Chapter 68 – The Brevity of Peace

A soft knock on her door made Valentina look up from her notes.

“Come in,” she said quietly.

Innogen slipped through the door, carrying a small linen-wrapped parcel in her hands.

“I thought you might need this.” She sat down on Valentina’s narrow bed and handed her the package. “My father sent it to me, but I want you to have it.”

Valentina carefully unwrapped the linen cloth. It was a beautifully bound journal, the cover made of the finest leather, the pages of cream-colored paper.

“That must have cost a fortune,” she breathed.

Innogen waved him off. “Father has invested in a paper factory in Vandercourt and now sends me things like this all the time. He always says paper will be so cheap in a few years that no one will buy parchment anymore. Well, I don’t know about that, but he’s convinced of it. Besides…” She hesitated. “You look a little worn out lately, Val. I thought I could make you happy with this.”

“Oh, how sweet,” Vyxara purred amusedly. “She always pays so close attention to your state of mind.”

“I’m fine,” Valentina said automatically.

“Really?” Innogen leaned forward, her blue eyes searching.”I mean, you don’t seem as down as Crispin, but…”

Valentina sighed deeply. “It’s just… everything that happened. It was exhausting. Gladder, the Illumination…” She hesitated. “Violet Delights.”

“Do you still work there?”

“Yes.” Valentina stroked the leather cover of the journal. “And before you ask – not because I… well, I mean, the money is good and, as you know, you can never have enough, but…” She searched for words.

“You like it,” Innogen finished softly.

Valentina nodded slowly. “Is that wrong?”

“No.” Innogen reached for her hand, stroking it. “You’re not hurting anyone with this. And if it helps you to be independent, to feel free and strong…”

They were interrupted by loud laughter from the courtyard. Valentina stepped to the window. Downstairs, a group of third-year students had set up a whole pig on a spit. The spicy aroma of the roasting meat wafted up to her attic room. “They’re roasting a pig!” she called out to Innogen in surprise.

“Come on,” Innogen said, pulling her towards the door. “Let’s go and see if they share.”

After a short time, a considerable crowd had gathered in the courtyard. The third-year students were indeed selling pieces of crispy pork for just a few coins, other students had brought tables and benches, and a barrel of ale had appeared from somewhere and soon they had a veritable fair going on.

The Decan and some professors observed the goings-on benevolently – after the gloomy months under Eastwald’s regime, no one seemed to want to deny the students this bit of harmless fun.

They found Crispin in a quieter corner of the courtyard. He was sitting on a low wall, a sketch on his knees. Hewas drawing the Burning Tower with a piece of charcoal.

“That’s really good,” Valentina said approvingly and sat down next to him.

“Thank you.” He smiled weakly. “I know I’m probably getting on your nerves already with the Martyr, but… it just calms me. The Martyr. The faith.” He faltered. “I have to think so often that if it weren’t for the Martyr, my soul would fall into the hands of demons, of Gladder’s masters, after death. I could have died this winter if you hadn’t helped me, Valentina, and then maybe…” He faltered.

“Both of us,” Valentina corrected, pointing at Innogen. “We both took care of you. And if I’m being completely honest – that night when you were at your worst… that’s when I prayed to the Martyr myself. I haven’t prayed for a long time before then.”

Crispin looked at her in surprise.

“You mean a lot to me,” she said quietly. “You know that, don’t you?”

“I know.” His voice was barely more than a whisper. “And you know exactly how much you mean to me.”

They sat next to each other in silence for a while, while the impromptu feast around them became even merrier. A few students had brought instruments and were playing for the dance.

Innogen pulled them both into a hug at the same time and Crispin took an audible breath, trying to pull himself out of his mood, and soon they managed to have a little fun. Valentina watched her two friends – Innogen, who was laughing and being asked to dance by Edgar, and Crispin, who was eating a piece of pork with bread and washing it down with a sip of ale. A fierce wave of affection and protectiveness flooded through her and she knew she would defend themboth with everything she had.

