Chương 168: Chapter 29: The Feather Between Two Swords

A week after the cheerful echoes of her birthday, Selena headed straight to Meilan's workshop, hoping to resume her metalsmithing lessons and perhaps show her the gifts she had received. But the space remained immaculate, silent, and empty. The note was still there, and there was no new trace. The little girl had not yet returned from her expedition to the caves of the Keib people on the slopes of Mount Talan.

The air in the workshop smelled of cold metal and hardened wax an aroma that had once been familiar to her and now tasted like absence. Selena ran her fingers along the edge of Meilan's workbench, feeling the fine dust that had accumulated over the days of emptiness. The little metalsmith, always strong, followed her path, she thought, while I waited here, trapped between duties, chains, and golden cages. Something surprised her greatly as the days went by.

The university walls, once bare, began to fill with paper posters bearing campaign promises. Some were longer than others, but most were sensible proposals: adjustments to the tax rate, reforms to the rules and laws of the university city, changes to the draft percentage for levies, and the election of local judges. The smell of fresh ink and paper paste permeated the corridors, blending with the scent of dry summer earth filtering through open windows.

Selena ignored many on the main noticeboard, her eyes sliding over the words without truly seeing them. Local politics, the disputes of free citizens, the promises of candidates... all of it belonged to a world that, despite her titles, continued to surprise her. It was the world of those who had a voice, those who could choose, those who were not fully bound to the will of a king or the shadows of conspiracy as she was.

Turning around, she nearly collided with Maya, who was right behind her with her hands almost at Selena's head, likely intending to surprise her by covering her eyes. The movement was so unexpected that Selena felt the brush of her friend's breath on the back of her neck before seeing her. —I wanted to give you a surprise —the alchemist said hurriedly, her hazel eyes shining with a mix of frustration and affection— but you turned around. How is it that I can never sneak up behind you without you knowing?

The countess laughed, a soft, light sound that faded into the murmur of the hallway. She shook her head just twice, a gesture of affection rather than reproach, and then spoke in an equally soft voice. —I'm sorry, Miss Healer —she said, a crooked smile forming on her lips— but the Void always guides us to our destiny. The words, an echo of Jester's teachings, tasted of memory and an inevitable truth.

Selena remembered where they came from; they were the ones Valerian had told her so long ago, when everything was confusion and she was barely beginning to understand the rules of the echo. —I'm sorry, Maya —she added, her voice softening— Perhaps the future won't let you surprise me. Maya sighed, a theatrical exhale that puffed out her cheeks and made her look like a disgruntled child.

But the disappointment lasted barely a second; the spark of her character flared up again, and both of them began walking toward Kaelburg, leaving behind the university corridors and the campaign posters. The conversation unfolded with the ease unique to two people who understand each other, who share common ground, who know one another and let the world forget time so their conversations can last forever.

The scent of freshly baked bread and summer flowers mingled with the bustle of the city, which moved at its own unhurried pace. —The local mayor is running for re-election —the healer explained, letting out a sigh of exasperation as she pointed to one of the posters pasted near an inn— I don't know who to vote for. It's my first time; in fact, I don't even know if I should. Selena looked at her, puzzled.

After all, in her mind, this world was entirely an absolute monarchy, subdivided into great duchies and feudal lordships. Voting was something her young friend shouldn't lose; it was an anomaly in the machinery of power she had observed for over a year. —I thought there were no elections —she said, her tone reflecting genuine confusion.

She looked at Maya, who observed her with a look of surprise that soon transformed into a knowing smile— But I would vote for someone who at least wants to improve the working regulations for the population. Maya burst into an involuntary laugh, a clear, crystalline sound that drew the gazes of a few passersby. —Selena —she said that her voice carrying the tone of someone explaining the obvious to an oblivious child— only free citizens with land rights or, failing that, government officials get to vote.

