"Does something trouble you?"

  Cal felt like he should have been the one asking that. He'd returned from the city a few hours ago and had been lounging, or brooding, in the dorm when Alice walked in. If her arrival through the balcony door didn't attract his scrutiny, her frosty appearance would have.

  "I—" he began, only to have the budding lie caught in his throat. It had been a reflex, and he squashed it. "I had a disappointing day."

  That type of statement would require a follow-up, and Cal sank further into the armchair he'd claimed. His leg became restless, bouncing up and down. It had been like that for a while now, trying to bleed off the day's nervous energy.

  "It wasn't really a fight," he continued, downplaying the event with a flippant wave of his hand, "but I had a heated disagreement with Emily."

  In spite of his efforts, he couldn't dislodge the betrayal he felt toward his fellow Federation agent.

  Their parting hadn't happened at Miss Plusier's shop, but in a nearby alley. It had been a terse send-off, neither side contributing more than the bare minimum needed for future coordination. Her mind had clearly been elsewhere during it, and he couldn't rightfully blame her for that. He'd had months to process the dark side of the Federation, and unfortunately, Olivia would not be afforded the same luxury.

  They were on the same page now—the only question was whether he'd turn the next one with or without her.

  "I could do with heat," Alice said bitterly, holding out an arm. "Would you mind?"

  Whereas Olivia was frosty in a metaphorical sense, Alice was literally frozen. Foot-long icicles hung off her skirt, and her top half was smothered with rigid globs of mud. It clung to her like a mantle, hiding the school blazer underneath. Only her head was spared an arctic fate, with flames dancing down her red mane.

  The heat radiating off it caused his skin to tingle, and he pulled himself up from the chair.

  "Step away from the glass," he said, shooing her from the door. "You're going to warp it."

  He presumed her status as a human popsicle was the reason she'd chosen the balcony over the more traditional entrance.

  "I'd rather not track it in further than I have," she responded with a frown, pawing at the frosted dirt.

  The heat went down a notch, and Cal considered her predicament before going for the kitchenette tucked in the corner of the room. Locating the desired cupboard, he retrieved a roll of paper.

  "Parchment paper," he said, ripping out a long piece. "It's the best I can think of right now."

  He laid the piece horizontally in front of her and repeated the action until there was a square of paper for her to stand on.

  "I surmise you won't turn them to cinders," she said, stepping onto the improvised mat.

  The ends of his mouth tugged upward, but he didn't point out the difference in control between them. From behind her, Cal set a palm on her shoulder. He was rewarded with a piercing chill. It went straight for his bones, rattling them.

  He shrugged off the sensation and let his magic flow. His fingers twitched as the warmth freed them from winter's embrace, and he let the power wash over the caked mud. He ramped it up quickly, knowing if Alice couldn't melt it on her own, this wasn't ordinary ice.

  "So you met Basem," he stated neutrally, keeping any accusations at bay.

  She hadn't told him of any plans to meet with the Adjunctor, and had she, he would have insisted on being present, if only to keep Basem in check.

  "He made an impression," Alice responded, rotating her shoulder and causing the patch he was working on to fracture. "I was in the midst of my training when he introduced himself, suggesting a light spar to further acquaint ourselves."

  There was an undercurrent of frustration in her voice, but it was buried deep. That spar would have been another reminder of the distance to her goal.

  "Did the debt come up?" he asked, moving to the other shoulder.

  The mud indicated they worked up to Basem's permafrost, or whatever this persistent ice was called. It was rude of the man to leave her like this, but knowing the girl, she likely insisted on taking care of it herself.

  "It was mentioned, but those manners of discussions aren't suited for a training field. This was an introduction to feel out each other's temperaments."

  Translation: Repeatedly being thrown into the mud was not conducive to deal-making.

  "Do you have any ideas about it?" he asked, curious as to what she would request.

  As far as he was concerned, it was House Ardere's debt to cash. Shirai's wealth would do far more for them than it would for him.

  Another section cracked, and he gripped the frozen dirt. It splintered as he pried it off, and he let it drop to the floor, noting how it didn't shatter.

  "I've given it some consideration," she said, her voice a touch lighter. "The boon granted to us must be used carefully. While Shirai is not beholden to the Empire, what we request could spur envy and retaliation from other houses."

  For all the Empire liked to call them snakes, their noble houses acted like vipers in a pit, eager to keep each other in check and devour the weak. It made alliances all the more important.

  Alliances that House Ardere currently lacked.

  "Don't be coy with me now," he said, noticing a trace of excitement in her words. "What's your dream ask?"