“You and me both, little Weaver,” Vyxara said simply.

~

The exams were approaching and Valentina knew that, despite everything that had happened over the last few months, she couldn’t afford to slack off. She had drawn up a detailed study plan for herself, Innogen and Crispin, taking into account their different strengths.

“We’ll just take advantage of your years of drilling with expensive tutors and you’ll goover our moves with us,” she opened up to Innogen one evening in the library, spreading notes and books around her. “You can do the most complicated moves in your sleep, so you can help us both improve our control and we can save on expensive tutors ourselves. Crispin is unbeatable at theory and Professor Veilford raves about his research into resonance patterns in every other lecture, so he’ll have to proofread and correct all our essays. And I…” She hesitated.

“You’re the best of us anyway, and after your time at Greystone Hospital you’re basically already a proper healer, so we’ll be good and stick to the study plans you’ve drawn up for us,” Crispin finished the sentence and grinned.

“You couldtell him that you had demonic help in making the study plans – I never get any praise,” Vyxara teased in her head, but Valentina simply brushed over the comment with a smile.

Librarian Matilda Ravencroft walked around the shelves with an Essence lamp, checking that no books had been left lying around. Since Eastwald’s visit, she had become even more fussy than usual. The thought of the Illuminator and his visit to Violet Delights made Valentina shudder inside, but she forced herself to stay calm and focus on the present.

Valentina had taken her forbidden books and the Eye of Deceit from the forest to her room. She only studied the artifact at night and under the strictest precautions. Vyxara helped her to contain the corrupting influences.

“Be careful with it,” the demon warned regularly. “Its power is subtle, but dangerous. It will change you without you even realizing it if you’re not careful.“

Her work at Violet Delights had helped her to become modestly wealthy – for her standards at least. Not only was she able to send money home regularly – for her parents to pay off the debts, but also a little for her siblings – but she also no longer had to scrimp on purchases for her studies orsmall personal pleasures that she allowed herself. The independence this gave her was exhilarating. In fact, she even considered moving into larger quarters for her final year and commissioning a new bed from a carpenter. She could hardly believe how happy the thought made her.

On a warm late spring evening, the three of them were once again sitting in the Burning Quill.Wilbur had served up fresh bread and cheese and they feasted on it with great appetite.

“What are you doing this summer?” asked Innogen, sipping her ale. Her voice sounded forcedly casual, but Valentina knew her friend well enough to hear the tension behind it.

“I’m going to Parliament in Vandercourt,” Valentina replied. “The duke has invited me.” She wisely concealed the more intimate details of her relationship with Cosimo – out of consideration for Crispin.

“And I’m thinking of spending some time in the monastery,” Crispin said thoughtfully. “I could do research with Professor Veilford again, of course, but I… I think I need a bit of time to recover and reflect.”

Innogen was silent for a moment too long.

“And you?” Valentina asked gently.

“Father writes that he wants me with him during Parliament to introduce me to the royal court. That’s probably where… arrangements are to be discussed.” Innogen’s voice turned bitter. “You know what I mean. Well, at least we’ll be seeing each other, Val.”

“Oh Innogen.” Valentina reached for her hand.

“I know, I know.” Innogen forced herself to smile. “Such is the life of a nobleman’s daughter.”

Crispin looked a little embarrassed on the floor, Valentine squeezed Innogen’s hand tightly and they drank in silence for a while.

“Here’s to us,” Valentina finally said, raising her jug.

“Here’s to us,” her friends echoed.

The way back to the university took them through thestreets of Bridgewater, with the Burning Tower and its eternal flame serving them as a landmark on their way through the night.

Valentina walked hooked between her friends and Innogen leaned her head on Valentina’s shoulder. Crispin improvised a poem about the seasons and had bet them that he would finishthe last stanza exactly as they walked through the university gates.

It was a good evening.