She turned and pointed into the distance at the imposing silhouette of the Royal University, its towers silhouetted against the clear summer sky. —Studying here as a free person also gives you the right to vote in Kaelburg —she continued, her words flowing with the certainty of someone who has internalized the laws after studying them— because we will spend many years studying and will be citizens. The countess nodded at every word, her mind filing the information away with clockwork precision.

Maya, seeing that her friend was listening attentively, added more details, like someone unraveling a mystery. —Nobles don't vote in commoner elections —she stated, her tone turning slightly more formal, as if imitating a professor— Instead, they directly appoint the authorities who represent them. She then stopped in front of an inn that smelled of freshly cooked food, the aroma of bread and spices enveloping them like a promise.

The wooden sign, weathered by wind and rain, bore the name"The Witch's Cauldron" painted in red and gold letters that flickered beneath the midday light. —I understand that, my dear countess —Maya continued, a mischievous smile lighting up her face— that you might wish to belong to the common folk, but your status does not permit you to vote in these elections. You are far too distinguished for us. This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Selena was about to object, her mouth opening to articulate a protest she knew was futile, but Maya finished with a slight bow, a gesture so exaggerated that the corners of her lips were already trembling with suppressed laughter. The alchemist's face flushed red, and she erupted into laughter, a torrent of joy that infected the surrounding air. The countess merely made a face, puffing out a single cheek in a gesture of pure feigned frustration.

—By my grand distinction of golden chains and immense cages —Selena said, giving her voice a tone of mock solemnity that rivaled court heralds— I, Isabella Elizabeth Selena of Solendra, Duchess of Solendra, Countess of the Royal Court of Erabergh, Lady of the Circle of Wisdom, Guardian of Ancient Artifacts, Protector of the Health of Erabergh, declare upon all my titles and power that you, Maya of the Whispering Forest, shall be my guest to a spectacular lunch.

Maya, who had forgotten her joke upon seeing the solemnity with which her friend recited her titles, laughed again as she realized Selena was offering her a free meal. The alchemist's laughter was like the chiming of glass bells, a sound that seemed to dispel the shadows that always lurked at the edges of Selena's consciousness. —Oh, Your Grace! —the healer declared, bringing a hand to her chest in a gesture of exaggerated devotion— I accept this honor granted by your blood of the highest nobility.

I promise you with my life that it will be the most thoroughly enjoyed meal, only if you eat with me. Both were laughing now, a shared sound that rose above the street noise. It was impossible for the two of them to take each other seriously, and that lightness, that ability to forget the weight of their destinies for a moment, was the most precious gift they had given each other. Laughing, they entered"The Witch's Cauldron." Contrary to how other inns usually smelled, this place was exceptionally clean.

The wooden floor shone with a fresh polish, and the tables, though worn by use, were spotless. The scent of high-quality beer and good harvest ovin hung in the air, blending with the aroma of fresh herbs and freshly baked bread. Selena even thought they might serve Varlof here, the liquor she had only ever tried alongside Ralien. They took a seat at a table near one of the glass windows. The midday sun was already warm, and the summer rays, filtering through the fogged panes, traced golden patterns on the wood.

Both decided to order a light salad with grilled mollucapra, a dish that smelled of meat and herbs, promising to be as comforting as the company. While waiting for the food, they spotted Ren approaching in the distance alongside Zorn. They were walking with a young man Selena had completely forgotten existed: Corin, the poet. His slender figure and contemplative stride contrasted with the martial energy of his companions, like a feather between two swords.

All three waved upon spotting them from afar, and just a few minutes later, they were taking seats at the girls' table. They ordered more food and drinks, the clinking of tankards and plates, setting the pace for a gathering that promised to be long. However, Corin unlike Ren and Zorn, who had ordered yuñas with charcoal-grilled ornitura, ordered only salad. Not even meat. The aroma of fresh vegetables and vinaigrette rose from his plate, a contrast to the smell of roasted meat emanating from the others.

