Chapter 1
From where Fitzwilliam Darcy was standing, the Great Hall was a sea of scarlet robes. It was the first time the Prince Regent had deigned to attend any exhibition by the Royal Mages. Ostensibly, the prince was here to witness the best displays of magic by the Royal Mage apprentices. But his real objective was to see a demonstration of the new Mirror Magic performed by Elizabeth and the former Imperial Mage, Ramon de Riquer. Or at least, to witness it with his own eyes.
The Prince Regent’s arrival was signaled by three loud blasts of the fanfare trumpet, and the hundreds of candles lighting up the Great Hall were dimmed, then smothered completely. A hush of anticipation fell over the pitch-black hall. Then a large golden globe appeared to light up the way for the prince and his retinue as he walked down the long red carpet then up some steps to where a throne had been set up on an elevated platform. Once he was at the top of stairs, the candles lit up like little glimmering stars, one by one, until the hall was blazing with light.
Darcy had witnessed many spectacles over the years, but this display of Elemental magic topped it all. Caroline Bingley and her apprentices had outdone themselves.
The prince turned to the audience and raised both hands to indicate he was going to say something. The silence was palpable as everyone strained to hear him.
“I am very pleased to be at Founder’s Hall for the first time to discover all the spectacular things you have been learning. I am looking forward to what you are going to show me. There is no need to be anxious because I am here. This is an informal affair, and I hope you will feel as comfortable as if I am one of your tutors. And to prove it, I want to hear from you all as loudly as possible.We are the Royal Mages, and we will not be defeated!”
“We will not be defeated!”
The Prince Regent blocked his ears, pretending to be deafened by their shouting.
Laughter broke out, and the tension eased.
Having accomplished his goal, the prince sat on his thrown, then waved his hand to indicate that everyone else could sit as well. The youngest lowered themselves into cross-legged positions on the floor in front. They were not used to wearing their formal robes, and it took a while for them to adjust their robes.
Finally, when all the rustling and the whispering ended, Elizabeth Darcy, nee Bennet, climbed the steps to the podium. As always, the sight of her sent Darcy’s pulse singing. Her elegant figure looked majestic in the scarlet robe, and her dark eyes sparkled as they caught the candlelight. Darcy watched, his heart in his throat. She had told him she was worried something would go wrong during her exhibition. However, she looked perfectly calm as she checked the bindings that attached the hand mirror to her arm. Taking up her position opposite Riquer, she nodded, then raised the mirror in front of her like a shield.
She looked like a fierce warrior, ready to face Napoleon himself. This was his wife. His heart swelled with pride at her amazing accomplishments.
Riquer produced a wooden ball and tossed it straight at Elizabeth’s mirror. Everyone gasped, expecting the glass to shatter, but it disappeared through the surface. A minute later, it emerged again, heading towards Riquer. Darcy whooped inwardly, but not for long. The ball simply passed through the mirror and came rushing towards her, this time much faster. Elizabeth’s cloak billowed as she swirled and returned one attack after the other, the ball appearing and disappearing faster and faster until it became a blur.
Then suddenly Riquer raised his mirror above his head and swung it like a bat towards Elizabeth. Darcy watched with alarm as the ball emerged from the mirror, whizzing straight at Elizabeth, hissing through the air. It was moving dangerously fast. His gaze was pinned on her, his pulse galloping. He braced himself for the sickening thud and the cry of pain as it struck. It took every ounce of his willpower to stand by and do nothing, his every instinct screaming in protest. Even Riquer was looking worried as she stood rooted to the spot, her eyes fixed on the ball.
The ball came to a halt, a bare finger’s width above her head, and was swallowed up by the mirror. Darcy waited, but it did not emerge again. What happened? Was this what she meant about something going wrong? He broke up in a cold sweat. People shifted in their seats and began to whisper.
A loud thud came from the back of the hall. People craned their heads as someone screamed. The ball flew over the audience, swooping up and down, skimming over the rows of heads as they ducked. It swerved up and made a loop. Then, picking up speed, it headed straight towards the Prince Regent.
Darcy held his breath. Time stopped and panic set in. Who was controlling the ball? Was it Riquer? Was he a traitor? Had Napoleon sent him here for this? A sudden blow to the head could kill the royal heir to the throne. It would be a remarkable coup, even if Riquer did it in full view of a hall full of witnesses. He would swing for it, but he would have accomplished his mission.
Darcy stared in frozen horror as the scene unfolded. The prince's guards sprinted forward to intercept the ball, but it eluded them by rising swinging to and fro. Matlock sprang to his feet in alarm. Darcy did not know if he could complete a Warding spell in time. He glanced towards Elizabeth for help. If he bonded with her—
She was smiling. Clearly, she did not think anything was amiss. The ball came to a halt, then floated down gently, light as a feather. The Prince Regent put out his hand and the ball landed softly in his palm. He held it up like a trophy.
The reaction was stunned silence. Everyone turned to look at Elizabeth and Riquer. Darcy blinked at the space where Elizabeth had stood a moment ago. She was gone. So was Riquer. The platform was empty. They had vanished into thin air. Darcy searched around the room, but there was no sign of his wife. A stunned silence fell on the Great Hall.
Then abruptly, the two mages reappeared, standing before the Prince Regent. Elizabeth curtseyed deeply, and Riquer gave an elaborate bow.
The Prince Regent was the first to react. “Brava!” he cried, standing up.
Everyone scrambled to their feet in response, as the rules of protocol demanded. The noise was deafening. Cheers erupted, whistles and whooping filled the hall. As his heartbeat returned to normal. Darcy looked around at the shining faces of the apprentices, full of admiration and eagerness to learn the sameskills. He looked on with delight. Elizabeth had found her rightful place at the Royal Academy. It had been a long struggle, but she had more than proved herself today with the new skills she had learned from Riquer. She was already a remarkable Janus mage. Now she had added something else to the mix.
Elizabeth must be the most powerful mage in the Kingdom.
As she descended from the platform, Darcy rose to go to her, then decided to wait. She was surrounded by apprentices, questions spilling from them as she laughingly tried to answer them. At her side, Riquer was basking in general admiration, waving his hands effusively as he talked.
“Doesn’t it bother you that she outshines us all?” said Lord Redmond, his young Janus Twin, appearing at his side.
“Not at all. I am glad that my wife has achieved the recognition she deserves. People did not exactly welcome her at the beginning.”
“Guilty as charged.” Redmond gave a rueful smile. “My only excuse was that my aunt had predisposed me to dislike her, and I was still a child.”
The boy had been forced to grow up quickly. Darcy nodded, casting his mind back to those difficult times. Darcy himself had contributed to making Elizabeth feel unwelcome at the beginning. “You were not the worst by any means.”
“Well, it is all water under the bridge now." Redmond looked towards the corner where one of the Tutors was preparing his apprentices for the next magic display. "I am glad we do not have to do a demonstration. How could we possibly compete?”
