Chapter 198 The Gifts of Avalon
Chapter 198 The Gifts of Avalon
The morning in the manor
Morning sunlight spilled through the tall windows of Lady Seraphine’s new solar, washing the limestone walls in warm gold. She had quickly decided it was her favorite room in the manor. The builders had positioned the windows to overlook both the gardens and the distant Hollow, allowing the gentle breeze to carry the scents of flowers, fresh-cut grass, and the faint hint of wood smoke drifting up from the valley below.
In front of her lay a breakfast tray on which she had barely eaten a bite. A round loaf of crusty bread, soft, fruity jam, mellow cheese, and hot tea all patiently waited for the far more uncommon luxury of… rest.
She breathed in the day's peacefulness.
At least one burden had finally been lifted.
The last invitations for the Matrons’ Council had left the manor the previous evening. Seraphine had spent weeks calculating travel times, river conditions, road delays, and the pace of elderly carriages, trying to ensure every guest, whether from a neighboring duchy or the far reaches of the kingdom, had enough time to arrive without hardship.
That task, at least, was complete.
The replies had already begun arriving.
Lady Anastarra’s letter had been the first to make her smile. It contained almost no formalities, only one repeated question.
What is this “new style of painting” that was on the invitation letters?
The Dowager Lady Elena had been considerably less restrained.
Her mother-in-law had sent a letter every day.
Each contained more questions than the last.
Some asked about the manor.
Others about the Hollow.
Several somehow circled back to Caelen.
Seraphine smiled into her teacup.
Her mother-in-law had reached the entirely reasonable conclusion that Avalon was hiding something.
The uncomfortable truth was that she wasn’t entirely wrong.
Her mind returned to her breakfast.
Last week, the construction noise had finally faded. The endless stream of merchants, craftsmen, and laborers no longer marched through every hallway. Even the Matrons’ Council, whose arrival promised enough politics to exhaust an army, had not yet descended to disturb the quiet of the morning.
A polite knock interrupted her thoughts.
“Enter.”
The door opened just enough for one of the maids to curtsy.
“My lady, your son and daughter have come to see you.”
Seraphine blinked.
“Both of them?”
“Yes, my lady.”
That alone was suspicious.
She had noticed before breakfast that both children had disappeared from the manor before sunrise. The discovery had surprised her far more than she cared to admit.
Caelen often wandered off before anyone else woke. His mind seemed incapable of remaining idle for very long.
Lisette, however, possessed a remarkable talent for sleeping comfortably through nearly every sunrise the world had ever produced.
Although she would sleep in, she never missed getting her breakfast or even two.
More importantly, she never rose early enough to miss it willingly.
Something was clearly happening.
A smile tugged at the corner of Seraphine’s mouth.
“Send them in.”
The maid stepped aside.
Lisette entered first.
The young girl walked with unusual purpose, her bright eyes sparkling with the barely restrained excitement that always preceded one of the children's schemes. Held snugly in both of her hands was a small and delicately constructed wooden box. The gently polished sides seemed to reflect the light of the morning sun as though they glowed.
Caelen followed at a pace behind.
His own burden required considerably more effort.
He carried a much larger wooden chest, though even from across the room, Seraphine noticed its weight by the careful way he held it, as though every movement had been planned before he crossed the doorway.
Lady Ventresca entered behind them, wearing the unmistakable expression of a woman thoroughly enjoying herself while pretending complete innocence.
That expression alone confirmed Seraphine’s suspicions.
Whatever had happened, Lady Ventresca had encouraged it.
Seraphine slowly set down her teacup.
She examined the small wooden box in Lisette’s hands.
Then, at the larger chest carried by Caelen.
Finally, she looked at Lady Ventresca.
The older noblewoman offered only an entirely too pleasant smile.
Seraphine sighed with affectionate resignation.
“I have the distinct feeling,” she said, folding her hands together, “that I am about to become the first victim of whatever the three of you have been doing.”
Lisette immediately shook her head.
“No, Mother.”
Her grin grew impossibly wider.