—We were just talking about something —Zorn mentioned that a knowing wink lighting up his face. Ren looked at him with the same gleam of complicity in his eyes— Norma is one of our classmates. Since she takes an elective with Corin, we went to talk to him. Maya instantly picked up on what the boys were implying. Her hazel eyes sparkled with the flash of someone who has solved a riddle before it has even been fully posed. Selena, however, wore the unmistakable confusion of someone who seemed not to understand.

The alchemist nudged her with an elbow and whispered in her ear, her warm breath brushing Selena's skin. —He likes her. The countess flushed slightly out of sheer embarrassment, a blush spreading from her cheeks to the roots of her hair. Maya then turned to Ren, her tone mixing curiosity with a hint of mischief. —I hope you didn't give her intestines as a gift like in your story. The trainee soldier quickly shook his head, a gesture so energetic that lock of his hair danced over his forehead.

But it was Zorn who explained his voice was heavy with barely contained amusement. —Don't deny it —he said as his friend looked at him with a mix of disappointment and resignation— That was exactly what he wanted to do. I told him he'd never win a woman over like that. That's why we brought in Corin.

—You said you wouldn't tell the girls about trying to give her the dish of intestines —Ren protested, clearly annoyed, though not overly so; it was embarrassment more than anything that colored his cheeks— The point is, they take an elective together poetic preceptics. Selena merely ate slowly, chewing each bite of mollucapra with the focus of someone who needed an anchor in the tangible, while the boys seemed to carry far more on their shoulders than the curse of the resonants.

The smoky flavor of the meat, the freshness of the herbs, the crunch of the vegetables... everything was a reminder that, despite conspiracies and wars, ordinary life moved forward. Only then did Ren take a deep drink from the tankard of beer the waitress had brought, the golden liquid leaving a line of foam on his upper lip. —She's married —Corin said, his voice bearing the cadence of a troubadour reciting a ballad— Her life is bound to those souls that fly between disparate loves.

The poet paused, his long, delicate fingers playing with the rim of his salad plate. —He didn't want to believe me —he continued, a melancholy smile gracing his lips— but I mentioned to him that she is the daughter of a great salt merchant from Verrion. She inherited the mines from her first husband at seventeen; he died in a bandit raid, and her father sent her to study here so she could learn to defend herself and not depend on a man. Ren and Zorn sighed then, almost giving up the battle for lost.

It was a tale they had heard before, a story that had lost its freshness after being repeated across multiple conversations. —It seems she took her father's words very seriously —Corin proceeded, his voice this time filled with a longing that had nothing to do with defeat— for just two days ago, no less, I saw her leaving the church of the Order of Lumen in the merchants' square. A living love, between two strong women. Now she goes by Norma of Liknor.

Seeing her smiling hand in hand with the Viscountess of Liknor was quite a surprise. Selena looked at Maya. The alchemist nodded as if she had known all along that her friend was foolish and was merely having it confirmed. Ren shook his head, stopping only once to take a long drink from his beer tankard, as though the liquid could wash away the frustration of an impossible love. So, marriage isn't limited to men and women, Selena thought, once again struck by how the world could surprise her in a single day.

The scent of beer and food mingled with the revelation, creating an atmosphere of intimacy and discovery. I don't think Aelthra allows the union of two people of the same sex, she continued her reflection, her mind trained in the twists and turns of theology and philosophy beginning to weave connections. They would surely argue against the natural flow.

She could almost picture the priests of Eternal Sap, with their green and brown robes and affected voices, exhorting the faithful to follow the straight path of the Flow. Yet here were people changing their faith, seeking refuge in the Order of Lumen or other less strict cults to attain happiness without relying on the Church. A resistance that had always existed in human society, a silent challenge to the structures of power that sought to control even the most intimate affections.

Selena smiled, a smile that held neither irony nor bitterness, but recognition. At the table, surrounded by friends who carried their own stories of love and heartbreak, she felt that, for a moment, the weight of her titles and her missions vanished. All that remained were the laughter, the aroma of food, and the certainty that, in this world of golden chains and conspiracies, love still managed to find its own paths.