1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

F rom 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 same skills. 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?"

It was natural for Redmond to crave recognition, but he needed a reminder of what was important. "Our skills may not be as glamorous, Redmond, but they are powerful and effective against our enemies." It was not an exaggeration. "Mirror magic may be spectacular, but its applications are limited at this point."

Then, thinking he might sound dismissive, he added, "Mirror magic has tremendous potential, but we are not at a point where we know what to do with it."

Redmond sighed. "I suppose so. But transporting oneself through a mirror is an astonishing feat."

Darcy recalled the first time Riquer had demonstrated his mastery of Mirror magic. He had astonished the Council by arriving through the mirror above the fireplace, right in the middle of a private Council meeting.

"It is. No doubt about it. Riquer has used it in the past to excellent effect. Unfortunately, there are practical limitations. Walking around carrying a looking glass with you everywhere you go is complicated and dangerous. Communicating with someone else requires looking at a mirror constantly. Traveling long distances using a mirror is a risk. You could arrive in the wrong place. It is still a crude weapon at this point."

Redmond grinned. "Still, I would love to be able to master it, and I am sure you would, too. You are jealous. Admit it."

Only his Janus Twin could speak to him like that and get away with it. "Of course, I would love to learn Mirror magic. So would everyone else around us."

"I am going to ask Mrs. Darcy to teach me," he said, standing up.

Well, it was a vast improvement. At least Redmond now respected what Elizabeth had to offer.

As Redmond left, Darcy's gaze turned to Elizabeth and bit down a curse. While Darcy was speaking to his Twin, Lord Devereux had pushed his way past the apprentices and was standing next to Elizabeth. Devereux was a pompous bully who was vocal in his contempt for Elizabeth. After Devereux insulted her in public when they were in Netherfield, Darcy had challenged him to a duel. The memory of that painful fight was still fresh in his mind. Devereux had almost killed him.

Trouble was brewing. Darcy pushed his chair back and strode forward, ready to confront Devereux. He gritted his teeth as Devereux said something and Elizabeth's expression grew stormy.

Then suddenly, Riquer turned around and threw up the wooden ball. Elizabeth raised her mirror instinctively in response. The milky surface of the mirror distorted and drew in the ball. The apprentices who witnessed it close up surged forward to look for the ball in the mirror, shoving and elbowing each other to get a better view. Meanwhile, Elizabeth had already forgotten about Devereux. She was laughing as the younger ones reached out to touch the mirror and encountered a hard glass surface.

Devereux moved away from the press of bodies, a sneer on his face. The distraction had served its purpose. Darcy returned to his seat, glad Elizabeth had not needed his assistance, though he would have happily planted a fist in Devereux's face. Riquer had been paying attention to what Elizabeth was doing. He had immediately stepped in to stop a potentially unpleasant scene. Reluctantly, Darcy conceded that the intervention was handled very smoothly, but he felt a strange twisting sensation in his stomach. He would not have handled it so well.

The event brought out the simmering sense of dissatisfaction he had been experiencing since they had returned to Founders' Hall. Darcy and Elizabeth were barely spending any time alone with each other. Their days were filled with a relentless process of drilling, instructing and Council Meetings at night. Even during their early morning training sessions, Redmond was always present.

Since he had appointed her as one of his advisors after her heroic actions, the Prince Regent had taken a personal interest in Elizabeth's advancement in Mirror magic. He had decreed that Mirror magic should be taught at Founder's Hall to as many apprentices as possible. He was invested in setting up a whole division of Mirror mages. Easier said than done. Between them, Elizabeth and Riquer had worked hard to produce several simple spells to be added to the Compendium of Spells, the book that all the mages in the Kingdom studied. Unfortunately, so far, they had not identified any apprentices at Founder's Hall with a natural Talent in this area. They were now involved in a search for apprentices at nearby academies. In addition to this, Elizabeth was under pressure to learn Mirror magic as quickly as possible.