“You get to be the first.”
Lisette stepped forward, carefully carrying a small polished wooden box in both hands. “Mother, we have brought you a gift,” she announced, her excitement barely contained. “And if you approve, it may become a gift for every noble lady who visits Avalon.”
Behind her, Caelen lowered the larger wooden chest beside the breakfast table.
A faint clink of glass sounded from within.
Seraphine noticed it immediately.
So did Lady Ventresca.
Lisette presented the small box with all the dignity she could manage, though the smile threatening to escape her face spoiled the effect entirely.
“For you.”
Seraphine accepted it with a smile before setting it gently upon the table. She glanced toward Lady Ventresca and immediately realized the older woman knew no more than she did. The curiosity in her eyes made that perfectly clear.
Interesting.
She opened the lid.
Nestled inside rested a heavy glass bottle no larger than her palm. It held a clear liquid beneath an equally simple glass stopper.
Seraphine looked up at Caelen with a questioning eyebrow.
He simply smiled.
Before she could ask what she was holding, Lisette nearly bounced in place.
“Open it, Mother! Hurry!”
Amused, Seraphine lifted the bottle and eased out the stopper.
Lavender.
The fragrance spread through the room almost instantly, rich without becoming overwhelming. It carried her back decades to the gardens of her childhood, where warm summer breezes drifted across endless rows of purple flowers outside her estate.
For a heartbeat, she simply breathed.
Caelen watched her expression.
“You mentioned missing lavender because it doesn’t grow well this far south,” he said quietly. “So we made perfume.”
Lady Ventresca frowned. ”What exactly is perfume?"
“It is scented water,” Lisette explained eagerly. “You place a little on your wrists or your neck, and you carry the fragrance with you all day.”
Caelen nodded thoughtfully.
“I still think putting flower water on your neck is rather strange.” Lisette sighed dramatically. “I am not sure all women would love it. I still believe scented soap makes much more sense.”
Lady Ventresca barely heard the exchange.
Her attention never left the tiny bottle.
A single scent, captured and preserved.
Strong enough to carry throughout an entire day. No crushed petals woven into hair.
No fading sachets hidden in sleeves. Just one drop from a small bottle.
Even if it were only a limited number of fragrances, hundreds of noble customers would desire it.
She felt an involuntary smile spread across her face. The boy had done it again.
Every time Caelen tried solving some insignificant inconvenience, he somehow created another luxury that nobles would compete to own, and merchants would pay fortunes to acquire.
Seraphine carefully replaced the stopper before returning the bottle to its box with surprising tenderness.
Only then did she raise her eyes to her son. “You remembered.”
Caelen looked genuinely confused.
Weeks earlier, during an ordinary evening with her children, she had casually remarked that she missed the scent of northern lavender drifting through open windows during summer.
It had been nothing more than an idle observation.
She had almost forgotten saying it.
Somewhere amid impossible construction projects, magical discoveries, and endless responsibilities, her son had quietly remembered one passing comment from his mother.
Then he had found a way to bring that memory home. The perfume suddenly mattered very little. The thought behind it meant everything.
The quiet of the solar quickly gave way to lively conversation as Caelen opened the larger chest and began setting bottle after bottle across the table.
Each held a different fragrance.
“Lavender. Rose. Citrus. Cedar. Pine. Jasmine.”
He continued without pause.
“Wintergreen. Cinnamon. Apple blossom. Rosewood. Honey blossom. Fresh mint.”
Every bottle carried its own distinct aroma, and each time another stopper came free, the room seemed to change with it.
Lady Ventresca stopped asking questions and simply inhaled each new scent, while Seraphine watched the growing collection with widening eyes.
Lisette proudly announced the names before her brother could, smiling as though she had helped create every one of them.
By the time the last bottle had been opened, the solar smelled like a garden, an orchard, and a summer forest had somehow decided to share the same morning.
Seraphine slowly looked across the neatly arranged collection before lifting her gaze to her son.
“You truly intended to make one for every lady, didn’t you?”
