Chương 332: Chapter 328 - Gilded chambers

The carriage trundled its way through Freybrook, the cobbled streets gradually giving way to the wider, more spacious roads of the northern district. Scarlett and Evelyne sat in silence, each gazing out their respective window. Outside, the view shifted between patches of dark, snow-covered forest and the vague silhouettes of affluent estates, their forms softened by the faint glow of scattered lanterns.

After some time, Scarlett shifted her attention to Evelyne, quietly studying the younger woman's distant expression. As usual, conversations with Evelyne weren't easy. Tonight was no exception. Their talk had wandered into territory Scarlett hadn't planned for. She hadn't meant to share so much, and she honestly wasn't entirely sure how she felt about it yet. In one sense, being cornered like that—almost forced to reveal secrets she'd carefully guarded—had been immensely infuriating. But it had also been… useful.

Or, at the very least, necessary. After all, she herself had made the decision to open up. If she had wanted to, she could have deflected much more, as she normally would. Perhaps, on some level, it was liberating not to. Not that the frustration didn't outweigh any sense of freedom. Scarlett also made a conscious effort to suppress whatever comfort she might have taken from it, a deliberate attempt to maintain her guard.

She still believed some truths were best kept hidden — truths about this world, about Fate, and about her real identity. The sharing of those secrets had ended with Arlene. Evelyne didn't need to know everything. Still, she couldn't help but wonder how Evelyne would have reacted if she had told her everything. To Scarlett's surprise, Evelyne eventually seemed to sense her gaze. The younger woman turned her head slowly, meeting her eyes.

"…What is it?" she asked quietly. Scarlett studied her for a moment longer before answering.

"I was…merely curious."

"Curious about what?"

"Your opinion of me now that you know the truth," she said.

"We are sisters, but our shared past is one only you remember. I am not the sister you once knew, and I doubt I will ever truly become her again. Many would hesitate to see me as the same person, were they aware of this reality." Evelyne's expression was unreadable, the lantern light casting flickering shadows across her partially covered face.

"…I don't know what you expect me to say here, Scarlett."

"I do not expect anything," Scarlett replied.

"I simply wondered if you had anything particular to say on the matter." She paused, then shook her head.

"Pay it no mind. You may disregard the question." Given the mood, it might be best to leave it there. Silence returned. This time, Evelyne didn't look away. Her gaze lingered on Scarlett with a thoughtful intensity as she absently ran her fingers over the blanket in her lap. Eventually, her eyes dropped to Scarlett's left hand.

"…That ring," she said.

"I've been meaning to ask about it. Have you…managed to activate it?" Scarlett followed her gaze to the gold band on her finger, its deep red garnet stone glinting faintly. The [Hartford Garnet Ring].

"I have," she said with a slight nod. Evelyne's expression shifted, turning tentative.

"How?"

"Arlene showed me."

"Oh. You mean your…teacher?"

"Yes."

"I see…" Evelyne hesitated, then added, "You know, I could have told you how to do it as well, if you'd asked."

"I am certain that you could have," Scarlett said.

"But I had no desire to ask." Evelyne's mouth drew into a thin line. Scarlett watched her for a few seconds.

"…However," she continued after a moment, "it is…good to know that you would have helped. It is reassuring that your personal sentiment towards me does not interfere with your commitment to the house and its welfare." Evelyne blinked.

"You still think I don't like you?" Scarlett raised a skeptical brow.

"Are you suggesting otherwise?" It'd be weird if Evelyne didn't at least partially despise her, frankly.

"I—" Evelyne stopped, then exhaled softly, looking down.

"…Not exactly, no. I don't dislike you, though. But it's…complicated." She fiddled with the edge of the blanket.

"I didn't always dislike you, by the way. And even when I did, it wasn't the same as it is now. Things have changed." Scarlett crossed her arms.

"When, then, did you begin disliking me?" Evelyne looked up again, her face stuck between surprise and exasperation.

"What kind of question is that?"

"A reasonable one, considering what I have shared with you about my lack of memory." Evelyne frowned, staying silent for a long moment.

