In the capital's center district lies the expansive campus of the Royal Academy. In one of its many green areas, created for student relaxation and ambiance, many students lounged about with their friends or partners on picnic blankets.
A cool breeze flowed through the campus, cast by some of the mages who worked as professors or faculty here; they were also the ones maintaining this greenery during the drought.
On one of these picnic blankets sat a young man in a loose white uniform shirt with two of the upper buttons undone and a loosened red tie, the color of the tie represented being a third-year at the academy. He had black hair and bright amber eyes like his mother.
He wore black pants that fitted his long legs perfectly. His body was lean and not particularly muscular, just healthy and light. His face was sharp and handsome, a mix between a scholar and a soldier, a bona fide princely-looking person on this campus.
His black and gold wizard robe lay at his feet while he rested against a tree, feeling the breeze and smelling the scent of greenery.
He was focused on a thick, hardbound book, his attention entirely absorbed by the complex magic theorems contained within. This was Kailus Blacksun, Bjorn's second son, the child of his and his dear wife Clara.
A voice, bright and slightly amused, broke through the boy's concentration.
"Still reading that ancient relic, Kailus? You're meant to be relaxing, not absorbing the entire history book on Dimensional Magic."
Kailus looked up, a hint of annoyance flickering in his amber eyes before he quickly smiled after realising who it was. Standing over him was Evangeline, his girlfriend and a third-year student like himself.
She was a beauty of refined grace, her long, coiled silver hair reflecting the sunlight, her eyes a startling violet. She wore a similar, though perfectly neat, uniform, her red tie tied in a flawless windsor knot. She was carrying a picnic basket that contained iced tea and small, jewel-like pastries.
"Evangeline," Kailus greeted cheerfully, his tone excited and full of love. He set his book down. "I find the study of planar mechanics quite relaxing, thank you. And this is not a relic. It is the only foundational book on the subject."
Evangeline sat down, crossing her legs neatly on the edge of his picnic blanket, forcing his immediate attention. She quietly set the tea down and snuggled beside Kailus.
"Yes, well, foundational texts won't help you with the current political climate," she said, pouring a glass of tea for herself. "You seem unconcerned by the fact that the entire Kingdom is slowly drying up, Kailus. Most of the professors are panicking about maintaining the academy's and kingdom's reserves."
Kailus took the glass of iced tea offered by the maid with a nod of thanks and took a slow sip. "My family is in Mivvy and they are farmers. The drought is a problem, but it's not an unsolvable one."
Evangeline laughed, a light, melodious sound. "Oh, Kailus, your brother is an eccentric one. Do you think his little farm will truly survive this? I heard from my father that the trade houses are already price gouging for basic grains."
Kailus's expression shifted, becoming as sharp as his father's when working on wood. "My brother's farm, Eva, is not a 'little farm'. It is quite the magical farm. And I assure you, what he produces is not subject to the whims of the trade houses."
"Oh? A bold claim." Evangeline leaned in, her violet eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Then tell me, what does a farm boy's son know about the kingdom's recent food crisis? My father is furious over the price of high-quality goods right now."
Kailus gave her a subtle, knowing smile. "I know only what I read in the market reports, Eva. But given the royal family's reach and centuries of wealth, they can surely help the kingdom pull through."
Evangeline's composure wavered for the briefest moment, a flash of genuine surprise replacing her usual poise.
"You are very well informed for a third-year student, Kailus," she remarked, her voice suddenly cool.
"I was trained by my mother and my father," Kailus replied, finishing his tea. "I know how to read the signatures of money and influence. It is a necessary skill, especially when one is trying to ensure one's family remains safe and wealthy."
Kailus reached out a hand, tracing the smooth, cool line of Evangeline's jaw. His amber eyes, usually so sharp with academic focus, softened with a depth of affection that made her breath catch.
"And I assure you, my focus on the world's problems is secondary only to ensuring my world…" he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, intimate register, "remains beautiful and entirely within my reach."
He gently tucked a loose strand of her silver hair behind her ear, letting his fingers linger against the delicate skin of her neck.
Evangeline leaned into his touch, the political drama of the capital and her father's anxieties momentarily dissolving. She placed her hand over his, pressing it more firmly against her cheek.
"You speak in theorems and metaphors, Kailus," she whispered, her violet eyes gazing up at him. "Translate that for me, please."
