Chương 92: The Date Officially Classified as a "Financial Audit"

The VIP reading room at the top of the Tower of Knowledge, at eight in the evening, glowed with fragrant candlelight and the soft strains of magical harp music drifting from a crystal in the corner of the room. A round ebony dining table was draped in a pristine white lace cloth. At its center stood a crystal vase of dew-fresh snow roses, two silver plates holding perfectly cooked beast steak fragrant with garlic butter, and a chilled pitcher of sparkling berry tea.

Eleanor sat in a velvet armchair, her golden hair loose and flowing down her back, her white lace evening gown formal beneath a light cloak. Click. The door swung open. Lucian walked in, arms loaded with three thick stacks of tax documents, a jade abacus tucked under his arm. He wore a uniform shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbow, marched straight to the table, and dropped all three stacks of paperwork down onto the white lace cloth with a THUMP, making the crystal glass jump and ring out sharply.

He pulled out the chair across from her and dropped into it, flipped open the red ink pad, and spoke seriously.

"Hello, Council President. Let's get to work. The Student Council's Q1 expenditure report has six discrepancies that need to be reconciled tonight." Eleanor, glass halfway raised, froze, her jade-ringed hand stopping mid-air. She set the glass down and turned to look out the floor-to-ceiling window — where the full moon cast a silvery light over the capital below — and spoke softly.

"It's such a quiet night today... don't you think the moonlight is beautiful?" Lucian, quill in hand, eyes fixed on the expense sheet, fingers clicking through the abacus without pause.

"The full moon boosts natural ambient light, cutting magical candle costs across the whole tower by 15%. Very efficient. Speaking of which, last month you approved three thousand gold for 'fresh flower décor for the main hall' — that expense has no valid red-stamped receipt attached. The Royal Tax Bureau won't allow it as a deductible operating cost." CLINK! Eleanor picked up her sparkling berry tea, took a deliberate sip, then set the glass down on the porcelain plate. She stood up.

Her white lace hem swept across the plush rug. Eleanor didn't return to her seat — instead, she dragged her chair around to sit right next to Lucian's. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. She propped her elbow on the table, tilted her head into her palm, and narrowed her blue eyes at the number-filled ledger in front of him.

"So... if I wanted to legitimize that three-thousand-gold expense, what would I need to 'put up as collateral' with you, classmate Vance?" Lucian, mid-figure, stopped, the tip of his quill frozen on the parchment. Eleanor tapped the margin beside the disputed expense and lowered her voice so that only he could hear. She indicated the disputed line with her quill, her expression teasing but businesslike.

"I'll place the Student Council's next event fund under my personal guarantee. Would that be enough for you to let that three-thousand-gold invoice go?" Ting! Ting! Ting! A cascade of dark red emergency alerts exploded through Lucian's mind, shaking the entire Unified System v2. 0 interface. [WARNING: SYSTEM HAS DETECTED AN EXTREME-RISK FLUCTUATION!] Host status: Cognitive-emotional overload. Heart rate: 155 bpm!

2-billion Spell Control stat: accounting calculations temporarily stalled by cognitive-emotional overload. No base-stat failure detected; host requires a short recess before resuming the audit. [SYSTEM RECOMMENDATION: REQUEST A RECESS OR RETURN TO THE LEDGER.] Lucian froze solid. Every financial algorithm, every depreciation schedule, every scrap of a former finance worker's logical thinking in his head instantly evaporated into empty static.

He stared at the ledger and the personal guarantee written beside it, his chest pounding like war drums. Per Solaris public-finance law, a council officer's personal guarantee required a written witness and a proper record. He swallowed hard, opening his mouth to mumble something... BOOM! The oak door of the VIP room was kicked wide open, slamming against the wall with an explosive crash.

Astra, wearing a pink floral apron over her workout clothes, came barreling in, carrying an enormous silver tub overflowing with strawberry ice cream, cold mist curling off the top.

"Lucian! Your and Sister Eleanor's late-night strawberry ice cream, delivered!" Astra stopped dead in front of the table. She tilted her head, blinking at Eleanor seated beside Lucian with both of them bent over the accounting ledger. Astra set the tub of ice cream down in the middle of the steak plates, asking with total innocence.

"Are you two... arm wrestling over who pays for dinner?" The air in the reading room froze solid. Lucian, like a drowning man grabbing a lifeline, instantly grabbed a silver spoon and shoveled a scoop of strawberry ice cream straight into his mouth.

"Yep! We're arm wrestling! Great ice cream!" Eleanor sat bolt upright, cheeks flushing red as a ripe tomato. She looked at the pot-sized tub of ice cream sitting in the middle of their late dinner, then at Lucian's panicked, ice-cream-shoveling face. But deep in her blue eyes, a spark of triumph suddenly blazed bright. She'd just seen the rare, flustered, cornered expression of this untouchable merchant. Eleanor stood, straightened the hem of her lace gown, and threw her knight's cloak over her shoulders.

She circled around the table and stopped beside Lucian's chair, speaking quietly enough for only him to hear.

"That three-thousand-gold debt... I'll be charging interest through more of these 'financial audits' going forward, Lucian." The soft click of her heels — tap... tap... — faded gently out of the reading room. Lucian sat alone beside the tub of strawberry ice cream, spoon still in hand, his heart still pounding hard in his chest, refusing to cool down. He tilted his head back, looking up at the moonlit crystal ceiling, and let out a long, helpless sigh.

"I'm done for... at this rate, the Princess is going to turn every audit into another negotiation..."