"Some trajectories appear correct only because they are constructed according to another's calculation. But in balance, it is not only the form that matters—it is the vector you did not allow to be deflected."
Time at the Holu estate flowed like the slow turning of cold, impeccably fitted gears of the universe. It neither hurried nor delayed, measuring out the days with indifferent precision. After my recent conversation with Heinrich, he had become more reserved and asked fewer questions about why Catherine came to me at night. However, I was not certain that he had not shifted his focus to Catherine herself, who, for her part, seemed ready to discuss any topic with him.
Catherine's nightly visits did not cease. They repeated again and again, becoming more meaningful and regular, as if she were aligning her own internal vector with mine on the path toward the ideas of her own soul.
However, the tranquility of the estate could not last forever, and on one seemingly ordinary morning, the usual order shifted.
Early in the morning, there was a knock on the door. It was not Catherine, but the butler. He informed me with concern that an important guest would be arriving at the estate and that I should dress appropriately. I had not brought any dresses with me, so I had to make do with the same blue dress in which I had traveled from Tarvar to the Academy.
The preparations did not take long. Trying to understand what important guests were coming to the Holus, I walked through the house and immediately caught the faint notes of bustle. The cooks were not just preparing lunch—it seemed they were laying out a festive spread. The servants scurried from side to side, striving to remove every speck of dust. But the main sign that someone truly important was arriving was a large box of dark wood with the perfectly carved seal of the Meriwald family.
To understand what was happening, I tried to find Catherine. She was in the central drawing room, and her conversation with her mother was taking place in slightly raised tones. I stood not far from the door, so as not to attract the attention of the servants, and pretended to be waiting for Catherine, although I could hear the entire conversation perfectly.
"Catherine, your potential service to Evelina does not preclude a marriage that will strengthen our family's position," Celeste said in a voice that brooked no argument.
"Mother, why won't you listen to me?" Catherine asked confidently. "I will choose for myself when and whom to marry. Right now, only my service to the crown is important to me."
"Do not speak foolishness, Catherine," Celeste retorted. "Darian Meriwald is a suitor of the highest category. Your meeting has already been arranged and is not subject to discussion."
"Very well…" Catherine said with disappointment. "But I warn you now: if I do not like him, there will be no wedding."
Celeste probably wanted to object, but Edward interrupted her, "The conversation is over. We will resolve the issues this evening."
After the brief remark from the head of the family, the door opened, and Catherine emerged with a confident stride. Her gaze met mine, and she gestured for me to come to her, closing the door behind her.
We walked through the corridors, and Catherine was deafeningly silent the entire time. It seemed her face expressed more than a thousand words. And only when we were at a safe distance did she speak in a half-whisper, "Arta! You can't imagine, they want to marry me off to some aristocrat from Sumerenn! My mother praises him so highly: handsome, intelligent, graduated from the Academy of the Four Judges, and serves in the kingdom's senate! And his father, it turns out, owns several manufactories and is on the council for commercial magic! It makes me sick to listen!"
"Catherine, we have discussed repeatedly that the choice must be yours. Why do we train, why do you become stronger?" I paused. "In the end, if you truly like him, you can always agree," I added, suggesting that development would remove my primary vulnerability.
"You too!" Catherine let out a disappointed groan. "Is it really so hard to understand that I don't want to get married!" she said, raising her tone.
"Catherine, sometimes marriage is not a bad thing. It all depends on the circumstances and goals," I replied, shaking my head.
"Arta, why don't you understand…" she turned away, then looked at me again. "I have found freedom, I want to live a full life, and, moreover, I want…" she paused, "I want to do for you what you did for me."
I looked into her eyes, and they held a challenge.
"Catherine, in any case, it must be your choice. Do you understand the difference? I am only noting that it is worth considering all options," I replied calmly.
She sighed. "I want you to be present as well. If you refuse, I won't go either," she answered firmly, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Alright, I will be there," I nodded.
"Excellent. I will see you at lunch. I'm going to try on the dress specially embroidered for this reception! My mother always plays a double game," she lowered her arms and, shaking her head, headed toward the central part of the estate.
***
I spent the time before lunch in my room, contemplating the landscapes outside the window and meticulously designing plans to solve my main task in Illumora. After finishing my preparations, I walked outside, inhaling the scents of the frosty air, the snow, and the frozen earth under a gray sky, like an endless canvas.
