A Kiss of Air & Fire (Darkstone Academy)

T he next morning, my stomach churned with nerves and excitement about my impending reunion with Talisa, Mira, and Juno. Despite Menelaus’ fussing, I only managed a cup of tea and a few bites of toast.

The palace’s majordomo and her staff had stocked my closets with a selection of clothes and shoes for all occasions.

I stood in front of a row of gowns, each draped on a mannequin made to my measurements, racked with indecision.

Should I arrive at the Imperial Academy in court dress as a noblewoman? Or masquerade as a court official, clad richly but soberly in the sapphire blue livery of the imperial civil service?

The Divine Mother only knew what my daughters would think, in either case.

In the note I’d sent to them in care of the Imperial Academy yesterday, I’d told them nothing of being restored to my former rank. Only that I’d been a captive of the Duke de Norhas for the past eighteen months, had come to the capital with the Wind- Walkers to defeat the duke, and was currently a guest at the imperial palace.

I wished I still had my own clothes. But those were long gone, discarded by Duke Beltrán’s agents when they abducted me.

Perhaps I could borrow a simpler gown from one of the palace maids?

Jacinthe knocked on my door while I was still dithering in a welter of anxiety. She’d chosen to wear imperial livery, with discreet pearl jewelry and an imperial household badge embroidered in gold thread on her bodice over her heart.

“Is this all right, Mama?” she asked, smoothing her midnight-blue velvet skirts. “The maid said that since you declined a full escort, our guards would prefer us not to draw notice to ourselves.”

I nodded. According to protocol, if I arrived at the academy with a full escort, then Chatelaine Lirelle and her staff would be obliged to receive us with a formal ceremony.

But I wanted to meet with my younger daughters in private and with no fuss, so that we could have some privacy to greet each other and catch up on all that had happened since we last saw each other.

“Yes, it’s a perfect choice,” I said, and made my decision. “I’ll wear imperial livery as well.”

The Imperial Academy for the Magical Arts was located an hour’s drive from the capital. We rode there in a coach, driven by a court mage and propelled by an Air spell. Two taciturn mage-bodyguards, assigned to us by the Head of Palace Security, accompanied us.

To my relief, the gilded imperial eagles painted on the doors attracted no attention as we left the palace and drove east along the broad avenue that led out of the city. Official vehicles were a common sight in the capital, and the citizens ignored anything short of the official coronation coach or highly decorated coach-of-state.

Jacinthe and I discussed our plans for the rebirth of Darkstone Academy during the drive.

I occasionally pointed out landmarks I remembered—the Pantheon of the Twelve Gods, the enormous stadium where the Dominion Championships for Magical Sports were held, and, once we left the suburbs behind, the walled riverside estate of the Imperial Summer Villa.

When our conversation faltered, we both stared out the windows at the passing scenery. I didn’t know what my eldest daughter was thinking, but my mind was racing through dozens of scenarios for my impending reunion.

What have they heard about my return to the capital? Have they guessed that Princess-Royal Jonquil and their Mama, the humble village healer Mage Isabeau of Bernswick, are one and the same?

When we passed through the gates of the Imperial Academy for the Magical Arts, a wave of nostalgia choked me. I drank in the sight of the elegant marble buildings built around large, grassy courtyards, their columned facades gleaming in the spring sunshine.

All around the cluster of buildings, vast parklands stretched as far as the eye could see, dotted with trees.

“It’s going to be a challenge to make Darkstone Academy feel as welcoming as this place,” Jacinthe commented.

“I have some ideas,” I replied as my gut churned with anxiety. “We’ll talk about them later.”

As the coach pulled up in front of the administration building, a stern-looking woman emerged. She wore an elegant gown in imperial blue with the Imperial Academy’s badge on her breast.

“Your Imperial Highness, this is an unexpected honor!” She sank into a deep curtsy as I followed my bodyguard out of the carriage, followed by Jacinthe and her guard. “Lirelle de Plons, at your service. I am the chatelaine of this academy. Your daughters await you in my office.”