He didn't need to speak. He simply leaned down, his kiss soft and deliberate, a quiet promise in the afternoon sun. It was a scholar's kiss. Unhurried, thorough, and entirely persuasive.
When he pulled back, a faint flush had spread across Evangeline's cheeks, and her composure was utterly gone.
"Was that a sufficient translation, my dear?" he asked, his lips curving into that familiar, charming smile that always made her heart flutter.
"The execution was flawless," she admitted, her voice slightly breathless. She picked upa pastry from her basket and offered it to him. "A reward for exceptional performance."
Kailus accepted the small, jewel-like cake, his gaze never leaving hers, and bit into it with a pleased hum. "I find I am always motivated by a clear objective and the promise of a sweet conclusion."
Evangeline sighed contentedly, resting her head against his shoulder. "Your metaphors are becoming less obscure. I appreciate that. But be honest, Kailus. Do you truly spend all your time thinking about planar mechanics?"
He tilted his head back, looking up at the leaves swaying gently above them. "My father says that every man must find his unique strength. Mine is in understanding the structure of things. Magic, money, or the heart of a beautiful woman."
He turned his head and gave her a second, deeper kiss, a lingering connection that spoke volumes of his affection. Evangeline tightened her arm around his waist, wishing the moment could stretch on forever, suspended in the gentle magic of the afternoon.
Dong. Dong. Dong.
The deep, mournful toll of the Academy's great clock tower began to sound, resonating across the campus. It was the first warning for the three o'clock lectures.
Kailus pulled back slowly, the romantic warmth draining from his expression, replaced by the rigid discipline of a dedicated student. He glanced toward the clock tower visible through the trees, a look of regret settling over his handsome features.
"Damn it," he muttered, running a frustrated hand through his black hair. "I have Ethics with Professor Eldrin. He is entirely unforgiving of tardiness, especially after the latest debate over the morality of soul-binding magic."
Evangeline took his hand, squeezing it gently. "Go. You can't afford to miss Eldrin's lectures, no matter how much I wish you could stay."
Kailus rose swiftly, grabbing his black and gold robe. He leaned down and gave her a quick, soft peck on the forehead. "I'll see you for dinner, Eva. Don't let my absence ruin your afternoon."
He didn't wait for her reply, the robes flying out behind him as he hurried toward the main lecture hall. Evangeline watched him go, a wistful, loving smile on her face. Even his departure was executed with the same flawless and precise focus he brought to his studies.
Evangeline smoothed down the picnic blanket, pulling out a small, tiered box containing more jewel-like pastries. She poured two fresh glasses of iced tea, the crystal catching the sunlight. She was just settling into the quiet of the afternoon when a new presence arrived.
A young woman, short but with ample curves, approached the blanket. She wore a perfect maid's uniform, a black dress, white apron, and a crisp cap that couldn't quite contain her short, silver hair. Her blue eyes scanned the empty space next to Evangeline with a look of tension.
Before anyone else in the vicinity could hear, a subtle pressure settled over the air around the blanket, a faint mana signature indicating a temporary, localized sound barrier.
"Princess," the maid murmured, "I apologize for the intrusion, but your father requires your presence at the palace. It's critical."
Evangeline's composure, which had been flawless moments before, hardened slightly at the interruption. She glanced at the maid, Lana, with a look of displeasure.
"Lana, sit," Evangeline commanded quietly, gesturing toward the edge of the blanket. "The purpose of hiding my identity is so I could enjoy life as my subjects do. A nervous maid standing over a commoner student is outside of that intention."
Lana hesitated, the ingrained deference of her position warring with her Princess's direct order. The sheer difference in status was almost painful for her to breach.
"Your Highness, I couldn't possibly-"
"Sit, Lana," Evangeline repeated, her violet eyes flashing with aristocratic impatience. "I need to be seen relaxing. The entire point of my enrollment here is to live normally without raising suspicion. Now, take a glass of tea. Be a friend, not a maid, for five minutes."
Reluctantly, Lana dropped to the edge of the blanket, her back still stiff with protest. She quickly took a glass of tea. The sight of a maid in uniform on the Academy grounds wasn't unusual, as many noble students brought staff, or staff were themselves enrolled in domestic arts programs.
Most of these maids made friends with commoners, just as Evangeline was pretending to be one. This made the scene appear common.
"Now, tell me why my father wants me back," Evangeline instructed, picking up a pastry.
Lana's gaze darted around the peaceful green space, ensuring the sound barrier was holding before she spoke, her voice low and filled with urgency. "The drought, Your Highness. It is severely impacting the kingdom's essential resources, far worse than the public reports.
