroft had applauded all the same, his booming voice ringing across the yards.
“Good! Atta ‘girl, Leyna—go for the knees.”
“It’s too heavy,” she’d complained.
“So’s mine,” he said. “At least you’ve got the kids one—mine’s even heavier! Don’t be discouraged, it takes lots of practice, and you get stronger the more you train…or so they say, anyway.”
Like most wizards, Bancroft’s sword-wielding abilities were little to none, but Leyna hadn’t known that at the time, and had watched, enthralled, as the wizard repeatedly hit the dummy with his sword, slashing and piercing until straw was flying into the air.
She’d giggled as a piece of straw floated onto her face and tickled her nose.
“You’re not much of a foot soldier,” a passer-by had commented, leaning over the wooden rails to watch Bancroft.
Panting, Bancroft had stopped to lean on his sword and glared at the newcomer.
“And you’re not much of a cook, are you Cormack? But I don’t come into your kitchen and piss in your stew, do I?”
She’d been alarmed by the exchanged insults, and even more so when both men had burst out laughing, slapping each other across the back.
Leyna smiled at the memory, her eyes coming back into focus. Before her was a hessian dummy that had seen better days, the straw stuffing spilt on the ground beneath it.
She was disappointed that Bancroft had left with the court; he was her favourite person at the castle, and she’d been eager to learn from him and expand her magical skills.
Today, the yards were busy with soldiers, but there weren’t any wizards for her to spar with. She stayed for the better part of an hour, watching the soldiers train with swords and various other weapons, before leaving early for lunch.
Her afternoon was filled with a mix of duties. She quickly decided she liked the patrols of the grounds the best, as she could ride Budsworth around the castle’s perimeter as she accompanied the other guards.
Guard duty, meanwhile, was boring beyond words, and involved standing in various locations for hours on end. It was impossible to remain alert when nothing ever happened, and her legs grew restless and sore from standing in one place for so long.
Leyna had known that being a huskarl wasn’t all glamour, that it would have its dull moments, but it was another thing to experience it for herself. She was not afraid of hard work, and any task would have been preferable to the mind-numbing tedium of standing outside the steward’s office—he did not welcome visitors, and his door rarely opened.
She felt useless and uninspired, itching to use her skills and position to make a difference—to help others.
Her days fell into a routine; the Royal Guard would meet in the Captain’s office; after breakfast, she would teach Seth magic while deflecting jester’s interruptions; Grace, whose roster was amended, would train with her in the yards; she would join a unit to patrol the grounds; and then a boring door awaited her protection, the hours dragging on until dinner.
On the third day, Jester joined her while she was posted outside the steward’s office.
“Well, isn’t this exciting?” he asked. “May I join you?”
She straightened abruptly—he’d caught her leaning against the wall. “Er, sure.”
He leant on the wall beside her, the billowing sleeve of his white silk shirt touching hers. He leant even closer and held up a glass of golden liquid. “Drink?”
“I’m on duty,” she said, but couldn’t help wetting her lips. It was hot and her throat was parched. “What is it?”
“Apple juice.” Giving her a pointed look, he took a sip before offering it to her. “And I haven’t spiked it, in case you’re wondering.”
Glancing around the hall, she accepted the glass.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, sipping at the cool liquid, wondering whether her lips touched the rim where his had.
“I came to see you—thought you could use the company.”
She laughed. “Sure. But what are you really doing here?”
“I’m serious. I came here for you.”
She nearly choked on the juice.
“For me?”
“You can drink that all, by the way. I brought it for you. And yes, I thought we could continue our conversation from the other day.”
“About the Demon Book?” She drank another mouthful.
“Sure. Or…another topic, if you like. It needn’t always be doom and gloom, you know.”
“Bernie’s,” she said suddenly, remembering the travelling troupe of entertainers.
