The entryway didn’t open straight into the hall. It fed into a long, torch-lit passageway that ended at a pair of towering wooden doors.

  Nobles crowded the corridor in tidy lines, conversation dying the instant we appeared. Heads turned, eyes narrowed, and children our age mirrored their parents’ suspicion. I was recognized before I took three steps then. Rather convenient.

  “A rather long queue,” I whispered.

  “Not for us,” Damian murmured back. “Or rather, not for you. I’m just a Viscount’s second son.”

  Anias cut smoothly to the front. A brief word with the crier, a nod, and she beckoned us forward.

  Whispers trailed me as I walked. Hard to think I wasn’t meant to hear them.

  “…thinks she can simply skip the line…”

  “…hardly more than a whelp…”

  “…Veyne or not, the nerve…”

  Most remarks came from houses aligned against us, most likely. Supportive voices were rare; my father never cared to court allies, except those essential for his Ducal responsibilities, and even the strongest alliances corrode without maintenance. Mending this was something I intended to begin tonight.

  The crier bowed low when we reached him. His face was passive. “Lady Veyne. An honor to be the crier on your debut. How would Your Ladyship like to be announced?”

  I had rehearsed this answer for days. I met his gaze and smiled. I felt a pressure in my mind, as if the Godblade had chosen this moment to pay special attention to.

  “The Ghost of House Veyne.” I gestured to Damian. “Accompanied by her Shield.”

  A flicker of mischief crossed the crier’s face. “As you wish.”

  Bold.

  I almost let my surprise show on my face. The Godblade had largely been silent for some time now. It chose this moment to speak up?

  The crier stepped through the doors. Light spilt out, blinding after the dim corridor. His voice rang clear and practiced.

  “Presenting Lady Esra Veyne -the Ghost of House Veyne! Accompanied by Damian Everstand, her Shield!”

  “Good luck, My Lady,” Anias said softly, stepping aside. Naturally, she couldn’t follow me inside. It was the same reason I couldn’t bring Sere along.

  I took a breath, then offered Damian my hand. “Shall we?”

  He took it. Together we walked into the light.

  Light struck me from every direction at once.

  Crystal chandeliers the size of carriages blazed overhead. Marble floors veined in green stretching beneath a ceiling painted with the Golden Five’s sigils. An orchestra played, its music swelling smoothly above the chatter.

  Dozens of eyes locked onto me at once. The music stopped, if only for a moment. Young Lords and Young Ladies stared openly. More wizened Lords and Ladies made a great show of shooting me the most neutral smile they could muster.

  The silence was shattered with the voice of one man.

  “Come now, we finally get to see the heir of House Veyne.”

  Duke Julian Greenward stood at the center of the crowd, clothed in a lavish green coat with four emeralds sewn into it. His profile appeared regal, but his conduct always seemed to diminish him.

  “Do greet the heir. The Ghost.” Duke Julian smiled. He raised the glass he held in his hands. As soon as he did, the dam broke.

  People started to clap. It was obvious even without my Gift that most of these people didn’t actually mean it, though some did. I had seen the portraits of everyone I intended to speak to today here. Most of those faces…did not look very enthusiastic at all.

  “Now, do enjoy yourselves, everyone.” Duke Greenward said, projecting his voice. “I do have a most wonderful announcement for later in the night. Till then, I do hope you all enjoy the night, and remember the generosity of House Greenward.”

  The clapping stopped. At least some of the eyes that had so readily been fixed upon me went away. Unfortunately, that also meant that people approached.

  “It is good to finally meet you, Lady Veyne. Here, I thought I might never get the chance.” Count Roderick Sterling said.

  “Aye, Adrian did make you sound like quite the frail thing. He was a doting father, though, and what father doesn’t want to see his little girl like that?” Count Casser Vance added.

  They were both towering men, but cut from different cloth. Sterling stood as rigid as the stone walls he commanded, a jagged scar framing his jaw.

  Vance, draped in a silver monster pelt, wore a predatory smile that belonged to the untamed wilds beyond the gates he so often ventured out into.

  Both were powerful men. Many of my father’s most important retainers filled this mould. That made my appearance a problem, not one I could do anything about.

  “You two are too kind,” I said, curtsying. “I believe it is simply that he wished for me to be ready first. Do pardon my forwardness, but your reputations do precede you.”

  The two men looked at each other, looked back at me.

  “You are rather well-mannered. No wonder Adrian was so proud.” Count Roderick smiled.

  These were two of the three Counts under my Household, two of my father’s three most important retainers. On paper, anyway.

