129. Kim Dukedom

Sun Palace, Capital City, Ancorna Empire

The hidden courtyard of Sun Palace existed in perpetual spring, shielded from time's passage by a dome of shimmering magic. Violet roses with petals like crushed velvet climbed marble arches, their perfume mingling with the citrus-sweet scent of golden lotuses floating in ornamental ponds. Silver-leafed vines cascaded down carved pillars, each tendril glistening as if dusted with starlight. At the center, a fountain depicted Solious in mid-benediction, water streaming eternally from her outstretched palms into a pool where gem-scaled traced lazy patterns through the depths.

Emperor Andrew sat by the water's edge, his embroidered robes pooling around him like liquid midnight. The tranquility of the space belied the sharp intelligence in his gaze as he watched a petal drift across the pool's surface.

Footsteps on crushed quartz announced Frank Eldric's arrival. The spymaster moved with practiced quietness, though the rustle of parchment betrayed the report clutched in his gloved hands. He bowed precisely - deep enough for respect, shallow enough to remind observers of his unique position.

"You have news, Frank." The emperor's statement hung between them, as much command as question.

Frank straightened. "I thought Your Majesty would find this development... noteworthy." He unfurled the document with a flick of his wrist. "Princess Ravenna has renamed her dukedom."

Andrew's eyebrow arched. "Without native nobility to approve it?"

"She secured signatures from newly appointed lords," Frank's mouth twisted slightly, "and from Raymond Heathcliff, Edward Jola's cousin. The imperial court had no grounds to refuse."

The emperor's fingers traced the rim of the fountain absently. "So she truly means to stay." His earlier suspicions about the magical beast attack, that it had been her ploy to re-enter the succession,now seemed misplaced. First the travel restrictions, now this permanent rebranding…

"And our eyes in Jola?"

Frank's exhale was barely audible. "Still blind. ships, traders are already rare enough then each is vetted by her knights. Even peasants can't cross without scrutiny." He didn't need to add what they both knew, late Empress Dahlia had handpicked every member of Ravenna's retinue. Loyal as tempered steel so it was very hard to get any spies in.

"This new name," Andrew finally asked, watching a plant snap at the drifting petal. "What did she choose?"

Frank consulted the report. "An... unusual selection. 'Kim Dukedom.'" The foreign syllables tasted strange in the Ancornan air.

Jola Estate in the Capital, Capital City, Ancorna Empire

The Jola Estate in the capital stood as a monument to faded glory—its marble halls still grand, but lacking the lived-in warmth of a true home. Edward Jola lounged in a velvet-upholstered chair, swirling amber liquor in a crystal glass as morning light filtered through stained windows.

"She changed the name?" Edward's fingers paused mid-sip. The butler's nod confirmed it. "'Kim Dukedom.' Quite the departure from tradition."

A dry chuckle escaped him. "I didn't take Her Highness for the settling type." He'd accepted the Emperor's decree without complaint—why wouldn't he? Exchanging that wretched island for a capital estate and a chest of mana coins had been the bargain of the century.

He'd assumed Ravenna's exile would be temporary—that within a year, she'd either perish from the island's hardships or abandon her post in a tantrum.

Yet now…

"Well," Edward sighed, stretching his legs toward the fireplace, "I suppose I got the better end of the deal regardless." The island could rot for all he cared.

A hurried knock interrupted his thoughts. The butler returned moments later, his usually composed demeanor slightly ruffled. "Milord... His Highness Prince Nolan has arrived. He requests an audience."

Edward's glass froze halfway to his lips. An imperial prince? Here?

Ravenna’s bedroom, Lord Castle, Jola City, Jola Island

The first golden rays of dawn crept through the arched windows of Ravenna's chambers, painting stripes of warmth across her silk sheets. She stretched languidly, her yawn muffled against the back of her hand as the remnants of sleep clung to her lashes.

Her maids entered with practiced quietness, their footsteps barely disturbing the plush carpets as they drew back the heavy drapes fully. Steam already curled from the adjoining bathing chamber, scented with lavender and something subtly citrus, Ravenna's preferred morning blend.

By the time she emerged, wrapped in a robe of embroidered linen with her damp hair coiled neatly at her nape, the castle had fully awakened around her. Ravenna dressed with deliberate precision. Her chosen garment was a purple sheer one-piece, its fabric form-fitted, with slits running high up both thighs to counter the island’s heat.

The scent of freshly baked bread and spiced tea guided her to the dining hall, where Marie sat hunched over a broadsheet, her breakfast forgotten in favor of the printed pages.

"Master!" Marie barely glanced up as Ravenna took her seat, her finger tracing a line of text. "This newspaper idea is brilliant! With this, even the fishermen down at the docks will know about city ordinances and—oh!" She finally registered Ravenna's raised eyebrow. "Ah. Manners."

Ravenna's lips twitched as Marie offered a contrite grin, complete with an impudent flash of tongue. "At least wait until I've had my tea before launching into your unruly noise" Ravenna chided, though the warmth in her voice softened the rebuke.

They ate in comfortable silence broken only by the rustle of pages and the clink of porcelain. The newspaper lay between them like a promise, a tangible symbol of the order Ravenna was carving from chaos.

When the last bite of honey-drizzled pastry vanished, Ravenna rose, her fingers brushing crumbs from her disciple’s face. "Come," she said, already turning toward her office. "We've work to do."

Fifteen minutes later

The heavy door of Ravenna's study swung shut behind them with a muted thud. Morning light streamed through the tall window, illuminating the meticulously organized space—parchments stacked in neat piles, inkwells aligned by height, and a large map of the island pinned to the far wall, dotted with colored markers.

Ravenna settled into her high-backed chair, the leather creaking softly under her weight. She gestured to the smaller seat beside her desk, recently added for this very purpose. "Today, you'll observe," she said, watching as Marie practically vibrated with energy. "No sword drills, no patrols—just governance."

Marie plopped into the chair, her boots kicking absently against its legs. "So, Master!" Her voice bounced off the vaulted ceilings. "What's first on the agenda?"

Ravenna massaged her temple, though the corner of her mouth betrayed her fondness. "Must you always sound like a caffeinated songbird at dawn?"

"I learned from the best!" Marie grinned, puffing out her chest in imitation of Ravenna's more dramatic pronouncements. "The Unruly Princess herself!"

Another sighed—deeper this time, though laced with amusement. Ravenna unfurled a fresh parchment and dipped her quill. "First," she said, the nib scratching decisively against the page, "we fortify Kim Island's defenses.”

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