My heart raced as we followed Chatelaine Lirelle up the shallow marble stairs and into the building.

The chatelaine’s office door swung open at our approach, and my breath caught. How much have my girls changed since I last saw them?

“Mama! Jacinthe!” called a trio of familiar voices.

Talisa, Mira, and Juno surged forward, their faces alight with joy and disbelief. Jacinthe and I were engulfed in a whirlwind of embraces and tearful exclamations.

“Jacinthe, I’ve missed you so much,” Talisa cried, her voice choked with emotion as she hugged her sister.

At seventeen, she had grown into a striking young woman, her features sharper and more defined than I remembered.

The twins clung to me, their faces buried in my neck. At nearly fifteen, they had blossomed from girls into tall, graceful young ladies.

They were all clean and well-groomed, but shabby. I noticed immediately that all three of them wore the same gowns they’d left home with, with strips of darker fabric where seams and hems had been let out and restitched.

We all cried, and I kissed them over and over again.

At last, when the initial rush of our reunion had passed, I wiped away my tears. “My dearest ones, it makes me happy beyond belief to see you all safe and well. I have so much to tell you!”

“Is it true that you’re really the long-lost Princess Jonquil?” Talisa asked me in a challenging tone.

“Yes,” I said, and added, “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you the truth before. I was afraid it would put you all in danger.”

Talisa pressed her lips together in a displeased line and looked away.

“Does that mean we’re princesses, too?” asked Mira.

“I hope so!” Juno said vehemently. “It’ll teach all those stuck-up aristocrat kids here to respect us!”

I’d never considered what attending the Imperial Academy might be like as a commoner, and felt a surge of guilt.

Chatelaine Lirelle, who’d been waiting patiently just out of earshot, cleared her throat politely. “Perhaps Your Highnesses would like to continue your reunion over tea and sandwiches in my private garden?”

“That sounds perfect, thank you,” I replied.

We followed her out to a secluded courtyard, where a table laden with delicate sandwiches, fresh fruit, and steaming pots of tea awaited us.

“How do you like the Imperial Academy so far?” Jacinthe asked warily when we’d settled ourselves.

Talisa’s eyes flashed with anger.

“I hate it,” she spat. “Everyone here treated us like dirt from the moment we arrived. Called us ‘hicks’ and ‘island savages.’ Made fun of our accents, even though we speak perfect Capitolan.”

Mira and Juno exchanged a glance, their identical faces mirroring each other’s pain. Juno said, “They accused us of pretending to be something we’re not. They told us we didn’t belong here.”

I met Jacinthe’s eyes and saw the same spark of protective fury that surged through me. How dare they treat my girls this way?

Finding out that Jacinthe had been sent to Darkstone Academy as an indentured servant had been bad enough.

But the Imperial Academy was supposed to be the finest educational institution in the Dominion… and its charter proudly stated that it treated all students according to their potential rather than their rank.

Sounds like I need to have a word with Chatelaine Lirelle after this , I thought angrily.

Talisa lifted her chin, a fierce pride in her eyes. “I stood up to them. Defended Mira and Juno. I wasn’t about to let some pampered little lordling push us around.”

Jacinthe grinned. “Good for you!”

Talisa’s next words sent a spike of hot pain through my heart. “And then we heard about Mama’s death,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. “Everything just… fell apart after that.”

“It’s been a nightmare,” Juno added, her voice barely audible. “Papa’s remarriage to that awful Narcissa… and then he died, too. We thought we were all alone in the world.”

So, they know Baldwin is dead. I was glad I wouldn’t have to mar the joy of our reunion to break the news to them.

“We thought we were orphans!” Mira exclaimed.

I was appalled at what they’d just told me of their experiences here so far. I’d enjoyed my years at this academy.

