Night settled over the Eryndale manor in a quiet, watchful hush.
Aveline sat by the window of her chambers, a single lamp glowing beside her desk. Snow drifted beyond the glass, slow and unhurried, while the North slept.
She tapped her fingers lightly against the wood.
The North bleeds potential, she thought. And no one is bothering to stop it. Not that they don't want to. They just can't. At least not by themselves.
Aveline exhaled slowly and began organizing her thoughts.
Rune work was a specialization. One that required precision, patience, and structured instruction—things the North had never had the luxury to invest in. The few mages here were scattered, self-taught, or limited to basic elemental casting. None were systematically trained in inscription, mana channeling into minerals, or long-term rune stability.
Which meant only one solution made sense.
A mage guild.
Aveline has toyed with the idea before. When Atelier had become stable. She wanted to do gather mages. The idea never really bore fruit in the East, since there were already plenty of guilds there. But maybe the North could be different.
The North did not really have a mage guild. But they had a headquarter for mages. Aaron visited it in hopes of getting more information. But the guild she heard about from Aaron wasn't what she had in mind. The current guild focussed mainly on attack magic—not defence or runes.
The guild themselves needed approval from the emperor to be built. They needed to explain their purpose, give information on their members, and share research results.
But a merchant doesn't really need a mage guild so to say. While it could function as one, Evora would create not a mage guild, but a manufacturing factory. One where rune stones are created. She didn't need the empire's authority for that.
Not one bound to the Crown.
Not one controlled by the South.
A guild in the North, for the North.
She envisioned it clearly—structured training, tiered learning, apprentices taught how to listen to mana rather than force it. Instruction on carving runes into quartz safely. Workshops where Solen Quartz, Frost Vein Crystal, and other northern minerals could be refined locally.
The North wouldn't need to export raw stone anymore.
They could sell finished rune products instead.
Cheaper. Faster. Independent.
And profitable.
Aveline's lips curved faintly—not in greed, but in certainty.
Caelum will never approve this if it comes from me.
She didn't delude herself.
As Duchess, she was tolerated at best. Watched at worst. Any proposal she made directly would be met with suspicion, resistance, or outright rejection.
Which meant the proposal couldn't come from Aveline Eryndale.
It had to come from Mistress Evora.
She reached for a fresh sheet of parchment and began sketching the outline of the lie—not hastily, but carefully. A good story was like a well-crafted rune: every line deliberate.
Evora would be introduced as a southern mage-merchant, independent, unaffiliated with the Royal Family. A woman who dealt in runes, quartz refinement, and magical machinery.
Her reason for approaching the North would be simple.
The first would be profit. A merchant is driven by profit, and there was plenty to be gained in the North. But that reason alone won't be sufficient to have Caelum agree to the idea. What she needed was to build trust. And thus came the second reason.
Alden Eryndale.
Aveline's hand paused briefly at the name.
Alden had stayed in the East. He had trained someone there. That much was true—or at least, believable. The North knew he had traveled. They knew he had acted beyond convention.
Evora, then, would be the mage Alden once taught.
Not a disciple. Not a successor.
Just someone who had learned enough to respect the land he loved.
"She saw the North's struggles," Aveline whispered, thinking it through. "And she saw opportunity."
Profit was important.
Caelum would trust profit more than sentiment.
Evora would propose the establishment of a mage guild dedicated to rune training, funded privately, operating under Northern law, and paying dues directly to Eryndale.
No Crown involvement.
No royal oversight.
No hidden chains.
In return, she would gain permission to recruit mages, refine quartz locally, and sell rune-inscribed products—at prices affordable enough to strengthen the North's infrastructure.
Heating runes for homes.
Barrier plates for villages.
Lighting crystals for streets.
Not weapons.
Not yet.
Aveline leaned back in her chair, eyes half-lidded.
He will test her, she thought. Probe her motives. Question her allegiance.
That was fine.
Mistress Evora was used to scrutiny.
And Aveline… had patience.
If Caelum agreed—even partially—the North would begin to change. Slowly, quietly, but irreversibly.
And once the foundations were laid…
She smiled faintly.
Whether as Evora or as Duchess, the North would prosper.
Caelum just didn't know yet that the plan had already begun.
*************************
Aveline did not rush the proposal.
That alone set it apart from everything the North was accustomed to receiving.
She cleared one side of her desk entirely, stacking away ledgers and correspondence until only blank parchment remained. Then she began to organize—not as a duchess seeking permission, and not yet as Mistress Evora asking for favor, but as a strategist preparing for scrutiny.
The first document she prepared was context.
The North's strength lay beneath its soil.
She listed the known mines Tomas had uncovered—iron veins stretching deep into the eastern ridges, clusters of quartz in the frostbound hills, Solen Quartz deposits scattered but underutilized. She noted export routes, quantities, and the simple truth that most of these resources left the territory in raw form. No refinement. No added value.
Profit lost before it was ever counted.
The second document addressed capability.
From Aaron's findings, she compiled numbers carefully: how many mages resided in the North, how many were trained formally, how few had any experience with rune inscription. She highlighted the gap—not as a failure, but as a missed opportunity. Talent existed. Structure did not.
She wrote it plainly:
The North does not lack power. It lacks instruction.
Next came solution.
Aveline outlined the concept of a Mage Guild—not one bound to noble blood or royal decree, but a professional institution. Its purpose was narrow and deliberate: training mages in rune theory, mana control, and quartz inscription. No combat. No political allegiance.
She emphasized three points repeatedly:
The guild would train local mages first
It would utilize Northern resources
It would sell runes at competitive prices, undercutting southern monopolies
A separate page detailed logistics—housing for mages, workshop requirements, security measures, and most importantly, oversight. The guild would operate transparently within Eryndale territory, subject to inspection if demanded.
