Moontangled

  A Harwood Spellbook Novella

  Stephanie Burgis

  Five Fathoms Press

  Contents

  Moontangled

  Afterword

  Acknowledgments

  This novella is dedicated to every single reader who asked me for a story about Miss Banks and Miss Fennell. I appreciate all of you so much!

  Moontangled

  Dressing for a ball would always be a challenge for any lady who found it easier to analyze—from memory—an obscure spell from two centuries ago than to remember which sleeve lengths were currently fashionable across the nation. But dressing for a ball at Angland’s first women’s college of magic, where at least half the dancers were certain to add competitive spellwork to their costumes and the enigmatic local fey were likely to make an appearance? That raised the standards—and the stakes—enormously.

  And when it came to selecting exactly the right outfit to entice one’s own recalcitrant secret fiancée...

  Well, it was lucky that Juliana Banks was used to tackling tricky challenges. It was even luckier that, for the first time in her life, she’d found a whole cohort of fellow women who understood her.

  “Definitely not this gown ever,” Ariana Stewart declared, her head buried in Juliana’s wardrobe.

  Hard on the heels of Ariana’s words, Sujana Rao threw open the bedroom door without a knock and bustled inside, her slim figure nearly hidden behind the massive stack of clothes that filled her arms. “I knew she’d forget!” Sujana dropped her pile onto Juliana’s bed with a tsk. “Don’t bother looking through that pit of horrors, Ariana. I’ve been making notes for weeks about what to offer her tonight when she finally started to panic.”

  “I’m not quite that predictable,” Juliana began...

  ...Just as the door opened once more and Anne Hammersley poked her auburn head inside. “Oh, good! I thought I’d find everyone here. Juliana forgot about the ball, didn’t she? I knew she would.”

  “Ugh!” Juliana collapsed onto the bed with a groan, barely avoiding one of her own gowns that Ariana had tossed aside in disgust. “I did not forget,” she said, “I only...”

  The door opened even further as Willa Koh swept past Anne, a selection of masks dangling from her fingers. “She forgot it was tonight, didn’t she?” said Willa. “Don’t worry! I’ve got plenty of masks to spare. If we all put our heads together, we’ll manage to fit her out nicely in time.”

  It was fortunate, Juliana reminded herself, that her classmates knew her well. It was only ever so slightly humiliating that they understood her so well.

  “I might have remembered,” she mumbled, “if it hadn’t been for—”

  “That end-of-term project that’s not due for two more months?” Ariana inquired, still digging for unlikely treasure in the depths of the wardrobe, beneath Juliana’s excess books and papers.

  “You mean the one she finished two weeks ago but isn’t quite certain is perfect yet?” Sujana rolled her eyes and pulled a sparkling blue and purple shawl from her pile to hold against Juliana.

  “Oh, no.” Anne’s lips curved into a subtle smile as she closed the door and walked soft-footed across the room. Even after all these months, she still carried herself with the hesitation of a scholarship girl uncertain of her welcome among her classmates—but rueful knowledge filled her voice. “I’ll wager she’s already been asking our professors about the projects due at the end of the year.”

  “I don’t believe it’s any of those,” said Willa firmly. “I think she’s doing extra work, separate from our coursework, just for fun. And she’s not even asking for extra credit!” She pointed at Juliana’s guilty expression. “You see? I told you so!”

  As her friends burst into gales of laughter, Juliana groaned and covered her eyes with her hands. “It’s not like that!” she protested. “It’s just—we have only four years to study with some of the cleverest magicians in the nation. So, if I just happened to ask Mr. Wrexham to recommend some added reading...and then those books happened to be particularly interesting, so I went looking in the library for more on the same subject...and then those threw up some particularly complicated equations that I had to work out, which distracted me so I thought we had another week to prepare—”

  “Mm-hmm.” That response came from all four of her classmates at once, and their exaggeratedly weary tone was so outrageous that there really was only one possible reaction...at least for a lady who’d spent all of her life sneak-reading stolen magical texts.

  At the ripe old age of three and twenty, she had finally found a home where she could use all of that formerly forbidden knowledge. So every piece of clothing from the bed and the floor shot up and then scattered, raining down in a heavy, fluttering shower of sparkle and color across four of the women Juliana loved most in the entire world.

  “Ahhh!”

  Screaming and laughing, they beat back the attacking garments with their bare hands...and then the magical battle began in earnest.

  Spells shot across the room, sparkling and fizzing. Fireworks made of light showered overhead, letting off deafening cracks of thunder. Different gowns squared off against each other in mid-air as different women wrested magical control of each. Shawls wrapped themselves tightly around gowns and were beaten away with mask-ribbons.

  It was an all-out, five-person magical duel of light and noise and the kind of joyous, childish silliness that Juliana had never once experienced before she’d arrived here as a full adult, finally safe and free and—

  “Ahem.” The door slammed open.

  Every piece of clothing fell to the floor as five young women froze in mutual, overwhelming panic.

  Cassandra Harwood, the forbiddingly famous, undeniably powerful, and terrifyingly inspiring headmistress of Thornfell College of Magic, stood in the open doorway of Juliana’s bedroom, one brown eyebrow raised as she surveyed the glittering destruction.

