Chapter 69 – Summer is Coming

The mood was excited among the second-year students as they gathered for the grading ceremony. The main hall of Bridgewater University filled up quickly. Valentina stood between Innogen and Crispin, their hands clasped tightly together.

“I think I wasn’t this nervous even before the Greystone competition,” thought Valentina.

“Oh, you have a very short memory,” Vyxara mocked in her head. “You were a bundle of nerves.”

The Decan Valemont stepped up to the podium, followed by a number of professors.

Professor Emberfell was as straight as ever, but had a friendly smile for the students, while Professor Whitehall stood next to her in a relatively simple dress that was already showing green stains again. She had probably been working in the herb beds for the medicinal herbs early in the morning again. Professor Veilford stroked his well-groomed beard pompously.

“Quiet, please!” shouted the Decan, and the excited conversations fell silent immediately. “As you know, this year has been… extraordinary.” He cleared his throat. “The… interruptions caused by theinvestigation have put us all to the test. Nevertheless, you all have proven yourselves worthy students of our great university.”

Valentina felt Innogen squeeze her hand even tighter. Crispin sighed with excitement and tension.

“We will now announce the results,” continued the Decan. “Let’s start with the theoretical exams.”

“Ashbourne, Innogen!” Innogen stiffened beside Valentina. “Excellent in practical Essence Weaving. Professor Emberfell particularly emphasizes her precision in complex patterns. Excellent work, Lady Innogen. The Marquess will be proud.”

The results were read out in alphabetical order and Valentina felt a strange pang when she noticed that Faustus’ name was not mentioned. She wondered briefly if he had managed to escape across the border. “Don’t worry about him,” Vyxara purred. “He may be a bastard, but he’s not stupid either. He’ll find his way.”

“Gillespie, Crispin!” exclaimed the decan. “Outstanding achievements in Essence geometry, especially his research on resonance patterns.”

Crispin blushed as sporadic applause broke out. Professor Veilford nodded approvingly at him.

Then, finally: “Valentina of Palewood!”

Valentina held her breath.

“Highest distinction in medical application,” announced the Dean. “Professor Whitehall strongly recommends her for the Master Weaver courses in the healing arts.”

Professor Whitehall stepped forward. “Valentina has shown exceptional talent and willingly shared her knowledge,” she said in her warm but penetrating voice. “Her already vast practical experience and unusual theoretical approach to the healing arts bodes well for the future.”

Valentina felt a blush rise to her face. She had worked hard for this, but the public praise from the popular professor almost overwhelmed her.

“See?” whispered Vyxara with satisfaction. “All those nightly efforts have paid off. And I don’t just mean the ones in the library.”

After the announcement, the three friends hugged each other tightly. “We’ve done it!” cheered Innogen.

“We need to celebrate,” Crispin said with a broad smile. “Burning Quill tonight?”

“Definitely,” Valentina agreed. She felt light, as if a heavy weight had fallen from her shoulders. Another milestone on her journey had been reached.

“And the next one is already waiting,” Vyxara reminded her gently. “Summer in Vandercourt opens up so many possibilities for us.”

“Come on,” she said and hooked up with both of them. “Let’s have lunch. I’m starving.”

~

After lunch, Valentina returned to her attic room with a thick letter from home that she had received during lunch. She sat down by the window in the light and carefully broke the simple wax seal.

Her father’s careful handwriting filled the first few pages. His words radiated a calm contentment that she had not felt from him for a long time. The debts were finally paid off, he wrote, and for the first time in years they could breathe freely again. His effusive gratitude for her “generous support” and his admonition that she should also express this gratitude to the duke made Valentina cringe inwardly – obviously her parents assumed the money was somehow coming from the duke.

“Well,” Vyxara purred amusedly, “technically, it’s from high-ranking men.”

“Shut up,” Valentina murmured as she continued reading.

Her mother had enclosed a letter of her own, full of hidden questions about her welfare and the unsubtle concern that only mothers are capable of. Between the lines, Valentina read the unspoken question of whether the duke was really treating her well – she seemed to have her own thoughts about why the duke was being so generous to her. Not completely unfounded, of course.

Adeline’s news was pure enthusiasm – she had used some of the money Valentina had sent for lessons with the village scribe. Her handwriting had already become much more elegant. “Just think,” she wrote, “maybe one day I’ll be able to study too! Not Essence Weaving, of course, but the scribe said there’s a university in Vandercourt for people who can’t weave Essence.”

Valentina smiled wistfully. The gap between her current life and her family was widening yet again. Thomas had drawn a picture for her under Adeline’s message – she recognized herself putting out the Burning Tower with a bucket of water. She couldn’t help but laugh at it.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. She got up and opened the door.