“Ah, yes, well.” Jester scratched behind his ear. “That’s a more pleasurable topic than a Demon Book, I’ll admit, but not exactly what I had in mind…”
“Why did the troupe need to be escorted to the castle? And how did the headmaster get the permissions? Singers, performers, acrobats…it seems like a security risk to let so many strangers into the castle.”
Jester grinned. “Perhaps you should ask the headmaster.”
“Yes, but I know you know. So you may as well tell me.”
He laughed softly. “Leyna, Leyna, Leyna…wouldn’t you rather discuss something more…stimulating? All work, and no play…”
“I’ll play,” she retorted, then blushed as Jester’s grin widened. She hurried to recover. “I’m on duty. That’s where my focus needs to be.”
“Indeed?”
She nodded and drained the glass.
“What a shame. Although, I do admire your dedication. ” He sighed, pushing himself off the wall, and for a moment, she felt a sharp yearning, not wanting him to leave just yet. When he reached out to touch her hand, a thrill ran through her—but he was only taking the empty glass back.
“To answer your question, not everyone in Bernie’s troupe are who they seem to be, including Bernie himself, but you can rest assured that they are all very much trusted by the king himself. Some of them even left with the court.”
“Why did the troupe need us to escort them, then?”
Jester’s eyes twinkled. “Perhaps someone put in a special request for a pair of pretty huskarls to make the journey more entertaining?”
Leyna scoffed. “That doesn’t sound like a good enough reason.”
“Well,” he said, leaning with an arm close to his head, the generous fabric of his sleeve brushing her cheek. “I certainly enjoyed our journey here.”
Her breath caught in her throat, and she blinked at him, speechless.
“And I do hope to see what your idea of ‘play’ is, sometime…”
Leyna remained rooted to the spot long after he’d left, straight-backed with her skin prickling all over, and feeling more alert than any other time she’d been on guard duty.
While she appreciated the nods of respect she received in the hallway when people saw her banderole, the pride she felt did not quite compensate for the mundanity of the long hours.
To her surprise, the most enjoyable part of her days were her lessons with Seth. He was an outstanding student with a sharp mind, and by the third lesson, he could already levitate small objects, propelling them across the room at the jester.
Jester was as bad as Seth, returning the boy’s onslaught by shooting spit wads of paper with a straw. He tried this with Leyna only once; she had quickly put a stop to it by shooting a small fireball his way, which set the bell-laden fabric triangles atop his mask on fire. Much to her and Seth’s amusement, Jester had refused to remove his mask, opting to pat out the flames with his cloak instead, and he had not shot any spit wads since.
One day before lunch, she spotted something out of place on her bed. The item was small and looked like a wooden jewellery box, with a lid secured with a simple latch. The exterior was pale yellow like ash wood and the surfaces were engraved with pink-stained roses. It was lovely.
Where had it come from? She had never seen the box before, and she was almost certain that it wasn’t Grace’s.
There was a brief note from Sophie to say a messenger had delivered it.
But who sent it?
Frowning, Leyna picked it up, but as she did so, the box squealed loudly.
She dropped it and yelled out in fright as she leapt backwards.
Holding her breath, she eyed the sinister object where it had tumbled back onto the bed. When it remained still, she approached again. Closer examination revealed that there were tiny notches in the side, like air holes, and her suspicion grew.
There was something alive inside.
Swallowing, she paced in front of the bed, never taking her eyes off the box as she debated what to do. What if there was a demon inside the box? Was there such a thing as Demon Boxes? The last thing she needed was another encounter with a being from the Other Side.
The urge to open it grew stronger, and for a moment, she feared she would hear a voice in her head compelling her like the Demon Book had done.
But nothing of that nature happened, and as she sat in her armchair staring at it, waiting, nothing continued to happen.
The clock on the wall chimed. She had less than an hour to be at the stables for a patrol of the grounds, and she still needed to have lunch. If she didn’t open the box now, she wouldn’t have another chance until that evening.
She chewed the inside of her cheek.
I could just take a peek.
