The morning started out strangely calm, the first calm morning Nottie and Harold Thompson had experienced in about a week. They ate breakfast together quietly, with the newspaper and Nottie’s sketchbook laying untouched between them. Nottie had already spent half an hour changing clothes, trying to decide what was appropriate for a royal parade, and she felt strangely twitchy in the unfamiliar dress she was wearing now. She kept getting startled by the click of her nice shoes against the kitchen floor. Usually, she only wore socks at home. Across the table, her father was looking at his hands with a sort of soft smile. His eyes glanced up to Nottie, and though she quickly looked down, he gave a quiet chuckle and tried to get the conversation going today.
“Think you’ll see that friend of yours?”
“Dev said he wanted to show us the inside of the carriage,” Nottie answered. “I don’t know if he meant before or after the parade, though.”
“He’s not really a think-ahead sort of boy, is he?”
“No, he isn’t,” Nottie giggled. “He really is nice, though. He’s been writing every morning. I think he doesn’t have other friends in the city. He keeps asking if I’m going for school or not.”
“You haven’t decided?” Harold asked, the lilt of his voice underscoring his doubt.
“I don’t want to just leave you. It’s a big move!” said Nottie. “I don’t know when I’d be able to come back, you’d be all by yourself out here, that’s hardly fair—”
“And it’s hardly fair to you to be worrying about me,” Harold pointed out. Nottie stopped speaking mid-word, turning silently to her shoes with flushed cheeks. “We—”
“Ready to go, Notburga?” Mrs. Fairlie called, swinging the kitchen door wide open with a loud bang that made Nottie jump in her seat. “Coming, Harold? You really should come along. Benjamin Jowett is going, says Eleanor Muggeridge can put on a right good show when she’s in the mood. I’m still sorry I missed them here all those years ago.”
“I don’t know, Marjory,” Harold started, but Nottie looked up again quickly and said, “Please, Da?”
“You sure you want me there, sweetheart? It’s alright if you want to be with your friend.”
“Please come,” Nottie repeated. “I’m sure Dev will be busy, and it would be fun if we could walk around the city together or something. Come?”
“Alright,” Harold agreed after a moment of watching his daughter. “Alright, Marjory, spell for three to Kingston. We’re all ready to go here.”
Nottie waited for her father to walk around the table, taking his hand as he passed her, and walked with him outside after the bustling Mrs. Fairlie. The chalky magic was sparkling brilliantly, a perfect reflection of Mrs. Fairlie’s twittering excitement, by the time father and daughter had stepped up to the spell. Harold took a deep calming breath.
“Have you gone by magic before, Da?” Nottie asked quietly.
“I’d hoped I was done with the stuff, personally, but this is a special occasion. Don’t mind me, pumpkin,” he replied under his breath. “At least it doesn’t take long.”
Nottie squeezed his hand in as comforting a way as she could manage, then reached around to Mrs. Fairlie, who was holding out hands to them both.
“You both know what to do now. I’ll count,” she said. “One! Two! Three!”
Nottie had somewhat forgotten how windy Mrs. Fairlie’s magic felt, since Nora had set up most of the transit spells she had taken in the past week. She gripped her father’s hand very tightly until they landed, and leaned into him to keep them both mostly-upright when they landed. Mrs. Fairlie did not attempt to help hold them steady.
“Western Gate, just outside the city, market district’s just down the street, oh I have been meaning to pick up a new pot. We just don’t have a good metalsmith in Portown these days.”
Nottie and Harold watched, a little befuddledly, as Mrs. Fairlie hurried away down the street, completely oblivious as to whether or not anyone was following her.
“We can find someone else to get us home, I’m sure,” Nottie said reassuringly.
“Let’s plan on that,” Harold agreed. “Know where you’re going?”
“Not at all,” Nottie said. “But Dev told me to meet him by the docks. They’re storing the carriage there, then going up along the river and through the market to the palace.”
“Think we can find that?” asked Harold, squeezing her hand gently.
“Sure thing,” Nottie returned.
