Book 3: Chapter 5 – Opportunity [Part 2]
Book 3: Chapter 5 - Opportunity [Part 2]
Together they climbed the marble steps to the grand oak doors and strode down a once-bustling corridor now empty save for echoing portraits. Dust motes floated in diagonal shafts of sunlight as Frest knocked, the door to Principal Hegandia’s office swung inward with a soft groan.
The man who greeted them seemed greatly reduced, his cheeks hollowed, academic robes hanging like drapery on a skeleton. Curiously, the weight loss lent him a certain hawkish dignity.
“Miss de Sariens, Master Frest,” he said, shuffling behind his dark wooden desk. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”
“I was curious, Principal,” Seraphina replied, voice syrup-smooth yet edged, “why the Academy looks as though the plague visited.”
A breathy chuckle escaped him. “After the Dragon attack, I deemed evacuation prudent. We could ill afford tragedy amid our student body, least of all the… among the nobility.” His eyes flicked toward her. “We shall remain on hiatus until calm and peace return. Frankly, I hadn’t expected you… I had thought you would be halfway back to your father’s lands by now. Surely, word must have reached you?”
Seraphina noted the tremor in his hands as he stacked parchments. Stress or age?
She decided to ignore his question for the most part. “Regrettably, I had obligations in the city and was quite busy,” she said, flicking a non-existent speck from a gloved hand. “But I see your caution. Still, many of the students have paid great sums for tuition...”
“You are receiving a scholarship that your family pays for,” he said with a small shake of his head. After a moment, he sighed before producing several neat bundles of papers. “Thus, these self-study packets. Essays, treatises, problem sets—sufficient to occupy even your restless mind for a month.” A faint smile curved his lips. “I trust postal submission will not inconvenience you?”
“Not in the slightest,” Seraphina said with false sweetness.
Hegandia’s gaze drifted again. “Miss Templeton sent her regards, Master Frest,” he added. “And I’m afraid your young Mr. Drevan had a most unfortunate accident falling down some stairs of all things. The healers say his convalescence will be lengthy and that his hands may never be the same again. A truly...”
Frest nodded somberly but said nothing. Seraphina, sensing that meandering was imminent, pressed on. “You were saying, Principal…?”
“Ah, yes. Forgive me. We shall recall the students and the rest of the staff once the City Guard and the Crown pronounce the skies.” He sighed, pushing a parchment aside. “A month, perhaps two.”
“But hasn’t the threat been neutralized?” Seraphina tilted her head. “Rumor credits a most astonishing hero with putting down the most fearsome creature.”
“Rumor,” Hegandia said dryly with a shrug, “often grows taller than fact. We do not know if the creature is truly dead. Dragons are capricious; they may return on a whim. Better to follow patience than to meet regret along the road.”
Annoyance pricked her pride—her personal heroics and sacrifice dismissed as tall tales with but a shrug. She drew a calming breath. An Academy on hiatus, an impromptu holiday in all but name, she realized, afforded room to maneuver and secure her position at home. She needed to make the most of this opportunity.
“Quite the shame,” she murmured, flashing flawless teeth. “But I will of course defer to your greater wisdom on this matter.”
She accepted the assignment packets, offered a curtsy so crisp it might slice air, and strode out, already calculating how best to exploit this windfall.
***
The bright noon sun slanted over stone walkways as Seraphina crossed the quadrangle, Sir Frest falling three paces behind. Only the sigh of distant fountains accompanied their footfalls. Near the dormitory wing, a single splash of color caught her eye: white cloth flapping on a clothesline, tended by a slim figure in a maid’s uniform with round spectacles. Miriam Bottlesworth, her maid, was wrestling a bedsheet that had entangled itself like a rebellious flag.
Though she would never admit it, the sight of her made Seraphina feel like she had finally come home.
At the clatter of approaching boots, Miriam spun, sheet forgotten. Recognition sparked; she darted forward, skirts swishing, then halted abruptly so as not to violate decorum. “Lady Seraphina! You are safe!”