I met Catherine only in the guest hall, where a huge table was already set with various dishes. She stood in an evening gown of deep blue. A high collar concealed her neck, and along the sleeves and hem wound a complex, patterned embroidery of gold thread, like the light of order in the darkness of the universe. Catherine's hair was gathered in a neat bun, and her gaze expressed no emotion.
Edward sat at the head of the table in a black-and-red velvet jacket, his gaze full of alienation. To his left sat Celeste in a gray dress, which deliberately did not distract attention from Catherine's appearance.
Heinrich stood at the far end of the table. His presence, though formal, was an important tribute to tradition. He was dressed in a simple white shirt and black velvet trousers. He gave me a welcoming wave, and I immediately understood that my role today was not to distract attention from the main star of this dinner party, Catherine.
I had barely taken my place next to Heinrich when the butler escorted a young and self-assured man into the hall, his gaze carefully appraising all present. Fair hair, gray eyes without a drop of warmth, impeccable posture, and an expensive blue jacket with light silver trim—as if he had chosen his attire to match Catherine's.
He was accompanied by only one servant, who obediently stood by the door. With this gesture, Darian probably wanted to emphasize his status before Catherine. A sufficient gesture to exert a slight influence on simple-minded girls.
He bowed politely, with a line calibrated to the degree, "Thank you for the invitation, Lady Holu," he said, looking at Celeste. "My name is Darian Veyr Meriwald. I am pleased to have the opportunity to be your guest."
"The Holu house is always pleased to have guests from worthy houses," Celeste replied. "Allow me to introduce: my husband Edward, my daughter Catherine, my son Heinrich… and Lady Artalis Nox, Catherine's fellow student."
Darian inclined his head slightly, "Lord and Lady Holu, Lady Nox, it is an honor to be with you today." He nodded politely to each, his gaze lingering on Catherine for a moment longer than etiquette required. Enough to signal interest, but not so much as to seem a claim. A perfect balance.
"It is a great honor to meet you," he said, looking at Catherine.
"Likewise," Catherine replied, her voice polite and smooth as a river stone.
Darian sat to the right of Edward, directly opposite Catherine. At the same moment, the servants opened the metal lids on the platters and offered everyone roasted venison with berries.
The dishes changed at a measured pace, and the servants carefully watched the gestures of the guest, who drank only water. The conversation flowed unhurriedly, led mainly by Celeste, who skillfully guided it in the direction she desired: first—about the Academy of the Four Judges, then—about the changes in the Senate, then—about the traditions of Valtheim. Darian answered easily but with restraint. It was clear that he had come here not just for the sake of it, but to achieve his goal, and perhaps for Catherine, this was indeed one of the best options.
During lunch, Catherine listened attentively, sometimes nodding, observing all the norms of etiquette, and once even laughed at Darian's joke—unfeignedly, genuinely. At times, her gaze would slide toward her mother—not as a challenge, but as a reminder that everything happening here was her will. Celeste, in turn, would occasionally cast glances at her daughter—too precise to be accidental, and too detached to be motherly. An invisible thread stretched between them, taut as a silk line: not breaking, but cutting to the quick.
"I am glad to see that your home is still filled with life," Darian said, as lunch was drawing to a close. "In Valtheim now, alas, one more often encounters silence where there used to be conversation."
"There is not always truth in conversation," Catherine replied. "And silence does not always bring understanding."
"If you know where to listen, then silence is almost always better," Darian objected.
"Perhaps it depends on the source of the silence," Catherine replied with a smile, and her gaze met mine.
Celeste took a sip of tea and intervened, turning her head halfway toward Catherine, "Lord Darian plans to stay in these parts for a few more days. Perhaps you will find an occasion to continue your conversation."
"Perhaps," Catherine replied easily. It was neither a promise nor a refusal.
"Forgive me if the question is too direct…" Darian leaned forward slightly, his voice remaining even. "Have you already thought about what you plan to do after the Academy, Lady Catherine?"
"I plan to serve at the court of Evelina Valtheim as a court mage," she replied without the slightest hesitation.
"That requires determination," he responded. "And, I must admit, few men would venture into a union with a woman who belongs more to service than to the home. Although, of course, there are exceptions. I have an acquaintance—Magister Yaren Grey. He lived as a bachelor almost until he was fifty, and then he married a lady-in-waiting from Arzanir who had served at court for almost thirty years. Everyone said she would never marry. But, as you can see, anything can happen."