"I can't remember all of it clearly. But I do know that, when I was younger, I admired you. More than anything, I wanted your attention. I was too young to realise that you barely tolerated me back then. It wasn't until later—when you started growing colder—that I began to understand."

"And when was this?" Scarlett asked. Evelyne hesitated.

"…After Lady Lana died."

"Ah." So, it was after the original's mother passed.

"…As far as I am aware," Scarlett said, "I was distant even before that."

"I thought you couldn't remember those days?"

"I have seen glimpses." Evelyne looked slightly surprised at that, but quickly composed herself.

"…You were distant before then," she admitted, a hint of bitterness in her voice.

"But not in the same way. Back then, you were more…patient with me. And to me, that meant everything."

"Is that so?" Scarlett regarded her for a while longer, then turned her gaze back to the window. It wasn't the most graceful place to leave the conversation, but no more words came to mind — and Evelyne didn't seem eager to continue, either. The carriage rolled on, the rhythmic clatter of its wheels filling the quiet. Before long, they reached the estate. The guards opened the gates, and the carriage pulled up before the mansion. Scarlett was the first to rise as the coachman opened the door.

She stopped, watching Evelyne gingerly move to stand, her injuries slowing her. Scarlett gave a resigned sigh at the sight.

"Do not bother," she said.

"I will have you brought to your quarters and instruct Garside to bring you an evening meal. There is no need for you to strain yourself with unnecessary effort." Evelyne looked up, puzzled.

"What do you mean—" Her startled expression was the last thing Scarlett saw before the Loci's spatial manipulation whisked her away to her room. The coachman gawked, wide-eyed, as Scarlett stepped out of the carriage and crossed the courtyard towards the mansion's entrance. Inside, Garside waited in the foyer.

"Welcome back, My Lady," the elderly butler said with his usual polished bow.

"I hope the day's outing proved…worthwhile?" Scarlett began ascending the stairs leading to the second floor.

"I am uncertain whether 'worthwhile' is the right word. I have learned that I am not particularly adept at relaxing or enjoying myself. And the outing's conclusion was…complicated." A faint frown crossed Garside's face as he followed.

"Did this complication involve Lady Evelyne, My Lady?" The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"It did."

"My apologies. I did not intend for this to become a burden—" Scarlett waved a hand dismissively.

"Regardless of your intentions, what is done is done. Perhaps it was even for the best. In some respects, I suspect your goals for this outing were achieved, Garside." He paused for only a second before falling back into step.

"I am relieved to hear it. If I may ask — where is Lady Evelyne now?" Scarlett glanced over her shoulder, noting that he didn't ask about Rosa. So, he could be a bit sly after all.

"I sent her to her quarters," she said, turning forward again as she started making her way towards her office.

"See to it that she is brought a proper meal, and have someone examine her to ensure her injuries have not worsened."

"I will see to it at once, My Lady."

"Good. And ensure there is no dinner waiting for Miss Hale when she returns."

"Of course," Garside said, dipping his head. Then, after a short pause, he continued, "What are your plans for the remainder of the evening, My Lady?" Scarlett shook her head.

"What else would they be? I have an abundance of work to attend to after the interruptions of the day." Within a wide, peaceful chamber, the faint scratch of a quill on parchment mingled with the soft crackle of a fire nestled in an ornate hearth shaped like a coiled dragon, its scales wrought from gleaming bronze. Behind a crescent-shaped desk of burnished wood veined with gold, a large sun-shaped window dominated the far wall.

Amber glass panes caught the pale glow of the moon, refracting it into intricate patterns that danced across the bronze-red stone walls. Overhead, a mechanical sun orbited in slow, deliberate motion, its placid rays casting their own shifting shadows that made the room seem to breathe. On the desk, a clockwork sphere ticked gently, its rings spinning in synchronised harmony. Behind it sat a man draped in regal crimson, his mantle trimmed with gold, the hem brushing the polished floor.

He leaned over the desk, quill in hand, attention fixed on the neatly arranged documents before him. Two armoured figures flanked him, silent and unmoving. The First and the Fourth Swords of the Graenal Empire stood like statues, clad in resplendent white plate that glistened in the cool light. The Fourth Sword loomed tall, a greatsword resting point-down in front of him, while the First Sword's gauntleted hand rested lightly on the pommel hilt at his hip.

