Chapter 2 - Birthright

  Madeline loved flying.

  The academy envoy was a nimble airship that reminded her more of an eagle than the elephant-like ships she had grown up with. The wooden hull hung beneath a large, linen balloon, leaving an open deck for her to stand on. A dozen of the headmasters' chafflings streamed about the deck, mopping and scrubbing its wooden planks, or working the sails that lined the ship's flanks. The imperial navigators above began to deflate the balloon in preparation for descent.

  She rested her arms upon the rails as she looked out into the distant horizon. There was nothing but clouds beneath them. She closed her eyes as the wind blew through her hair, and for a moment, all the weight of obligation, all of the heaviness of responsibility and expectation was gone. She was little more than a thought on the wind.

  “Princess.”

  And there it was. The moment was gone.

  “Yes?” She replied, reluctantly opening her eyes to meet Remus’s gaze. Headmaster Remus was young, the youngest headmaster in the academy’s history. He was no more than thirty if she had to guess, as he had never given her a straight answer whenever she asked. He was tall, blonde, and handsome, the spitting image of the Belmish ideal.

  Waddling up beside him came her chaffling, Daisy. She didn’t know Daisy’s age either, though that was for an entirely different reason. She looked like a middle-aged Belmish woman, though her right eye was white in white, absent of pupil or iris, marking her as a chaffling. Beneath the eye was a tattoo of Madeline’s house sigil, a dragon wrapped around a star. Daisy’s blonde hair was fading to grey, and when she laughed it painted her face with wrinkles.

  Her mother insisted she have Daisy switched out for something newer, but Daisy was unusually intelligent for a chaffling. She was able to speak a few words and even simple sentences, though for the time being she seemed wholly distracted by a butterfly, chasing after it with her hands.

  “We will be landing soon.” Remus said. His good looks were wasted on a man who spent most of his days locked in his study. He was only here out of obligation, same as her.

  Maybe she could use that.

  “Must we?” She asked. “We could keep flying straight for Orthos. Who would stop us?”

  “I would.” He replied curtly, his mouth tightening into a thin line.

  “Or… we could go back home? I’m sure you have lots of important work to do.”

  “Nice try.” He scoffed.

  “That obvious?” She said with a pout.

  “Any less and I’d say your mother was rubbing off on you.”

  “Hm, maybe I should spend more time with Daisy then.”

  Remus chuckled. “And there’s your father.”

  They watched as Daisy managed to catch the butterfly in her hands before trying to eat it.

  Madeline let out an exaggerated sigh as she stretched her arms out over the railing. For the first time in hours the clouds were parting, and their destination finally came into view. The humble village of Applemouth. The ragtag cluster of settlements and farms couldn’t have housed more than fifty people, and there wasn’t a single airship dock in sight.

  “So, which sorry house oversees this slum?” She asked.

  “House Vallier.” Remus replied, watching the village below with an unreadable expression.

  “Never heard of them.”

  “I’m hardly surprised.”

  “Then why bother coming all the way out here?” She huffed.

  “It is tradition that the king and headmaster formally invite each prospective student in person. Every year during the invitational tour, your father and I visited every student, every noble, no matter how big their house or small their name, and invited them to attend the academy. The headmaster before me did the same, and the headmaster before him, and so on.”

  "You’re not usually one for tradition." She said.

  "No, but your father is. He has entrusted me with your education, which is why this year, you will be taking you’re fathers place by my side. This is your exam princess, an exam which, I might add, you are currently failing."

  “Fine, fine.” She replied. She wouldn’t have asked if she knew she’d get such a lecture. “So, this noble we’re meeting, who are they?”

  “Elias de Vallier.” Remus replied, scanning a ledger in his hand. “Thirteen years old, same as you, unbetrothed, with a pre-natal sparkday. His mother is Lucette de Vallier.”

  “And the father?”

  “A commoner.”

  Madeline frowned. “So this boy is a halfblood? Remind me again why we're wasting our time out here?”

  Remus sighed.

  “I mean, who cares about some no-named noble?” She added.