“My brave, strong girls,” I said, leaning forward to put my hands on the twins’ shoulders. “I’m so sorry you’ve been mistreated, and that I left you alone and without protectors. If I could’ve come to you, I would have.”

“I know, Mama,” Juno said, patting my arm comfortingly. Her sisters nodded.

I continued, “But now you know you have family here in the capital—your grandmother would very much like to meet you.” I took a deep breath. “If you dislike it here, would you like to transfer to another academy? Or complete your studies at the palace with private tutors?”

By law, all young people identified as potential mages were required to attend one of the Dominion’s many academies for the magical arts. But exceptions for private lessons had been made before.

A fresh spurt of guilt reminded me I’d promised Menelaus I’d return to Hierapolis with him. But I couldn’t possibly abandon my daughters if they needed me here in the capital.

To my surprise, all three girls shook their heads.

What? I looked at them in disbelief. I would’ve wagered a month of my Bernswick shop’s earnings that the girls would be eager to leave here.

“It’s getting better.” Talisa had always been a terrible liar.

Before I could question her further, she plastered on a fake smile, turned to Jacinthe, and said, “But that’s enough about us. I want to hear about you , Jacinthe. How in the world did you end up with magic? Last time I saw you, you couldn’t even light a candle!”

Jacinthe smiled wryly. “Well,” she began, “it’s a long story. I somehow ended up at Darkstone Academy as an indentured apprentice. Things were… challenging at first. Then I had an accident. I almost died, actually. But somehow, that trauma awakened my magic.”

Her sisters listened, spellbound, as Jacinthe told a brief, highly edited version of her adventures at the isolated prison academy, ending with our reunion aboard Duke Beltrán’s flagship.

When Jacinthe finished, Talisa’s gaze returned to me. “Everyone at the academy has been talking about the Princess-Royal returning from the dead with an army of Dragons to save the capital. That was you , Mama?”

I nodded. “Jacinthe’s father, King Menelaus of the Wind-Walkers, helped us against the Duke de Norhas.”

Mira and Juno exchanged wide-eyed glances, their excitement palpable. “Wind-Walkers?” Juno whispered. “You mean, Dragons?”

“And their king is your father? ” Mira breathed.

Smiling, Jacinthe nodded.

Talisa shook her head. “Jacinthe, you’ve had such incredible adventures. Your life sounds like something out of a storybook. I’d give anything to meet a Dragon!”

Jacinthe’s smile widened. “I could arrange that before I leave the capital.”

She was referring to Boreas, of course. But I wondered if she’d just handed me the perfect excuse for introducing Menelaus to the girls.

“Leave the capital?” Juno asked, looking confused. “But aren’t you coming here to study with us, now that you’re a princess, too?”

The question hung in the air, heavy with expectation.

Given what the girls had told me earlier about their experiences at this academy, I was wondering whether publicly declaring them my daughters was the wisest move.

Jacinthe shook her head. “No. I’ll be returning to Darkstone Academy soon. I have a lot of friends there, and a wonderful mentor.”

Talisa’s dark brows drew together. “You don’t want to be with us?”

“You don’t need me,” Jacinthe replied with a regretful shake of her head. “Now that you’re imperial princesses, you outrank all the other students here.”

Talisa’s eyes widened, and I saw possibilities ticking through her brain.

But I knew how aristocrats thought. If being commoners had made my daughters easy targets for bullying, then a sudden elevation to the imperial family would be even worse.

The girls would spend the rest of their time here surrounded by flatterers and bootlickers eager to exploit a connection to the domina-regent.

Jacinthe laughed and ruffled her sister’s hair. “Use your power wisely.”

“How did you convince the Wind-Walkers to help us, Mama?” Juno asked me. “They’ve hated us ever since we won the war.”

I swallowed hard. Other than telling the girls about Baldwin’s murder, this was the moment I’d been dreading the most. “King Menelaus of the Wind-Walkers is, ah, an old friend of mine,” I reminded her delicately.

