Love's Labor's Won Read Online Free

she leaned against the wall and waited, trying to think of something — anything — else. There had been something in the girl’s dark eyes that had scared her at a very primal level, yet she wasn’t sure why. She’d seen so many unpleasant people since coming to the Nameless World that one more didn’t seem much of a problem.
    It was nearly half an hour, by her watch, when the door opened and the girl stomped out, closing the door sharply behind her. Her cheeks were still pale, but Emily could see two spots of color as the girl turned to face her. For a long moment, they stared at each other — Emily silently readied a spell to defend herself — and then the girl turned and strode off down the corridor. Her back was ramrod straight as she walked away, suggesting a desperate attempt to remain dignified. Emily watched her go, fighting down the childish impulse to fire a spell at the girl’s retreating back, then turned and knocked on the door. The door opened and she stepped into the room.
    “I’m sorry, sir,” she said, as the Grandmaster looked up at her. “I didn’t realize you had a guest.”
    “Knock in future,” the Grandmaster advised, “even if the door is open. You don’t really want to intrude on a magician’s private space without his permission.”
    “Yes, sir,” Emily said, feeling her cheeks heat. “Why...why was she here?”
    The Grandmaster’s eyebrows twitched behind the cloth. “I am not in the habit of discussing your discipline or the reasons for it with other students,” he said. “Should I not grant them the same privacy?”
    Emily looked down at the bare stone floor, embarrassed. “Yes, sir,” she said. “Sorry, sir.”
    “Glad to hear it,” the Grandmaster said, dryly. “Now, if you will give me a minute...”
    He picked a piece of paper off his desk, and wrote a long series of Old Script letters. Emily looked away, her eyes skimming the office; for once, instead of bare stone walls, there were a handful of decorations. A large painting hung on one wall, while — below it — there was a small table, covered with artefacts and strange magical devices. There was something about the painting that caught and held her attention, reminding her of images she’d seen on Earth. The figure looked like Charles I, a tall aristocratic man with long dark hair, a goatee and expensive clothes. But there was something about the thin smile on the man’s face that sent chills down her spine. He seemed to be permanently laughing at the universe.
    “There’s an interesting story about that painting,” the Grandmaster said. Emily turned back to look at him. “There was a wealthy magician who had it commissioned, years ago. The artist was a powerful magician in his own right and infused a great deal of magic into the canvas. Once it was completed, it was hung in the magician’s studio...and then, one night, when no one was watching, the figure crawled out of the painting and killed the original.”
    Emily frowned. “If there were no witnesses,” she said, “how do they know?”
    The Grandmaster snorted. “Stories have a habit of growing in the telling,” he said. “But as you can see, the painting is surrounded by powerful magic.”
    Emily turned back...and started. The figure had changed. Instead of smiling, his face looked disapproving, as if he’d smelled something foul. The eyes were fixed on Emily’s face...she took a step closer, wondering if she’d see the figure move again. But there was nothing until she looked away for a split second, then back at the portrait. This time, the figure seemed to be winking at her.
    “It changes,” she said. “Why are you keeping it here?”
    “Certain parties would like to lay the legend to rest, once and for all,” the Grandmaster said. She heard him rise to his feet, then walk around the desk to stand next to her. “Or have it confirmed, if it is real.”
    He pointed to the items on the desk below the painting. “These were