A messenger, who had probably not made it in time for lunch, stood before her and reverently handed her a sealed letter. The Greystone coat of arms was emblazoned in dark wax on the envelope.

Valentina gave the messenger a few coins and waited until he had left before breaking the seal. Cosimo’s elegant handwriting filled the expensive paper. The letter began formally, as it should, but became more personal with each line.

His anticipation of their reunion during Parliament in Vandercourt was clear, even if he couched it in socially acceptable phrases. In between innocuous descriptions of the preparations for their arrival – rooms near the Duchess were already set up in his townhouse in Vandercourt – were subtle allusions to their intimate moments together.

“Oh, how cleverly he worded that,” Vyxara commented with amusement. “If the letter fell into the wrong hands, no one would be able to prove anythingindecent.”

He wrote to tell her when his train would stop at Bridgewater to pick her up on the way to Vandercourt. A postscript mentioned “certain arrangements” that would please her. Valentina frowned as she tried to untangle the political strings the duke was obviously pulling.

“You’ve charmed him more than he would ever admit,” Vyxara remarked thoughtfully. “He’s cautious, but his longing shines through every line. We can use that, but we also need to be vigilant.”

“What do you mean?”

“Parliament will be a nest of vipers,” the demon explained. “Every important noble in the realm will be there, each with their own ambitions and intrigues. You are the mistress of the Duke of Duskenshire – that will make you enemies either way.”

“Let them come,” murmured Valentina.

“You shouldn’t take this lightly.” Vyxara sounded almost parentally concerned. “You have to be careful. But it’s also an opportunity, of course. The right moment, the right allies…”

“I know, Vyxara.” Valentina carefully folded both letters together – the one from her family and the one from the duke. They were like symbols of her two lives, growing further and further apart. “I’ll be careful and always try to position myself well.”

~

Valentina entered Violet Delights through the familiar back entrance for the last time before she left for Vandercourt. The sweet scent of violets and dark musk enveloped her like the embrace of a familiar lover. Putting on her “Lily” persona now felt as natural as putting on a well-worn dress.

“Ah, there you are.” Madame Dolorosa was already waiting for her, elegant as ever in a fantastic purple dress. “Come on, the others are waiting.”

The other courtesans had gathered in the private salon. Rose beamed at them while Violet leaned against the window with a glass of wine. The small room was warm from the open fire and the smell of sweet pastries.

“I can’t believe you’re going to see the capital!” enthused Rose. “You really must tell us all about it when you get back.”

“As if she could,” Violet snorted in amusement. “We don’t even know our real names.” But her smile was warm, without any resentment.

“They’ve really grown fond of you,” Vyxara remarked. “Even though they only know your mask.”

“Why shouldn’t they? I only know their masks myself and I also am fond of them both,” Valentina replied quietly.

Madame Dolorosa clapped her hands softly. “My dears, let us toast. To our Lily and her journey.” She filled fine crystal glasses with golden wine.

After the toast, she pulled Valentina aside. “I have a parting gift for you.” She opened a small casket and revealed a delicate silver ring in which Valentina could recognize a sophisticated pattern. “A small illusion artifact. Not as powerful as ours. It only changes the color of the wearer’s eyes – nothing dramatic, purely cosmetic.”

Valentina was speechless. Such artifacts were valuable, even if this one only had a modest effect.

“Madame… thank you,” she whispered.

“It’s my pleasure. I hope you enjoy it,” said Madame Dolorosa quietly. “Sometimes all you need is a little change to reinvent yourself.”

Later, Madame Dolorosa led Valentina into her office to do the final accounts. The sum that had accumulated over the months was impressive.

“You’ve managed your money wisely,” the madam remarked approvingly. “Most people your age would have spent the money long ago.”

“I have plans,” Valentina replied. “Supporting my family, building up reserves for the future. After the third year, I want to work as a Master Weaver – I’ll be able to put the money to good use.”

Madame Dolorosa nodded with satisfaction. “And you won’t have to put yourself in the hands of moneylenders or banks. You are your own woman then. That’s worth more than all the gold in the world.” She closed the books. “Do you know why I value you so much?”

Valentina shook her head.

“Because, like me, you understand that we always have a choice, even if it doesn’t seem like it. Sometimes you just have to be creative enough to recognize your opportunities.” She smiled mischievously. “Usually, I’d tellyou now that I’m very reluctant to let you go – and I am – but after all, I know you’ll be back.”

“Why do-“

“Because, again, like me, you’ve understood that it’s not just about money. It’s about power. About control over your own life.” She winked. “The Violet Delights won’t run away from you. A summer at Vandercourt will give you new perspectives. I’m excited for you.”