They asked directions from the guard at the gate anyway, who told them it was a clear shot if they just followed the river, and even pointed out where they could catch a ride for a few coins. Since she had no idea how long it would take to cross the city, and this was sure to get them there in plenty of time, Nottie convinced her dad to hail one of the carriages with her. The driver was pleasant enough, though he chatted the whole way about the parade of magic soldiers three days before, throwing in details Nottie knew to be false, like a full platoon of mounted mercenaries, and a great battle in the palace courtyard. She denied or confirmed his tales to her father by shaking her head and nodding respectfully, while Harold made a winking game of seeing what all the driver pretended to recall. He had the poor man swearing that the four Randolph siblings had led the charge with flaming swords by the time they stepped off at the docks. His carriage was immediately full again, and he took off without noticing his passengers’ muffled laughter. Nottie had just enough time to calm herself and begin to wonder where to go next when a familiar voice shouted from behind her.
“You’re here!”
Dev was hugging her before she had even fully turned around.
“Let the poor girl breathe, princeling!” another voice called, as a short woman with lovely golden ringlets poked her head outside a nearby warehouse door. “Come on inside! Don’t draw a crowd or Nora will kill you!”
“Coming!” Dev called back, grabbing Nottie’s wrist. She had just enough time to take her father’s hand again over his sputters of “I can just wait here,” before being tugged into the warehouse.
“Welcome back to Kingston! It’s a little easier to traverse when we’re not filling the place with illusion magic. You must be Harold Thompson, and I recognize you, Notburga, good to see you. I’m Triss Daniels, Advisor Muggeridge’s sister. She’s told me a fair bit about you both now.”
“I expect she has,” Harold replied. Nottie could see his cheeks flushing slightly under his beard, and squeezed his hand again. “She’s doing well?”
“Best I’ve seen her in years. The time off to reflect did her some good, I think. She’s getting the carriage set up. They didn’t get to use it for any of the festivals this year, so all the spells have worn out,” Triss told them.
“Come over here, Nottie!” Dev interrupted, pulling on her arm again unexpectedly. “I want to show you the carriage! Pickett said you could come up!”
“Okay, okay!” Nottie agreed, throwing an apologetic look over her shoulder to her father, but Triss had her hand on his arm, and was trying to engage his attention. So Nottie let herself be pulled to the back of the warehouse, past a huddle of guards and a group of costumed dancers, some of whom looked very young. The royal carriage was easy to spot, as it was by far the largest vehicle there. On the deep blue and gold decorated wood, there was room for four to sit abreast, high atop a platform that Nottie could not see a way onto.
“Around here,” Dev said, tugging her to the back of the carriage. “We all have to load on in here, because we can’t climb over the sides. Well, not regally, at least. But it was built for parades, so there’s a panel that slides out, then covers the entrance. I found her, Pickett! She’s here!”
Nottie followed behind Dev up a narrow set of stairs in the back of the carriage, which let out beside a low bench seat in the front, where Pickett was sitting with a stack of letters.
“Are you still working?” Dev asked her in shock.
“I have a lot to catch up on,” she replied. “It’s been an unproductive month for me. Hello, Notburga. Pleasant trip? We’re very glad you could make it back for the celebration.”
“Thank you. Mrs. Fairlie got us here.”
“Pleasant enough then, or at least quick enough,” Pickett surmised, smiling. “Make certain you say hello to Nora while you’re here. She wanted to know how you’re doing after all that excitement. She’ll be out from under the carriage in a minute.”
“Is Malik down there, too?” Dev asked with a wicked sort of grin.
“You know,” Pickett replied, putting down her work, “I haven’t seen him in a few minutes.”
“Very funny, both of you.”
Fluff-haired, barefoot, and futilely trying to smoothe out her skirt, Nora Muggeridge looked quite as disheveled as Nottie had remembered her, though there was a sparkle in her eyes and a flush to her cheeks that seemed new.
“Good to see you made it. Marjory?” she asked.
“Yes,” Nottie said. “Only, we’ve sort of lost track of her.”
“Thank goodness,” Nora laughed. “I’ll set up transit for you and your father when you’re ready to depart. No need to hunt down Marjory. Just stick nearby to Triss and she’ll make sure you can get through to me. Andrew has prime seats for the parade, up on the balcony above Grunnold’s, free drinks and all, courtesy of the paper. Well, free drinks for those old enough, anyway. You’ll have a fantastic view.”
“You’re not riding with us?” Dev interrupted. Nottie shrunk back a little automatically in the awkward silence that followed, while both Pickett and Nora turned raised eyebrows to Dev. “What? She helped!” he protested.
