At the Blue Jade Pavilion at the end of the noble district, Eleanor Calvin leaned back on the soft chair behind the sandalwood screen, gently swirling the wine glass in her hand.
The amber Imperial pear wine reflected shimmering waves in the crystal glass, illuminating indifferent brows and eyes.
She was listening to someone quietly discuss the Northern Territory.
"Is it true that the young Lord from the Calvin Clan has gone to the Burial Gorge?"
"Did he personally lead the troops, or did he send the Knight Order? Can he really turn the tide in such a battle?"
"Ha, who knows? News from the Northern Territory always arrives as slow and unreliable as a frozen river."
She didn't speak, only slightly curled her lips to reveal a faint, elusive smile.
That was her nephew, the Duke's least noticed eighth son, exiled to the Northern Territory, where he forcibly carved out a piece of land, and now seemingly scored another great achievement.
