Chapter 5, part 1: An Invitation from Power

“Sometimes, even the sharpest questions cannot pierce the thick armor of secrets with which we surround ourselves. But every question is a step toward understanding, which can lead to something greater.”

The early morning, before the first rays of sun touched the windows, was shattered by a sharp knock on the door. I opened my eyes a moment before the sound tore through the silence of the room—my body had been living in anticipation of this moment for several days. I had felt too many eyes on me in the academy corridors lately. Most likely, it was related to the rumors about my Order magic, which always aroused a special interest among teachers and students in this world.

Catherine stirred in her bed, her breathing changing—she was clearly beginning to wake. No wonder: even the deepest sleep could not muffle such a persistent knock. Quickly throwing on my uniform over my nightshirt, I went to the door to find out who was disturbing us at such an early hour.

The door opened, and a tall woman in the uniform of the royal guard entered the room—her posture and gaze spoke of many years of service. She surveyed the room with a sharp eye, lingering on Catherine, who sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes.

“Artalis Feda Nox?” the woman said, ignoring Catherine. “Her Highness the Heiress wishes to speak with you,” she added without further formalities, as if every word were carved from steel.

Catherine froze, her eyes widening in surprise. She looked at me, then at the guardswoman, trying to understand what was happening. Her fingers instinctively clenched the blanket, betraying her inner tension.

“Is it something serious?” she asked, addressing me. Her voice was hoarse from sleep, but anxiety was already palpable in it.

“Everything is fine,” I replied, in my usual cold and indifferent tone. “Stay here. I’ll be back soon.”

The guardswoman cast another cold glance at Catherine, as if assessing how much of a problem she might be.

“Hurry,” she said, turning to me. “Her Highness does not like to wait.”

I nodded, casting a final glance at Catherine. There were too many questions in her eyes. I calculated that this event would introduce a new vector of instability into my relationship with her. But right now, I had neither the opportunity to stay nor a full understanding of the situation that awaited me.

Following the guardswoman to the third floor of the prestigious building and down to the last door on the floor, we stopped before what seemed to be an ordinary door, no different from the others in this dormitory. However, I knew that this room had been combined with four others. When I crossed the threshold, I realized that everything here had been remodeled for the purpose of housing the heir to the throne.

These were luxurious royal chambers, where every detail emphasized the importance of its occupant. Golden patterns on the walls intertwined with magical symbols, creating complex patterns that served not only as decoration but also as protection against outside interference. The scent of rare flowers that permeated the air was familiar to me and created associations related to power and control.

Evelina Valtheim sat in an elegant armchair with light upholstery, maintaining an impeccable outward calm. On her right hand was a modest signet ring with the Valtheim coat of arms—the only open display of her royal lineage. A small ruby pendant on a thin gold chain peeked out from under the collar of her academy uniform shirt—a subtle hint of her status. It was ironic that the academy rules had no clauses stating that the heir to the throne had the right to deviate from the academy's charter and wear non-regulation jewelry.

Overall, the room, or rather, the reception hall, was a bright space filled with royal energy. Evelina literally radiated influence and power, and this invisible energy seemed to spread in rays to all, even the most remote parts of the room.

Before me was a young woman of about nineteen, with a noble pallor and regular features that might have seemed cold if not for the warm honey hue of her eyes. Her dark hair was gathered in a neat bun, from which a few playful strands escaped—the only hint of the youth of the owner of this royal room.

Despite her youth, she possessed a maturity rarely found even among upperclassmen. A high forehead, straight posture, and a majestic pose spoke of a long-standing habit of power, although she had yet to officially ascend the throne.

Her movements held the grace of someone who spends a great deal of time at official receptions and ceremonies, yet maintains a naturalness and ease in communication.

“So, you are the Artalis Feda Nox from the Tarvarian Empire,” she said, examining me like a rare specimen. Her honey-colored eyes, which had seemed warm at first glance, now pierced me through, as if trying to solve a puzzle. “I have been informed of your successes at the academy, especially in Order magic. I am speaking not only of your classes but also of your excellent scores on the entrance exams.”