Seraphina arched a brow. “Was there ever genuine doubt, Milly? Perhaps you feared I’d been devoured and replaced by an impostor? Perhaps a victim of another assassination attempt?”
“Oh, n-never, milady!” Miriam stammered, spectacles askew. “I mean, one heard tales…”
Seraphina’s lips curved into a feline smile. “Relax. I tease. Though I command you henceforth to distrust such rumors—unless I spread them myself, of course. Now, where are my Knights? Eloise and Desdemona?”
Miriam clasped her hands. “The Lady de Laney and Lady de Savant left for their family lands when the evacuation order came. Sir Gravens insisted on escorting them, seeing that you and Sir Frest were away.”
Seraphina tapped an impatient boot on a flagstone. “He chose an inopportune time to display initiative. Sir Frest, what say you?”
“The lad’s decision aligns with the chivalric code,” the Knight said evenly.
“Annoyingly so.” Seraphina exhaled through her nose. “Very well. Perhaps Eloise’s mother will ply her with proper cuisine for once, and she can put some meat on those bones.”
She pondered a beat, then issued brisk commands. “Frest, ready my carriage—our entire retinue returns to the Sariens Duchy within the hour. Miriam, you will have the honor of doing my assignments. I shall, of course, inspect them later.”
Frest snapped a salute and strode off to do his lady’s bidding. Miriam’s eyes widened behind her lenses, but she nodded, gathering her courage.
Turning her attention back to Miriam, she asked, “How fares business?”
Miriam produced a small ledger from an apron pocket—ever prepared—and flipped to a bookmarked page. “The kingdom’s unrest has suppressed demand for luxury goods like our candies, but we mitigated losses by broadening our holdings. We acquired leases on two river-adjacent farms and an oat-processing mill at half valuation.”
Seraphina’s brows rose. “Diversification, is it? And under whose suggestion?”
“Your own, milady.” Miriam brightened. “You called it ‘Bert’s integration.’”
A soft laugh escaped Seraphina. “Vertical integration, Milly. It is when a company takes ownership of suppliers or distributors to gain greater control of its supply chain. Controlling such things insulates us from market shocks. Continue.”
Encouraged, Miriam flipped another page. “Per your last missive, I discreetly initiated the purchase of the Calabrian bogs. Using twelve shell companies ensures that the local lord will not recognize the full scale.”
Seraphina’s smile turned razor-thin. “Adequate work. I commend you, for the most part, at least. Make a note of this, if the local lord does find out and proves fractious, we might need to remove and deal with a more pliable member of his family.”
To this order, her maid just nodded, writing it down in her notes.
She had learned that praise, like the finest things in life, must be rationed; too much bred complacency, and complacency birthed disaster. And, the girl had long ago learned to temper praise with criticism, and vice versa. It would do no good for those beneath her to have too many ideas.
The noblewoman’s gaze sharpened. “You remained at the Academy instead of managing these things from a ‘safer’ locale. Why?”
Color rose in the maid’s cheeks. “Your mother, Lady Anaselena, requested that I stay here. She believed you would return soon and preferred familiar eyes to greet you.”
Seraphina’s green eyes narrowed. So it wasn’t blind loyalty after all. She mentally deducted several points from Miriam’s performance evaluation. “And Mother herself?”
“Returned to Sariens Duchy, milady. She mentioned not wanting to miss her wedding anniversary celebrations.”
Seraphina hummed, half exasperated. “The woman is insatiable… and at her age, too.” She folded her arms. “Very well. Pack essentials only. We depart within the hour.”
Miriam bit her lip. “Essentials meaning…?”
Seraphina rolled her eyes. “Only what I absolutely need. I shan’t require ball gowns, for instance. You can purchase anything else I might require on the way. Now hurry—time is wasting!”
“Immediately, milady!” Miriam squeaked, scurrying off.
Honestly, it is so difficult to get good help these days.