Caelen nodded as though it were the most ordinary idea in the world. Soon, the conversation continued.
…
Litus Solis
Following the noonday meal, the family traveled by carriage to Litus Solis, with Caelen running easily alongside the horses. After they arrived and their mother went to see the Lord of the city, he quietly motioned for Lisette to leave the others and follow him.
She did so without hesitation.
Two Silver Hollow Guards slipped in behind them as they wound through narrow back streets that descended from the Governor’s Quarter toward the shipyards.
Lisette glanced sideways at her brother. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” He replied
“I dislike that answer.” Quiped the young girl, but her eyes burned with curiosity.
She sighed but followed him anyway.
The twisting streets opened onto a broad stone terrace overlooking the harbor. Caelen stopped at the railing and pointed toward the docks below.
Slipping into the water, bobbing at the dock, was a brand new river barge that far surpassed the larger ship that had brought them down south. New paint was gleaming in the afternoon sunlight; the carved railings and shiny wood declared that the vessel was Avalon's.
Then Lisette saw the name.
“Storm Princess.”
Her face lit with delight. “ That is mine!”
“It sails before sunset,” Caelen explained. “It has to reach the Lake of Lanterns to collect our grandmother, so you can’t visit it today. Besides, I have something even better to show you.”
Reluctantly, Lisette tore her eyes from the graceful vessel. As they climbed back toward the main thoroughfare, she smiled to herself and softly repeated the name.
“Storm Princess.”
The words were still lingering in her thoughts when they reached the great avenue leading to the Governor’s Quarter.
She stopped.
Bella appeared beside her, equally stunned by the enormous structure dominating the street ahead. Craftsmen hurried through the final preparations while scaffolding disappeared piece by piece.
Caelen smiled at their expressions.
“Soon,” he said quietly. “We’ll open it during the Matrons’ Council.”
His eyes never left the thing.
“Then everyone will see it and its glory,” Caelen stated.
And to the soft bell-like sound, he responded, “Yes, even those in the hollow!”
…
Caelen’s Cave
Three adjoining chambers of Caelen’s newly expanded underground complex had transformed into a maze of workshops. Stone tables disappeared beneath bottles of fragrant oils, bowls of powdered minerals, sacks of herbs, flower petals, wax, glassware, and dozens of curious liquids awaiting another experiment. Mages, craftsmen, and apprentices moved constantly between the rooms, each pursuing a different idea while Caelen somehow kept track of them all.
Near one wall, Lisette had gathered two dwarven craftsmen around a curious wooden frame fitted with a hand crank and a suspended bucket. One dwarf patiently explained how the mechanism could churn, lift, or mix almost anything placed inside, while Lisette insisted that if she kept the bucket cold enough with ice, they could freeze sweet cream into something wonderful. The dwarves exchanged doubtful looks before reluctantly agreeing that freezing food was, apparently, a perfectly reasonable way to spend an afternoon.
Caelen’s attention remained fixed on another project.
Spread across the largest worktable sat dozens of bowls, bottles, cups, and jars, each marked with charcoal before firing. Some remained the familiar gray of common pottery, while others possessed a warm ivory color that immediately drew the eye.
And standing beside him was the young potter, Rowan. He had just discovered the Gift – the knack to be able to ‘see’ the weaknesses in the clay, before even he’d put hands to the wheel. Bubble, too dry a section, thin bit, all showed themselves to him – and so came forth clay pots, much thinner and stronger than any trained potter dreamed were possible.
“We finished the latest bone ash mixtures,” Rowan said as he arranged several bowls in order. “Too little changes almost nothing. Too much weakens the clay. Somewhere in the middle...” He rested his hand on the brightest bowl. “...everything changes.”
Caelen lifted the vessel beneath one of the oil lamps, studying the creamy white surface before comparing it with an ordinary gray bowl.
“It’s brighter,” he observed.
“And considerably lighter,” Rowan replied.
Pottery Master Kelbert accepted the bowl, weighing it carefully before tapping the rim with a fingernail.