Your five older siblings are all currently outside the kingdom, negotiating emergency trade agreements and supply routes with our neighbors."
Evangeline paused with the pastry halfway to her lips, her violet eyes hardening with focus. "All of them? That is unprecedented. Father must be desperate."
"He is," Lana confirmed, her voice barely a whisper. "They are discussing resource allocation and the new, critical supply lines secured by the Military Intelligence Department. It is an extremely important council with the General and the Director, and the King needs all members, of age, of the Royal Family present for a decision of this magnitude."
Evangeline finally ate the pastry, chewing it slowly as she processed the information. "So, because my esteemed elder siblings are busy buying wheat, and my younger brother is still playing romance with that young girl, I, the most inconveniently located princess, must be dragged back to the palace to sit in a velvet chair and look pretty."
Lana flinched at the bluntness of the statement but nodded. "Precisely, Your Highness. The King and Queen require a visual representative of the younger Royal generation at the council. It is a matter of tradition and protocol, ensuring the noble houses cannot accuse the Crown of making decisions without full familyrepresentation."
Evangeline scoffed, the sound sharp and entirely un-princess-like. "Unnecessary royal etiquette and tradition. It is exhausting. Does anyone truly believe that my presence changes the outcome of General Stonehard's strategic briefing? No. It's theater for the benefit of the simpering court nobles."
She let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through her silver hair. "But I suppose I have no choice. Becoming Queen is a distant and unlikely prospect with five elder siblings in perfect health, and my younger brother, Prince Leo, is still too naive. I am the only viable piece for their political chessboard."
She drained her glass of tea, the relaxation of the afternoon officially shattered.
"Fine, Lana," Evangeline said, standing up and brushing the crumbs from her neat uniform. "The Academy can survive without me for an afternoon. Send word back to the stables. Have the Royal Escort prepared for immediate departure. I will not be late for my own political puppet show."
Lana visibly relaxed, the pressure of her mission lifted. "Right away, Your Highness. I will inform the escort team."
Evangeline walked away from the picnic blanket, her composure returning, her steps regaining the regal authority she usually concealed. The carefree student was gone, replaced by Princess Evangeline, now bound for the cold, demanding realities of the Imperial Palace.
…
The Grand Council Chamber was a vast, imposing space, a monument to centuries of wealth and power. Sunlight streamed through tall, arched windows, illuminating motes of dust dancing in the air and reflecting off the polished marble floor.
At the far end of the chamber, on a high, tiered dais, sat the Royal Family.
The King, Leopold Bluecrown VII, occupied the largest throne. He was a middle-aged man with a neat, stern beard, his blond hair touched with silver at the temples.
His eyes were a striking, commanding red, and a regal aura clung to him like a cloak, though the deep lines of worry etched around his eyes spoke of the drought's heavy toll. He wore rich, deep-blue velvet robes embroidered with silver thread.
Beside him sat the Queen, Sarah Notranis Bluecrown. She was beautiful and impeccably poised, her deep red hair a vivid contrast to her gown, and her orange eyes, sharp and intelligent like those of a fox, projected an image of unshakeable stability.
To the Queen's right, and slightly behind her, sat Princess Evangeline. She was dressed in an elegant gown of deep purple, but her face was obscured by a thin, dark silk veil, a preference she maintained in official court settings.
She looked composed, regal, and profoundly bored, exactly as she had predicted she would be. Beside her, two identical, empty chairs stood ready for her elder sisters.
To the King's left, four larger, more imposing chairs for the princes remained vacant, their absence a silent testament to the severity of the crisis that had sent them away on emergency missions.
Below the dais, on the main floor, the court nobles and high-ranking officials stood in two semi-circles. They were a glittering array of silks, gold braid, and polished steel. These show-offs were the kingdom's biggest cogs.
General Stonehard, stoic and immovable, stood nearest the dais, clad in his heavy, deep-red military armor. Beside him, Director Seraphina, sleek in her dark, tailored suit, held a rolled-up scroll of documents.
The General cleared his throat, his voice a low boom that filled the chamber.
"Your Majesties, my Lords and Ladies, we convene today to discuss the allocation of the Blacksun Procurement: the first secured supply of magically grown resources."
A murmur rippled through the noble ranks. Every eye was now fixed on the General.
