The morning was especially silent in the marble halls of House Valemortis. Even the servants, usually so coordinated in their chores, moved with an unusual caution. There was something in the air—a subtle tension, like the smell of ozone before a storm.
Elyandra had already finished her morning training with Dalia and, as always, wore the gray, simple, and functionally cut outfit she had chosen herself. Her long silver hair was tied back with a black ribbon, leaving her face completely visible—a strategic choice. Noble garments would only hinder her movements, and the austere appearance was a clear tribute to her tutor.
Dalia stood, as usual, in the shadow of a column, arms crossed. Her serene and somewhat serious gaze swept the corridor like a silent sentinel.
— They have arrived — announced a servant, bowing at the entrance of the inner courtyard where Elyandra was resting with a glass of mineralized water, handed to her by Dalia a few minutes prior. — The Marquess of Sorell and his retinue have been received by Lord Valemortis and are walking toward the drawing room.
Elyandra placed the glass on the table with a light clink; one of the maids would collect it shortly after.
— My father went to receive them personally? — she remarked sweetly, crossing her legs with childish grace. — Let's go, Dalia. I want a closer look.
Dalia remained silent, but she followed her pupil simply because she had nothing else to do, though she also had no desire to participate in such an occasion.
Upon entering the room, the young girl immediately felt a strange sensation—somewhat frigid, as if she were in a hunter's crosshairs. She innocently looked around to find the source of that feeling; her eyes met the weight of the Marquess's gaze. He was a robust man with a meticulously trimmed beard and an expression constantly twisted into a calculated smile. The kind of person who praises a diamond's brilliance while trying to steal it with his eyes.
Beside him, a boy with golden hair and soft features tried to match his father's pomp. He was handsome and elegant, wearing white linen clothes embroidered with the Sorell crest. His eyes, however, betrayed his real age and innocence. He watched Elyandra with almost childish wonder.
Behind them, in silence, came another boy. This one, with dark brown hair and brown eyes as cold as ancient steel, wore a discreet outfit without crests and carried the discomfort of someone outside their own kingdom. His eyes did not wander like the other boy's; instead, they fixed on Elyandra for an instant, out of pure curiosity for the newcomer, and then averted.
Elyandra, for her part, took two graceful steps forward, bowing her head slightly in greeting. It was enough to appear polite and noble, but not submissive.
— Welcome to House Valemortis. I hope the road here was not too burdensome for you — she said in her soft, well-placed voice.
— Oh! What a charming reception — said the Marquess, smiling with his eyes on Elyandra. — I can hardly believe how much the young lady has grown. What a divine rarity... almost priceless.
Her father, Lord Valemortis, who was finishing his analysis of documents handed to him by the Marquess, cut through the atmosphere with a single step forward.
— There are things in this world whose value is so high that they cannot be measured with numbers.
The Marquess laughed, as if the comment were merely a noble jest between equals. Elyandra, however, noticed the micro-expression of frustration that flashed in his eyes before he composed himself.
They began a conversation focused on projects regarding the empire. The Valemortis family: a house of paramount importance, responsible for the empire's policing and most military matters. The Sorell family: one of the wealthiest families in the entire Empire of Divine Light, responsible not only for finance but also for the free market.
Two powerful families, and between them existed one common thing: a veiled rivalry, hidden very well by the hosts—a rivalry born of political disputes and a great deal of self-interest.
While the adults spoke of politics, lands, and imperial obligations—matters so dense that only studied minds could understand them without falling asleep—Elyandra approached the two boys.
— May I know your name, sir? — she asked the blonde, with curious eyes.
— I am Arcturus Sorell! — he replied with a wide, animated smile. — And you are... Elyandra, right? Do you want to play later? I brought some magic cards I got from one of my father's merchants; they're really cool!
— Magic cards? Sounds interesting... — she smiled with enchanting sweetness. — Perhaps, if my time permits.
Her eyes then slid to the second boy.
— And you? Won't you introduce yourself?
He hesitated; he didn't seem very comfortable saying his name. It was Arcturus who spoke for him.
— Oh, he's just... a friend of my father's. He's accompanying us for a while, you know?
Elyandra understood. Too well... Arcturus seemed like a very animated boy, but he was also very intelligent; despite the excitement he exuded, he was responsible enough to know that certain things should remain silent.
— I see... — she murmured, lowering her voice, staring directly into the boy's cold gaze. — A temporary friend, then?
He looked at her, and in that brief contact, she knew: he wasn't just a guest. There was something more; he exhaled an air that intrigued her, something she was beginning to take an interest in without knowing why.
Elyandra smiled, feigning innocence.
— I hope you enjoy your stay. We may not have golden gardens like the Sorell mansion, but we have good shadows... for those who need to rest.
Dalia, near the wall, raised an eyebrow with a half-smile; she seemed to have found some temporary amusement while watching Elyandra.
Elyandra turned and took Arcturus by the arm gently.
— Come, let's see if your magic cards impress me.
As she walked away, Elyandra looked discreetly over her shoulder at the other boy. The calculated glint in her eyes showed he might be far more intriguing than she imagined—a thought that made her even more excited to learn more about them.
After all, Elyandra was a recluse. Her previous life had molded her in the solitude of her room, while in this one, she had been molded in the solitude of the mansion, knowing practically nothing of what lay outside the walls. Her only guides were books and stories overheard from servants. Talking to new visitors was a practice she tried to engage in whenever possible, even though only people of trust or high influence were permitted into the Valemortis mansion, leaving her with few chances to interact with anyone besides the frequently replaced servants.