A clear, bell-like note echoed through all three chambers.
He frowned. “It should not survive at this thickness.”
His fingers traced the polished surface as the gentle light drifted across it. “It almost resembles pearl.”
The room fell silent.
Every potter immediately lifted another finished piece toward the lamps, watching the soft sheen appear as the smooth white ceramic reflected the light.
Caelen smiled.
“I think we accidentally made something beautiful.”
…
Evening at the manor
That evening, after returning to the manor, the family gathered in the dining hall for a private supper. Lady Seraphine sat beside Lady Ventresca and Lady Alessa, while Caelen and Lisette occupied the opposite side of the table. Nearby sat Lysa Fen, Seraine, Hollis Bar, and the cleric Edrin Kalt, each having spent much of the day exploring the Hollow’s workshops.
Before the first course arrived, servants wheeled in a broad cart covered with polished wooden trays.
Lady Ventresca smiled. “So this is why our servants vanished today.”
Caelen uncovered the display piece by piece.
Glass perfume bottles.
Scented soaps.
Creams.
Fine powders.
Presentation boxes.
Finally, he revealed rows of creamy white ceramic bottles, bowls, and cosmetic jars. Their softly polished surfaces reflected the candlelight with the gentle glow of pearls.
Lysa Fen immediately opened one perfume while Seraine examined a jar of cream. Soon, all the women were reaching for and opening items. Lisette ignored the fragrances altogether, turning one of the ceramic bowls slowly beneath the lamps.
Caelen explained each item with complete seriousness.
“The soaps hold their fragrance longer than fresh flowers. The creams combine oils, beeswax, herbs, and mineral water from the hot springs. Some soften skin, others reduce dryness, and a few lessen the lines that appear with age. The powders brighten the complexion, while the ceramic protects the contents and keeps them cooler.”
Lady Seraphine smiled as she held one of the small jars.
“I would have treasured something like this as a young bride.” She looked around the table. “So would every noblewoman I have ever known.”
Caelen nodded.
“I was not that presumptuous. It was just a simple idea to keep natural beauty.”
He reached beneath the table and lifted a polished wooden dressing box.
“Each guest will choose her own fragrance when she arrives. We’ll prepare her perfume before she leaves.”
He opened the box.
Inside rested fitted compartments for perfume, soaps, creams, powders, brushes, and small mirrors.
“Each lady will receive one of these dressing boxes.”
Lady Ventresca leaned forward. “They’re beautiful.”
“The containers fit safely inside for travel,” Caelen continued. “Every guest will receive her own set.”
Lady Alessa stopped admiring the craftsmanship and immediately asked, “Can we make enough?”
“I believe so.”
“And the ceramic?”
“If Rowan continues improving the process.”
Lady Alessa slowly nodded.
“Good.”
Caelen continued.
“If we have enough time, I’d also like each guest to receive a four-person tea service made from the new white ceramic.”
Even Hollis Bar looked up.
“A tea service?”
Caelen nodded.
“It depends on production. There’s someone in the Hollow whose Gift should allow us to finish them before the council ends.”
Lady Alessa smiled.
“People will commission entire dining sets.”
Lady Ventresca barely heard her.
She was already imagining noble ladies opening the boxes in their guest chambers.
“They’ll return home speaking about Avalon for years.”
Her smile widened.
“They won’t remember the speeches.”
She picked up one of the perfume bottles.
“They’ll remember how we made them feel.”
Lady Seraphine looked proudly toward her son.
“That was your intention, wasn’t it?”
Caelen smiled.
“I wanted them to feel welcomed in our home, mother!”
Lady Ventresca laughed softly. “You continue to mistake exceptional hospitality for ordinary courtesy.”
Before he could answer, another cart entered the room.
Small golden pastries appeared first, some filled with sweet cream and preserves, while others held seasoned meats, mushrooms, herbs, and soft cheeses. Layered cream cakes followed by bowls of roasted and candied nuts, delicate custards, fruit preserves, and crystal dishes piled high with candied citrus.
Lisette reached for the candied citrus first.