  Juliana stared at the woman she’d hero-worshipped for nearly all her life and felt her throat go dry. “I...ah, Miss Harwood, we were—I mean...”

  Frantic glances flew across the room. Ariana said, “We...were preparing for the ball together?”

  “So I see.” Miss Harwood’s lips twitched. “And so I heard from the rooms below, where we are currently entertaining the most prominent gentryfolk of the county, along with our carefully invited visitors from across the nation...and telling them all what serious, trustworthy, and responsible students we are training as Angland’s first class of lady magicians.”

  “I’m so sorry!” Juliana winced. “We never meant—”

  “Next time,” said Miss Harwood firmly, “practice your muffling spells at the same time as your dueling skills, if you please.” Shaking her head, she stepped backwards. “And do make certain your rooms are respectable by the time you leave for the ball tonight, or our poor housekeeper will tear her hair out, and we’ll all be left with sticks for breakfast.”

  The door shut behind her. All five women slumped.

  “Phew.” Sujana threw herself back on the bed, spreading herself starfish-like across the scattered clothes. “I haven’t had such an entertaining battle since the last time my cousins came to visit.”

  “You mean last weekend?” Willa patted her vivid scarlet gown and black chignon back into place. “I thought I heard a ruckus from your room while they were there.”

  Anne was already picking up the clothes from across the floor. “How long do we have left?”

  “Well, if the guests are already here, then...” Ariana’s voice chirped on, bright with interest, but Juliana couldn’t take in a single word that followed.

  The guests are here.

  After all these months apart, Caroline was actually here. In this house. In the floor just below.

  She’s back. Memories cascaded over Juliana from the last visit, when the ruling Boudiccate had assigned Caroline Fennell, the assistant to one of their own most famous members, to their inspection team for Thornfell College of Magic.

  Her eyes fell half-closed, remembering.

  Warm breath brushing softly against Juliana’s throat, tingling against the sensitive skin behind her ear as sensations overwhelmed her from every angle...

  Warm hands sliding possessively up her sides, unbuttoning the bodice of her gown with eager fingers. “Finally...”

  And then that glassy-eyed, utterly distant look just one night later, when Juliana had slipped into Caroline’s bedroom after everyone else had finally fallen asleep. She’d been so desperate to seize their last possible moment together before Caroline was sent off on her next political assignment...

  But the woman who’d been her secret fiancée for years had looked up with a frozen, unnatural expression from the bed, and she had slowly shaken her head. “I don’t think this is a wise idea. Do you?”

  A stab of pain pierced Juliana’s fingers now, and she belatedly realized that she had been clenching them.

  Inside, she’d been clenched with panic ever since that moment, months ago, when she’d backed away in shocked silence and allowed the door to fall closed between them without even knowing why.

  She was only tired and upset. Her aunt—her own mentor!—had been disgraced before all of us. She was grieving. She needed to be alone. That was all.

  But that hadn’t been the last stinging snub, had it?

  No one could be allowed to know yet that they were betrothed, for the sake of Caroline’s political career. Any ambitious lady politician, by national tradition, was expected to marry a magician before she could qualify for the dizzying heights of the Boudiccate—and until recently, the only acknowledged magicians in Angland had all been male.

  Whenever their betrothal was officially announced, the shock and controversy would polarize the nation. If they revealed it to the world too soon, before Juliana even held an official degree in magic, Caroline would be laughed off the political stage for good, her prospects dashed for years to come.

  Juliana had always understood the necessity of discretion. It was why she had tried so hard to carefully ignore Caroline every time they’d met in public over the past year...just as Caroline had so successfully ignored her under everyone else’s gaze.

  But no one else could read the contents of their private letters. So why had Caroline’s missives become so brief ever since her last visit to Thornfell?

  Brief wasn’t the word for those soulless mockeries. She’d written short letters before that Juliana still cherished for their passion. These, on the other hand...these letters were every bit as careless, entertaining, and impersonal as if she’d addressed a casual friend or political connection. Every single one had felt like a slap against Juliana’s unshielded face with her fiancée’s elegant, expensive riding gloves.

  I will fix this, Juliana promised herself. Tonight. I must.

  Despite what her new friends might think, scholarly interest wasn’t the only reason she had buried herself so obsessively in her studies ever since the term began. The deeper she lost herself in her books, the less time she spent agonizing over what else she might be losing...and how she could ever put herself back together again afterwards.

  “Juliana...Juliana!”

  She jerked back to attention to find the other four shaking their heads at her.

  “Thinking about those equations again,” Sujana said dolefully. “If we weren’t here—”

  “It’s a good thing we are,” said Willa briskly. “But since we only have fifteen minutes left before we need to start our own preparations—”

  “Wait.” Juliana frowned. “That won’t give you nearly enough time. Don’t be silly!” She flapped her fingers at all of them in a shoo-ing gesture. “Don’t waste any more of your evening here with me! I’m sure I can throw something together for myself from everything you’ve brought.”

  “Mmm...” Anne winced.

