Chương 164: Chapter 25: The Warm Coal Near the Heart

The next day, with a clear head but a body heavy from an emotional hangover rather than alcohol, Selena pulled out the King's letter, which she had kept unopened. The thick parchment envelope was immaculate, the royal seal intact, a dune felis with a sword in its snout, stamped in dark red wax. With a precise movement of her penknife, she opened it and unfolded the sheet before her eyes.

The handwriting was flawless, that of a professional scribe, each stroke clean and measured, occupying the space with bureaucratic efficiency:"To Countess Isabella Elizabeth Selena of Solendra, Your Majesty summons you without a fixed date. Your request has been approved. The original volume, 'The Imaginary and the Comprehension of the Echo' by the hand of Eliud Volgthar, will be shown to you in accordance with your titles as Lady of the Circle of Wisdom and Guardian of the Ancient Artifacts.

Your Guardian ring will serve as proof and safe-conduct for an extraordinary audience the day you arrive at Your Majesty's palace. It is not necessary to give advance notice; present the ring to the Captain of the Royal Guard and you will be escorted. Sincerely, Frunciar, Chief Royal Scribe." At least he was clear and respectful of my time, Selena thought, letting a faint relief relax her shoulders. But I am glad it worked. The King, in his distant efficiency, had delivered.

She took the letter and put it away in a drawer of her desk, under a pile of anatomy notes. The mission now was to read Eliud's original book, unravel the secrets of foundational magic, and understand the first king not as a legend but as a man who had made a pact and paid for it; all of that was long-term. There was no rush, only the silent urgency of one who knows that knowledge is both a weapon and a shield.

Without anything else immediately to do, she stood up, determined to head to the workshop to continue polishing her technique, or perhaps to start a new sketch. But halfway there, as she crossed one of the university's shaded courtyards, she was intercepted by a young mail carrier, sweaty and wearing the dusty livery of the royal postal service.

The man recognized her instantly, he was the same carrier from last time, and without a word, extended an envelope with a hasty gesture, almost one of scatterbrained reverence. —For you, Countess —he muttered, bowing his head. Selena took the letter, and without even looking at it, pulled a silver crown from her pouch and handed it to him. The carrier nodded with mute gratitude and took off almost at a trot, disappearing among the stone arches. Only then did the countess examine the envelope.

To her surprise, this one did not bear the royal seal, but another, equally familiar yet more intimate: the golden hawk armed with a lance over a field of blue and green waves. It was the emblem of House Solendra. There was only one possible sender: Valerius. She sighed deeply; she could imagine, with a mixture of affection and apprehension, why he would send her a letter just now.

Instead of opening it right there under the curious gaze of some passing student, Selena detoured toward a quiet corner: one of the worn wooden benches placed under the generous shade of a Mantovivo tree, whose wide, green leaves whispered with the breeze. She sat down, feeling the coolness of the shade on her skin, and with careful movement of her small knife, opened the envelope.

The handwriting was not that of a professional scribe, but a firm, masculine penmanship, with energetic finishes and a slightly rushed slant, as if it had been written between one meeting and the next. Selena began to read: Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

"Dear Selena of Solendra, I hope your studies at the university are going well, and that Kaelburg is treating you with the serenity you deserve after... so much. I learned, from the manor's reports, that you were in Terracanto before your letter reached me. It gladdens me to know that you still consider that place a refuge, however imperfect it may be. My beloved daughter, I have reflected on your proposals. The one regarding the tax exemption for new businesses for five years, I will adopt.

It is bold, but it makes sense. If you want people to breathe, you have to give them space to grow. The other proposal, the one about incentives to improve tannery facilities... I am afraid it does not entirely convince me. The initial costs would be high, and the local nobility is already grumbling over the little I have taken from them. But I am not discarding it. I will study it further. Niece, among the reasons for sending you this letter, the main one is to notify you of a happy event.

My heiress has been born. Your niece, and my daughter by blood. Although, as you well know, to me you will always be my beloved daughter, regardless of blood or titles. I named her after your mother: Iris. Then, after my mother: Aura. And as a tertiary name, after my wife's sister: Cloe. Iris Aura Cloe de Solendra is a long name for a little girl, but full of legacies I hope she carries with pride. Come to the banquet for her birth, if you are not too busy with your royal and academic duties.

It will be in Lumenburg, at the beginning of autumn. If you cannot make it, I will not hold it against you, I know the life of a countess and resonant is complicated, but you will remain with the debt of coming to visit us when the road brings you this way. Little Iris should meet her cousin, the one who indirectly gave her first name. PS: Your birthday is approaching. I know that last year... the circumstances were exceptional. This year, I will send you a special gift on Calcar twenty.

It is a relief to finally know where you are located for the date. Sincerely, Valerius Theronius of Solendra." The letter was signed with an energetic stroke, and below it, the seal of House Solendra was stamped in dark blue wax. Selena held it in her hands for a long moment, letting the words resonate in the shaded silence. Another sigh, deep and laden with contradictory emotions, escaped her lips. She had one more piece of data.

Finally, almost a year after her arrival in Erabergh, she found out about her birthday: Calcar twenty. And the name of Selena's mother: Iris. She repeated it in a low voice, testing the sound, letting the syllable settle in her mind like one more piece of the puzzle of her identity. It was not just a name; it was a thread connecting her to a real family history, to a lineage of flesh and blood, not just to titles and duties. Furthermore, the girl... Iris Aura Cloe, her cousin.

A new being in this world who, somehow, carried a part of her legacy, the name of the woman who had been Selena's mother. A wave of warm and complicated affection flooded her, mixed with the sting of an insurmountable distance. Valerius, in his gruff but genuine affection, claimed her as family, included her in the celebration, and remembered her on her birthday.

It was an anchor of normalcy in the tempestuous sea of her existence, and at the same time, a reminder of all the layers of fiction and truth that composed her life. She tucked Valerius's letter into her bag, feeling the weight of the parchment as if it were a piece of warm coal near her heart. With her original purpose renewed, or at least with the need to distract herself from family implications, she continued her way toward the goldsmithing workshop.

The air inside the building was still and silent, permeated only by the residual smell of metal, wax, and dust. She looked for Meilan in her tidy space but found it empty. On the neat workbench, upon a piece of clean cloth, a note had been carefully left. She stepped closer and picked it up. The handwriting was surprisingly elegant for a fourteen-year-old girl: long, curved strokes with an artistic fluidity that spoke of a hand accustomed to drawing and design.

It read:"I went out to look for minerals in one of the caves of the Keib village, on the slope of the great Mount Talan that adjoins the university. They say there are veins of bluish silver and moonstones that cannot be found anywhere else. I will return in about fifteen days. Do not mess up my space. With love, Meilan." Selena smiled slightly at the final warning, but the sigh that followed was deep, heavy with disappointment. Little Meilan would not be around.

She had grown accustomed to the young goldsmith's methodical and biting presence; her absence left a tangible void in her routine. She considered, for a moment, making the long journey to the royal capital, presenting the ring, and demanding the audience with the King to see Eliud's book. But she shook her head. She did not have the energy to plunge back into the theater of the court, not yet. Then she considered the trip to Lumenburg for the banquet of Iris's birth... but she shook her head again.

The idea of traveling for weeks, of facing ducal protocol and the emotional intensity of seeing Valerius with his newborn daughter felt overwhelming.