Everyone else quickly followed.
The bright sweetness lingered pleasantly, leaving smiles around the table.
Lysa Fen quietly reached for another piece.
Even Hollis Bar accepted a second without comment.
Caelen waited until everyone had sampled several dishes.
“I’d like to introduce something else during the Matrons’ Council.”
Lady Ventresca and Lady Seraphine looked up immediately and said together. “What?”
“Afternoon tea.”
Blank expressions greeted him.
“Not a simple tea but a social event at early or mid-afternoon,” Caelen explained. “A gathering held in the gardens or on the terraces. Small, sweet, and savory foods would be served instead of a large meal. Guests could walk through the gardens, enjoy the views, and spend several hours talking without the formality of a banquet.”
He gestured toward the pastries.
“Small portions. Many choices.”
Lady Ventresca slowly smiled. “So the food encourages conversation rather than ending it.”
“Exactly.” The young man answered.
Lady Seraphine immediately understood. “The ladies won’t remain seated in one place. They’ll mingle. They’ll form friendships. They’ll remember the afternoon instead of the menu.
Lady Ventresca leaned back, delighted. “My dear boy...” She laughed. “You aren’t planning meals. You’re designing memories.”
Lady Alessa had grown unusually quiet, her merchant mind contemplating these new products.
She was no longer studying the perfumes or the pastries.
She was studying Caelen.
“How long have you been planning this?” She asked in frustration.
He looked genuinely confused.
“Planning what?”
She gestured toward the tables. “We have discussed many times how to develop the south, but you never raised these ideas.”
“The Hollow already has flower gardens, soap makers, potters, glassworkers, and now these new ceramics. None of this appeared overnight. You have developed them in private and not shared your plans. “
Caelen considered her question before answering.
“I was only solving the next problem.”
Lady Alessa smiled faintly.
“I no longer believe that.”
She lifted one of the perfume bottles and turned it thoughtfully in the candlelight.
“Can all of this be taught outside the Hollow?”
“I believe it can.”
“The pottery?”
“Yes.”
“The perfumes and soaps?”
“Once the methods are understood.”
She nodded slowly before setting the bottle back onto the table.
“Then these are not simply gifts.”
Everyone waited.
“They’re beginnings.”
The room grew noticeably quieter.
Lady Ventresca looked from the perfume to the pastries and finally back to Caelen.
“I’ve begun wondering whether you ever create anything for only one purpose.”
Caelen smiled.
“I usually begin with one.”
Lady Seraphine laughed softly. “He begins with one purpose.”
She looked at her son with unmistakable affection.
“He simply neglects to mention all the others until they have already become possible. But understand what he makes belongs to him.”
For just an instant, something unreadable crossed Caelen’s face.
Lady Alessa noticed.
There were more plans.
He simply was not ready to speak of them yet.
Lady Seraphine reached across the table and rested her hand over his.
“My dear, the finest gifts are the ones that continue giving long after they’re received.”
Lady Ventresca nodded.
“And Avalon is about to give the entire kingdom something they’ll never forget.”
Lady Ventresca rested her chin upon one hand, her expression thoughtful.
“The gifts are wonderful,” she said, “but what about distractions? Noble ladies cannot spend every waking hour discussing politics, even if they insist they enjoy doing exactly that.”
Several smiles appeared around the table.
Caelen nodded.
“I’ve been thinking about that as well.”
Lady Seraphine looked at him over the rim of her teacup.
“I suspected you had.”
“I believe we should host at least one formal ball.”
Lady Ventresca immediately approved.
“Certainly.”
“And dancing.”
“Naturally.”
Caelen continued as though he had expected no other answer.
“Lisette’s birthday falls during the council. I have something special planned for that evening.”
Lisette’s eyes widened.
“You do?”
“I do.”
“What is it?”
“You’ll find out when everyone else does.”
She folded her arms dramatically.
“I dislike surprises.”
Lady Ventresca laughed.
“No, dear. You dislike waiting.”
The room joined her laughter.