Valentina felt the blush rise to her face. But Madame Dolorosa was right – she would return. Not because she had to, but because she wanted to and enjoyed the freedom she had worked hard for.

“And what sweet freedom that is,” Vyxara purred contentedly.

~

The afternoon before her departure was quiet and already uncomfortably hot. Valentina stood in her attic room and looked thoughtfully at her belongings. The beautiful clothes she would pack for Vandercourt lay neatly spread out on her narrow bed – a sea of colors in lavender grey and dark red.

“Always an impressive sight,” commented Vyxara.

“Flatterer,” Valentina murmured as she carefully folded a lavender grey dress.

Vyxara chuckled in her mind. “Not in the slightest.“

Valentina had bought a new chest from a friend of Hobkin, which was a masterpiece of deception with a false bottom. In it, carefully wrapped in waxed leather, she kept the Eye of Deceit and her forbidden books.

She methodically sorted her Essence tools. Distillation vessels, finely cut absorber crystals, brass compasses for geometric patterns – she had meticulously packed everything in padded boxes. She had also packed the medical instruments that Hazel had given her.

“Most of the books stay here,” she said to Vyxara as her fingers stroked the worn bindings of her medical works. “I won’t have much time to study in Vandercourt.” She would only take her two forbidden books with her, safely hidden in the prepared chest.

It was getting dark outside. Valentina stepped to the window and looked out over the familiar rooftops of Bridgewater.She liked this town, and she would miss it.

“Are you ready for the capital?” Vyxara asked gently.

“I think so,” Valentina replied quietly and stretched tiredly. “But I’m nervous.”

“Then you should lie down. It’s late and the journey will be exhausting,” Vyxara warned her. And Valentina followed the demon’s advice. But around midnight, she was woken up bygentle knocksthat roused her from her half-sleep.

When she opened the door, her breath caught in her throat. Innogen stood in the dim light of the corridor lamps, her otherwise immaculately coiffed golden hair was disheveled, her face marked by tears. She held a crumpled letter in her trembling hand.

“May I…?” Her voice broke.

“Of course.” Valentina quickly pulled her inside and closed the door. “What happened?”

Instead of a reply, Innogen pressed the letter into her hand. The Ashbourne’s seal was already broken, the expensive paper stained with tears. Her father’s elegant handwriting was still clearly recognizable.

“Oh dear, that was to be expected,” Vyxara muttered in her head.

Valentina skimmed the lines. The Marquess wrote of “pleasant news” and “long-awaited arrangements”. The Duke of Duskenshire and the Marquess of Timberpine had finally come to an agreement. The engagement between Lady Innogen and Lord Lorenzo would be officially announced during Parliament in Vandercourt.

The rest of the letter was a cold list of political details – lands to be signed over, titles to be reorganized, Innogen’s dowry already fixed. Nowhere was there even a question about Innogen’s feelings or wishes.

“Oh, Innogen.” Valentina pulled her friend towards the narrow bed. They sat down next to each other and Valentina pulled her trembling friend into a tight embrace. Innogen sobbed unrestrainedly on her shoulder.

“Lorenzo is a good man,” Valentina whispered gently as she stroked Innogen’s back reassuringly. “He’s kind, clever and he would never hurt you on purpose.” Those words hurt – the memory of her one stolen night with him under the chestnut tree was still too fresh.

“That doesn’t make it any better!” Innogen lifted her head from Valentina’s shoulder, her blue eyes shining with new tears. “I believe you that he’s not a monster! But he’s… he’s…” She broke off.

“The duchess will help you,” Valentina tried again as she gently stroked a golden strand from Innogen’s tear-streaked face. “She’s clever and understands the workings of the court better than anyone.She’ll be good to you. And in Vandercourt, I’ll be there too, all the time. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

With each comforting word, Innogen only seemed to grow more desperate. She slipped away from Valentina, sobbing as she shook her head.

“She’s not crying for the reason you think,” Vyxara remarked, amused, but refusing to explain more.

“You just don’t get it.” Innogen’s voice was barely more than a whisper. She was all tear-stained and red-eyed, but her face was suddenly etched with fierce determination.

“And what is it thatI don’t understand? You can tell me!”

Instead of an answer, Innogen slid closer to her.There was a vulnerability in her eyes that took Valentina’s breath away.

And then, between one heartbeat and the next, Innogen kissed her.

The kiss was tender, desperate and revealed everything. Valentina froze, her mind racing with realizations – all the little moments of the last few months – maybe years even? – that suddenly reoriented themselves, forming a whole new pattern.

“Finally,” Vyxara purred contentedly. “I thought she’d never have the courage.”

When their lips parted, they stared at each other for an endless moment. Valentina shocked, Innogen with both fear and wild courage in her eyes.

“Now you get it,” she whispered.