The mage returned fairly quickly, but the stiffness in her shoulders indicated she wasn’t feeling any more at ease.

  She kept a respectful distance from Asteria and cast a subtle sound enhancement spell so the entire army could hear her voice.

  “Veil Priestess,” she called. “His Excellency invites you to a late luncheon in the inner gardens. He also extends the invitation to a small retinue.”

  So he doesn’t want to make it look like he’s worried about meeting her.

  Asteria didn’t respond right away. She simply looked down at Carat, glancing at the gold-trimmed walls, the forest of masts, and the cranes that looked like hooked fingers, along with the ward-towers silently guarding the harbor. From this height, the city looked peaceful.

  Then her gaze shifted, and she found Candra’s in the closest row.

  “Elder,” Asteria said, not needing to cast, since her will alone was enough to project her voice. “You shall hold command of the army until my return.”

  Candra hummed, though she didn’t appear very pleased. “Find out what kind of web the spiders have been weaving,” was all she said.

  Asteria gave her a nod and turned. “Pauline. Eire. Orion.”

  Pauline moved closer instantly, while Eire came from below, having been assigned to the warders for the entire campaign. Orion followed his mother’s orders without hesitation, even as he felt eyes land on him from the hovering mages.

  Asteria added two more with a flick of her fingers.

  Magistra Lysandra descended from the second flight, her hair tightly braided and her robes adorned with the pale glyphs preferred by wardwrights. Magistra Corinne followed soon after, broader-shouldered and wearing a sterner expression.

  As requested, they formed a small retinue, but when assembled, their power was enough to threaten even a well-defended position.

  The woman who delivered the invitation dipped her head. Around her, the other mages exchanged glances and murmurs, and Orion caught the moment when some of them understood. Their eyes flicked from Asteria to him, then back again, noticing how close he was kept, how naturally he took his place next to her, and that he didn't flinch from her aura.

  I’m not as similar to her as I am to Antares, so it’s understandable it took them this long to realize.

  “We are ready,” Asteria said. “Lead us.”

  They descended in a smooth spiral, escorted by a loose ring of Carat’s mages, and were led to an arming field beside the docks, a wide stretch of packed earth and stone where cranes loomed overhead, and long sheds were filled with barrels marked with the crimson wheel. A line of soldiers waited there in lacquered armor, their breastplates trimmed in resplendent gold.

  A chest was placed in the middle of the field, its lid open, revealing an interior lined with silk and preservative magic.

  “For the brooms,” the mage said.

  Pauline’s shadows shifted, rising gently like a cat’s fur fluffing, but Asteria remained unfazed.

  “Will you take responsibility for their integrity?” she asked mildly.

  The mage's face paled slightly, but she didn’t back down. “No one will touch them or move them,” she said quickly. “They will be guarded. With our lives, if it comes to that.”

  “See that it does,” Candra called from above, her voice reaching them despite the good mile of distance, essentially letting everyone know she could still see them. “If a single finger touches them, I will count it as theft.”

  The soldiers flinched together, and Orion felt a quiet sense of satisfaction from that. You might be playing at home, but that doesn’t give you the upper hand.

  One by one, they placed their brooms into the chest. The lid closed with a deep thump, and the soldiers took their positions around it.

  A carriage waited at the edge of the field, painted a shiny crimson with gold filigree and glass windows that reflected the sunlight like polished mirrors. Its wheels were rimmed with etched metal bearing protective runes, and the beasts pulling it were not ordinary horses but a sleek breed with unnaturally bright eyes and hooves that sparked as they moved.

  It was luxurious in a way the Sanctum’s carriages rarely were, all velvet, scentwood, and soft lamplight trapped behind crystal panes. It was also, as Orion noted when [Hypotheticism] reached for the usual pressure of powerful enchantments and found none, surprisingly simple in its magic details.

  Aside from its aesthetics, the only worthwhile enchantments were for comfort. Compared to Yue’s carriage magic or Antares’s, it was barely more than a toy.

  Still, when Orion stepped inside and his stone foot sank into the thick carpeting, he felt the campaign’s exhaustion fade away and couldn’t fault the merchants for their choice of focus.