Caelen waited for the amusement to settle before continuing.
“I’d also like to bring everyone to Litus Solis for the opening of the aqueduct.”
Lady Seraphine slowly nodded.
“That would be memorable.”
“If the ladies are interested, we can organize carriage tours through the Hollow so they can see the workshops, new homes, and craftsmen at work.”
Lady Alessa immediately leaned forward.
“Not just the Hollow.”
Everyone looked toward her.
“We’ll include the communal farms. I want them to see the irrigation, the crop rotations, and the granaries. Then we’ll stop at the baths before returning through the gardens.”
She smiled as the plan grew in her mind.
“We should host at least two garden parties.”
Lady Ventresca nodded enthusiastically.
“One formal.”
“And one relaxed,” Lady Alessa agreed. “Let the younger ladies wander, talk, paint, and enjoy themselves.”
Caelen listened quietly before adding one final thought.
“If everything comes together in time...”
The room waited.
“I’d like to hold a nighttime water fountain celebration.”
Silence settled over the table.
Lady Seraphine blinked.
“A... what?”
Caelen smiled slightly.
“I’m not ready to explain it yet.”
Lady Ventresca looked at Lady Alessa.
Lady Alessa looked back at her.
Neither had the faintest idea what he meant.
Lisette grinned.
“I don’t know what it is either.”
She looked proudly at the others.
“But I already know it’s going to be amazing.”
Lady Seraphine sighed with affectionate resignation.
“I suppose I’ve reached the point where that no longer surprises me.”
Around the table, everyone quietly realized the same thing.
Whenever Caelen refused to explain an idea, it usually meant he was about to reveal something no one had ever seen before.
Before the conversation could drift to another subject, Caelen cleared his throat.
“There is one more matter.”
The room settled almost immediately.
He looked toward his mother.
“Lady Avalon, Lisette, and I would like your permission.”
Lisette nearly sprang from her chair.
“Yes, Mother. Please say yes.”
Her enthusiasm alone caused Lady Seraphine’s heart to sink.
Whenever both children appeared this eager, the request rarely remained simple.
“What is it?” she asked carefully.
Caelen folded his hands before answering.
“I believe enough rumors have already spread about Lisette’s affinity that continuing to pretend otherwise gains us very little.”
Lady Seraphine’s expression did not change.
He continued.
“I think we should quietly acknowledge it.”
Lisette nodded so vigorously that several loose strands of hair escaped their ribbon.
“But only through the kitchens,” Caelen added. “I’d like to introduce a new method of preparing food, along with a specialty that can only be made while Lisette is here.”
The room grew quiet.
Lady Seraphine no longer heard her son as his mother.
She heard him as the Lady of Avalon.
For more than a year, they had carefully guarded Lisette’s awakening. They had never announced it, yet they had never truly hidden it either. Servants had seen impossible frost appear upon bowls, cups, and water pails. Rumors had quietly traveled beyond the manor walls, growing larger with every retelling.
Denying them now would convince no one.
Confirming them openly would reveal far more than necessary.
Her son was offering a third path.
Neither confirmation nor denial.
Only a demonstration attached to something entirely ordinary.
Food.
Hospitality.
A delight prepared for honored guests.
Those who understood affinities would reach their own conclusions.
Those who did not would simply remember the remarkable dessert served at Avalon.
Lady Ventresca was already smiling.
“I rather like that.”
Everyone turned toward her.
“A hostess never explains every mystery in her home. She allows her guests to wonder just enough that they cannot stop talking about it afterward.”
Lady Alessa nodded thoughtfully.
“And politically?”
Seraphine answered before anyone else could.
“It reveals nothing we have not already allowed people to suspect.”
She looked directly at Caelen.
“It merely gives them something more pleasant to discuss.”
Her son inclined his head.
“Exactly.”
Only then did Seraphine allow herself a small smile.
“What, precisely, do you intend to make?”
Lisette’s grin became almost mischievous. “The best dessert in the world.”
Caelen sighed. “I was going to say iced cream.”