Her fingers drummed the arms of the armchair.
Finally, unable to resist temptation, she leapt up and crouched by the bed, reaching forward to undo the latch. She used a finger and thumb to lift the lid, her body tense as she readied herself to leap aside should a demon spring forth at her.
The lid was fully open.
But nothing happened.
Then, suddenly, something shuffled inside the box. A ball of fuzz tottered out, teetering on the edges of the box before tumbling onto the sheets.
Leyna stared in astonishment as a brown furry creature, small enough to fit in her palm, sat looking at her, cooing softly. It had a round, fluffy body with two feet and a pair of large brown eyes. It didn’t appear to have a neck, or legs, or a tail—it was just a fur ball with eyes, feet, and a mouth.
Leyna felt lost in its wide, shining eyes.
It didn’t look like a demon.
Taking a deep breath, she placed a wavering hand near the creature, which rubbed its furry face against her fingers and purred happily before proceeding to climb into her hand.
The fur was so soft, so thick, that she couldn’t help but stroke its back with her other hand. The creature gave an excited yip and licked her palms with a small, pink tongue.
The door opened.
“Leyna, what are you doing?” asked Grace, entering the suite. “Oh my, what is that?” She hurried over and dropped to her knees, drawing a sharp intake of breath as she gazed at the creature cupped in Leyna’s hands.
“Um, I think it’s a gift.”
“It’s so cute!” Grace swooned, reaching to pet the creature. “Oh my gosh, you are so fluffy! Do you know who sent it?”
“No idea. Anyway, I think it was meant for you.” Leyna doubted anyone would send her gifts. Grace may have been new to Castle Rutherford, but each day that passed made it clear that she was as popular and well-liked here as she had been at the Guild.
“For me?” she asked. “Is that what the card said?”
“What card?”
“This card,” said Grace, reaching into the box and withdrawing a small, white card. “Haven’t you read it yet?
Leyna gave her head a small shake.
As Grace read the card, her brown eyes widened, and she covered her mouth to stifle a giggle.
“What is it?” asked Leyna. “What does it say?”
Grace smiled knowingly and read out loud:
To Leyna,
May this bring you joy.
From Your Secret Admirer
Before Leyna could react, Grace squealed excitedly and embraced her. “Ooh, Leyna, you have a secret admirer! Do you know who it is?”
“No idea,” she gasped, pulling free of the hug. “It’s probably a mistake.”
“But what about the feast? You looked so beautiful in your emerald dress! I knew you were bound to catch someone’s eye!”
“You’re starting to sound like my mother,” said Leyna, but she was smiling despite herself. “Anyway, there was no one there that I liked.”
Her stomach twisted as a thought occurred to her. Oh no. What if Sir Waldorf sent the gift?
“Come on, you must have some idea.” Grace’s face was alight with mischief. “Come on, who is it? Tell me, tell me, tell me!”
“I don’t know!” Leyna laughed as Grace tried to tickle her.
“What about the jester?”
Leyna shook her head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Not in a million years.”
“He’s handsome, isn’t he?”
“How can you tell?” asked Leyna, crossing her arms. “You can’t even see his face.”
“I can tell by his eyes,” Grace sighed wistfully, then added: “Well, and the rest of him doesn’t look too bad either.”
“Grace!” Leyna chided. She could feel her face growing hot.
“Or what about that man your mother was trying to introduce you to?”
“I hope you don’t mean Sir Waldorf,” said Leyna.
“No, no, not him!” Grace wrinkled her nose. “He’s too mopey for you. And a little old, isn’t he? No, I’m thinking of the other one…that Lord-something with the nice hair…”
Leyna tensed. “You mean Lord Brighton?”
Grace gave her a sly smile. “That’s the one.”
Her heart sped up, but she gave a dismissive shrug. “I suppose he does have nice hair. But no, trust me, he wasn’t interested.”
“Hmm.” Grace scratched her head in thought. “Well, who else could have sent it?”