Jacinthe threw me a narrow-eyed glance. “He’s more than just a friend, Mama.”

She turned to her sisters. “Remember how I just told you King Menelaus is my father?”

I saw Talisa blanch as the implications finally sank in. “You—you took a Dragon as your lover, Mama?”

My face heated at the shock in her tone. “That was before I came to Bernswick and met your father,” I blurted. “I met Menelaus when he was still a prince. He came to Neapolis Capitola as a diplomatic hostage,” I began.

Talisa and the twins listened with open fascination as I told them the story of my doomed romance with Menelaus, my parents’ reaction to my request to wed him, and my panicked escape from the palace and flight from the capital to the Western Isles.

“Your mama and papa—I mean, the dominus and domina—wanted to kill Jacinthe? Even though she was only a baby? ” Talisa asked, scowling.

“Yes, but your grandmother apologized to us yesterday,” I countered. “I think she’s sincere. And she’s promised to repeal the Supernatural Relations Act.”

Talisa’s scowl didn’t soften. “I don’t think I want to meet her.”

Her tone and her expression reminded me strongly of Mother. If Talisa became an imperial heir, Mother and the officials of the imperial court would have a difficult time molding her into what they wanted.

And it would serve them right , I thought. The Dominion needs fresh blood and independent thinkers.

“Very well,” I said. “You can always change your mind later.”

But speaking of Mother spurred me to ask Talisa, Mira, and Juno the question that had been building in my mind throughout our conversation.

“Now, a further question: do you want Chatelaine Lirelle to announce you’re the domina’s granddaughters? Or would you prefer to continue here in your current identities as three extremely talented but common-born young mages from the Western Isles?”

The girls traded wide-eyed glances. No one spoke.

“I—I don’t know,” Talisa said finally.

“Wouldn’t it be easier if we were princesses?” Mira asked. “At least the aristos here would have to be polite to us.”

“Yes, but only because our grandmother is important,” Talisa shot back. “We already know what they really think of us.”

“Talisa’s right,” Juno said to her twin. “I mean, think of Lukhan… and Damien, too, when we first him.”

I wondered who Lukhan and Damien were, and what they’d done to my daughters.

Mira’s cheeks went red. But she nodded. “I… guess you’re right. But wouldn’t it be nice to have them respect us, even just a little?”

“If I show them I’m as talented with magic as the rest of them, they’ll have to respect me!” Talisa snapped. “But if I use my new rank to force them to respect me, then I’m no better than Lukhan.” Her voice gentled as she reached out to stroke Mira’s light brown hair. “And even if we get special treatment from now on, what about the other commoners, like Elio? I’m sure his parents aren’t secretly royalty.”

I heard the bitterness in her tone. Now I was determined to find out who this Lukhan was.

“But if we’re princesses, no one will dare be mean to us anymore,” Mira pleaded. “I don’t know how you can stand cleaning Lukhan’s rooms. And I’m tired of running love letters between Lady Amaryllis and Lord Evariste. The last time I had to deliver one, he yelled at me in front of all his horrible friends that Amaryllis is too ugly for him, and why won’t she leave him alone?”

A new spear of guilt pierced my chest. No wonder the girls looked exhausted, if they were studying full time and working to earn money for their tuition and fees!

Juno groaned in agreement. “Exactly. Yesterday, Lady Clarimond spilled her inkwell across her desk and then demanded I clean it up, even though she could’ve easily done it herself with a two-second cleaning spell. She sat there smirking at me the whole time and told me if my spell went wrong and I got ink on her expensive lace gown, she’d complain to Chatelaine Lirelle.”

“The decision is yours,” I told them. “If you have any doubts or you need to think about it for a while, it would be easier to remain who you are for now. We can always make a public announcement later.”

“So, Mama, did you attend this academy as a princess-royal?” Talisa’s voice was steady, her gaze piercing.