  “No one. Which is why he’ll make for good practice. All you have to do is look pretty and say the lines. A small village like this? Just your presence alone is a historical event. If you mess up, no one will care nor notice.”

  “Very well.” Madeline said with a sigh, watching as Daisy spat out the crushed remains of her captured butterfly. “Let’s get this over with.”

  It was midday by the time Hugo returned home, his brother and Eli in tow.

  The princess would arrive soon, the headmaster with her. They had come all the way from the city just to personally invite Eli to the academy. He felt that familiar pang of envy, imagining himself in Eli’s place, accepting his vows, accepting his birthright. He quickly shook the thought from his mind, distracted by the sound of arguing. As they came over the hill he noticed a large group standing in front of their house.

  Tax collectors.

  Streams of chaffling slaves carried bags of grain out of the storehouse, while an old Orthosi man counted each bag on an abacus. He quickly shuffled the wooden beads with learned precision as each bag passed him by. He was dressed in blue and white robes and wore a tenup, a hat that looked like a pillow roll balanced on his head with tassels on either side. The tenup marked him as an administrator from the capital.

  Beside him stood the lord of the village, Eli’s father Armand de Vallier. Hugo’s parents stood on the opposite end of the field, watching with irritation as each bag of their hard earned harvest was carried and laid out onto the grass.

  “Twenty bags.” The administrator called. “At two talents per bag, you’ve reaped only forty talents of grain this harvest.” His tone was admonishing.

  “Look around you.” Hugo’s father replied defensively. “This is a small farm. We are a small family. Twenty bags is our best yield in–”

  “It is not good enough.” The administrator replied sharply, writing something onto a wax tablet. He looked to his group of chafflings. “Take half the bags as tithe.”

  “Half!?” His father roared, and his mother had to hold him back from jumping on the man. “How will we feed ourselves?” She pleaded.

  “Your family is small, as you said so yourself.”

  “The tithe was twenty percent last year.”

  “And now it is fifty.”

  “My lord, this is madness.” His father turned to Armand now, but the lord simply shook his head.

  By the time the three boys reached the field, half the bags had been loaded onto a wooden cart.

  “What’s going on here?” Eli asked.

  “Stay out of this.” Armand warned, immediately recognising the look on his son's face.

  “A fifty percent tithe is absurd, even you must see that father.” Eli argued, and Hugo saw him reach for his wand before reconsidering.

  “It is not my decision to make. This new tithe is ordained from Amar himself.”

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  “And how are these people supposed to survive another year on just ten bags of grain?”

  “That is for your father to solve.” The administrator replied dismissively.

  “And when half the village dies from famine, who will pay your tithe then?”

  “Who are you to question the will of god?” The administrator snarled. “If you take issue with the red dragon's tithe, then take it up with him.” With that the administrator turned to leave. The last of the bags were added to the cart which was already stuffed full with the tithes of their neighbours.

  “I am truly sorry about this.” Armand said to them as he joined the administrator on the cart. “Come along now Elias.” He called. “We must finish this nasty business before the princess arrives. Make sure you’re ready.”

  Eli only glared.

  “Why? Why would Amar do this?” Hugo’s father mumbled once they were gone.

  “It is all a part of his plan.” Hugo’s mother replied reassuringly. “We must trust that. We have to trust in Amar to guide us.”

  “Well while you wait for Amar’s guidance, I will speak to my father.” Eli said sternly. “He can’t be a lord if there is no village left to lord over.”

  Hugo’s father looked at him and Arin with a hollowness in his eyes. “Starting tomorrow we hunt every morning. Pheasant, fowl, or fawn, I don’t care. Do you understand?”

  Hugo looked down.

  “Hugo, do you understand?”

  “Yes father.”

  His parents went inside, leaving them to the changing skies. The sunstar and moonstar sailed across the firmament, painting the late afternoon pink. The princess would be arriving soon.

  “Eli?” He asked.

  Eli looked up at him with raised brow.

  “Do they feed us at the academy?”

  Eli smiled weakly. “More food than you could ever imagine.”