“Yes, Notburga helped us in many ways,” Pickett agreed.
“So she should be part of this!”
“It’s really alright, Dev,” Nottie interrupted. “I don’t need—”
“But you helped! You’re the reason we’re all here! If we aren’t celebrating you, then what are we doing?” he asked.
“Nottie,” Nora said in a loud voice that interrupted Dev’s arguments. “Would you like to join us?”
“On the carriage?” asked Nottie quietly. Nora nodded. “I think…” she looked briefly to Dev’s hopeful expression, and tried to give him a smile. “I think I’ve spent enough time away from my da lately. I should stay with him.”
“But—!”
“I want to stay with him,” Nottie corrected herself, glancing back to Pickett and Nora for encouragement. “Really, Dev. I’m fine just watching. Seeing a show is more fun for me than being in one is.”
“I can understand that,” agreed Nora before Dev could say any more. “We’ll be certain to meet up with you as soon as we’re all back at the palace. Don’t worry princeling, I won’t let her leave without saying goodbye.”
“But… I…” Dev turned from Nottie to Nora, then back to Nottie, to Pickett, and to Nottie again, vainly trying to contain his disappointment. “You’re sure? I… It would be fun… to have you here…”
“You’d better wave to me when you pass by,” Nottie told him. “You know where we’ll be standing and what we all look like. You won’t miss us. So wave for me.”
Dev hesitated, clearly wanting to protest more, but unable to think of anything else to say. He slipped a disappointed glance Pickett’s way before saying, “I promise. I’ll be sure to make everyone salute you.”
“There’s some Royal Privilege for you,” Nora snorted. “Alright, everyone off. I need to test the controls on this thing, and it’s going to be bumpy at first. You can leave your papers, Pickett, if you don’t mind them getting jostled.”
“I think I’ll stick them under the bench,” replied Pickett. “Come along, both of you. If Nora thought this would be enjoyable, she wouldn’t have told us to move.”
Nottie led the way back down the narrow stairs, Pickett guiding Dev gently by his shoulder after her. As soon as they were all back on the warehouse floor, Pickett knocked hard on the side of the carriage, and it began to shake.
“Good, there you are.”
Nehemiah Smedley came bustling their way, straightening the silver circlet on his head as he did so, and looking rather annoyed. “Raul’s nearly ready, and he has your circlets, Pickett. Have you seen Nora?”
“She’s on the carriage already. Would you stop fretting? This is meant to be fun,” Pickett laughed.
“I will enjoy myself once we are moving. Until then, someone needs to keep to a schedule.” He looked up as the carriage beside them jerked unexpectedly. “Oh, Malik, is this really the time?” he groaned.
“Time for what?”
Nehemiah’s brow furrowed as his eyes widened, and he glanced from Malik, who had just appeared behind him, quickly to the carriage again, which was now moving shakily back and forth about six inches.
“She’s fixing up the spells,” Pickett informed him. “Should have it moving smoothly in a minute.”
“Nevermind, then,” muttered Nehemiah quickly. “Are the guards ready to march?”
“On your orders,” Malik said, giving a very cheeky salute. “Or is Raul calling the shots today?”
“Raul is giving the commands, as he does every day,” Nehemiah replied. “Glad though I am to have Eleanor back, I’m beginning to miss the seriousness you showed in her absence.”
“Mom disagrees.” Malik waved his hand once by his father’s face with a wink. Nehemiah waved it aside.
“Rank and file, Malik. Rank and file!”
“Yes, sir!” With a bow that felt quite as mocking as his earlier salute, Malik hurried back to the front of the warehouse, though he made certain to ruffle Dev’s hair before he left. As Nottie watched him go, she saw Triss reach up her hand, clapping against Malik’s in what appeared to be a well-practiced tag.
“We should head on. Coming with us, Nottie?” Triss called.
“Yes!” Nottie shouted back. “I’ll be waiting for that wave, Dev!” She grinned over her shoulder at him, and did her best not to notice the way he leaned after her, clearly wanting to follow. Pickett held his shoulder still, smiling gently. When she reached Triss, Nottie took her father’s hand again, a glad and warm feeling building in her chest when he gave it a soft squeeze. Her da needed her now. Dev would be fine.