An odd thought struck her. “What about Quinn?”
Grace stilled. “Quinn? What about him?”
Leyna rubbed the back of her neck. Her suggestion wasn’t serious; although Quinn was handsome—at least, in a surly, brooding way—she didn’t have any romantic feelings for him. Most of her interactions with him over the years had left her annoyed rather than charmed. Still, it was possible that Quinn had a soft spot for her. “I know it’s unlikely,” she continued, leaning in towards Grace. ”But what if Quinn is my secret admirer?”
Grace stared at her for a moment before she gave a strained laugh. “No, that’s ridiculous. Of course, it’s not Quinn! Leyna, why would you say that?”
Grace’s reaction was so unexpected that it was almost affronting.
“Well, why not?” asked Leyna indignantly. “Why couldn’t it be Quinn?”
Was it so unreasonable to imagine that he might like her in that way?
Grace covered her mouth with her hands for a moment. “Leyna, I’m unsure how to say this, but…the reason it’s ridiculous is because Quinn is courting me. So, he couldn’t possibly be your secret admirer.”
Leyna’s jaw dropped. “He’s…he’s courting you?”
“Yes, Quinn and I have been together for months now, ever since Winterfest. We celebrated our six-month anniversary last week before we left the Guild…” She gave Leyna a pitying look. “Did you really not know?”
Leyna shook her head. “Um, no, I suppose I didn’t.”
“Oh.” Grace bit her lip. “Well, we are.”
An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Leyna wrung her hands, unsure of where to look to escape Grace’s doe-like eyes.
“Grace,” she began, “I’m sorry I didn’t know.”
“Oh, don’t be. It’s my fault for not mentioning it. I just assumed everyone at the Guild knew.”
“They probably did,” said Leyna, scratching her head. “I’m sorry, Grace. I try to be observant, but sometimes I feel like I’m the last person to know these things.”
Grace clucked her tongue with a smile, then leant forward and squeezed Leyna’s hands. “There’s absolutely no need to be sorry. And you are observant. You just notice different things.”
Leyna smiled weakly. She wanted to be a good friend to Grace. Rolling her shoulders, she said: “Well, I’m happy for both you and Quinn. And congratulations on your six-month anniversary.” She searched for something else to say. “So…did you do anything to celebrate your six months?”
Grace perked up. “Well, believe it or not, Quinn and I had a picnic! Can you imagine?”
“Quinn on a picnic?” Leyna shook her head with a laugh. “Not really. I can imagine you dragging him along to one, perhaps.”
Grace batted at her playfully. “Well, you’re going to laugh, because the picnic was his idea.”
Leyna’s eyes widened. “No. You’re kidding.”
“I’m not! It was a surprise. We went for a walk in the woods near the Guild, and he had it all arranged. It was so nice. Oh, and he gave me this,” she added, pointing to the silver necklace she was wearing around her neck. Leyna had noticed it before, but never thought to ask where Grace had gotten it from.
“It’s beautiful,” Leyna said, smiling at the necklace. Both her friends—if she could call Quinn that—had surprised her. She had not taken Quinn for a romantic, and was grateful for Grace’s easy acceptance of her social blunder.
I should have known about their relationship. At least, I should’ve caught on to it sooner.
They had never been openly affectionate, but the signs had been there. She recalled how Grace and Quinn had danced together, and the way one always seemed to mention the other in conversation.
Leyna still felt the need to clear the air. “Um, Grace, just so you know, I don’t fancy Quinn or anything—”
Grace snorted. “Oh, trust me, I know. I can’t imagine two people less suited. In fact, I think you’d both kill each other.”
“Probably.” Leyna grinned, happy that the tension had dissipated.
Grace petted the furry creature, which was still sitting contentedly in Leyna’s hands. “Why, hello, beautiful! Hello!”
It purred in response, and rolled onto its back, exposing its tummy for Grace to stroke.