  A glint entered her eye, and she bit her bottom lip for a moment before slouching almost imperceptibly.

  Cal slapped her on her back, breaking apart chunks of ice and causing her to stagger a half step forward. Her head turned sharply toward him, a pout on her face.

  "What?" he asked with a smile. "I thought you had something stuck in your throat."

  Alice huffed, and she repositioned so that her side was facing him instead of her back. Flaring her magic impatiently, she held her partially thawed arm toward him.

  Cal crossed his unfrozen arms, making no move to approach.

  "It would be wildly improper," she said, staring at him from the corner of her eye. "And would provoke retaliation we could not weather."

  Seeing that she was talking, he reached out, grabbing her hand. His magic brushed up against hers, and while they worked separately, it was toward the same goal.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  "Keep going, or I'm leaving you like this," he warned.

  His threat earned an eye roll, and she stayed silent for a few scant seconds before responding.

  "Has your economics class touched on trade in and beyond the Empire?"

  The question threw him for a moment, but he gathered his bearings quickly. His economics class was the one senior course that hadn't caused him issues. He could only hope that would remain the case.

  "In the theoretical sense," he explained, recalling his lessons. "When talking about examples, teach makes up houses. I think it's to avoid stepping on any toes."

  Real-world examples would be better for learning, but it was an introductory course. Perhaps they'd go more in-depth later down the line.

  "Then your understanding of the economic activity conducted on the Great River is precarious?" she put forward, pausing until he confirmed with a nod. "It may surprise you to learn that it is almost exclusively fishing."

  He'd never really thought about it, but it didn't come off as a complete shock to him. Two large obstacles came to mind.

  "For such an expansive waterway, trade is nearly nonexistent," she continued. "The eastern lords have long-established land routes and are set in their ways. A few have attempted to break this trend, but the funds required are great, and attacks from beasts are common. To have any success, you must be farther down the river, closer to the sea, and within the domain of the southern lords."

  Marauding beasts were his first guess, and the second was just as obvious.

  "Who are more concerned with defending their ports against the Federation than opening them to trade," Cal offered, acknowledging that those areas had been prime targets whenever war was declared in the past.

  The actual docks and berths tended to be resilient, but the associated storage facilities were not, and in times of conflict, they were overflowing with material. A small group of operatives with specialized equipment could wipe out months' worth of supplies, along with the structures that housed them. In the worst cases, fires consumed the attached city.

  Increased trade meant more unfamiliar faces passing through the ports, and with them, a greater chance of saboteurs.

  "Publicly, that would be correct," Alice said, a measure of distaste entering her voice. "Those concerns are valid but inflated. There is a significant amount of wealth and influence waiting to be awarded to those who incur the risk, and many would welcome it if not for the true obstruction."

  Steam was emitted through fractures in the remaining ice, and he could feel her magic shift agitatedly.

  "House Procellae for centuries has enriched itself by holding a monopoly on trade south of the capital. Their coastal territories have a network of harbors that experience frequent use from internal and external trading partners. All houses under their banner understand not to disturb this state of affairs."

  "But House Ardere isn't under them anymore," he interjected, piecing together her scheme. "We didn't just lose their political protection, but the restrictions that accompanied it."

  "Shackles," she amended, prying free a plate of ice from her forearm. "And while not immune to their machinations, as pariahs we have opportunities others lack."

  Cal could see why she was apprehensive about it. It was easy to envision a future where the houses surrounding House Ardere embargoed them, neutralizing any benefit a port brought.

  Division would have to be sown in the duke's camp, which would be a tall order.

  "It almost feels poetic," he mused. "How long have you been thinking about this?"

  He wasn't blind to the possibilities it opened on his end either. If relations between the Federation and Empire ever did cool enough to allow trade, he could likely strong-arm some toward her.

  "It was an errant thought," she admitted, wringing out her sleeve. "Without the aid of a Free City, it would be pure fantasy. Theirs are the only ships that could not be barred from entering the mouth of the Great River."

  Either country could attempt to stop the other's ships from passing through, and they certainly had in the past, but the Free Cities had an uncanny knack for being immune to those high-tension moments.

  "Are you sure you weren't thinking about how you could hurt Marcus?" he asked, receiving a withering look. "Because while I'm usually against playing geopolitical chess for petty reasons, I'm willing to make an exception."

  It might even be easier to gain official support if he framed it as a way to weaken the Empire's hold on its southern border.

  "My feelings on him and the dukedom are completely divorced," she said through a clenched jaw. A heated breath passed through her lips, and he could see the anger within her dim. "It's my duty as heir to consider what is best for my house, and if that goes against the dukedom, so be it."