"The confirmed assets are as follows," Seraphina began, unrolling the scroll. She spoke with a clear, professional tone that cut through the chamber's grand acoustics.
"We have secured ten tons of Imperial Wheat per month for twelve months, priced at forty percent above the Capital rate. More critically, we have thirty mature roots of specially grown ginseng, secured for a one-time astronomical, extortionate price."
Seraphina paused, allowing the figures to sink in. "The wheat volume is sufficient to feed the entire Royal Guard, the Royal Household, and select critical personnel for the duration of the agreement. The ginseng, being as potent as mandrake but without the dangers, is the more pressing matter of strategic allocation."
King Leopold spoke then, his voice strained but authoritative. "General Stonehard, present the options for the ginseng. The wheat must be immediately allocated to the Palace and the most vital military units. We cannot risk the morale of our protectors."
A few nobles exchanged anxious glances, realizing that the immediate distribution would bypass their houses entirely.
Stonehard nodded. "Your Majesty, as detailed in our urgent report, we have three immediate strategic options for the thirty roots of ginseng.
The first option is Direct Consumption for Critical Personnel: an immediate, short-term mana and life-force boost targeting the ailing Royal Consort, the previous King, and five critically injured military officers.
The benefit is rapid return to operational readiness and an immediate demonstration of the Crown's ability to secure life-saving resources, but the risk is exhausting the entire resource with zero long-term gain."
He continued, "The second option is Internal Research and Replication, aiming for long-term sustainability by tasking the Royal Academy's Alchemical Division to understand Blacksun's magical cultivation method.
This offers the potential to secure the Kingdom's food future, but the risk is a high failure rate due to the Academy's lack of specialized potioneers and the slow process offers no immediate relief."
"The third, and most resource-intensive option, is external collaboration with a master potioneer, such as Archmage Valerius or Nexia Lunecroft, to achieve the rapid, high-grade transformation of the roots into stable elixirs.
This offers the highest yield of stable, powerful, long-term elixirs and the creation of a strategic reserve. The risk is high cost and the potential for the potioneer to demand proprietary knowledge or political favors."
A low buzz of debate immediately began to rise from the floor.
Evangeline, who had been sitting quietly, leaned forward slightly, her boredom momentarily gone. This was the intersection of magic resource management and political strategy, the core of rulership.
An elderly Duke, Lord Tytus, stepped forward, his words in protest. "Your Majesty, while the General's options are sound, the price paid for this ginseng is scandalous! Blacksun is extorting the Crown! We should send a clear message: seize the granted farm and bring the rogue knight to justice!"
King Leopold sighed, running a hand over his face. "Lord Tytus, the message has been sent. The General's agent was compromised by Blacksun's own truth serum. The former knight knows our need is desperate. He is a formidable man, and his capacity for violence when provoked is… historical. We will pay the price for the stability he offers."
Queen Sarah then spoke, her voice calm and authoritative, cutting through the nobles' indignation. "General Stonehard, I am concerned about option three. Nexia Lunecroft is highly talented, but she has a deep relationship with Rowan Blacksun. She has even given birth to a daughter with him.
Archmage Valerius is aloof and expensive. If we choose collaboration, which master should we select to ensure the Crown's best interest?"
Seraphina stepped forward. "Your Majesty, the initial assessment was that Nexia Lunecroft is the superior choice, as she is likely familiar with the source material, given her past association with Rowan. However, given the political sensitivities, we have already taken a precautionary measure."
She glanced toward Evangeline, a subtle acknowledgment passing between them.
"We have quietly recalled Princess Evangeline to the Capital. Her presence here is necessary not just for protocol, but because she is uniquely positioned to handle the inevitable social and political maneuvering that will ensue once the collaboration option is approved.
She has spent time understanding the social contract between the common folk and the Crown, and she has proven capable of negotiating delicate matters."
The King nodded, a flicker of pride in his weary eyes as he looked at his veiled daughter. "My daughter's counsel will be invaluable. Evangeline, what is your assessment of the three options?"
Evangeline rose from her seat, her movements graceful and deliberate. The silk veil fluttered slightly as she stood for a moment, letting the weight of the court settle on her.
"Father, Mother," she began, her voice clear and carrying, "The ginseng is a strategic asset; we shouldn't use it for quick fixes.
Option one, immediate consumption, is a waste of future stability for a brief comfort. Option two, internal research, is too slow for the current rate of crisis decay. The answer is clear."