Lisette waved a dismissive hand. “I already said that!”
…
On the river heading south near HollowMarch
Lady Elena of Avalon sat comfortably in the saloon of the river barge across from Lady Anastara. Around them, maids and maidens waited with practiced silence, ready to refill a cup or answer the slightest request. Between the two noblewomen rested a simple spread of bread, fruit, cheese, and warmed wine that took the edge off the cool morning air.
Elena turned the invitation over in her hands for perhaps the tenth time. The heavy parchment was beautiful enough, yet it was the watercolor that kept drawing her eye. It depicted a graceful four-story tower unlike anything she had ever seen. Great stone arches lifted each floor into the air, giving the structure an elegance that made it appear almost weightless. It was not merely a building. It had been designed to be admired.
Across from her, Lady Anastara studied her own invitation with no less intensity. Instead of a tower, hers displayed an immense row of tall arches stretching from distant mountains to a shining city beside the sea. Endless rows of towering arches carried water across valleys in a feat of engineering that seemed almost impossible.
She glanced toward Elena and smiled knowingly.
“I believe Seraphine did this intentionally.”
Elena raised an eyebrow.
“How so?”
Anastara held up her invitation with exaggerated offense.
“She let Caelen redesign my home first, and now she sends you the beautiful tower while I receive something called an aqueduct.”
She sighed dramatically.
“I am almost certain this is her way of reminding me that she won.”
Elena laughed softly.
“Knowing Seraphine, I would not dismiss the possibility.”
Lady Elena finally lowered the invitation and looked across the table.
“So tell me,” she asked, “who has been tutoring young Caelen? And for how many years have these plans been underway?”
She tapped the watercolor with a finger.
“This tower alone represents years of design. That impossible structure on your invitation is even more so.”
Lady Anastara smiled faintly.
“There have been no new tutors.”
Elena frowned.
“None?”
“None, except Master Havlor, who came only after the Eternal Punishment struck Caelen.”
The color drained from Elena’s face.
“The boy truly endured that?”
“He did.”
Anastara’s voice softened.
“Havlor believes he survived at a terrible cost. Do not be surprised if you find he remembers little of his childhood. Some memories were simply... lost.”
Elena looked back at the painting.
“The poor child.”
She remained silent for several moments before looking up again.
“That still explains nothing.”
She spread both invitations across the table.
“These ideas cannot have appeared overnight. Buildings like these require decades of thought. New industries, new trade routes, new methods of construction...” She shook her head. “He was bedridden barely eighteen months ago. Explain to me how a sick child accomplished all of this.”
Anastara gave a slow, helpless shrug.
“My lady... I cannot.”
“I have watched him since his recovery, and I still cannot explain it.”
“He simply... sees things.”
“He gathers the right people.”
“He asks impossible questions.”
“And somehow everyone around him accomplishes what they once believed impossible.”
She looked out across the river as farms drifted past.
“In scarcely more than a year, he has reshaped the South. Avalon no longer measures its future in harvests. It measures it in generations.”
Her smile widened.
“The revenues have already begun to change.”
“The trade routes are changing.”
“The noble houses are changing.”
She paused before adding quietly,
“And one day he confidently informed me that Avalon would surpass even the Merchant States in wealth.”
Lady Elena laughed.
It was the warm, indulgent laugh of a grandmother hearing another impossible dream from an ambitious boy.
Then the laughter faded.
Lady Anastara had not smiled.
She had not laughed.
She had not even looked amused.
Instead, she simply watched Elena with complete certainty.
The silence settled heavily between them.
Elena slowly leaned forward.
For the first time since boarding the barge, uncertainty entered her expression.
“You believe him.”
“I do.”
Elena studied the woman for another long moment before looking once more at the impossible watercolor resting in her hands.
When she finally spoke, her voice carried none of its earlier amusement.
“Tell me everything...”
She looked toward the southern horizon where Avalon waited beyond another bend in the river.
“...about my grandson.”
The barge continued downstream, its hull slipping quietly through the gentle current as the towers of Avalon drew ever closer.