Hours passed between innocent games and small conversations. Elyandra studied them in silence, like someone evaluating pieces before a royal tournament. The blonde was an energetic boy. The other was somewhat withdrawn—not out of innocence, but by choice; his serious eyes, devoid of excitement, betrayed a perceptive way of acting. A potential that could be honed like a blade, the type of person Elyandra was interested in talking to.
When the dinner bell rang, a maid approached discreetly:
— Lady Elyandra, the table is set.
She nodded gracefully and accompanied the boys to the Great Hall, where everyone was already seated.
The Marquess of Sorell, her father, her mother, and Dalia were present. Dalia, now wearing a dark gray social dress, sat beside Altheria, maintaining her composure and silence, her eyes lost in her own meal, oblivious to the political movements in the room.
Elyandra observed Dalia for a moment and noticed how, even out of her military uniform, she remained an imposing presence. That dark hair tied in the same loose braid as always and her firm bearing contrasted with the dress, revealing a cold, almost cruel beauty.
"Even in social clothes for fancy events, she looks like an idol carved out of granite... A bit strange given that war-general personality she has..." thought Elyandra, hiding the thought behind a slight smile.
Dalia noticed her presence; she did not wave or even smile. She returned her attention to the table, even if she wasn't listening to the bureaucratic conversation between Lord Valemortis and the Marquess of Sorell.
Elyandra sat beside her father. Arcturus and the other boy took their places near the Marquess.
The meal began with soft words, but the tone soon rose. Lord Valemortis and the Marquess discussed imperial taxes, caravan routes, and recent decrees from the Emperor.
— The new tariffs on maritime transport have hit our coastal region hard; the Vancrofts are not very happy about it — commented the Marquess. — We expected the Emperor to offer support through the central houses, like yours, Valemortis.
— Logistical support will be offered to those who show administrative self-sufficiency — replied Elyandra's father in a neutral tone. — The Empire of Divine Light cannot bankroll local incompetence under the pretext of centralization. Furthermore, our financial support is offered by the state and passed on to aid the troops, not for the external affairs of other houses.
— Inflexible as always... — the Marquess smiled. — But understandable.
The dinner continued, and with time, the subject naturally slipped toward religion. The Goddess of Light was cited frequently, especially regarding the last Ascension Festival, where priestesses and nobles gathered to renew vows before the solar altar. Devotion to the Goddess was the backbone of the imperial structure.
— Speaking of faith... — the Marquess looked at Elyandra with a new glint in his eyes. — Your daughter is a true living blessing. It would be an honor... for both houses, to unite our youth through a sacred contract. My son is noble, of good health, and unwavering devotion. Elyandra would be treated like a jewel. Since you do not intend to offer her to the Church as the Saint she could be, perhaps a relationship of mutual interest would be of your concern?
Elyandra remained silent, slightly raising her chin, her eyes secretly fixed on her father; after all, her fate largely depended on that man's choices. Her father, however, did not even blink.
— Contracts are not sealed with ornaments — he said. — And my daughter is not market merchandise.
The Marquess smiled, but there was tension beneath the surface.
— But she... sports a black earring. A symbol of the bearers of ancient purity, is it not? A mark of Ancient Blood. With that level of purity, even being valued at an absurd amount and being noble, she can still be bought by imperial law.
The hall went silent for a brief second. Altheria said nothing, keeping her eyes down. The final authority at the table was not hers.
Lord Valemortis lightly brought a knife to his plate, cutting a piece of meat with surgical precision.
— The law allows nobles to be bought if they possess a high condition of blood purity; that is true. But only for houses that do not have enough power to contest influence with the Empire.
He raised his eyes, staring at the Marquess without humor.
— Do you happen to think we are a house of so little influence...?
The Marquess's smile vanished, and Elyandra could see the flash of frustration once more.
While the tension hung in the air, Dalia took another sip of wine and cut a piece of bread without looking up. Her expression was neutral. None of this interested her in the least; it seemed like a conversation between random people on a Sunday morning to her. That lack of interest caught Elyandra's attention, who smiled tremulously, not understanding how Dalia could have such peace of mind at that moment.
Elyandra crossed her hands on her lap, focusing on breathing calmly, acting as though her name hadn't even been mentioned. She remained serene.
"How fascinating..." thought the girl, a serious facet hidden behind a calm smile and an innocent gaze.
Religion, always present in the corners of the Empire, now hung like mist over the table. The Goddess of Light was worshipped as guide and sovereign; many believed her will manifested in the purity of ancient blood—though this type of blood anomaly had already been seen outside the Empire, Altheria being the hallmark of that.
It was then that the Marquess cast a calculated look at Elyandra.
— And what about you, little lady? Have you thought about the future? Do you intend to follow in your mother's footsteps, perhaps, or tread another path under the light of the Goddess?
All eyes turned to her. Elyandra, for a moment, remained silent, reflecting. Her tone, when she finally spoke, was delicate, without arrogance.
— I do not know for sure yet, my lord. I have much to learn, but... I intend to continue my studies. — She raised her eyes smoothly. — I believe I plan to enter the Royal Academy of Magic, if the opportunity arises.
Her mother seemed slightly surprised, blinking only once. Her father, however, remained neutral, as if it were already expected. Dalia, on the other side, cut a piece of meat with her usual calm, completely indifferent, and brought it to her mouth, her peace of mind unbreakable as she quietly chewed her meal, her mind far from the current conflict at the table.
The Marquess smiled with an almost predatory glint in his eyes.
— Refined ambition. A devout and studious spirit... admirable characteristics. My son Arcturus could benefit immensely from the company of someone so... enlightened. — He raised his glass in a symbolic toast. — After all, he will also be attending the Royal Academy.