I bowed my head, playing the role of a respectful student. My mask was flawless: a calm expression, a slightly bowed neck, slightly relaxed shoulders—everything indicated that I was just a student honored by her presence. But inside, I felt a slight revulsion at the need to follow such rituals. All these games of power had always been alien to me, but now they crossed red lines and were too intertwined with my mission. I knew that my every gesture, my every word would be weighed and analyzed. Evelina was not just observing—she was studying me, as if I were one of her thousands of courtiers.

“Do not bother,” she cut me off, her voice cold but with a hint of irritation. “First, I will introduce myself, although I suppose you already know who I am. But given your position as a foreigner, etiquette demands it. I am Evelina Konrad Valtheim, the rightful heir to the throne of Valtheim, the only daughter of the current queen, Margaret Freya Valtheim.” Evelina paused, letting her words hang in the air, then she looked at me again and smiled faintly. “I suppose you have many questions about why you are here?” She looked at the guardswoman standing behind me, who quickly left the room, closing the door behind her.

“Yes, Your Highness. I dare say the matter is very important and urgent,” I hinted, indicating the early hour of our conversation.

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Evelina smiled slightly and continued, “I suppose you may be unaware of our… family traditions.” She paused to gauge my reaction again, as if enjoying the effect of her words. “Since Aelind and Ildri Valtheim sacrificed themselves to the Gods of Dreams to save our country from imminent catastrophe, we have had a tradition: only a woman can be head of state. However, some men, especially given the patriarchal nature of our society, always want to find loopholes.” Evelina paused again.

I looked at her, and my eyes reflected absolutely nothing, but it was clear what she was getting at. She needed a service that, for some reason, could only be provided by me.

Meanwhile, she continued to speak, “My older brother, Frederik, is plotting against me, and he is supported by the nobility, so I cannot trust anyone local…”

Her words were calculated for effect. She wanted me to feel special, chosen. But I saw her tactic: to create an illusion of trust to lure me into her web. However, her tricks were too obvious to me, although I could not deny their effectiveness.

She slowly rose from her chair and approached me. Her steps were measured, almost ceremonial, but in every movement, there was the confidence of someone accustomed to commanding. Her fingers, adorned with the signet ring bearing the Valtheim coat of arms, swayed slightly, as if she, without realizing it, was drawing attention to her lineage. “And you… you are a stranger here. You have no reason to take sides. And yet…” She stopped a few steps from me, her gaze becoming even more perceptive. “Your abilities in Order magic, in other types of magic, and even in fencing—they are unique. Not every young lady can boast of such talents. I especially liked your sword training with your roommate in the clearing in the woods.”

I froze but maintained a neutral expression, understanding that this was the moment when one wrong move could ruin all my plans. It was surprising that I hadn't felt the presence of others when Catherine and I were training, which meant we were being watched from a distance and without the aid of magic. Perhaps the observation was conducted from one of the academy’s watchtowers, but it was too early to jump to conclusions. Evelina was merely seeking an ally—someone she could trust in her fight for the throne. She was smart, but her intelligence was limited by human constraints, which made her predictable.

“I am merely a student, Your Highness,” I replied cautiously, trying to make my voice sound soft but firm. “My knowledge of magic and fencing…”

“Do not feign modesty,” she interrupted me, her eyes glinting with a cold light. “I have seen you in action, heard about you and your Order magic. I have studied your biography and exam results. You are perfect, Artalis, even if you do not admit it.” She paused, giving me a moment to absorb the weight of her words. “But what is more interesting—I have noticed that you do not use Chaos and Light magic. This is very strange, considering that almost every student with magical abilities has a predisposition to them…”

Her last phrase was uttered with a hint, as if she knew more than she was saying and was trying to lead me to some thought that I was supposed to finish myself.

“I offer you a place in my personal guard,” she continued, her voice becoming even firmer. “Not now, of course—you must finish the academy. But after…” She paused, her lips curving into a cold smile. “You could become an important figure in my game. My right hand. My weapon against those who wish to steal my throne.”