  Count Roderick turned to Damian, acknowledging him with a nod. “And how is your father, Damian? It warms these old bones to see someone swear themselves by the old ways. Warms it even more to see the next Veyne accept, just like her father.”

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  “My father is quite well. He speaks often of your bravery, My Lord.” Damian tipped his head. “And I am grateful to Lady Esra for being understanding. I…might have been excessive in my swearing, I’m afraid.”

  That was an understatement.

  As it happened, House Everstand was directly under House Sterling, which was in turn directly under my own.

  Aelheim had grown into a massive city, but even it felt crowded under the weight of so many nobles.

  It was easy to forget that Aelheim was a gilded cage. Almost a hundred years ago, the Second Demon War had reduced the other great cities of the Western Provinces to ash. The surviving nobility had fled here, the last bastion of humanity in the West. The Ten Gods had stopped the Demonic Horde, but the corruption lingered.

  Because of that retreat, this ballroom was currently stuffed with men and women holding hollow titles. There were Counts of burned valleys and Viscounts of dead rivers who now governed nothing more than a few city blocks or merchant guilds. Those were the lucky ones. Most of these men were simply slightly more successful business owners.

  The only thing these men had were centuries-old traditions, and their fine clothing, which surely stretched their already dwindling finances. That's why it was mostly adults here today. Noble children in Aelheim attended the smaller functions where 'shabbier' clothing could go undocumented.

  It was no wonder that many Nobles had already left the city for greener pastures. It would not be wrong to say that Aelheim's Nobility largely consisted of people clinging to the past.

  True authority was far scarcer.

  Under House Veyne, there were only three Counts who actually mattered inside the city walls: Sterling, Vance, and Calloway.

  House Veyne performed two large functions -the defense of the city and the management of its District. It didn’t do it on its own.

  It did it by delegating to those three Counts, who delegated those tasks further. Anias had been taking on this administrative burden for me since my father fell ill, but I couldn’t rely on her forever. If I wanted to truly control my District, I only had to manage the people at the top of the pyramid.

  These two men had been the first to find me. The other nobles had hung back, doubtless to see how things would play out from here.

  “It is a rather fine event, is it not?” Count Sterling said, lightly raising his glass. A dark liquid swirled inside it. “Though I confess, looking at that glass roof, I can only think of how easily a Wyvern could shatter it. It is all a matter of priorities in the end. Tell me, Lady Veyne, what do you think?”

  The first test, then.

  “If a Wyvern were to shatter said glass,” I smiled slightly. “Then I would think House Sterling and House Veyne have not fulfilled their duties very well. It is not that some men value aesthetics over practicality. It is that some men value practicality so that others may have the chance to value aesthetic.”

  There was a pause at that.

  Count Sterling was staring at me. Whatever answer he had been expecting, this hadn’t been it. “Of course, I, myself, am a more practical kind of person.” I gestured towards myself.

  “Honestly, I find myself quite stifled by even what I’m wearing today. Alas, a practical person also knows when aesthetic itself is practical, do they not?”

  Count Sterling nodded slowly. He was an honest man, as far as his expressions went. He didn’t know what to think, which, given the prior conceptions he doubtless had, was most certainly a good thing.

  “Don’t bore the girl with dull hypotheticals, Roderick,” Vance chuckled. He turned to me, smiled down. It didn’t reach his eyes. “We deal in realities. Speaking of which, My Lady, my expedition recently returned from the Ashen Wastes with a rather spectacular prize. A high-tier Wyrm Core.”

  “By tradition, the Wyrm Core belongs in the Ducal Vaults,” Vance said, taking an exaggerated sip of his wine. “But with your father gone and the weight suddenly on such… slender shoulders, I thought it kinder to keep it safe in my own vaults. For now.”

  Damian moved to step in front of me. I gently brushed him aside. He moved back smoothly.

  “Of course.” I smiled back at Count Vance. How shameless. Blatant corruption hidden under the veil of a favor. Of course, it was so shameless and blatant that it could only really be a test.

  “Count Vance, you are truly too considerate,” I said, smiling no differently for him than I did for Count Sterling. “I admit, the transition has been overwhelming. To know I have retainers willing to guard my property so fiercely in my absence is a great comfort.”

  Vance’s smile widened. He opened his mouth to speak, but I didn't let him.

  “Since you have already gone through the trouble of securing it,” I continued, “you can simply have your quartermaster deliver it directly to Veyne Manor by noon tomorrow. I wouldn’t dream of burdening your treasuries with my property for a moment longer than necessary. Space in Aelheim is at a premium, after all.”

