“Indeed … indeed,” the wizard replied. He sat back, removed his glasses, and rubbed his nose briefly. “I was visited by Chancellor Ignatius Lambert, and asked if I would be willing to accept a gifted young lady into my instructions on arcane theory. This surprised me. You see, I didn’t teach a class on arcane theory. I had wanted to, and I requested to have it added to the curriculum on many occasions, but I was always turned down by the school’s patrons. It seemed they didn’t feel that teaching magic was a respectable pursuit. Magic uses power not connected to a spiritual devotion to Maribor and Novron. At best, it was subversive and possibly outright evil in their minds. The fact that I practiced the arcane arts at all has always been an embarrassment.”

“Why haven’t they replaced you?”

“It could be that my reputation as the most learned wizard in Avryn lends such prestige to this school that they allow me my hobbies. Or it may be that anyone who has tried to force my resignation has been turned into the various toads, squirrels, and rabbits you see about you.”

He appeared so serious that Arista looked around the room at the various cages and aquariums, at which point the wizard began to chuckle.

She scowled at him—which only made him laugh harder.

“As I was saying,” Arcadius went on once he regained control of himself, “Ignatius was in one sentence offering me my desire to teach magic if I was willing to accept you as a student. Perhaps he thought I would refuse. Little did he know that unlike the rest of them, I harbor no prejudices concerning women. Knowledge is knowledge, and the chance to instruct and enlighten a princess—a potential leader—with the power to help shape the world around us was not a deterrent at all. On the contrary, I saw it as a bonus.”

“So you’re saying I was allowed entrance because of a plan of the school’s headmaster that backfired?”

“Not at all. That is merely how it happened, not why. Why is a much more important question. You see, School Chancellor Ignatius Lambert was not alone in my office that morning. With him was another man. He remained silent and stood over there, just behind and to the left of you, where the birdcage is now. The cage wasn’t there then, of course. Instead, he chose to stand on a discarded old coat and a dagger. As I mentioned, it’s always interesting to see the paths people take when they enter this office, and where they choose to stand.”

“Who was he?”

“Percy Braga, the Archduke of Melengar.”

“So it was Uncle Percy.”