221. Sixth Day of the Festival

“We are already opening four more casinos in different regions!” Earl Taylor Hessman announced with a grin that stretched ear to ear. His voice was booming, filled with triumph, as though he had already won the whole empire with dice and slot machines alone. He leaned back on the sofa opposite Ravenna, his fine coat straining slightly against his broad shoulders.“It’s good to hear,” Ravenna replied smoothly, her tone calm but her eyes sharp, watching him with the patience of a raven. The morning light poured through the tall glass windows behind her, spilling across her desk and painting her silhouette in a golden glow. She lowered her teacup with deliberate care, the porcelain clinking softly against the saucer.

“So,” she continued, her voice casual, almost lazy, “you will need more slot machines shipped to the capital. Production will take time, of course, but I can have them delivered by the end of winter.”

Earl Hessman waved his hand dismissively, though his grin did not fade. “There is no rush. We haven’t decided on the exact locations yet. But rest assured, the association’s profits will soar more once we set them up.” His words were thick with satisfaction, almost intoxicated by the wealth flowing in.

Ravenna let him bask in his joy for a moment before speaking again, her tone shifting ever so slightly, lighter, yet laced with steel. “I plan to have newspapers distributed through the casinos as well.”

That made him pause. His grin faltered just a fraction, curiosity flickering in his eyes. Ravenna leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as her smirk curved like a blade. “We will establish a payout system for information : articles, gossip, local reports. Something people will want to read, something that will make them need the newspaper.”

“The… newspaper?” Earl Hessman repeated, as though tasting the word for the first time. He had seen the broadsheets circulating in Kim City during his stay, seen commonfolk eagerly flipping through them in the taverns and plazas. But the idea of spreading them across the empire’s territories struck him differently. “Your Highness… peasants in most regions cannot even read. And the cost of transporting papers from this island to every casino will be tremendous.”

“We can make them listen,” Ravenna countered without hesitation. Her raven-black eyes glinted in the light, unwavering. “Staff will read the news aloud individually for each person, every street corner where the casinos stand. We can advertise special sections: strategies, tricks for the games, tips to draw gamblers in. People love the illusion of an edge.”

Earl Hessman frowned slightly, his hands steepled together as he thought. “I see what you’re attempting… This isn’t just about gambling. You’re building an information guild. But unlike those that dispatch spies to gather intelligence, you’ll make the people themselves bring you the news. Pay them when their stories are published, give them coins for gossip, and they’ll compete to deliver it to you first.”

His voice slowed as the realization sank deeper. “It is… a way to decentralize the flow of information while keeping the reins firmly in your hands.”

A slow, satisfied smile spread across Ravenna’s lips. “Exactly. And unlike a conventional guild, I don’t need to send scouts or messengers. They will come to me willingly, and they will fight each other for the privilege. A steady stream of local happenings, all funneled to my fingertips.”

Her gaze grew darker, sharper. “Of course, I am not blind. This endeavor will bleed mana coins at first. Printing, shipping, staffing: it will not pay for itself overnight.” She leaned back, drumming her slender fingers against the table. “But I do not care about temporary losses. Short-term coin means nothing when weighed against what I will gain.”

Earl Hessman swallowed. His instincts, honed by years of commerce and politics, warned him. He saw the outlines of her plan now and it unsettled him.

Ravenna’s smirk deepened as she tilted her head slightly, her hair falling like ink across her shoulder. “You see, Earl Hessman, peasants today rely on council meetings run by nobles, rumors spread by servants, the idle tongues of merchants and drunkards. That is their world of news: scattered, chaotic, unshaped. But when my system spreads…”

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Her finger tapped once, sharply, against the desk. “…I decide what they hear. What they repeat. What they believe.” work that was, in truth, entirely centralized under Ravenna Solarius. Information as entertainment, as guidance, as gospel a tool sharper than any blade.

And she wielded it with the casual ease of a woman sipping tea in the morning sun.

Innovation Convention Hall, Kim City, Kim Island, Kim Dukedom, Ancorna Empire

Aria Morgen sat gracefully in one of the front rows of the Innovation Convention Hall, her back straight and posture refined, yet her eyes glimmered with genuine curiosity. The hall itself was alive with motion high-arched ceilings painted with murals, long rows of benches filled with artisans, clerks, even freed former slaves who now dressed with a confidence that education brought them. The air buzzed not with solemnity, but with anticipation.

It was the Festival of Lust outside, streets bursting with color, indulgence, and revelry, yet here inside the hall the people’s hunger was of another kind: hunger for ideas.

“The very concept of this hall is extraordinary,” Aria whispered to her companion, Aurora Flask, her voice carrying both admiration and disbelief. “It allows citizens themselves to propose changes, to involve themselves in the ruling of the dukedom. No court back home would ever dream of such openness.”

Aurora, seated beside her with one leg crossed elegantly, gave a knowing smile. “Of course it makes sense here. Kim City is unique. On average, more of its citizens are literate, educated, and emboldened than anywhere else in the empire. They were given tools to think, and now they demand to use them.” She nodded toward the stage where today’s presenter stepped forward.

A young man with dark hair and the confident bearing of someone raised in service introduced himself. “Greetings. I am David,” he said, bowing slightly to the crowd. His voice rang clear across the chamber. “Today, I wish to speak of the spiritual needs of our city.”

A ripple of murmurs stirred through the audience, but David pressed on. “Kim City has changed drastically. Its people have multiplied, its prosperity grown. Yet in all this… faith is struggling to keep pace. Worshippers of Herptian queue for hours, especially now during the Festival, unable to even step inside a temple. My proposal is simple: we need more churches.”

Many in the audience nodded, already swayed. But David was not done.

“Not only Herptian temples,” he added boldly, “but houses of worship for Solious as well. Many of our freedmen and mainlanders belong to her faith, yet they have no place to kneel, no sanctuary of their own.”

The room erupted into debate. Some clapped in agreement, while others hissed disapproval. One woman stood, her bracelets jangling, and called, “To build temples for Solious here would be courting disaster! Tensions already flare between the faiths as is.”

Another man countered, “But to deny them is unjust! If we allow one faith its churches, why not another? Do we not pride ourselves on progress and freedom?”

Aria’s brows furrowed as she listened, weighing the arguments like a scholar balancing scales. “The concerns are valid,” she murmured to Aurora. “Introducing temples for Solious might only deepen the divide. Natives may cluster around Herptian sanctuaries, mainlanders around Solious ones… the city could split into segregated communities.”

Aurora inclined her head, her eyes thoughtful. “Indeed. It could worsen clashes between the faiths and already, the festival strains harmony.” She paused, then smiled faintly, almost cynically. “But fairness has little weight here, does it? You speak of ‘fair,’ Lady Aria… yet Goddess Herptian is anything but fair. And if I know Ravenna, she will take the same stance. Not balance, not fairness. Control.”

Aria exhaled softly, staring ahead as the debates raged on the floor, voices rising and falling like waves. She knew her cousin’s hand would ultimately guide the outcome, no matter what the hall voted. Still, there was beauty in this theatre of ideas.

“Well,” she said at last, smoothing her gown. “I am certain they will decide something. Tomorrow is the final day of the festival, after all. Tell me, Lady Aurora, how will you spend it? Where should I go to truly see the heart of this festival?”

Aurora’s lips curved into a knowing smile, her tone hushed yet rich with promise. “If you truly wish to understand what the Festival of Lust is… then come to the Central Cathedral tomorrow night. Attend the play they will perform upon its grand stage. Only then will you grasp the spirit of Herptian’s faith and there is certainly something special waiting that I believe you ought to be there for.”