I watched her carefully, analyzing her every word. This was the art of manipulation—she was offering me what she thought I might desire: power, influence, recognition. However, I needed none of it.

She slowly circled me. “After graduation, you could become a valuable resource. Not just part of the guard, but my confidante. Someone who can act where I cannot.” Her voice was almost a whisper.

“However,” she stopped in front of me, “I understand that you may be… cautious. Therefore, I have another proposal.”

Evelina returned to her chair and took a small scroll from a drawer. “This is a copy of one of the most important laws of the Kingdom of Valtheim. According to it, every heir to the throne must have a personal mage-guardian until their coronation. It is an ancient and necessary tradition for the coronation.” She handed me the scroll. “I offer you the position of my personal mage-guardian. Formally, it is only a symbolic role, but it will give you access to everything: libraries, archives, closed meetings. You will be under my protection and patronage until you decide to become something more.”

I looked at her skeptically. Neither access to knowledge, nor to archives, and certainly not to secret meetings, interested me. However, she might be able to help me in my mission, but talking to her about it now was too dangerous.

“Before you think of refusing,” she added, seeing my hesitation, “consider this. A refusal of this role will be perceived as an act of hostility. No one rejects an offer from the heir to the throne without serious consequences. Especially when it concerns ancient traditions and the succession to the throne.”

Her words hung in the air again. Now I knew: this conversation was the beginning of a new game, where everything would become even more complicated than before.

“A personal mage-guardian?” I allowed my voice to sound slightly surprised, as if the offer had caught me off guard. “Your Highness, allow me to remind you—I am only a first-year student. A foreigner who has only recently arrived in the kingdom of Valtheim from the Tarvarian Empire.”

I paused, observing her reaction. Her eyebrows rose slightly, but she remained calm. For me, this was a good sign—she was not used to her offers being discussed.

“Furthermore,” I continued, tilting my head with a naive expression, “I do not quite understand why I, in particular, have aroused your personal interest. Are there not more experienced students at the academy? After all, I am only sixteen, and I still do not understand much about… politics.” I said the last word with a slight hesitation, as if it were new and unfamiliar to me. Although, in reality, every word I spoke was a carefully calculated move, and the mask of naivety was the perfect tool to achieve the effect I desired.

Evelina watched me carefully, her eyes narrowing slightly. She was clearly trying to determine how sincere my “naivety” was. After a few moments, having likely drawn her own conclusions, she looked at me with a new, deep gaze, and her lips curved into a barely perceptible smile.

“Artalis,” she said, and a new firmness appeared in her voice, contrasting with her previous tone. “It is precisely your youth and… your particular way of looking at things that make you a suitable candidate. You have not yet had time to form strong ties here and become mired in the intrigues that have long engulfed the entire kingdom.”

She came closer, her eyes narrowing as if she were re-evaluating me.

“I value talent, especially when it is combined with a certain… flexibility of mind.” Evelina paused, giving me a moment to absorb her words. “But I cannot reveal all my cards until you agree to serve me. It is too dangerous—for both of us.”

She glanced at the door to the next room, then back at me.

“I believe a blood-pact will resolve all our misunderstandings,” she continued, assuming I had not understood the seriousness of our conversation. “It is a standard procedure for personal mage-guardians. In case of betrayal…” She did not finish the sentence, but her hint was obvious. “And yes, Artalis, the matter is urgent. You have only twenty-four hours to think.”

I allowed myself a short nod, accepting her position. A blood-pact would put me in a dependent position, but even from such a situation, I knew ways out that were far beyond the understanding of Blood magic by mortals.

“Allow me to ask a question, Your Highness. Why now? Why is this so important?” I asked, to get at least some hints or answers.

Evelina smiled—coldly and calculatingly.

“Let’s just say that time is working against both of us. And the reasons are far more serious than a simple political struggle. But you will learn the rest only after signing the pact. And now you may go.” She smiled at me again, waiting for me to leave her room.