Neither showed any signs of life, though the subtle glint through their visors betrayed the watchfulness beneath. The chamber doors opened soundlessly, and a woman entered. Her stride was graceful and measured, her dark, elaborately embroidered gown flowing with each step. A high collar framed her sharp, elegant features, and her raven-black hair—swept neatly back—almost shone with a lustre of its own. She paused just inside the threshold, inclining her head briefly in deference, though her gaze remained direct.

The man behind the desk looked up from his work and studied her for a moment before offering a small gesture of acknowledgement. She stepped further in, the click of her heels muted against the thick carpet leading to the desk.

"You seem preoccupied, Your Majesty," she remarked smoothly.

"Would you prefer I return later?" The emperor tilted his head slightly, his gaze returning to the document before him.

"You're already here, Evelia. I assume this visit has purpose. Give me a moment." Evelia Blackwood, Arch Mage and Imperial Advisor to His Majesty, Emperor Gartelnas Articius Verddun Teronia, came to stand before the desk. Her gaze swept over the desk's contents—reports, sealed missives, carefully arranged scrolls—then lingered for a breath on a slim, plain-bound book tucked inconspicuously among them. It bore no markings, yet its presence seemed curiously out of place.

Still, she moved on without comment, though a subtle shift in her expression hinted at her interest. The silence stretched. Only the quiet scratch of quill and the ticking of the clockwork sphere filled the room. Evelia clasped her hands behind her back, waiting with calm patience. The First Sword turned his helmeted head slightly in her direction — a movement so small it was almost imperceptible. She met the gesture with a faint, knowing smile before refocusing on the emperor. At last, he set the document aside.

"Is there anything to report, Evelia?" he asked without looking up.

"A few matters of note," Evelia replied.

"The Western Merchant Alliance is still squabbling over their demands for concessions regarding the Empyreal Barrier. They are requesting that additional tariffs on Voneian and Raetian goods be lifted in exchange for their cooperation, and I have it on good authority that certain buffoons within the Diet are liable to support it." She scoffed.

"Meanwhile, the Shields Guild and scouts from the imperial army have reported increased monster activity and possible Tribe movements in the Faywild Basin. Sightings are spreading upriver past Farmire and toward the Resting Eye. Groups based in Fayrun, Faybarrow, Farmire, and Bridgespell are requesting additional resources to act preemptively." She tapped a slender finger to her chin.

"And there's been an incident in Steepmond. Two barons were found to have been practising necromancy in a collection of underground chambers beneath their estates." The emperor's gaze lifted, a faint frown settling on his face.

"Necromancy? Is it connected to the Undead Council?"

"Oh, almost definitely," Evelia said lightly.

"There isn't a necromancer in the empire who isn't tied to the Council." His frown deepened, irritation flashing in his eyes.

"How was it handled?"

"Decisively," the woman replied.

"Though I wouldn't say cleanly. It seems a third party dealt with them first — Marquis Delmon's men only discovered the aftermath. And now…" She paused, her lips curving faintly in a wry smile.

"Well, I'd say their state—and that of their followers—has rendered further punishment unnecessary, Your Majesty."

"Their state?" Her smile only widened, though her tone remained formal.

"I'm told the investigators are still collecting the pieces." The emperor eyed her.

"Have them determine how two barons in Steepmond contacted the Council and how they evaded detection for so long. And remind Marquis Delmon of his duty to prevent such oversights."

"As you command, Your Majesty."

"As for the other two matters — the Diet can do as they please. It does not matter. And Lord Graeme already holds the authority to deal with the monster sightings." He gathered several of the papers and placed them into a neat stack. Then his eyes fell on the leather-bound book resting on the desk. He stared at it for a few seconds before placing a hand atop it, as if lost in thought. Evelia watched without speaking. The silence stretched, broken only by the soft ticking of the clockwork sphere.

When the emperor finally spoke again, his voice was lower.

"Have you learned anything about my daughter?" Evelia arched a brow, though her expression betrayed no surprise.

"Any official reports concerning the First Princess would have reached you before they reached me."

"I'm not asking about official reports," he said.