“We’ve got great seats for the parade,” Triss said, looking over her shoulder to lead and talk at the same time. “I was just telling your father about my family. Well, the ones he hasn’t met yet. Andrew should be in place with the boys already. Anything you say is off the record today, so don’t worry about ending up on the front page.”
“The front page?” Nottie asked, “Nora said something about the paper, but I’m afraid I don’t know…”
“And how should you? You barely know any of us!” Triss laughed. “My husband is a reporter for the Kingston Local, with special connection to the palace. He’ll be writing up the parade for the national press. It’s why we have good seats, so he can see everything well. But as I’m his ‘special connection’ most of the time, I don’t mind taking advantage of his perks.”
Outside the warehouse, the docks were suddenly crowded with people, parents entertaining small children, young couples holding hands, all vying for the best view. Nottie saw a little boy lifted onto his father’s shoulders, shouting happily about kings and princes and magic. For a moment, inexplicably, she was reminded of her mother. Looking up to her father, she thought his eyes might be misty, too.
Triss knew how to avoid most of the crowds, however, taking back streets that left Nottie and her father completely turned around. She chatted the entire walk, mostly in monologue, but it was a comforting sound. Triss had a contagious sort of energy that left Nottie smiling, even when she was just being told about the week’s weather. They entered Grunnold’s tavern from the rear door, servers calling out their greetings, and patrons patting Triss’ arms kindly as she swept through. She waved the Thompsons up a wide set of wooden stairs, through the quieter upper dining area, and out onto a balcony that jutted out from the roof. A short man, who was somewhat pale and stocky, was corralling two tiny boys up here, all three laughing and singing. Andrew Daniels had hair as curly as Triss’, but his was a bright, nearly unnatural red color. The two children’s fine curls were a warm mix of the gold and orange.
“Glad you got out of the house alright!” Triss shouted, dropping to her knees. The two boys came barreling her way so fast that they nearly overshot and knocked into Harold Thompson. “Careful, Jacob! Henry! Oh goodness!” She fell over laughing as the twins tried climbing up on their mother’s shoulders simultaneously.
“One of you is going to have to deal with me,” Andrew said. He sounded very out of breath, and his clothes were full of the wrinkles of play. Behind him, Nottie could see a blue sash and brown jacket carefully folded over the back of a chair that was overlooking the balcony rail. “Come here, Jakey, you got your mother’s shoulders last time.” Lifting one of the two boys, who Nottie could not tell apart except by their different colored shirts, onto his hip, Andrew extended a hand and a broad smile to Nottie.
“You must be Miss Notburga. A great pleasure. I’m Andrew Daniels, certain you know the connections by now. And Harold, yes? How is Portown these days?”
“Hello, sir,” Nottie said, with no idea what more to add. Thankfully, her father seemed much more comfortable away from the city streets.
“Harold Thompson, yes sir. I know your name from the Weekly. Portown doesn’t change much, especially on the North side and by the docks. Family there?”
“Grandparents. We used to go for Harvest and Midsummer. Haven’t been out there in years now, though. Got to report out here during the festivals.”
Nottie listened in politely for as long as she could, which was nearly twenty minutes. Her father was perfectly happy to discuss politics, trade, and stories of old family friends in Portown with someone who wasn’t Marjory Fairlie for a change, but Nottie could only keep up this sort of small talk on subjects and people she didn’t know for so long. Eventually, quietly, she stepped aside to pick one of the four chairs by the balcony rail for herself. Below, the streets were very crowded now, with the sounds of distant instruments starting to echo forward. For a minute, she watched the mingling people below, wondering if maybe she should have stayed with Dev after all. He was probably lonely with the adults on the carriage, too.
“You’re pretty special, you know.”
Triss pulled a chair closer, sitting with little blue-shirted Henry on her knee, and holding him around the stomach as he peeked over the balcony rail.
“I used my potential already,” Nottie replied quietly. To her surprise however, Triss laughed.
“Nora doesn’t seem to think so. That big event you were a part of has passed, but you’re more than one thing that happens in your life.” Triss readjusted the boy on her lap, pulling him back away from the railing before continuing. “My sister isn’t easy to look after. Even Pickett barely manages it most of the time, and Pickett Randolph is matriarch of the largest family in Ampany. But you were able to calm her, to help Nora get through what was probably the worst time of her life. You’ve given me my family back, more whole and happy than I’ve had it in a long time. You’re pretty special.”