She knew Caelum would look for hidden blades.
So she removed them herself.
Then came risk assessment.
Aveline wrote this section last, choosing her words carefully. She acknowledged potential concerns: misuse of runes, black market trade, political suspicion from the Crown. For each, she provided a countermeasure—registration marks on products, controlled distribution, distance from royal academies.
Nothing emotional. Nothing defensive.
Just answers.
Finally, she prepared the financial outline.
Startup costs. Expected return. Timeframes.
She made sure the numbers were realistic—modest even. Profit was shown not as immediate wealth, but as stability: local employment, retained resources, gradual economic growth.
She did not sign it as Aveline Faylinn.
Nor did she sign it yet as Mistress Evora.
That would come later.
For now, she stacked the pages neatly, bound them with a simple ribbon, and placed them into a leather folder—unmarked, unassuming.
Aveline leaned back in her chair, eyes closing briefly.
This was not a plea.
It was a foundation.
And when she finally placed it in Caelum Eryndale's hands, it would speak for her long before she ever did.
************
Aveline spread the papers across her desk one by one, arranging them not by importance, but by inevitability.
The proposal was nearly complete.
Numbers were clean. Projections realistic. Risks acknowledged but controlled. The plan to establish a rune-focused mage guild in the North—training local mages, refining quartz within the territory, reinvesting profits—was sound. Profitable. Sustainable. Most importantly, independent of the royal family's direct grip.
What remained was not what to present, but how.
Mistress Evora could not simply appear before the Duke of Eryndale without raising suspicion. Caelum already distrusted her—no, distrusted Aveline. A stranger from the East bearing opportunity would be scrutinized even more harshly.
A knock came at the door.
Lina entered quietly, posture careful.
"Your Grace… a message from the capital."
Aveline looked up.
"It concerns the Duke," Lina continued. "His Grace Caelum Eryndale has been summoned for his formal confirmation. The Emperor wishes the newly wedded Duke and Duchess to attend together."
Aveline stilled.
Confirmation.
The ceremony that would mark Caelum not merely as ruler of the North in name, but in the Empire's official record. Court attendance was mandatory.
Which meant—
The imperial court.
The Emperor's hall.
Neutral ground.
Aveline's gaze drifted back to the documents on her desk.
The South was a place of introductions masked as formalities, of meetings disguised as coincidence. Merchants, nobles, guild representatives—Evora would not be out of place there. In fact, a business proposal aimed at strengthening a border territory would be welcomed.
Slowly, a plan took shape.
Evora would request an audience through the proper channels. Not as a supplicant, but as an investor with interest in northern resources. By the time Caelum realized who stood before him, the setting would already demand civility.
No private chambers.
No ability to dismiss her outright.
Witnesses everywhere.
Aveline gathered the papers and stacked them neatly.
Fate, it seemed, had decided to intervene.
If Caelum would not meet Evora by choice, then the Empire itself would make the introduction inevitable.
And this time, she would be ready.
*************
If she wanted her plan to succeed, she would need Everett's help. Everett would be the perfect person to introduce Evora to Caelum. Not only was Everett removed from politics, he was well known as a businessman.
The problem was on how to communicate her plan to Everett. She couldn't go into too much detail. But she could let him know the gist of her plan so Everett could have most things ready. If she waited to talk to him after reaching the South, it wouldn't leave enough time for him to plan.
For that, there was no better way than to use their code.
They had devised the code before Aveline left, knowing that their conversations had to be kept secret. The letter was simple, a sister writing a letter to her brother. For anyone else, it would be a letter that did not demand much attention. But for the two siblings, it held information that only they needed to know.
**********************
Preparation for their departure was going well. Aveline was informed of their visit South and was already preparing to leave. Caelum could only hope this visit would end quickly.
He was sat at his desk, giving a final look to the documents before he would be away for days when the butler came in.
"My Lord. As you instructed, we have been keeping an eye out on the duchess. This was a letter she wrote to send down South." He handed the letter to Caelum.
The wax on the letter had already been removed, no doubt by the butler. Caelum unfolded the letter.
To Everett,
I hope the estate is as unbearably quiet without me as I imagine it to be.
A letter to her brother. Caelum had received reports that the second son of house Faylinn was quite close to his sister. He continued to read.
Life in the North remains cold, but orderly. The manor runs as expected, and the days pass quietly enough. I do miss home sometimes. I miss Anna and her cooking. Especially during the early mornings when the air was still warm and forgiving.
The servants here are efficient, though distant. Northern customs differ from ours, but I am learning. The Duke is often occupied, and I spend most of my time reading, observing, and preparing for future responsibilities.
I found out that I will be visiting the South soon with the Duke. I am overtook by excitement at the thought of meeting you again. I hope you find time away from your businesses and to have tea with me. Although I would understand if your businesses and Evora are keeping you busy, I would love to have you meet my husband. While I may not sure that passion, I'm sure he would be happy to discuss business talks with you like any other gentleman. He his a kind man, and I would never be able to repay the kindness he has shown be, but I could always try. I hope you will watch over me as I do.
I look forward to meeting you.
Your sister,
— Aveline
Caelum found nothing out of the ordinary, besides Aveline's insistence on him being kind. Aveline and him hadn't so much as spoken much other than those rare times. Perhaps she did not want to worry her brother.
Whatever the case, the letter held no real significance. It only talked about information on Caelum visiting the South, but that was already well known every where.
Without any further thoughts, he instructed the butler to reseal the letter and send it. Not realizing that he failed to read the message hidden cleanly within the ink:
I want Evora to be introduced to Caelum as a business partner.
But that was not something he could have deduced, for it was something only the siblings would understand.