  “I’ll do it.” He said, and the two boys looked at him in stunned silence. “Spark or not, so help me Amar. I’ll take the stupid exam.”

  The first thing Madeline noticed as she stepped off the airship was the smell. The second thing she noticed was the mud. The absence of any airship dock had forced them to land on the grass, and so her first step on solid ground covered her leg in brown sludge.

  “Daisy, wait!” She yelled, as her chaffling sprinted past. “You’ll get mud on your–”

  The chaffling ignored her, running for the nearest puddle and jumping up and down until it covered her dress toe to waist. “Mud! Mud! Mud!” She squealed. Madeline only sighed and left Daisy to her fun.

  She pulled out her wand. A slit in its head caught the wind like a whistle as she waved it through the air, magically creating a spout of water from its tip that showered her muddy shoes clean. “When you said we were going north I was expecting snow.” She said.

  “North of Belm is still just mud.” Remus replied.

  As she shook the water from her dress, she got her first proper look at the place. The village of Applemouth was nothing short of pitiful.

  The settlement consisted of a dozen homes, if you could dare call them that. Wattle walls and thatch roofs sat nestled amongst a patchwork of fenced off fields, gardens, and cattle pastures, while a dirt path snaked its way between them as if looking for an escape. The air was ripe with the pungent stench of manure that permeated every inch of breathable air. The offending sights and smells formed a two-pronged attack upon her senses that had her consider returning to the airship. Her only reprieve was the old church at the village centre, built in worship of her grandfather. Its beautiful stained-glass windows caught the light of the afternoon, depicting some of her favourite scenes from the redbook.

  She drew her attention to the crowd that had gathered, dressed in woollen garbs, tunics, stola, and cloaks. There couldn’t have been more than fifty people living here, and yet it seemed all of them had come to greet her. They watched her with those loaded eyes, bristling with hope and wonder, as if she were a princess from a story book. Even for these commoners, these strangers who meant nothing to her nor no-one else in the world, she still felt the need to act the part, to become the person they envisioned. She heard her mothers voice in her mind, ‘raise your chin, straighten your back, bring back your shoulders, walk like a princess’. Compose yourself. She thought. Smile for the people.

  A middle-aged man stepped forward, wearing clothes that did not befit his station. A silk sash dyed red slung across his shoulder, marking him as a would-be noble. But it did not matter how well he dressed, she could tell he wasn’t true nobility from a glance. His body language, the way he moved his hands, the way he averted his gaze. This one must be the trophy husband.

  “My lady princess.” He said with a bow. “Headmaster.” He gave Remus a nod. “It is a great honour to host you here.”

  “Where is Lady Vallier?” She asked.

  The man paled. “I’m afraid my wife has fallen ill with moonrot as of late.”

  How grand, the one full-blooded noble in this godforsaken village and she wasn’t even here.

  “She has been sent away for recovery.” He added.

  Recovery? She dared not laugh but that made it no less amusing.

  “I am Lord Armand de Vallier, her husband. If you permit, I will take her place in the ceremony.”

  “That will serve fine.” Remus replied. “I am sorry to hear about your wife’s illness. We shall pray Amar guides her recovery.”

  “You grace me with your kind words, headmaster.” The man wrung his fingers between his hands, before gesturing behind him. A young boy stepped forward.

  “This must be your son.” Remus said, and Madeline noticed the boy for the first time.

  Now this was a noble, and the boy knew it. He stood with his shoulders back and his chin raised, entirely absent of self-doubt. His gaze was cold and piercing, as if she were made of glass and he were looking right through her. He's just a lower branch. she told herself. Pull yourself together.

  “Elias de Vallier.” The boy said. He bowed but there was no reverence in it. It was clear in his manner that he did not view himself as beneath her, nor respect her superiority. She could have him burned for that kind of insolence if she could only prove it was there.

  “Shall we begin?” Madeline asked.

  “So soon? I was hoping to show you around the village–” The lord tried.

  “I would love nothing more.” She lied. “Unfortunately, we still have several other nobles to meet with and we can’t leave them waiting.”