"They've told me nothing new." She studied him for a moment, then gave a light shrug, her air changing slightly.

"If I had to guess, she hasn't been within the empire for some time."

"…Do you think she is in the Unresting Steppes?"

"It's likely." His expression tightened, a shadow passing across his face. His gaze drifted to a small portrait in the corner of the desk — a painting of a striking woman with flowing black hair and eyes full of quiet resolve. She wore a regal gown with solar motifs woven into the fabric.

"…To think everything would become so difficult, Rosalind, my dear," he murmured.

"Muttering her name won't change much, Your Majesty," Evelia remarked almost irreverently. The Fourth Sword stirred at her words, the faint rasp of metal against stone echoing through the chamber. He stepped forward a half-measure, one gauntleted hand tightening on the hilt of his greatsword. The air seemed to grow heavier. Before he could act, the emperor raised a hand. A simple, effortless motion — but enough to stop the knight in his tracks. The armoured figure stilled, though the tension in his stance remained.

Evelia offered the knight another half a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"No need for the dramatics," she said, then turned her gaze back to the emperor.

"And, if I may, you really ought to spend less time brooding over this particular matter. The princess will return to the empire soon enough. Things are stirring, after all." The emperor's head lifted slightly, his expression hard to read as he studied her. At length, his gaze dropped back to the desk, settling once more on the leather-bound book beneath his hand.

"…You're referring to Beld Thylelion's arrival." For a heartbeat, surprise flickered in Evelia's eyes — brief, but visible. Then it was replaced by amusement.

"It seems you're already well informed, Your Majesty. One wonders what use you have for me, then."

"The Followers, the mage towers, and a number of other factions have been looking into the matter," the emperor said steadily, though there was a subtle edge to his words.

"They've already confirmed its location. It's here, within Elystead."

"Oh?" Evelia hummed, tilting her head.

"So some people in the empire still know how to get things done without me. Makes one curious what particular influence lit the fire under them." The emperor ignored her. His fingers tapped lightly on the book's cover.

"Do you think my daughter will return because of it?" Evelia's amusement faded, replaced by a more thoughtful air.

"I would be surprised if she didn't. If she learns of it—and she almost certainly will—she'll come. That one is nothing if not persistent in her idealism. But…" She licked her lips.

"With the Followers and others involved, it will inevitably turn into a right mess once things start moving, Your Majesty." The emperor's brow furrowed. After a moment, he asked, "Do you know when it will reveal itself? When it will open?" Evelia let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head.

"I don't dabble in predictions, Your Majesty. If you're after a glimpse of the future, might I suggest an audience with the Augur?"

"The Augur is no longer in any condition to provide anything of value," the emperor said.

"Is that so?" she replied, though her tone carried little interest. She observed him for a moment longer, then gave another shrug.

"The revealment will likely be very soon. As for the opening? Who knows? Not me." The emperor's gaze sharpened on her.

"Will you involve yourself when it happens?" Evelia's mouth formed another light smile.

"Me? I'm merely your advisor, aren't I? My place is here, by your side. What possible business could I have meddling in something like that?" He didn't respond immediately, searching her face as if probing for something unsaid. At last, he leaned back in his chair with a serious expression. Evelia's smile widened slightly. She turned away, her gown rustling softly as she walked toward the centre of the chamber.

"I have more than enough to keep me busy here, I assure you," she said almost conversationally, her steps carrying her beneath the slow-turning mechanical sun. She glanced up at it briefly.

"Hmm… We'll have to see whether the empire will weather the storm that's coming."

"Do you think we are prepared for it?" the emperor asked. Evelia turned her head just enough to glance back at him.

"Prepared? Hardly. But at least you're trying." Her words hung in the air as she looked towards the entrance.

"That's all I had to report, Your Majesty. Since it seems you didn't require my advice today, I'll take my leave. I've no doubt you'll summon me if something pressing arises."

"Go," the emperor said, gesturing vaguely. The chamber doors opened without a sound, and Evelia slipped out. The silence that followed felt heavier in her absence. For a long while, the emperor did not move. His hand tightened around the leather-bound book.

"May Ittar's grace guide our way," he murmured.