Celeste raised an eyebrow slightly but said nothing.
"Exceptions only prove the rule," Catherine replied calmly.
"And I had a friend," Edward suddenly intervened. "He did not marry, lived honestly, with books and debts… And then he died. Very timely, so as not to become a burden." He leaned back in his chair and added, "So sometimes the absence of an exception is already an exception."
A short pause fell, which was allowed to dissipate naturally rather than being rudely interrupted.
"They say the ball at Duality this year was particularly successful," Darian politely changed the subject. "An acquaintance of mine, a master of finance in the Senate, recently told me that his niece studies with you—she was delighted with the atmosphere." He paused, then added a little more softly, "By the way, there are rumors that next year, graduates of military academies will be invited to the ball. Apparently, the traditions established over centuries are beginning to crumble. A bad sign for our country."
"It is terrible when traditions crumble," Celeste intervened. "I still remember when I studied at Duality. Those were golden times, and, most importantly, traditions were always above all."
Darian nodded and looked at Catherine. "So how did you like the ball this year, Lady Catherine? Did you enjoy it?"
"The ball was moderately solemn," she replied calmly. "But, as you said, the atmosphere was a little oppressive."
"I understand. At your age, all this is especially noticeable, but the collapse of traditions without a good alternative always creates a gaping void," Darian stopped and once again gently changed the subject, "And if we forget about the Academy and service to Evelina Valtheim—what brings you pleasure? If you will permit such a personal directness."
"Reading. Sometimes fencing. Magic. Beautiful clothes,"—she paused and cast a barely perceptible glance at me.
"So, everything that has form. Intriguing," he said this more as an observation than a conclusion. Darian spoke sincerely, without a hint of falsehood. He probably genuinely enjoyed talking to Catherine, and this, without a doubt, confirmed my conclusions.
"Balance and effort are no less important," Catherine added in a polite tone.
"I suppose at the royal court lately, there is often a lack of effort. Perhaps if you serve there, you can change the situation," Darian smiled. "After all, when everything has turned into a ceremony, it is difficult to do one's job." He took another sip of water from his goblet.
"Changing such a situation is not a five-minute job," Catherine replied, looking Darian directly in the eye. "For without form, everything falls apart, and without meaning, form becomes empty."
"Deep and precise," he responded. "Forgive me if the next question seems immodest… Do you like to travel?"
"If the travels serve some purpose, then yes," she replied calmly.
"I am glad to hear that. By duty of service, I sometimes have to be outside of Valtheim. And sometimes, those who are near do not always understand why it is required," he said, hiding meanings between the lines.
Celeste inclined her head and said quietly, "A companion who understands the purpose is a rarity. Even among the closest people."
"Perhaps that is the basis of a union," Darian replied politely. "Not in common blood, but in a common direction."
"I do not argue," Catherine said. "But direction is not always determined by feelings. Sometimes it is determined by will."
"That is why you attract so much attention," he smiled reservedly.
Another pause arose, which quickly dissolved when Darian spoke again. "Allow me one more question," he added softly. "How comfortable do you feel in the role of a manager? I mean, have you had to coordinate the work of servants, distribute duties?"
"Sometimes. Especially at home, when my mother was away. I do not object to such a role, but I am closer to those who do, rather than those who watch over the doers," she smiled slightly.
"A surprisingly honest answer." He took another sip of water. "And one more… What do you think about children?"
"I think that they cannot be taken for granted. They are not an adornment of marriage, but a conscious choice that entails consequences."
"Beautifully formulated," he tilted his head slightly. "I myself think so, which is why I still have neither a wife nor children."
Catherine was about to say something, but Celeste, as if sensing an unnecessary tension, once again took up the thread of the conversation, "By the way, this morning I read in the newspaper that the remains of an ancient dragon were found in Krisian, can you imagine? I thought all my life that it was a fairy tale," she said with a smile.
"Why a fairy tale?" Darian objected. "In the legends, there are direct mentions that dragons were exterminated by the gods, including the Gods of Dreams."
"And what gods were there, besides the Gods of Dreams?" Catherine clarified, pretending not to know anything about it.
