While the main campus was nestled between two inner defensive walls, it retained two satellite campuses for hands-on learning at the airfield and the railyard. Caris hadn’t been able to wheedle her mother to let her tour either of those locations today, but she was hopeful it could happen after the debutante ball tomorrow.
“You seemed interested in clarion crystal cutting. Is that what you’d like to study?” Nathaniel asked.
Caris shook her head. “I’ve been studying that for years. I’m more interested in engine modification these days. Do you race at all? I’ve found the racing circuit to be rather on the cutting edge when it comes to engine innovations.”
“Caris,” Portia warned.
She gave her mother a wide-eyed look of faux innocence. “But he asked what I’m interested in studying.”
“I can’t say that I’ve had the pleasure of sitting behind the steering wheel of a racing carriage,” Nathaniel said, sounding amused. “Have you?”
Caris would’ve answered, except a fearful scream caught her attention, and she rocked to a halt on the paved pathway that cut through the center common. Nathaniel immediately stepped to the side, putting himself between them and the cluster of people across the open grass being accosted by peacekeepers and several men and women in regular clothes.
“What’s going on?” Portia asked quietly as she wrapped her arm around Caris’ shoulders.
Caris didn’t miss the way Nathaniel’s hands clenched into fists or the way his jaw tightened. He looked furious, but he made no move to approach what was going on. Other students scattered across the center common had turned to watch the commotion, several drifting closer for a better look.
“A debt collection,” Nathaniel finally said in a flat voice. “There have been quite a few happening on campus this spring. I had hoped no more would occur.”
Caris sucked in a breath, heart hammering against her ribs as she watched the travesty unfold. She knew the risks of doing business with banks. Her father was ever careful with their accounting ledgers, and he’d taught her to be wary about taking on new loans. Collateral could be deathly expensive, and one had to weigh all the risks before signing a binding contract.
Her family was lucky in that their business thrived, but many weren’t, especially with the change in collection laws. Daijal’s parliament had signed off on a broadening of what the banks could use to demand collection of collateral as a wedding present for Prince Wesley and his new wife, Princess Eimarille. Ashion’s parliament had yet to ratify it, but that hadn’t stopped the Collector’s Guild from handing out jobs to its certified debt collectors.
She’d heard rumors of families taken in the dead of night in Cosian, never to be seen again. Citizens in the eastern provinces didn’t take kindly to Daijal interference, and Caris was well-read into the politics of doing business under a slowly shifting rulership. The laws were changing, and not necessarily for the good. Restrictions and regulations happened in increments that no one thought twice about until it was too late.
Like a frog in a pot set to slow boil, Caris thought bitterly.
Her parents’ caution was why she’d been given private tutorship of her magic over the years and had not been sent to a magician’s training school or the Star Order. More and more, if a magician did not hold allegiance with Daijal, they were looked at askance by high society. That general reaction was beginning to trickle down into the lower classes of Ashion. Nowadays, rumors of someone thought to be aligned with the Clockwork Brigade had the potential to kill.
Caris was not known as a magician and carried no wand. She’d tried to use one once and had blown the clarion crystal to pieces. For some reason, that had made her parents double down on keeping her magic a secret. It was frustrating, being unable to use what burned beneath her skin, but Caris knew her parents only wanted to protect her. That hadn’t stopped the way her magic just—wanted to burst out of her lately.
“Can we do anything to help them?” Caris asked.
“Not if you don’t want to be arrested. An interference charge comes with a hefty fine and jail time. While I’m sure you could afford it, you don’t need the attention,” a voice said from behind them.
Caris turned to find Professor Arquette staring at her with an intensity that was startling. “It’swrong.”
“You’ll find few here on campus who will disagree with you. But there is nothing you can do without endangering yourself in the process.”
“Professor Arquette is right,” Nathaniel said brusquely as he shook his head in disgust. “Neither of you should have to see this. Let me escort you and your daughter away from here, Lady Dhemlan.”
“Please do,” Portia said.
“I’ll see you safely on with Nathaniel,” Professor Arquette said.
The professor came to stand on Caris’ other side. Hemmed in by both men, she and her mother were quickly escorted from the center common, the cries of the people being remanded into the debt collectors’ custody echoing in her ears.
The whispers of what was happening behind them followed them off campus to the guest lot where the motor carriages were parked. Their driver was chatting with several others between the rows, but he immediately peeled away once he spotted them. By the time they reached the motor carriage, he had the door open for them and was prepared to offer his hand in assistance.
Professor Arquette hadn’t spoken since leaving the center common, but Nathaniel didn’t hesitate to properly bow to Caris’ mother. “May I inquire how long your stay in Amari will be? If it’s not too forward, I would ask about calling on your daughter to finish our discussion about engines.”
Portia studied him, the silk shawl she wore in deference to the warm spring air staying firmly put across her shoulders with the help of a brooch. “Will you be in attendance at the debutante ball tomorrow evening?”
Nathaniel hesitated but rallied well enough. “Regrettably, it was not on my schedule, though if I had known you and your daughter would be attending, I’d have made myself available.”
The shrewdness that came to her mother’s gaze made Caris want to squawk a protest. She knew that look all too well.
“We’re staying at our home on the eastern side of the river, at Sixteen Rose Court Garden. I’m sure my husband would not mind a visit with our daughter by one such as yourself,” Portia said.