  Vance’s smile stiffened. Sterling’s scarred jaw twitched -was he trying not to laugh? Damian let out a strangled cough. He had laughed.

  “Of course, My Lady,” Vance said finally. “It will be there by noon.”

  Defiance?

  The Godblade murmured, distantly. Why did it phrase this like a question?

  “Excellent,” I said brightly. “I do so love efficiency. And of course, I am going to more thoroughly evaluate all expeditions that leave the city.”

  He paused and regarded me with some hostility now. I waved him off. “Not to curtail them, mind you. I think we should have more expeditions, not less.”

  Count Vance was easy to understand. The man was in charge of leading expeditions outside the city walls, and his purse had grown fat from it. Normally, I disliked greed quite a bit.

  In this case, the man’s greed was satiated by him doing something actually useful, so I didn’t mind.

  “She might be a lot sharper than Adrian let on.” Roderick finally sighed.

  Count Vance sighed, too. “Indeed. Perhaps he was keeping her away from us for our sake instead.”

  While I did certainly appreciate the light praise, this wasn’t actually supposed to be hard.

  My father had courted House Vance and House Sterling for a very long time, and even without him here, it wasn’t like all that goodwill would go up in flames overnight. The Nobles under these two men would doubtless just follow their lead now.

  There were tiny pinpricks on my skin. A man and a woman stood near the hallway entrance, a large Scrylens in front of them. Evidently, they’d just focused that device's attention on me. How lovely.

  "Do excuse me."

  I turned away from the two Counts and spotted a third group just off to the side. One that had been quietly watching my interaction with the two Counts. I walked over to them, stopped in front of the man who stood at their head.

  Unlike Lord Casser or Lord Roderick, this man was short, thin, and…almost a little sickly. His face had noticeable frown lines, and he wore a far simpler black tunic than the Lords I had just spoken to. He eyed me both suspiciously…and with no small amount of hostility.

  The Lords and Ladies behind this man were whispering. That whispering died when they saw me.

  I curtsied. “Lord Gideon. My apologies for not greeting you sooner.”

  The man paused, stared at me. This man was Count Gideon Calloway, the man in charge of the more…mundane affairs of our District. Affairs such as road paving, managing Magical Implements, managing waste disposal, and social welfare.

  All of these were tasks that my father had never paid much mind to.

  “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, My Lady.” Count Gideon said, cautiously. “I see you were conversing with the Shield and the Spear.” There was an odd bitterness in the tone. The kind that came from a bitterness one had long since accepted.

  “Indeed, they are both remarkable men.” I smiled. “Of course, I find your own efforts in maintaining the Veyne District no less remarkable.”

  There was a pause. I could practically feel a new tension in the air, some of it coming from this man in front of me, some from the nobles standing behind him.

  “You do?” He finally asked.

  “Yes. I’ve gone over the various reports you’ve sent over the last few weeks in some detail.” I nodded. “I must say, your handling of the populace in the face of those near riots was quite important. The other Counts owe you a great debt. The House of Veyne owes you a great debt.”

  I lightly tipped my head.

  “M-My Lady…please raise your head.”

  I looked up to see the man staring at me, hands raised in front of him, his eyes wide. He wasn’t the only one. His retainers looked much the same.

  “I simply wish for you to know that I have many interests. Maintaining the walls and fighting the horrors that lie beyond them are simply two of them.”

  Lord Gideon looked like he was caught between twenty different warring emotions at once. Father, why did you neglect this man so? Honestly, I didn’t have that much interest in this side of things either, but it was important!

  I did want to speak to Viscount Vespera as well, but I didn’t see her in attendance. It was my understanding she didn’t like attending events like these. Oh well.

  “I will keep that in mind, Lady Veyne.” The man bowed low; his retainers bowed with him.

  “In fact, I wish to speak to you about a certain matter…soon.” I smiled. “Do let me know when would be a good time.”

  “A-any time at all, Your Ladyship.”

  “I will hold you to that.” I smiled and turned. I had shown him more attention than my father had in who knows how long, but that was just the start of repairing things.

  So far, things were going rather well.

  “Presenting Lady Violet Indri!” The crier's voice boomed out, stopping everyone in place. The orchestra stopped, and the chatting nobles peered at the entrance. I was among them. “The heir apparent to House In-

  Perhaps things had been going too well.

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  Should I make a brief glossary chapter documenting all of the characters in the story so far?