– freshly spilt blood with its metallic tang. Beneath the hand, something crackled and spat and glowed like hot embers.
When the King withdrew his palm, there was the red weal of a handprint on Scavian’s naked skin, and Emily knew that he would bear it forever, just as Barlocque bore a similar mark across his face, like a birthmark. ‘Rise, Master Scavian,’ the monarch said softly. ‘Rise as a wizard of the King.’
There was still pain in Scavian’s expression, but a fierce pride as well. ‘Your Majesty, my life and my endeavours are yours,’ he declared.
The King nodded slightly, a proud man accepting his due. The next apprentice wizard braced himself, wincing as he prepared for the pain.
A further five times, that terrible power seared from the King’s hand to anoint his new servants, until the room was filled with the hot blood–iron scent, and the air above them danced and shuddered with stray gleams and glimmers of regal power.
And at last the King had spoken his words to each of them in turn, and bid them all rise, and they stood before him trembling and scarred, but possessed also of a new and terrible purpose and power. ‘Now recover yourself, my loyal servants,’ he bade them. ‘I know well that the touch of the royal blood is a terrible burden. More than any, I know it.’
Barlocque ushered his young charges away through the crowd, which stood well back to give them passage.
The room was gripped by silence, the guests looking to the King or after the departing Warlocks. It was a ritual so seldom witnessed, usually performed behind closed doors. He has shown us this to remind us of the power of the Crown, Emily thought. And then: He touched me. She recalled his hand at her waist as they danced, how he had clasped her hand in his, the smooth warmth of his skin. How could she have done that if she had thought about the fire of the sangreal – the royal blood – just beneath the surface.
‘My lady Marshwic,’ the King turned to her, his smile immaculate. ‘What think you of the inner workings of the state?’
‘Could you have . . . burned me?’ She had not meant to say it, but it was out now.
‘Only by my express will does the blood of kings leave me to anoint my chosen, and you must know there are no women amongst my wizards, even though your line has produced Warlocks in the past. You need fear me not, my lady.’
‘The ways of the Crown are . . . mysterious,’ she observed.
‘Compared to the documents, the sealing and the signing, they pale into insignificance,’ said the King, the joke igniting a brief flurry of laughter around the room. ‘My Lady Deerling, there you are. Is your husband not with you?’
And with that the King strolled off amidst the guests eddying around him, leaving Emily feeling quite alone, despite them all.
Never alone for long, though, for now Alice was tugging furiously at her sleeve. ‘I don’t know how you managed that, sister, but I swear it is quite maddening of you.’
‘Maddening?’ Emily blinked at her in puzzlement.
‘That you should speak with the King and not introduce me. Honestly, if he can find favour in such a face as yours, why, I should have quite captured him.’
It was a strange thing, to realize that she had somehow outmanoeuvred her little sister, usually so adept in these gatherings. A spark of cruelty came to Emily, and she said, ‘Why, little sister, perhaps the King’s eyes are as enchanted as his blood, and he sees hearts and not faces.’
Alice pouted furiously, and stamped. Before Emily could apologize, the girl had stormed away, no doubt to start rumours, as was her wont. For once, Emily felt able to ignore her. She felt flushed, weak almost. Too much had happened to her in such a short space of time. The King. The King!
‘My lady, the musicians will soon strike up again. Might I request the next dance of you?’
She looked into the face of a lean, middle-aged nobleman she did not recognize. With the scent of the King fresh upon her, she was suddenly someone, where before they would not have looked twice at her.
‘Alas, my lord, I must rest out this next dance,’ she excused herself, and backed off to the edge of the room. Her mind was full of thoughts now, and she wanted to speak them to someone, anyone. Alice was