  Remus gave her a warning look.

  “Ah, of course.” Lord Vallier agreed. He was quite terrible at hiding his disappointment. “Then please follow me to the church.”

  The church was just as beautiful on the inside as it was on the outside. Honey-coloured limestone pillars framed the rows of wooden pews that could seat the entire village. The pink light of afternoon bathed the church in red light when cast through its enormous stained glass windows. At the front of the church hung a giant five pointed star carved from wood. A carving of the red dragon coiled around the star, roaring into the arched ceiling.

  The villagers seated themselves, while she joined Remus, the noble boy, and the lord at the church front. It was finally starting to feel like a real ceremony.

  “Lord Armand de Vallier, on behalf of your wife Lady Lucette of House Vallier, and with her highness as witness, do you consent to your son's study of the magical arts at Mirion academy, as is his noble birthright?” Remus spoke the words elegantly, his voice echoing across the church.

  The lord's trepidation gave way to a swell of pride. “I do.”

  Remus nodded, before turning to the boy. “Elias de Vallier, with her highness as witness, do you accept this invitation to study the magical arts at Mirion academy, as is your noble birthright?”

  “I do.” The boy said flatly.

  Remus nodded before continuing. “Elias de Vallier, with her highness as witness, do you consent to skip the academy's entrance examination, as is your noble birthright?”

  Madeline suppressed a yawn. ‘Exam’ was a misnomer really. It was intended more as a form of entertainment than any fair test of skill, which was precisely why the nobility were permitted to skip it entirely. The boy would say yes, just like every noble did.

  Instead, she watched as he went quiet, seemingly distracted by something, or someone, in the crowd.

  “I do not consent.” Eli replied.

  A wave of hushed whispers and murmurs fell upon the church.

  Well that was quite something. Madeline had never seen a noble willingly attend the exams before. But this farce was no more amusing than it was insulting.

  “Please forgive him.” Lord Vallier stammered. “My son can be–”

  “I would like to attend the entrance exams, along with the other commonfolk.” Eli interrupted.

  “May I ask why?” Remus asked.

  The boy frowned in thought. “I don’t think it’s fair. Why should I be permitted entrance? Because of my mother? She’s not even here. I would like to prove myself worthy, not because of my blood, but because of my own merit.”

  That was a lie. She could spot it immediately. But why? What reason could he have to attend the exam? Madeline looked at the headmaster for his reaction, and saw in his eyes something she hadn’t seen in a long time. Excitement. A hunger. Something this boy had done had impressed him.

  She bit her lip. She was the princess. She had the blood of dragons in her veins. She was to be the greatest mage in history, greater even than Remus himself.

  So why had he never looked at her like that?

  The airship ride home was quiet. Madeline collapsed on her bed as she rolled the day's events in her mind. There had been some commotion after the ceremony, some of the villagers had even threatened to fight the noble boy for his insult. But just as he had the birthright to skip the exams, he had the birthright to take them too, or so Remus had said.

  “Hug?” Daisy asked. Madeline nodded, and enjoyed the warmth of their embrace. Chaffling or not she still felt human and that was good enough for her. They sat on the bed together as she allowed Daisy to brush her hair.

  She replayed that look Remus gave. What was it?

  It wasn’t just excitement. He was proud of the boy. Why? And why that boy? Why Eli? Why did Remus always have to treat her like a little girl, like a nuisance, a burden.

  Madeline stood, and stormed off to find him.

  She knocked on the door of his study, and entered before he could reply.

  “Yes?” Remus asked, looking up from his desk. There it was. That look. He was looking right past her.

  “I’ve decided.” She said.

  Remus looked back down at his parchment, deciding it was more important. “Decided what?”

  “I reject my birthright.”

  Remus paused, looking up. Looking at her.

  “I’m going to take the entrance exams with the other commonfolk.”

  “Inspired are we?” Remus said with a grin. Flat, mocking even. Absent of the same fire that Eli had caught. But that was fine. She would just have to earn it, she would just have to prove to him that she was worthy of his gaze.