“She didn’t really have a choice,” Nottie pointed out.
“Of course she did,” Triss replied. “I can’t think of a single person I know that could have convinced her to stay put for that long, Malik excluded, of course. Something about you made her feel safe, and that kept her out of trouble long enough for her to find her way home. She’s very much hoping you’ll stick around.”
“Really?” asked Nottie.
“Really. Dev wants a friend, too, mind you, and he’s the one who will beg you to stay, but Nora’s got a soft spot for you that I’ve only seen her give to one other person.”
Triss waited for Nottie to look around, brow creased, and ask, “Who?”
“Me.”
Nottie had no words, no clear thoughts or response to this, though there was a lightness and tightness in her chest at the same time, which was warm, fluttery, and full. Thankfully, at precisely that moment, tiny Henry squirmed to standing on Triss’ lap and began to shout “Magic! Magic!”
Nottie’s attention whipped around automatically, looking up the street, where indeed, flashes of icy blue could be seen reflecting off the crowds and buildings ahead. She thought she might also be able to see the marching guards in formation in front of the carriage.
“They’re almost here, Andrew!” Triss called over her shoulder. “Someone’s convinced Nora to go all out.”
“That’ll be Malik, bet you dinner!” Andrew laughed.
“I’m calling Nehemiah, you’re on!”
Triss and Nottie shuffled left to make room for Andrew and Nottie’s father beside them. Somehow, to Nottie’s great amusement, Harold was talked into hoisting Jacob on his shoulders so Andrew could more easily take his reporter notes. Jacob was thrilled to be lifted so high in the air, while Henry was satisfied by the idea that he would be able to see the parade first. Standing beside her father, the warm fullness still fluttering in her chest, and beginning to heat in her cheeks, Nottie found herself suddenly quite as eager for a parade as the twin toddlers on either side of her.
As the parade approached, the street cleared below, the crowd of people selling food and trinkets pushed on down the street and back against the buildings on either side, taking their patrons with them. First in line were a trio of acrobats, back-flipping and twirling along the street, dressed in royal blue uniforms that swung lightly around their bodies. Behind them, the guard marched in line, fifty of them in ten rows of five, silver armor, bright and shining and surely ceremonial, gleaming in the late summer sun. Near the front, Nottie could see Malik, half-a-head taller than his fellows on either side. Every few steps he peeked over his shoulder to the carriage behind. Eager and giggling to herself, Nottie followed his gaze. Though the carriage was still half a block away, it was easy to see Nora dancing atop it. Pickett, Nehemiah, and King Tordault stood in front of the bench, waving in varying levels of cheer and regality to either side of the street. A closer look made her certain that she wasn’t going to be getting her wave from Dev. He was eagerly dancing behind Nora, only just staying off her magic and away from her feet. He clearly didn’t know the steps, but his eagerness was catching, and Nora twirled around him, not seeming to mind him at all. Nottie was still smiling serenely at them, watching the dance with the warmth in her chest swelling up to her face and out to her fingers like a spell, when beside her Triss suddenly shouted at the top of her lungs.
“Go kiss her, you idiot!”
Without even having to think about it, Nottie looked back to the guards, who had already marched past. She found Malik at once. He had evidently heard Triss, as he paused, falling out of step with the rest of the guards. He stood there a second, then the guard beside him gave his arm a shove, not forward, but back. It almost could have been rehearsed, the way the parade parted, cheering, for Malik to rush back through the line, running straight for the carriage. Nottie had enough time to look back at the royalty, see the king laugh, Dev lean over the side of the rail, Nehemiah rub a hand over his forehead, while Pickett whooped so strongly, Nottie thought she could hear it. But Nora was aglow, and it was impossible to turn away from the brightness of her hands, her feet, and her smile. She dashed to the railing on the near side of the carriage, just as Malik reached it. He leapt up, gripping the rails, landing on the wing that projected over the front wheel. Nora was there for him, and she grabbed his shirt with one hand, the back of his head with her other, and lowered her face to meet his. Triss’ shout beside her was deafening, though Nottie could hear Andrew scream “Finally!” on her other side, while the twins squealed and giggled. The carriage kept moving, despite Nora’s distraction, however, and by the time they had broken apart, Nottie could see neither Nora’s nor Malik’s face. What she could see, directly in front of her, was Nora’s hand on the back of Malik’s head, gently wrapped in his braid. Malik was balanced on tiptoe to reach her, and one foot lifted up as though he were floating in joy. With the quickest of glances up to the balcony and a wink to her sister, Nora put her hands around Malik’s arms and tugged him upward. It took a graceless jump on his part, but he managed to get one leg over the carriage railing, then the other. Wrapping his hands around her waist, her arms around his neck, Malik started Nora dancing again, lifting her high so the magic twirled out from her toes for everyone to see. Nottie snuck a glance to Triss to find her rubbing a hand under her nose, leaning onto her husband’s shoulder.