Darian smiled, as if a unique chance had presented itself to demonstrate his erudition, "In total, there were three pantheons in Illumora: the Gods of Dreams—you already know all about them; the Gods of Time—you may have also heard of them, their history is connected with the kingdom of Brirosin, which was located here before the founding of Valtheim; and the least known pantheon, about which there are practically no mentions and which has long been destroyed—the Gods of Abyss."
"The Gods of Abyss?" Catherine repeated.
"Yes, exactly," Darian nodded. "Almost nothing is known about them. Only that in the far north of Tarvar, a runic carving was found with inscriptions stating that the Gods of Dreams and the Gods of Time were forced to unite to defeat such a powerful enemy."
"Sounds creepy," Catherine said and looked at me.
Suddenly, Darian's servant approached him and whispered something in his ear.
"Please excuse me." Darian stood up. "Unfortunately, my time is scheduled. I am extremely grateful to the Holu house for their hospitality."
Edward Holu reluctantly stood up and shook his hand. "Our house is always open to guests like you."
"Thank you, Lord Edward. I sincerely apologize, but I must go. Thank you very much." With these words, his gaze lingering on Catherine for a moment, Darian, accompanied by the butler, left the hall.
***
Late evening enveloped the estate in silence. Catherine had been conversing with her parents all this time, and I just sat at the table in my room, leaning back in my chair.
I was waiting for the familiar knock on the door, the moment when she would decide to come, but tonight it did not come. Catherine entered the room without any formalities, and her step was slow and heavy.
"Arta, you knew, didn't you," she said, not waiting for my reaction. Her voice was quiet, devoid of the firmness with which she had conducted the conversation with Darian. "You knew he wasn't the one I needed. Are you satisfied with the performance?"
"And what is wrong with him? In my opinion, he was a suitable candidate. There was no falsehood or pretense in him," I replied calmly.
She went to the wall, took a chair, moved it to my desk, and sat beside me.
"Perhaps he would have been the ideal choice. But it is not the choice I need. Have you even thought about the fact that he would hardly have approached me if he knew I didn't have a leg? Or where, in your opinion, was he before?"
"There is sense in that, Catherine. That is how psychology is structured," I replied, looking into her eyes, in which the candlelight was reflected.
"Damn it! Arta, why do you understand me at a glance!" she said angrily. "My parents, especially my mother, don't want to listen to me at all."
"You have already stated your position to them. Give them time to accept it, and what happens next, you will decide for yourself."
"Nothing will happen next. I will serve Evelina with you," she answered firmly.
"You know I am not against it. Just keep in mind the fact that I do not intend to serve Evelina forever," I replied, smiling slightly.
Catherine closed her eyes. "That is logical. But still, the question of marriage will wait these years, and then I will decide for myself what to do." She shook her head. "It is strange that no one can understand: I do not want to be part of a formula that was derived without my participation."
"I can understand," I replied, looking at her upset face.
Catherine smirked. "You always see a trajectory in me, Arta, and they—only an opportunity." She turned her head to look at the falling snowflakes outside the window, and then, with a sigh, continued, "You know, it often seemed to me before that you look at me as a fragment of a mechanism. Like a beautiful but complex task. But today I understood—you are waiting for me to find my own place."
I nodded. Her conclusion was logical and close to the truth.
Catherine stood up from the chair and looked down at me. "I needed to talk to you. I am sorry if I seem intrusive."
"It is alright," my voice sounded even, but I allowed a faint smile to touch my lips. "Come when you see fit. After all, we are friends."
Catherine smiled back, and this smile for a moment illuminated the room with a living, real warmth.
"Thank you, Arta. Good night." She went to the door and, leaving the room, closed it tightly behind her, without looking back.
I was alone again. Silence fell on the room like a dark shroud, and only a few candles continued their struggle with this absence. I went to the nightstand where her gift lay—the watch. I took it in my hand, expecting the familiar coolness of the metal and the light, calming vibration of the aetherial engine.
But it was not there. The mechanism had ceased to function, its hands frozen at ten minutes to ten. The aetheric transfer had failed during the period in which my attention was diverted.
I had again become engrossed in what I should not have and had forgotten to feed it with aether magic. A thin, pearlescent energy flowed from my fingers, and the watch started again, bringing a strange calm.
I understood that Catherine had long outgrown my initial calculations. She was independent, and her decisions needed to be acknowledged and respected. Perhaps this was right, but it was also infinitely dangerous, because I was not sure which of us was actually observing the other.