She met the King's gaze. "Option three, external collaboration, is the only viable path. We must turn the roots into stable elixirs. But we must use this transaction as leverage, not merely a service."
She turned to address General Stonehard directly. "General, your reports indicate that Blacksun's daughter, Alexia, is a young potioneer who needs high-grade lab equipment. If we hire Master Lunecroft or Archmage Valerius, they must agree to mentor the Blacksun girl in exchange for an additional bonus.
Master Lunecroft probably won't agree since she seems to want to maintain distance from her daughter for now. This will make it easier to offer her more beneficial terms. As for Archmage Valerius, he has an alright relationship with Lunecroft and also adores talent.
He wouldnt mind tutoring the child either.
This secures the alliance with Blacksun, leverages his family's emerging talent, and ensures the continued, stable flow of the monthly wheat. We buy the elixirs, and we secure the pipeline. It is a win for the Crown on all fronts."
A wave of astonished, impressed murmurs swept the chamber. It was a strategy that was ruthless, smart, and pragmatic.
The King smiled, the lines of worry around his eyes easing for the first time that day. "A brilliant proposal, my daughter. General, proceed with the external collaboration option, and send an urgent dispatch to Master Lunecroft.
Offer her the commission, and include the terms of a temporary apprenticeship for Alexia Blacksun. If she refuses, approach Archmage Valerius with the same offer. We will secure our future, one way or another."
A new wave of arguments immediately rose from the floor, led by various disgruntled nobles.
Lord Valerion, a man known for his influence over the Kingdom's wine trade, adjusted his velvet doublet and stepped forward. "Your Majesty, while the Princess's proposal is... astute, it relies on trusting a rogue element, a former military officer who abandoned his post.
Why reward such insolence with a mentorship for his child? The Crown should be demanding a tithe for the wheat, not securing a long-term alliance with a man who extorts us!"
"Indeed!" chimed in Countess Eldra, a severe woman with a sharp nose. "And Nexia Lunecroft! She is a known associate of the Blacksun family. She will undoubtedly put their interests before the Crown's.
We should use the Archmage Valerius, who has no personal ties, despite the expense. He is an independent factor, untainted by this... farmer's melodrama!"
"The Archmage is a ghost, Countess!" shouted Duke Borin. "Lunecroft is proven! The cost difference is enormous! We are in a drought, not a spending competition! The Princess's idea is solid; we secure the supply line and the elixirs! We should follow it!"
The chamber dissolved into a cacophony of dissenting voices, some arguing for military seizure, others for a more fiscally conservative choice, and still others demanding that the Ginseng be allocated to their own ailing family members instead of a strategic reserve.
The King, Leopold Bluecrown VII, listened for several long, agonizing minutes, the tension in his face deepening with every selfish, short-sighted suggestion. His red eyes, usually commanding, now held a deep, tired frustration.
Finally, he slammed his fist down onto the armrest of his throne. The sound, a sharp CRACK against the polished wood, echoed violently through the chamber, instantly silencing the room.
King Leopold leaned forward, his regal composure utterly gone, replaced by the raw, exhausted anger of a man facing down a true crisis.
"Silence!" he roared, his voice laced with pure, unfiltered power that momentarily caused the dust motes to freeze in the sunlight. "Are you all so blind? So consumed by petty grievance and coins that you forget the very ground beneath your feet is dying?"
He swept his gaze across the assembled nobility, each one flinching under the intensity of his stare.
"This is not a debate over price, nor is it a discussion of historical feuds! This is a matter of survival! Rowan Blacksun, rogue or not, is the only one in this Kingdom with a sustainable, magically productive food supply! We will not risk it!"
He focused his attention directly on General Stonehard, his voice dropping to a low, cold command that left no room for doubt.
"General, proceed as Princess Evangeline has instructed. The proposal stands as the final word. You will send the dispatch to Nexia Lunecroft, offering the commission and the additional terms of mentorship for Alexia Blacksun. Ensure those terms are both lucrative and appealing to her sense of professional pride."
He then fixed a burning, final look upon the nobles. "I will hear no more complaints. The Ginseng is secured, the wheat is guaranteed, and the pipeline will be cemented. The Crown must look toward stability, not vengeance! General, Director, you are dismissed. Implement the decision immediately."
The King slumped back into his throne, rubbing his temples, a sigh of profound weariness escaping his lips. His word was law. The political maneuvering was over. The Blacksun farm had just secured a mentorship for its eldest daughter, courtesy of the King's desperate need.