Three weeks had passed since the fall of William de Croul. Isfellan now resembled a busy anthill; Vaine-Castell technicians worked side-by-side with Northern miners to install steam pipes along the newly reinforced fortress walls. The once-thick scent of sulfur had been replaced by the aroma of machine oil and hot iron.
However, inside her new office, Anne Marie Vain was staring at a letter sealed with deep purple wax—the seal of the Aethelgard Empire.
"The Emperor is beginning to feel uneasy," Anne said without turning as she heard Harold's footsteps. "News of the 'cleansing' of Isfellan has reached the capital. They do not like seeing a Northern wolf and a Western banker shaking hands without their permission."
Harold approached, placing his sword on the table. "Did they send an envoy?"
"Worse. They've invited us to the Spring Equinox Banquet in Aethelgard," Anne handed the letter to Harold. "Technically, it's a celebration of our marriage. But politically... it's a trap to see if we can still be controlled."
Harold read the letter with a furrowed brow. "If we refuse, it will be seen as an act of rebellion."
"That is why we will bring Isfellan with us," Anne's eyes flashed. "We'll bring the first steam engine prototype. We aren't going as subjects seeking a blessing, Harold. We're going as a new power they must reckon with."
In the main workshop, Caine was supervising Rainnes as she assembled a small circuit. "Not like that, Rainnes. You have to insulate the resonance coils," Caine corrected, though his tone was softer than usual.
"Mr. Vaine... are there many 'voices' in Aethelgard too?" Rainnes asked suddenly.
Caine paused for a moment. He remembered his late father's stories about their mother. "Our mother used to hate that city, Rainnes. She said Aethelgard is a place where crystal lamps are used to hide the darkness in the corners. She fled from there to build a business in the West with Father."
Caine gazed at a small portrait of their mother kept inside his pocket watch. To him and Anne, their mother was simply a noblewoman who chose the path of trade over dirty palace politics. They never knew that the woman they remembered for her gentle smile had once led the most feared ranks of mages in the Aethelgard Magic Tower.
That night, on the fortress balcony, Anne stood watching the line of ships preparing to sail.
"Our mother always said Aethelgard is a place where humans lose themselves," Anne murmured as Harold stood beside her. "I want to prove to her, even though she's gone, that we can return there and still be ourselves."
Harold nodded slowly. He didn't know much about the Vaine family's past, but he could feel the same tension: they were all heading into the lion's den.
"In that case," Harold said, looking up at the stars. "Let's show them how a wolf and a banker dance on their own ballroom floor."
Unbeknownst to them, in a hidden chamber at the summit of the Aethelgard Magic Tower, an elder stared at a glass artifact that had begun to glow after years of dormancy.
"The leader's blood has returned to the gates," the figure whispered. "And she brings iron and steam with her."