As soon as the carriage had passed, the crowds in the street began to disperse, their laughter drifting distantly up and away. Andrew wrote hurriedly in his notebook for a few minutes while Triss and Harold removed the toddlers from their shoulders, asking them if they’d enjoyed the show.
“We don’t need to wait for me,” Andrew called when Jacob started to pull at his father’s trousers. “I’ve got the basics. I need to interview Pickett anyway if she’ll let me. If you lead the way, Triss, I can get crowd comments while we walk.”
From the sort of large bag that all parents with young children are forced to carry around, two small harnesses were produced. Jacob got the favored perch on his mother’s hip this time, while Henry quietly accepted being hoisted into place on his father’s back. The process took less time than Nottie would have guessed.
“You’re quite good at getting them in there. Olivia and I always struggled with those things,” Harold commented to Nottie’s embarrassment.
“Twice the practice helps,” Triss replied. “Shall we? It’s not far.”
She was right, though the few blocks took them twenty minutes to traverse with Andrew stopping to talk to passerby and Nottie getting distracted by window after window of city shops. A bakery they passed smelled twice as good as the treats inside looked, and a metalsmith’s storefront gleamed with copper and silver. Nottie dearly wanted to go inside until her father reminded her that Mrs. Fairlie was looking for a shop like that and might be within. She quickly decided it could wait for another day. She would definitely be coming back to Kingston.
The palace courtyard was crowded with people — well-wishers and journalists, family members and city visitors — all pushing forward eagerly to the open palace doors. Nottie heard Triss mumble, “should have shut the gates”, but they pressed forward with everyone else. Nottie took hold of her father’s hand to keep them from getting separated. In front of the doors were three people, shaking hands and trying to talk loud enough to be heard. She recognized Nehemiah Smedley, his braid starting to fray, though his posture was regal and his clothes unwrinkled from the carriage ride. Beside him stood a tall, very muscular guardswoman who was using her bulk to block the doorway from too-curious visitors. On her other side was a thin woman with large, frizzy grey hair and a long pointed nose, who reminded Nottie at once of Pickett Randolph. She was speaking to a small group of elegantly dressed men who seemed very interested in the hallway behind her. Nottie couldn’t hear what she was saying, but her speech was accompanied by large hand gestures that the men kept having to step back from, herding them away from the open doorway. Triss and Andrew pushed their way towards her, Nottie keeping close enough in their trail to stay in the path they cleared. At the doors, they parted ways, Andrew turning to take notes on what Nehemiah was saying while Triss tapped the grey-haired woman on her shoulder.
“It’s the Thompsons, Kite,” Triss whispered, only just loud enough for Nottie to hear. The woman, Kite, waved her hand grandly in front of her face, making the man closest to her stumble backwards to keep her from whacking his nose. The gesture opened a gap to the palace, however, which Triss slipped through with a “thank you.” She motioned Nottie and her father forward from the other side.
“Just this way, they’re getting food, I’ll bet.”
Down a few steps along the gilded front hall, then right into the wood-walled area Nottie now knew to be the Academy, then right again to a large open room filled with long tables, enormous windows, and a hundred people. The smell of fresh bread and summer oranges made her stomach growl unexpectedly. Everyone around her seemed to be carrying a cloth napkin or small plate piled with bits of food. Dancers and guards and staff walked from table to table, patting each other on the back, pointing out where they’d gotten their food, and talking about the week to come in loud, cheerful voices. Nottie didn’t see anyone she recognized, though Triss was waving to nearly everyone who passed them.
“I thought I might catch you,” a quiet, low voice said evenly beside Nottie. She looked up, even though she didn’t think the comment was directed at her, and jumped to see Amna Smedley standing at her side. “A word? We’ll only be a moment, Patricia.”