So, between testing apprentices from other academies, teaching elementary spells, developing her own skills at Mirror magic, and her training with him and Redmond as a Janus mage, Elizabeth had no time to herself. And precious little time to spend with him.

There was only so much a man could take. What was the point of being married? He spent his nights dreaming of the day when they could finally be together. It had been more than a year, yet they were no closer to being properly married than they had been at the beginning.

Seeing her constantly while knowing he could not have her was a burning torment. He hated the constant battle to conquer his need for her. At the beginning, he had thought himself perfectly capable of overcoming it, but it had a terrible habit of suddenly gripping him by the throat and bringing him to his knees.

As if sensing his thoughts, Elizabeth suddenly looked over to where he was standing, sparing a moment for him amid all the admiration, and his heart glowed with the warmth of her gaze. Every muscle ached with the strain of preventing himself from running to her and enfolding her in his arms.

The moment did not last. A young apprentice addressed her, and Elizabeth looked away, leaving Darcy with a sense of lonely emptiness. He drew in a deep breath, tugging at his neckcloth, and trying to rid himself of the despair. Suddenly he could not bear to be in the room a moment longer. He felt hemmed in, unable to breathe. He needed fresh air.

Just in time. As Darcy reached the edge of the Great Hall, Lord Matlock's voice rang out, asking for silence. The apprentice exhibitions were about to start. Darcy had no intention of attending. He needed time to himself.

As he reached the doorway, he stopped a footman and requested him to fetch a plate of food from the kitchen for Elizabeth. Having expended so much magical effort, Elizabeth would be hungry and exhausted, and they would not be serving dinner until all the other demonstrations were completed. Darcy then made his way to the castle entrance, and stepped out into the darkness, allowing it to envelop him.

Sometime later, Darcy was roused from his thoughts when the strike of a foot against gravel alerted him to the presence of someone else. That would hardly be unusual, since there were soldiers and mages patrolling the grounds. What immediately aroused Darcy's suspicion however, was that the person was a mage, and they were using a Cloaking spell.

Darcy went completely still, trying to make out where the other mage was positioned. There was no moonlight, but a faint candlelight from inside revealed a figure heading towards the trees. All Darcy's senses went into full awareness, his skin prickling, his magic gathering in preparation for a spell. For the second time tonight, he considered that the Prince Regent's presence at Founder's Hall made the hall a target.

Darcy followed stealthily, regretting that his ability to stalk someone silently was rusty from lack of training. Sticking to the grass so his footsteps could not be heard, he skirted the area where the intruder had gone. Once he reached the trees, he darted behind them, watching for any sign of movement.

It did not take long for Darcy to find the cloaked mage. The sound of men's voices reached him. He drew closer, then stopped suddenly. It was Riquer's voice, and he was speaking in French.

Darcy froze and he struggled with the implications. Who was Riquer speaking to? There was no sign of another man. The voice was muffled. Riquer must be communicating through his mirror. What was Riquer up to? Was it possible he was still in communication with the Imperial Mages?

The image of the wooden ball rushing towards the Prince Regent popped into Darcy's head. Could Riquer be plotting a French attack?

A sense of urgency gripped him. Darcy recited an enhancement spell so he could hear what Riquer was saying, but Riquer's Cloaking spell prevented it. He tried to listen for familiar words so he could at least guess the topic of the conversation, but it was useless.

He stood there for some time, his pulse thundering in his ears. Was the Hall in immediate danger? Should he raise the alarm right now? He was torn. Could Riquer really be such a traitor? What if Darcy sounded the alarm, sending everyone into panic, and it turned out to be nothing?

In the end he decided it was not his decision to make. He would take the information to his uncle, and the Master Mage would make the decision.

He hurried back to the Great Hall, moving as quickly as possible. As he neared the entrance, he turned a corner and ran smack into Riquer, who was uncloaked now.

If Riquer knew Darcy had heard him, and he was a traitor, there was no chance he would allow Darcy to return to the Hall and report what he had just witnessed.

Darcy spun around and prepared to fight for his life.