  Knights in crimson and gold rode alongside them as mages floated above, spaced out to cover every angle. The carriage rolled forward at a steady pace, and their chosen route made their host’s intentions clear.

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  They avoided narrow lanes where ruins might be hidden and back alleys where blood could still be pooled. Instead, they walked along Carat’s widest streets, bustling with open shops, porters shouting over crates, and merchants in fine coats standing under awnings, going about their daily business despite the tension still hanging over them.

  Orion watched as people turned toward the carriage as it went by. A few citizens nodded or bowed. Some just stared, as if unsure what their presence would mean for the future. Children pointed until their mothers pushed their hands down.

  It worked to paint a peaceful picture, if one did not look too closely.

  Fresh plaster covered scorch marks on a wall. A roofline had been hastily rebuilt, with new tiles that hadn't yet weathered to match the old. A shrine at a crossroads had been repaired, but the offering bowl beneath it was cracked, and it was only made more noticeable as someone had tried to hide the damage with fresh paint.

  Carat had been hurt, that much was clear, but it had also survived the violence, and if there was one thing that could be said of merchants, it was that they would do business even in the most difficult circumstances.

  The castle rose from the core of the city long before they arrived, made of crimson stone with gilded trim. Its towers were thick and square, and the battlements were lined with wards that glowed faintly even in daylight. Orion had expected something grand, but this was much more militaristic than he had imagined.

  They entered through a gatehouse large enough to accommodate trucks, then drove into an inner courtyard.

  Servants greeted them with lowered eyes, and the escort dispersed as soon as they entered the gardens, as if nothing could possibly go wrong now that they were here.

  Only the lead mage remained, walking a few steps ahead of them, worrying her lip as she guided them further in.

  The gardens were sprawling, arranged in terraces that stepped down toward an artificial lake. Sculpted hedges formed geometric patterns, dotted with statues of merchants and captains facing the water. Rare flowers bloomed in neat rows with color combinations that Orion was pretty sure couldn’t exist naturally.

  Their group walked through it all without stopping once.

  They were taken from the old stone wings into a part of the castle that didn't match the previous feudal grandeur. This area had sleeker lines, brighter halls, and taller windows with narrow frames and detailed glasswork, allowing natural light to enter without causing drafts despite the open space.

  A set of double doors opened into a sunlit sitting room that overlooked the gardens. The furniture looked stylish without being flashy, featuring polished wood and light-colored upholstery, with gold accents that for once didn’t seem gaudy. A table was set for a meal, and three figures waited within.

  A slender young man sat comfortably, dressed in crimson so deep it almost appeared black in the shadows, the fabric cut with such precision it seemed sewn onto his skin. His hair was neatly pulled back, his face smooth, his eyes bright and thoughtful, and his smile was radiant the moment they entered.

  An older woman sat next to him. She showed no visible armor, but her presence caught Orion’s attention, as his instincts told him not to overlook her, despite her less striking appearance. Her hair was pulled into a tight twist, and a delicate web of silver jewelry hung from her neck and wrists, its charms shaped like tiny spiders.

  Behind them, near the doorway leading further into the wing, a single knight stood at rest. He was massive, built like an orc, but his piercing blue eyes left no doubt about his intelligence. His armor was simple compared to the ornate decorations around him, but Orion didn’t doubt for a moment that it was worth more than all the pieces in the room combined. The man watched them silently, assessing them.

  Orion wasted no time. His glasses chimed on, and the System readily provided him the information he sought.

  Cassian Auric — Excellency of the Crimson Wheel

  Class: [Golden Regent] [A-rank]

  Level: 149

  Mind: 812

  Attunement: 944

  Body: 128

  Traits: Gilded Mandate [A-rank]; Authority [A-rank]; Mana Manipulation [B-rank]; Silver-Tongue Concord [B-rank]; Emergency Decree [B-rank]

  Maedra Vey — The Web-Weaver

  Class: [Madame of the Skittering Shadows] [A-rank]

  Level: 153

  Mind: 1,001

  Attunement: 992

  Body: 214

  Traits: Silk Compulsion [A-rank]; Network Sense [A-rank]; Clause Venom [B-rank]; Woven Decoy [B-rank]; Mana Manipulation [B-rank]

  Ser Jorvan Kest — The Impassable Bulwark

  Class: [Bastion Knight] [A-rank]

  Level: 178

  Mind: 311

  Attunement: 1,173

  Body: 1,486

  Traits: Unyielding Frame [A-rank]; Mana-Eater Plate [A-rank]; Internal Mana Manipulation [A-rank]; Anchor Step [B-rank]; Siege Defense [B-rank]; Tithe of Pain [B-rank]

  Orion felt the brief, instinctive urge to swallow.