“I’ll drag Nora over to you when I find her,” Triss agreed. Nudging Nottie’s shoulder forward, she took off into the crowd, disappearing quickly into the mass of people. Nottie found Amna’s hand on her back a moment later as she was steered to the nearest corner of the room.
“I wanted to ask you about the possibility of attending the Academy here. You’ll be a little behind as term started three weeks ago, but Pickett and I have agreed that you can keep up by joining Devraj’s lessons this term and starting with the rest of the school in the winter if you are interested,” Amna said. Nottie took a deep breath, a little too aware of how closely Amna was watching her. “Do you have any family or acquaintances in Kingston, Mr. Thompson?” she continued. Nottie looked immediately up to her father, who was meeting Amna’s unblinking gaze over Nottie’s head.
“None, and I don’t think Olivia did either.”
“Your wife had a few acquaintances here in the palace, I believe,” Amna reminded him. “In any case, we have dorms available.”
“What’s the tuition?” Harold asked her. Nottie tried to say, “Da!” but Amna spoke over her.
“Negotiable. And we do have scholarship positions for those deemed of merit.” Amna turned her gaze evenly to Nottie’s face for a moment. “I believe your daughter would qualify.”
“Who would we need to speak to about that?” asked Harold, the compliment making his voice steady with pride as he wrapped an arm around Nottie’s shoulders.
“I am on the Academy board,” Amna replied evenly. “We require no further action from you, besides a decision.”
With the eyes of both her father and Amna Smedley on her, however, Nottie could only flush and stammer. She looked back and forth between them, Amna unblinking, her father misty-eyed and proud. After a moment of this, Amna murmured, “I’ll give you a minute,” and turned to face the room at large. Harold Thompson knelt beside his daughter, putting a hand on each of her shoulders.
“What are you waiting for, pumpkin?” he whispered.
“It’s so far,” Nottie said, the words spilling out now that it was just him. “I’ll be so far away and for so long. I don’t know anyone here, I don’t know what to do, what if I’m terrible at it? I’ve never had proper schooling with classes and lessons before. What if —”
“What if it’s great?”
Nottie bit down on her tongue, blinking to make sure she wouldn’t tear up.
“You’ll be able to write,” Harold said. “There are plenty of people here who can send letters to Marjory, and soon you’ll be able to do it yourself. Maybe you can even send them directly, and I’ll only hand her sealed envelopes so it’ll just be us. You’ve got more friends here than you do in Portown. And think of all those shops in the market.” Nottie laughed automatically, grinning at her father’s smile.
“I won’t have money for any of them.”
“You will eventually,” he said. His hands dropped off of her shoulders to clasp hers instead. “Your mother would be so proud.”
“Nottie!”
She turned automatically, the moment over even when her thoughts weren’t ready to let it go. Harold got back to his feet beside her as Dev dashed over, all eagerness and holding three plates of food. He handed one to her and her father each, so quickly that they both almost dropped the over-filled dishes.
“Hello, sir,” Dev remembered to say only when the plates were passed. “Great parade, wasn’t it? We had no idea Malik was going to do that. Pickett won’t stop teasing them. Nora’s going to be bright red all week. She’s supposed to start my lessons again tomorrow, but I asked her to wait for you. When are you coming for school?”
She hesitated again, having just taken a bite of bread from her plate. Dev kept his grin in place while she chewed and swallowed, but it started to falter when she looked to her dad once more. He smiled to her, misty-eyed again, then looked up over the crowd of people. Following his gaze, Nottie could see Triss and Nora making their way slowly to the corner, Malik beside them with his arm around Nora’s waist. He caught her eye with a salute and a grin. She returned it instinctively.
“Are you coming?” Dev asked quietly, the hope in his voice almost pained. Nottie, biting her lower lip, turned to Amna Smedley, still standing a step away. She was not at all surprised to see Amna watching them again.
“When?” she asked.
“Start of next week,” Amna said, a hint of a smile in the corners of her mouth. Nottie gave a shaky nod.
“Start of next week,” she repeated. The words weren’t even out before Dev had jumped forward to hug her tightly.
“This is going to be fantastic,” Dev said. And looking around the crowded room of friends and family, she thought he might be right.