  “You could,” said Ariana, more diplomatically, “but we’d prefer to help you.”

  “You don’t want to make a mess of it,” said Willa. “Tonight’s too important for that.”

  Oh no. Had Juliana slipped up during Caroline’s last visit? “I...don’t know what you mean?”

  “Oh, no?” Sujana raised her eyebrows skeptically. “Come, now. I know you don’t care for politics, but still—hasn’t it even occurred to you? All those carefully invited visitors Miss Harwood mentioned: don’t you think we ought to make a good impression on them, as Angland’s first-ever class of female magicians? It would be nice to win ourselves a chance at being hired one day—and prove we aren’t destined to ruin the nation forever, no matter what all those pundits in the newspapers might claim.”

  Juliana winced. “You really think I would dress that badly?”

  “Don’t be absurd.” Ariana plopped herself comfortably onto the bed on Juliana’s other side. “We’re not afraid that you’ll shame us. We’re afraid that you’ll lose a golden opportunity. This, tonight, is our best chance to impress some of the most influential people we’ll ever meet. Don’t you even want to try?”

  “You’re the whole reason this school was founded,” Sujana said. “You were the one who went to Miss Harwood and begged her to teach you—which gave her the idea for Thornfell in the first place.”

  “I’d still be on my family’s farm,” said Anne softly, “dreaming of magic without a spellbook in sight if it weren’t for you.”

  “And you’re the reason I can finally study magic,” said Willa, “without allowing people to keep on calling me ‘William’ and thinking I’m a man.” Her nostrils flared with irritation. “Do you think any of us would allow you not to make the best possible impression on our visitors tonight?”

  Juliana blinked rapidly as the three other women echoed Willa, their voices surrounding her in a chorus.

  They were right. It was important that she make a good impression tonight…and not only for her magical career. But as she looked around, she realized something even more important.

  No matter what happens tonight, I won’t shatter after all.

  ...Even if the love of her life turned her away again.

  ...And even if it really wasn’t possible to repair that precious, tingling connection that had carried her through the last three years, ever since she and Caroline had first met and she’d glimpsed a dazzling joy that she could never have imagined in her own family’s bitter, disapproving household.

  If she lost Caroline, it would break her heart. But she would survive and heal, because for the first time ever, she was surrounded by a sisterhood of women who valued her for who she truly was, flaws included.

  “In that case, ladies...” Juliana gestured grandly at the gowns scattered all across the room, putting herself into her friends’ hands without any more hesitation. “Get to work!”

  Caroline Fennell might be one of the nation’s fastest-rising political stars—but she could have no idea of what was about to hit her.

  Juliana was here.

  In this house.

  Quite possibly—judging by those distracting thumps and shrieks of laughter that had sounded through the ceiling before Miss Harwood had sailed off to silence them—directly overhead.

  Caroline’s fingers tightened around her glass of elven wine as her breath shortened uncontrollably. She fought to keep her expression attentive to the conversation around her, no matter where her dangerous thoughts might stray. Don’t even think about going up there.

  She’d trained her willpower into a steel blade over the years—but the irrepressible images swam before her anyway, all the more vivid for the months she’d forced herself to stay away. Juliana would no doubt be preparing at the very last moment, as usual—quite possibly with a book still held in one hand. Her dreamy blue gaze would rest on the open page as she slowly, slowly slid her day gown off those slim white shoulders and then—

  “What do you think of it all, Miss Fennell?”

  Caroline crashed back into reality to find everyone in her conversational group awaiting her answer to the local justice of the peace’s question.

  Luckily, there was only one possible subject that anyone would discuss in lowered voices tonight while the headmistress of Thornfell was out of the room. “It is an astonishing achievement,” she said firmly. “Angland will be all the richer for this school.”

  “Hmm,” said the justice of the peace, an elegant woman in her mid-fifties with a conservative dark gown and a skeptical twist to her mouth. “But then, you were part of the inspection team that decided to allow it in the first place, weren’t you? You and—of course...”

  Her words trailed off, and Caroline’s face tightened, all visions of bare shoulders and other enticements draining away.

  “My aunt, Lady Cosgrave,” she said crisply. “Yes. We were both pleased to confirm the safety and viability of this school.”

  “Such a pity that Lady Cosgrave had to step down from the Boudiccate so suddenly afterwards,” said the woman who stood beside the justice of the peace—another local landholder, Caroline recalled. Her face was alight with malicious glee. “And so young, too! Long before anyone would ever have expected her retirement.”

  Caroline kept her smile steady. “We all appreciate her decades of service to the nation.”

  “Indeed,” said the justice of the peace. “She was one of the most admired women in all of Angland.”

  ...Was being the operative word.

  The justice’s neighbor was twenty years younger and far less practiced in her subtleties. She edged closer, dropping her voice to a thrilling whisper. “One does hear the most disturbing rumors flying around—”

  “Only,” said Caroline, “if one listens to wild and uninformed rumors—which of course you ladies never would.” She took one last swig of her elven wine and deposited it swiftly on the side table nearby. “Now, if you’ll excuse me...”

 

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