  Cassian was still a tier three, if at the cusp, and thus probably the weakest leader of a major faction, but his rank was A, meaning he was another extra-ranker.

  What will happen once he crosses over to tier four? Will his rank increase again?

  The other two were powerhouses, easily on par with a Veil Priestess, though he knew his mother wasn’t the average tier four, and for some reason, they worried him less than the young man.

  Cassian rose smoothly and inclined his head in greeting, somehow making the gesture look anything but submissive.

  “Veil Priestess Asteria Voidwalker,” he said warmly, his tone neither loud nor timid, making it clear he knew exactly who she was. “The Crimson Wheel Consortium thanks you. Stillport remains standing because you chose to intervene, and because your people sacrificed themselves to keep our citizens safe.”

  Asteria returned a nod that was courteous, and nothing more.

  “Your thanks are appreciated,” she said. “As the Moon Mother wills, we do what must be done.”

  Cassian’s gaze flicked briefly to Orion, and his smile softened in a way that nearly made Orion’s guard drop, because it seemed genuinely understanding.

  Man, that guy is dangerous. I’m usually immune to social cues, and I almost walked over to shake his hand just because of that.

  It also made him wonder if the guy could see his rank. Orion didn’t see any such trait in his list, but he might have a sneaky artifact as he did.

  His mother introduced them plainly, naming Pauline and Eire, Magistra Lysandra and Magistra Corinne, then gently touching Orion’s shoulder.

  “And this is my son,” she said.

  Cassian’s eyes widened slightly, and he nodded. “Then the rumors from Valderun were true,” he said, revealing in one sentence that he knew exactly who his father was. “You have my welcome as well, Master Orion.”

  The Web-Weaver exchanged greetings with the witches and gave him a faint smile, while Ser Jorvan remained completely still.

  Soon, servants appeared and silently set down plates.

  There was river fish glazed in citrus and honey, the kind Orion had only tasted once in Silverpeak when a special shipment arrived. There were small bowls of spiced grains from the eastern terraces, roasted roots that smelled of citrus, and thin slices of meat so tender they fell apart when a fork touched them. A dish of creamy, pale fruit sat in crushed ice that did not melt, and even the bread had been baked with something rich stirred into the dough, leaving it fragrant and golden.

  They were all made with rare ingredients, imported across the Magocracy, and offered without blinking an eye.

  Orion accepted a cup of mou when it was offered, and the first sip satisfied him in a way that felt almost obscene after weeks of campaign food. He hated himself a little for how much he enjoyed it.

  Cassian ate with restraint, as if he wanted to show he could indulge without actually needing to. Maedra barely touched her plate, though Orion noticed she sipped multiple cups of tea, and Jorvan did not eat at all.

  When enough bites had been taken to fulfill the ritual of hospitality, Cassian set his utensils down and folded his hands.

  “I will not pretend that nothing happened in Carat,” he said. “We have endured a tough season, and it ended in a complete mess a week ago. We wouldn’t have been able to save Stillport if you weren’t there.”

  Asteria set her own fork down and looked at him calmly. “You speak of the dragon that went through the Belt without anyone noticing.”

  Cassian’s smile did not falter, but Orion noticed the faint tightening at the corner of his mouth.

  “That dragon, yes,” he agreed. “I have been busy with matters that needed my attention inside these walls, and I made the mistake of trusting the old Riverguard to handle the security while I set things right here. It's not a mistake I’ll make again.”

  He said it lightly, almost apologetically.

  Asteria let the words hang for a moment before her eyes narrowed. “You seem to speak as if you’re in charge now,” she said, and her tone grew colder. “Tell me, Your Excellency. What really happened?”

  Cassian’s eyes locked on hers.