  The truthfulness of that statement was suspect. However, he wouldn't prod at it.

  "You had a falling out with Emily?" Alice broached with a hint of caution in her voice. "Can I inquire as to the details? And if I should terminate any future discourse with her."

  Cal's face pulled to the side as he put on a lopsided cringe. He'd almost forgotten that was how their conversation had started.

  "It'll work itself out," he replied with more confidence than he felt. "You could say there's a disconnect between us now because of our respective positions."

  His words were up to interpretation, but in spirit, they hit the core issue. Olivia was a Federation native, instilled with a level of devotion he'd never hope or want to match. Meanwhile, Cal had been, and always would be, an outsider.

  "That manner of friction is inevitable," she said, a distant look entering her eyes. "Responsibility is seldom mindful of your relationships and sometimes appears to seek them out specifically."

  There was a weight to her assertion that gave Cal pause. If Alice noticed, she didn't comment on it, continuing while staring into empty space.

  "As heir, I would tell you that duty to our house trumps all." Her steady speech turned softer, containing an element of weariness. "As your sister, I would caution against disposing of bonds forged."

  That ran contrary to a lot of what she had told him in the past, and he gathered the fact wasn't lost on her.

  "You wonder why I oppose Marcus so adamantly? It's because I was fool enough to fight for what I believed our shared future to be, and he was not. He tossed my heart aside for his house. I understand it, I accept it, but I shall never forgive it. Know this, should you wish to mend what is frayed, I will support you."

  Heart?

  It took longer than he would have liked, but the dots in his mind connected, forming a picture he hadn't seen coming. Although in retrospect, maybe he should have.

  "I—" his voice failed him for a second time, but he rallied swiftly. "Good riddance. You're too good for him."

  That's what you were supposed to say… right? Teasing about a relationship he could do. Comforting? He was out of his depth. Par for the course.

  A fit of laughter escaped her, and she covered her mouth with her free hand.

  Did she just play a joke on him?

  "Forgive me," she said, recovering with a congenial smile on her face. "That was very earnest of you, and it was not my intent to make light of it."

  Cal released his hold on her, judging she could melt the rest on her own. A vindictive part of him considered refreezing her, but his ice would be easily dispelled.

  "And what was your intent?" he said peevishly, glancing down at his muddy hand.

  His eyes strayed toward her unmarred hair, devious thoughts forming.

  "My intent was to explain how, although the bond you share with Emily differs from what I experienced with Marcus, that does not mean it is worth less. I would see many things burn before I parted with Lily, for example."

  It was definitely worth less. There was value in maintaining a professional relationship, but Olivia had done nothing to foster anything more than that. Granted, he hadn't offered her many opportunities for that.

  "And then you blurted out a clumsy and yet oddly endearing attempt at comfort."

  He was going to wipe that smile off her face when he noticed that in covering her mouth earlier, she'd smeared it with dirt.

  It served her right.

  "Ha, ha," he drawled back at her. "I'm taking back my feelings and going to bed then."

  Cal turned, ready to call it a night. He didn't make it far, a question springing up behind him.

  "Do you think it's too much?" she asked, vulnerability invading her speech. He looked over his shoulder, finding her with a chin pointed downward, causing a shadow to fall over her face. "My fanciful request of Shirai?"

  Cal stopped in his tracks, considering it seriously. It was a lot to ask Shirai over a mere favor. However, it wasn't Shirai he was dealing with, but Basem himself. And where there was man, there was weakness.

  "I might need to twist some arms, but it's not out of the question."

  Basem wanted to ascend to the status of City Lord, and Cal's 'favor' was in direct support of that. More than that, it could be turned into a dagger against Basem if needed.

  None of that even considered what secrets Basem was after out in the Waste either. He might have been able to discern more about those motives if he talked to the mercenary the school had stashed away, but he didn't even want to begin to think about what that would involve.

  Between planned meetings with a borderline terrorist association, getting close to known conspirators like the Beast Husbandry club, investigating faculty members, speaking with nosy Justiciars, and hunting for this endangered mind mage species, his plate was full.

  Thankfully, he was not bereft of ideas on how to tackle multiple objectives at once. He'd be aiming for more than one bird with each stone he threw.

  "For the purpose of my sanity," the girl said blandly. "I do hope that's one of your expressions and not a statement of physical intent."

  Huh? Oh, right.

  Rather than respond, his childish side finally won out. He vanished from his spot, appearing behind the current redhead. A quick swipe of his hand made that distinction blurry, and he raced for his room, slamming the door shut before she could realize what he'd done.

  Funnily enough, the door turned out not to be Alice-proof.